FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It was a slow day, which was a rare thing these days, so I took a seat on my fine, fake leather sofa and took a sip of espresso. The contracts would come soon enough, they always did and they never failed to keep me in upper-lower-middle class luxury, which was basically the best a Human could ask for without kissing some serious noble ass.

Not to speak ill of them, of course. They were my clients by and large. But they were my clients; I wasn't theirs.

Ping!

Alerting me to a new email, my laptop woke up and I diverted my attention to it.

Here's the new draft of the ad. Let me know what you think.

From,

Charley

Opening the attachment I was greeted with an enormous picture of a weasel-faced human with brown hair that I failed to recognize as my own. Flanking my head above and below were the words, “Never late! Call Nate!" and splattered all over were key buzzwords such as “Terran computer repair," “Refurbishing," “Curios," “Antiques," “Rare Electronics."

Scrolling down, I found an exact replica of the ad, except in Regulian, which I could only read a little of. Charley assured me that the tagline for this one was more marketable, which was important, being that they were my prime customers (Indeed, the English ad was only there because many of them local nobles are obsessed with Earth culture and language.) but I had to rely on his word for this one and I was already becoming turned-off by how my face turned out.

I began to type out my response but decided that I couldn't be bothered at the moment and flicked on the TV.

“...15th year anniversary of the annexation of Earth to the..."

Flick.

“...Duke Horith of North America will be hosting another of famous, some would say infamous, parties..."

Flick.

“...His highness, the King of Earth, announced that he will be visiting the Duchy of Europe..."

Flick.

“...A group of citizens calling themselves the Regulian Human Guard have marched in support of the royal government..."

Collaborators. Xenophiles…

Flick.

“We now return to A Sirian in Syria."

I caught a glimpse of a Sirian, looking much like a Siberian Husky, walking through the streets of Damascus while speaking Regulian with English subtitles translating.

Flick.

Moaning hissed from the television set and soon the image of a young, blond woman French-kissing a large, gray Lupiad appeared.

Well...more interesting than the earlier crap…

My hand found itself in my trousers. I never would dream of dating an alien, but some of the porn appealed to me.

“Turn around," the Lupiad growled, spinning his girl around and bending her over while yanking her long locks back. He pulled her close to his bulging, red cock, and violently thrust her from behind.

She screamed in pleasure as he pounded her in and out, just coming short of forcing his knot inside, most likely for safety reasons. When they get to that point, there would always be a quick cut and…

“You want the knot, bitch?"

There we go, quick-cut of the knot entering her significantly looser looking vagina than before. Whatever, it got me stroking and I was rock-hard.

BANG BANG BANG!

“Nate! Open up! Now!"

Off went the TV and up I came...bad choice of words...I rushed to the door and threw it open, revealing Jane, my landlord, who was uncharacteristically haggard and disheaveled. She was also smoking a cigarette which violated a few of the rules on the lease.

“Nate, you repair computers right?"

“Yeah."

She grabbed me by the arm and began to pull, “Upstairs."

I yanked my arm away, breaking her grip, “Uh, no. Why?"

“The owner of the building's company is staying in the penthouse. His computer, his antique Human computer is broken."

“Okay, well, my rates are..."

“We'll discuss that later, upstairs! Now!"

I followed, but she insisted on pulling. Even when we were standing still in the elevator I felt a subtle pull on my forearm. As soon as the door cracked open, I was dragged through towards the penthouse door, stopping for her to knock.

The door cracked open, revealing a Sirian, who looked exactly like a six foot tall black and tan German Shepherd on two legs with an expensive business suit with his bushy tail trailing behind. Age revealed itself by the gray hairs dotting his otherwise black muzzle and his drooping jowls.

“Is this the technician, landlord?"

“Yes, he'll fix your..."

“Your son's computer and I'm beginning to think he was trying to pull a fast one on me..."

“No! It'll work fine, Nate's here."

I stepped in front of her, extending my hand to the Sirian, “Pleasure to meet you, Sir…?"

“Argus," he said, his leathery paw wrapping itself around my hand. Bowing, he pecked the top of my hand with his lips.

I stared back in disbelief.

“I made a mistake?" he asked, tilting his head, “I was told this was a proper formal greeting for Humans..."

“When a man greets a woman, yes," I replied, “And about a hundred years ago."

“Pardon me. It would seem that ten years on Earth is not enough to learn everything," he sighed, taking a few steps back and pointing at an ancient desktop computer, likely from 2009 at the earliest. The front was labeled with Lenovo as the brand-name. Argus continued, tapping the top of the tower with a claw, “I was told that this rare antique was fully functional, but when it starts up..."

He pressed the power button with his claw and the fans whirred while the monitor flickered on. The BIOS splash screen vanished in a second followed shortly by the Windows 7 logo loading screen, which flashed to black and jumped back to the BIOS. Over and over it went.

Rare. Antique. They may have conquered our planet, but we conquered their wallets.

“Can you fix it, Nate?" Jane interjected.

“Please leave. Let the professional work," Argus ordered, casting a scowl at Jane who was out of the room in an instant.

