The subject did not greatly interest Joe. "Then they find their own food—if the koodi does not find them first."
"What in the world is a koodi?" Sue asked with a shiver.
Joe was silent for a minute. He wrinkled his broad brow and looked at me. "Samrogers, you asked me many questions about how we die. I did not understand this death for a long time. Now I know. It is when the koodi comes. He comes to the very young and to the old. The babies are too small to hold him off. The old drink much tala, then the koodi comes to them. This is my third year, and my thirst for tala is great. The koodi will come."
His words painted a clear picture of a superstitious concept of death, personifying it even as humans refer to the "grim reaper". But Sue took a different view. "What does the koodi look like?" she persisted.
Joe looked puzzled. He raised a long, four-segmented finger and pointed to a corner of the room where Toots was curled up like a fur neck-piece. "He looks like that. There is a koodi."
My first impulse was to reject the statement as ridiculous. Toots was as harmless as an over-sized kitten. Besides, the manual made no mention of—
Sue made a small sound in her throat. Her face was colorless. "Sam! Get him out of here!"
"But the manual—"
"The manual didn't mention Joe's people, either," she said half-hysterically. "Get Toots out of here."
Still unbelieving I walked over and hauled the little fuzzy animal up into my arms. Instantly, he cuddled close and rammed his pointed snout under my open collar and began nibbling at my neck. I took him outside, and out of perverse curiosity I let him have his way with my neck. At first it tickled, as always, but instead of batting his head away I let him nibble with his soft, pointed lips.