Affiliations, Aliens, and Other Profitable Pursuits

by Lyn Gala

  “I’m learning, but that means I still don’t know enough to handle them. You have stepped outside of your point of view and managed to make yourself more a part of Rownt culture than any other human before you.”

  “You talk like this is something unusual. The only advantage I had was that a bad commander made a choice to humiliate me in public. When he did that, Ondry felt a need to protect me. The second Ondry pressed the temple to take custody of me away from the humans, I had to become part of Rownt culture. It’s not like I set out to integrate with them.”

  Diallo shook her head. “I read your reports. You were moving toward the Rownt point of view long before Ondry made his move. Before you, no human had ever been pulled toward the Rownt psychologically. The Rownt are often described as cold and distant. They react in ways that horrified most of the soldiers who went to Prarownt to trade. They have no instinct to help the sick or injured.”

  Liam was incredibly grateful Diallo was having this conversation in English where some of the nuance might be lost on other Rownt, like Tik, who was likely listening to every word even as he made a show of cooking. Liam lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned across the table. “You’re making it sound like they’re monsters. They aren’t. An individual who is strong and confident should be able to take care of himself after an injury. When the kawt attacked Ondry, he didn’t need medical help. Rownt are amazingly durable. They have very little in the way of medical care because they simply don’t need it. And in an emergency or if there’s some disaster, a temple will provide basic care.”

  “Basic care, maybe. But if they need continued care, their fellow Rownt are unlikely to provide it,” Diallo whispered. “That’s the shift in thinking most of your colleagues couldn’t overcome. You are able to see their society is different without bringing your personal judgment into the equation, and that made you able to see the world through Rownt eyes. I will never be as good at seeing Rownt culture and Rownt beliefs as you are. And that’s why you need to be in there negotiating with those Grandmothers. I can explain Rownt to humans, but you have to be the one to explain humans to Rownt, because I don’t connect with their cultural landscape.”

  “You think I’m a better linguist?” Now Liam was shocked, but Ondry darkened some, which made it fairly clear he was pleased at the thought, even if he would never engage in conversation with Diallo. His tail slid up Liam’s leg and curled against his crotch so that for a second, Liam completely lost his train of thought.

  “Not at all, but you’re a damn good linguist—not as good as I am, but damn good given you’ve had very little training. Hell, maybe your instincts for it are better than mine, and I don’t say that lightly because I’m pretty damn vain about my linguistic abilities. But I am used to other ways of thinking, and you are used to Rownt.”

  “Other ways?” Liam stopped when Tik appeared with food. Discussing business over eating was not acceptable. Besides, Tik had managed to find a number of sweet fruits and soft breads and cheeses, so Liam planned to enjoy his food.

  Tik offered Liam and Ondry their plates before giving Diallo hers. “A wise trader knows a status earned too young can become a burden,” he said before he gave Ondry another look. Liam was beginning to dislike Ka-Tik.

  Ondry gave a little whistle, and the end of his tail wiggled into Liam’s pants. Liam caught it and held it with one hand while trying to appear calm as he ate his fruit.

  “The food is much better than the Anla ever offered,” Diallo said, and then she looked at Liam as though expecting something.

  “The meat is a little tough for human teeth, but I love Rownt cheese,” Liam said. Whatever worry she had in her head, the answer seemed to soothe her, because she smiled and nodded.

  “Lieutenant Spooner said most of the traders refused to eat the food because it was bitter, but I suppose that’s because they didn’t know what to ask for when they went to a server.”

  “And a server probably wouldn’t bring them food,” Liam said. The food servers ran such a complex trade, mentally cataloging the information a diner brought against the food he consumed, that Liam was sure no human could ever hope to untangle the obligations. Liam only got served because the vendors trusted Ondry to pay his debts. Liam wasn’t sure what it meant that Tik had offered Diallo her own plate—except he might have too much sweet fruit on hand.

  Liam glanced over, but Ondry was eating without showing any sign of distress other than the occasional narrowed nostrils when he looked at Diallo.