“There we go, it's just us now," Argus sighed, taking a seat on a soft, black couch against the wall. He put up his feet on the matching ottoman, revealing the black pads of his foot soles, “Get this working and you'll be well rewarded."

I stopped, hovering over the keyboard, “Well, my usual rates are..."

“No usual rates, Nate. I need a rare human antique by the evening and if this is not working it...decreases the value significantly. If you get it working you will be rewarded."

“What kind of…?"

“If my daughter was interested and did not have a fiancee, I would let her date you," he said very matter-of-fact.

Blushing, I shook my head.

“Ah, I see," he nodded, “I understand. Of course, I do not judge."

I had a feeling what assumption he was making about me. It was personal and none of his business; most of all, not true. I liked women and while there were some aliens that were attractive, I preferred human women.

The computer was actually in very good condition considering it was likely about 30 years old. I was shocked when I was able to boot the recovery drive.

“You want the data the previous user had?"

“Yes! It adds to the value. You have no idea how fascinating they can be, there's always a story it has to tell."

I made a backup of the data and ran the factory recovery. It was simply a matter of waiting now.

“So, can it be fixed?"

“I'm not giving a guarantee, but it looks good. It's going to be a few minutes."

“Sit down. Have a drink," Argus said, patting the seat next to him on the couch.

This was getting a bit more personal than I was used to at client appointments, but Argus retrieved a bottle of Islay Scotch and I couldn't resist a glass of that and took my seat, making sure to keep space between us.

“Ice?"

“No thanks," I said, “You don't drink good Scotch like this with ice."

“Really?" he muttered, rubbing at his chin, “I have much to learn about Earth."

The Scotch was poured into crystal tumblers and I took a slow swig. The heavy peat taste burned my tongue and scorched my throat. Good stuff. Argus seemed to nearly choke on the smell but forced it down.

“Nate, are you single?"

That question took me off-guard and I inhaled a few droplets of whisky, causing me to cough violently, bending over trying to clear my lungs.

“Impolite question?"

Finally getting my cough under control, I choked out a reply, “N-no, but I don't know why you're..."

His muzzle flew open in laughter, “No, no, I'm only asking for your reward. Don't worry, I won't do anything you don't want me to," he placed his paw atop my hand, stroking it with his padded fingers, “Hm?"

Clearing my throat, I stood up, “I think it's done, excuse me."

It was, in fact, done. Which meant I was lucky enough to have an excuse to possibly offend someone who had an absurd level of power over me, being a member of the ruling class. The familiar sound of the Windows 7 login screen sang through the speakers and we were online.

I copied the data from the previous install over, populating the desktop with hundreds of icons, no doubt this was owned by a tech-illiterate parent or worse, a college student.

A heavy paw planted itself on my shoulder, causing me to jump. Argus muttered his approval, “Good job, Nate."

“No problem, uh..." I paused to think of something to say, “The hard drive is a little...uh, a little loud, but otherwise it's good."

“Very good," Argus whispered, “Now then, your reward..."

Sweating, I was too nervous to turn around, “I don't really need..."

“The Duke is holding a party next weekend. As I'm sure you're aware, they're quite the affair. I'll get you in the door as my guest."

“That's..." I was taken aback. I was not the party-going type, but it was a very tempting offer. It would be a new experience, that's for sure, plus I would be making a lot of contacts for future business. There were rumors about the decadence of the whole thing, but that was common when dealing with the alien nobility. I turned, facing up at the Sirian who dwarfed me, “Well, that's very generous."

“You'll have your own room, if things get overwhelming," he said with a smirk, “And they usually do. But there'll be good food, good drink, and beautiful women from across the galaxy. Interested?"

“Yes," I blurted out without even thinking, “Thank you, that's very generous."

“Excellent!" he clapped his paws together, “I'll get that landlord to send you the details tomorrow. Well, you must be busy with other clients, I won't hold you up."

Nodding, I left the penthouse and got into the elevator, pressing my floor and leaning against the wall as it descended.

The day started slow and now it was going so fast that I couldn't keep up. Part of me wanted to cancel, but the opportunity couldn't be passed up. I really had no choice at this point but to go, and backing out now would mean offending a rich business owner, one who happened to own the building I lived in. One who seemed to be getting very close…

There'll be a private room. You don't have to stick around him. Just relax.

I tried to stay focused and upon getting back to my apartment I began drafting the email criticizing Charley's advertisement. I was going to a party at the most powerful person on the continent's house, but I still had a business to run.

Flicking on the TV, I found that the...educational show about interspecies relationships had been interrupted by a news broadcast.

“A bomb exploded at YVR airport today, injuring ten Regulian officials..."

Video footage showed the lion-like Regulians, each with varying degrees of injuries, rushing to escape the area.

“The Earth Confederation Front has claimed responsibility for the bombing. They have demanded that their manifesto be..."

The broadcast was cut off. Likely some Regulian bureaucrat didn't like where this was going and ordered it shut down. The reporter already did the damage by letting people know they had demands and that they're not going to be met. Things were going to get worse before they got better.

“Collaborators...rebels...bah! Both shitheads," I cursed, shutting off the screen, “Should give the rebels training in IT; they have no idea what a killing there is to be made."