Hullabaroo

"Guess what I got in my pocket 'n I'll give it to you."

"What?" I stared at the kangaroo. "It can only be one thing. Surely you wouldn't give me that."

The creature rolled her eyes. She must see me as simple minded, like the males of her own species, built for fighting over females and not much else. "You think all I do is mind the baby?" she said. "I've been department head here for seven years, and before that I ran a sheep station."

I knew that, of course. Kangaroo staff eliminates the need for expensive robots in the contaminated territories. They're even cheaper than humans.

"Look," I said. "I'm just here to match your toxin samples against our needs. Another plague. Asian this time. It'll get to Australia eventually and we want to be ready."

The kangaroo slid from the chair and dragged herself to the cabinet using her front paws. They'd been redesigned to give her opposable thumbs, but that made it harder for her to move like a kangaroo. She took down a tray of petri dishes and pushed them across the counter. All were capped and labeled.

I ran a finger over the labels. Nothing here. "Is this it, Marla?"

The roo tilted her head, her way of shrugging. "Collecting's hard this time of year. The heat keeps bugs under and I don't have enough K-pickers with toxin immunities."

I didn't believe her. Not about the difficulty of collecting poisons during the Big Heat. About what she was showing me. Toxins that might resolve an altered virus were worth money. Lots. Marla may not have many desires, but she'd certainly have some.

"Right. You want me to play guessing games. You've got more samples in your pouch."

"No. Try again."

Bleedin' animal, I thought. I'd never say it. Roo's can be touchy and Marla's a good bit stronger than me. "Okay, let me think."

I stared at the pouch. Nothing moving there, so likely not a joey. While I considered, Marla licked her deformed, almost-human hands and ran the saliva along her ears. God, I hated working with these creatures.

"It's face cream or some other junk you sheilas kit about."

"No." It was like talking to a kid.

"Come on, Marla. Give us a break."

Marla's furry hand pressed her jaw, a human gesture. It disgusted me. "Why'd they send you, Simon?" she asked. "You're no roo lover. We don't work well together."

She had me there. "What do you want from me? I didn't grow up talking to roos. You'd be in a zoo in my world."

"Well," she said. "At least we both know where we stand. Now, what's in my pouch?"

"I don't know. The last living koala?"

Marla chuffed. "Not bloody likely."

"I can make things hard for you," I told her. In fact, I could lean on certain people in animal management, but it wouldn't do me much good. If I got rid of her, they'd bring in another kangaroo, and they're all the same.

"Hard you say. Yeah, well, nothin's easy," Marla said. Her long lashes came down. "I got a joey who's in for fightin.' Another one wants upgrading, but there's no money for that 'less he's needed to work somewhere. And he ain't because he's got no upgrading."

Now I was getting somewhere. She did need money and there were better toxin trays hidden in this lab. I'd been hoping for a confession, but hadn't expected one so soon.

The kangaroo scratched at the fur on her right side. "I got them two joeys to do for, so..."

"So you found a possible cure. And now you're selling it to the bleedin' Americans."

"They'll need it sooner," Marla said. "But you're wrong, Simon. My people won't get sick, but we are Aussie. That's why I hoped you'd guess I had a gun. I really would have given it to you." She pulled it from her pouch.

Lucky for me, Marla was a roo. The law says they can't own legal guns and she didn't have the swag for an illegal one. Still, I skipped a few heartbeats before I realized it was a toy. I reached across the floor tiles and took it from her.

Two days later my people found her hidden sample tray. Marla's not a bad sort, as roos go. I felt a bit sad to see her sent back to the bush, beyond the fence. I mean, what will a talking kangaroo with opposable thumbs do out there?

THE END

Bio: Kim Mary Trotto is a retired journalist. Her young adult story The Last Memory of Bally will appear in the Webzine Frontier Tales. She has published features and news stories in weekly New Jersey Newspapers and Air Force magazines. Kim is a member of the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators and attends two very dynamic critique groups. She has a degree in Journalism and continues to pursue her interest in writing fantasy and science fiction though venues like Gotham Writers' Workshops in New York City and top-rated Webzines. She is married and lives on the Jersey Shore.

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