  “Anla often share food, but what they offer depends on whether you fall in the salient or gregarious ranks. Most of the time, I got nutritious if utterly boring rations that made military meals taste like treats.”

  Liam grimaced.

  “That’s how I felt, but the gregarious didn’t much care about eating as a social ritual, so they mostly wanted to get some nutrients in them and move on.”

  “That’s different,” Liam said. He had the distinct feeling she was trying to make a point, but as usual, he figured she had aimed that point about a mile over his head. He might understand Rownt better, but he was losing his ability to decode humans.

  “Very different,” she agreed. “Salients are Anla leaders. They don’t have many, but the ones who do emerge seem to develop some biological differences.”

  “What do you mean, they emerge?” Liam asked. When he’d started studying languages, he’d tried to learn Anla, but the logic of the language had escaped him, so he’d never even gotten to the lessons about Anla culture or biology.

  “The species is a collective—like a hive mind. Only some of them can form individual personalities, and even those don’t form any independence unless the hive has a lack of leadership. Then they go into a sort of hibernation, and when they emerge, they are unique. They’re separate from the majority, which we call gregarious Anla.”

  “Gregarious…forming groups?” Liam asked. He didn’t know the word, but it felt strange having to ask for clarification in his own language.

  Diallo popped a berry in her mouth as she gave him a quick nod. “They instinctively seek groups. They want their group to be stronger. They have a flocking instinct incompatible with humans, but I worked with Anla often enough that there is probably some part of me that feels that same drive to support the group.”

  She stared at him, and Liam finally made the connection. She might adapt to Rownt, but she would always have some bits of Anla deep inside. Part of her psyche had adapted to a species that existed only in groups, so now she felt more comfortable in a group, and right now Liam and Ondry were the closest thing she had.

  Liam tightened his hold on Ondry’s tail and wondered how he was supposed to explain that the human Ondry wanted to kill looked to Ondry to lead? That didn’t make sense, not even in Liam’s head.

  Ondry thinly sliced some meat and offered it to Liam on the end of his knife. Liam took it with a smile, but he found he wasn’t enjoying the food much anymore. Diallo did have a habit of being very poor for his digestion in general.

  When he gazed at her, she smiled—a wide human expression that contrasted sharply against her dark skin. For Rownt, the showing of teeth was a threat, but then she wasn’t Rownt. And if Liam understood her correctly, she wasn’t entirely human in her thinking, either. Liam didn’t know how to describe her, other than annoying.

  Chapter Three

  The door closed behind them, leaving Ondry and Liam in their living quarters. The stress faded away. This was home. It had much of their furniture from Prarownt, and the inner room had the pillows from Ondry’s nest and the mural Liam had chosen to have painted on the walls. Originally Liam had wanted a scene from a scroll featuring one of his favorite Rownt characters, a female trader named Ponec. However, that scene would have included her fighting a pair of mated kawt. Liam didn’t want to tempt fate and Ondry’s limited patience, so he’d chosen a scene from the Ginal stories. It showed Ginal upending a cart full of spices—the wealth of a lifetime—in order to show the
foolishness of battle and the destruction the two towns would cause over a property line dispute. The artist who had painted it had turned the streaks of spice in the dust into something both realistic and surreal with red and gold and black staining the brown Prarownt soil.

  Ondry stroked Liam’s neck. “Something the female said upset you.”

  Liam laughed. “You’re far more upset about her than I am.”

  “True,” Ondry agreed, “but irrelevant to my statement.”

  Liam leaned into Ondry’s solid frame. He was the center of Liam’s world, but Liam had no idea how the center would hold when they had to deal with humans. Many humans. “Diallo suggests that she thinks in ways compatible with Anla, and we are the only group she can turn to, so she feels drawn to us.”

  Ondry paled so fast it was almost as if Liam could see the color drain from his face and arms. “If she thinks as the Anla think, she is not to be listened to. They are a banned species because of their dangerous illogic. We should tell the Grandmothers.” Ondry huffed and then continued in a much more subdued tone. “Which would be regarded as rather arrogant.”

