"Alright, we're here, granny‑face. Tell Zysko to get the treasure out of this mutt's belly. I'll catch him for a minute," Sam muttered, shutting down the Sharkship as Rolina stepped onto the red Martian soil to greet their blue‑skinned friend.
"Rolina! Long time!" Zysko beamed, clad in a heavy, futuristic suit.
"Hey, Zys. We need help with Fuzzy's stomach." Rolina shrugged.
"Come on, Rolina. He's male—he can't be pregnant…" Zysko smirked.
Rolina glared.
"Just kidding. Don't tell me he swallowed something again—" Before he finished, Fuzzy bounded down from the ship, nuzzling Zysko's legs.
"Hey, little one. How's it going?" Zysko chuckled. Sam stumbled down, drenched in sweat. "Damn mutt! Never chasing him again," he panted.
Rolina lifted Fuzzy, showing Zysko the pup's forked tongue glowing gold from its throat. "Nice dog you've raised. Look at that belly!" Zysko laughed.
Fuzzy barked hoarsely, unlike any normal dog. "My dog doesn't sound like that," Sam muttered.
Zysko's tone shifted. "Dyromatinosyte. Not dinosaurs—predators from our old world, Kanira. Their genetics are too complex, even for us. Thanks to Earth's fossils, they were reborn. Outwardly imperfect, but genetically flawless. If you saw their ancestors, your dinosaurs would call them 'Daddy.'"
"Damn. So I've been raising a blue wolf‑dog that looks like a Tasmanian tiger on steroids," Sam scoffed. "Anyway—get the gem out. Cut, suction, whatever."
"You won't hurt him, right?" Rolina pressed.
"No one's ever been hurt by me, beautiful. What did he swallow? A flashlight?" Zysko teased, taking Fuzzy.
"A golden gem. And today's perfect—it's Seed Day for the Caesar Tree," Rolina explained.
"Oh, right! We're preparing for Celuses' descent. Busy day. Come inside."
The trio entered Zysko's square house, its furnishings forged from crystal tougher than Earth's metals. Windows shifted freely. Zysko laid Fuzzy on a glass sofa draped in red fabric.
"We'll operate now." He leaned close.
"Don't hurt him, or I'll kick you," Rolina warned.
Zysko pressed Fuzzy's temples. "Close your eyes, little one." The pup obeyed. Zysko whispered, seemingly telepathic. His hand stroked Fuzzy's belly, commanding, "Open."
Golden light rose from the pup's gut to its throat. The tongue pushed the gem upward. Zysko's wrist sparked with energy, coaxing the stone out inch by inch. "Almost… there!" He caught it in his palm.
"Whoa, that was fast," Rolina gasped.
Zysko examined it. "Never seen anything like this. Can't identify the element. Where did you find it?"
Sam answered quickly. "Meteorite. Thought it was a sun fragment. But no—you're not keeping it." He snatched it back.
"Fine. I'd love to study it, but whatever. The pup will nap now. He's fine." Zysko tickled Fuzzy's belly, the dog sprawling with legs wide. He muttered in his alien tongue.
Rolina translated: "He's asking if we want snacks."
"Why not? Bald alien hospitality," Sam grinned.
They sat on crystal sofas, warmth rising beneath them. "Feels like a spa. No wonder they call Mars the Second Field of Reeds," Sam sighed.
"True. But instead of weighing hearts with feathers, we use licenses," Zysko joked, handing them glasses of black liquid.
"No way. Smells like mother‑in‑law's foot wash," Sam refused.
"Suit yourself." Zysko drained both glasses. Sam scratched beneath his pants. "Told you it's weird. Makes my little brother burn."
Rolina stifled laughter. "And the big brother?"
"Rubbing against the little one. Five hours to tame her, every time. Ira calls me Julius, she calls herself Cleopatra." Sam waved his hand dramatically.
"Gross," Rolina gagged.
"Bonnie and Clyde, huh? Even aliens love Earth history. Your two brothers make women crazy, Sam. Wrong choice from the start," Zysko chuckled, rubbing his temples.