On Disposing of a Corpse
by Tom Jolly
The two men walked slowly through the graveyard, glancing at the five-or-ten word death-tweets carved on the stones. Roger Hartley seemed agitated as they passed more and more of the worn and overgrown headstones. They all seemed too old, few showing terminus dates later than 1900.
"It's buried here, with the humans?"
Max Vincent smiled thinly, and replied, "No, he's in with the pets."
"Pets? It wasn't a pet."
"It wasn't even an it," Max corrected. "He was most definitely a he."
"Oh... yes, of course." He blushed, then was irritated with himself at having done so. "How is it that no one knows where it... he was buried?"
"We didn't make an issue of it. Kept publicity down." Max stopped and looked around, squinting against the late sun. "Ah, over here a bit."
"There's some question about how you landed the contract so quickly to get rid of the body," Roger said.