  “Good, because I want her around when we have to talk to humans. Wait. Why would that be arrogant? Do you think the Grandmothers already understand Diallo or that they would want to figure it out for themselves?”

  Ondry sat on the cushions, tugging Liam down next to him. Their main room was decorated in blues and blacks that reminded Liam of a teenager obsessed with all things outer space, but the cushions were from home and amazingly comfortable. “I think if she is like the Anla, that would explain why she continues to support my status when I have made no attempts to hide my own desire to rip her internal organs out. The Grandmothers can learn a poorly kept secret on their own ship.”

  “Does this change your desire to rip out her organs?” Liam asked hopefully. He respected Diallo, and they all needed her. A little less aggression would make life easier.

  Ondry’s nose clamped shut. “No!” He pulled Liam to his chest and held him tightly. Liam squirmed until he could get an arm free. He laid his hand on Ondry’s fora and traced tiny circles. The spot on the neck marked the place where an embryonic Ondry had once been attached to his egg lining—the equivalent of a human belly button, only for Rownt the skin was hardwired to some sort of relaxation instinct. Almost immediately, the tension left Ondry’s body. There was an almost addictive quality to the fora—for both of them. The fact that Liam could bring Ondry such pleasure made him feel good.

  However, Ondry caught Liam’s wrist in a firm hold. “If you continue, I will be unable to do anything other than crawl to the nest and rumble with pleasure.”

  Liam smiled. “That’s a good plan.”

  “Not as good as the one I have.” Ondry stood, lifting Liam easily. “I once promised to chain you to my nest and keep you hard all day while you leaked those wonderful scents of yours.” Ondry huffed, and Liam’s cock grew hard at the thought. He loved stroking Ondry’s fora and bringing him obvious pleasure, but he loved the look of pride Ondry would get when he took control of Liam’s body—of Liam’s cock. The amazing sex was a nice bonus too.

  “I might like that plan.”

  “‘Might’ is the incorrect form of the verb.” Ondry put Liam down and urged him toward the private inner room.

  “What verb would you suggest?” Liam started unbuttoning his shirt.

  Ondry corrected his grammar. “You will like that plan, or perhaps you are liking that plan.”

  “You’re assuming a lot,” Liam teased. Ondry tilted his head for a second, but then he seemed to understand the challenge. He surged forward, caught Liam up, and tackled him right into nest. Liam yelped, but they landed with Ondry on the bottom, and he held Liam close to his chest.

  “I do assume a lot,” Ondry said, and his tail slid along Liam’s spine and then pushed past the waistband of Liam’s pants. Liam jerked as the tip teased his hole with a slight flicker.

  “You cheat in trades,” Liam said.

  Ondry darkened in pleasure. “I do.” He pushed his tail against the ring of muscle and then slid across Liam’s hole and perineum.

  Liam shivered with need and arched his back.

  “I believe I have evidence my conjugation of the verb is more correct than yours,” Ondry said. Liam might have come up with a witty comeback, only Ondry pressed the tip of his tail against Liam’s ass. Liam writhed, and he lost all interest in witty comebacks or anything else that involved a working brain.

  Liam clutched Ondry’s shirt, tugging at it ineffectively. Luckily, Ondry understood. He quickly jerked the shirt off and tossed it outside the nest, and now Liam could run his hands over the muscled form and the soft skin that was slightly cooler than a human’s. Ondry shifted to the side, and Liam slipped off him and onto the pillow to his right. Liam reached for Ondry’s pants, but before he could reach them, Ondry caught him by the wrists and pinned him on his back. When Ondry hovered over him, Liam felt so wonderfully trapped. He needed another word for it because trapped had such negative associations, and Liam loved this feeling. It was love and caring and safety and comfort all in one. Trapped was not fearing the future because Ondry would never let go. Every time Ondry pinned him down, Liam had physical proof that he could trust Ondry to always want him—always hold him close. Sometimes the old fears haunted him, but Ondry’s promise to never let him leave comforted Liam.

