SF Drabble #295 “Customs”

“Anyone coming down today?” The Supervisor asked conversationally.

“Manifest says three Polixac, a Yourian and something called a Hourch.”

“Never heard of ‘em.” He checked the spelling and typed it into his pad. “Hourch. Non-sapient exomorph native to Youri, quadrupedal, three meters long, often kept as a companion by wealthy Yourians.”

“So, a pet.”

“Looks like.”

“Never had a pet come down before. Do we have rules for that?”

“I’d assume the Polixac do. You should ask.”

“You’re not staying?”

“I’ve got an appointment over at Terminal Three.”

“Have fun with that.”

“Don’t get eaten.”

“Hey, thanks. Thanks a lot.”

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