  Ondry held him firmly for a time, his weight and the shape of the nest confining Liam as effectively as any bondage. “You smell good.” Ondry huffed. He stripped Liam of his shirt and then proceeded to sniff him. That shouldn’t be erotic, but it was. Liam’s cock was getting harder and harder.

  “You like the smell of lust,” Ondry said happily. “I like your lust.” Ondry moved Liam’s wrists closer together so he could hold both while he reached for the restraints that lay next to the bed. Ondry had read the information Diallo had given him too carefully. He had asked Liam about hand restraints until he had forced Liam to admit he enjoyed having his hands cuffed. That way he didn’t have to worry about doing the wrong thing and displeasing a partner. Liam had quickly followed up with his desire to have his hands free so he could stroke Ondry’s fora, but Ondry had obtained restraints anyway.

  Now he pulled the soft but durable mesh around Liam’s wrists and hands and pulled the bag-like garment tight. A quick knot and Liam’s hands were completely immobilized.

  Liam arched his back and groaned in need. “This is cheating.”

  “You are my palteia. I cannot cheat you because you are part of me. However, I am happy to overpower you,” Ondry said. He curled his fingers around Liam’s neck and pulled him close while wrapping his tail around Liam’s leg. Liam groaned. He still had his pants on, so Ondry wasn’t rushing to the main event.

  Ondry huffed, smelling Liam’s armpit as he tightened his tail. Then slowly Ondry worked the loop of his tail higher and higher until it was so high it was tucked up beside Liam’s balls. Liam squirmed at the promise of sex, but Ondry did not seem to be in any hurry. When Liam’s struggles grew wild, Ondry pinned Liam’s restrained hands.

  “Tell me a good memory of Earth.”

  “What? Now?” Liam couldn’t think now. Ondry slipped the buttons free on Liam’s pants and then slowly pulled them down.

  “You will be here awhile, palteia of mine.” Ondry used his foot to tug Liam’s pants all the way off and then tossed them out of the nest. “So tell me one good memory.”

  “I…uh…” Liam stretched, and Ondry stroked Liam’s thigh softly.

  “Just one,” Ondry said. He squeezed his tail around Liam’s leg.

  Liam wanted to ignore the request, but he liked making Ondry happy, and Ondry so rarely came out and asked for something. Liam considered talking about the times when, as a small boy, he would go to houses with his mother when she would clean. He would play in the corner of the room, and she would sing to him.

  But thinking of his mother reminded him of too many difficul
t times. Liam did have good memories of San Francisco, from before he had buried himself under a mountain of bad choices, the worst of which had been Mort, who had used false declarations of love to manipulate Liam into prostitution.

  “I used to go out on Cabrillo Highway by Half Moon Bay and watch the waves come in. I’d sit on these big rocks that had been worn smooth over years, or I would walk along the sand gathered at the edge of the water. The ocean has carved out the side of the land, and so there are places where the ground is hollowed out below and you can walk under it. I could see the hills to the south and the water going on forever, and sometimes when the waves got tall, people would come out and ride these long pieces of wood that they balanced on top of the moving water.” Liam had no idea if Rownt had a word that came even close to surfing or surfboards. They were dense and heavy creatures, and Liam suspected swimming was not one of their many talents.

  Ondry rumbled, and he used his tail to tease Liam. He ran it along the soft skin of Liam’s balls, and then the tip teased at his entrance again. Liam spread his legs and considered begging for more, but Ondry was dark with pleasure, and Liam wanted to indulge his chilta.

  “Tell me of this place,” Ondry said after a long silence.

  “The people who came there were very kind, and sometimes they would bring me pieces of fruit they had stolen from the fields. There were…” Liam struggled for a word, and Ondry’s tail slid away. A sigh of disappointment escaped before Liam could stop it. However, he focused on Ondry’s question. “I don’t have a word, but they were unwelcome in society. In English, I would say they were exiles, although the common name for them was floaters.”