by Ruby Dixon
“And full of parasites,” I tell him, because at heart I’m still an anxious person no matter the tea in my pouch. “I need mine cooked and cooked hard.”
He laughs and gives me a smile that seems like a secret shared just for us, one that makes me feel warm and flushed all over. “I will see if we have more trail rations. They are very, very cooked.” He gets to his feet and disappears into the back of the big bay that makes up the ‘Elders’ Cave’ (which looks like the interior of an old, janky spaceship).
Of course, he’s gone for so long that it makes me aware that I’m here by myself and I haven’t really made friends with the others. Even the women that haven’t mated seem to be pairing off into friendships. Tiffany, Megan and Josie sit together, talking quietly. Nora and Stacy aren’t back. Claire chats with quiet Kira while redheaded Harlow listens in. Georgie and Vektal have their heads together and whisper things, hands touching. I’d bet money they’re going to disappear into another room soon. The longer it goes on, the less irritating I find it. Now, it’s almost kind of cute.
As I watch them, someone comes and sits down next to me. It’s one of the women, the one with the French accent that resonated a few minutes after she got her cootie. She crosses her legs and gives me an interested look, grinning. “So,” she begins in that lovely, accented voice of hers. “You are another one of us, oui? Tu résonnes?” And just in case I didn’t understand that, she puts a hand over her heart and pats it, beaming.
I nod, feeling shy. “Yeah, me and Zolaya.”
“Bon.” She beams at me. “My mate is Zennek. The blushing one.” She glances over across the fire and sure enough, one of the horned men blushes and ducks his head. The French woman just chuckles as if this is the cutest thing ever.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I forgot your name. I’m Ariana.”
“Marlene,” she says, her tongue rolling as she speaks. “I am from Paris but visiting friends in your country and…” She shrugs, her long black hair spilling down her back. “Je suis ici.”
I guess she can tell I’m American. It’s probably the accent. I nod. “Same thing here. I went to bed in my dorm room and woke up here. It’s been…an adjustment.”
She laughs as if that’s the funniest thing ever and a few of the others glance over at us with strange looks. “Adjustment, oui. Un peu.”
Zolaya looks over at us as Marlene laughs, and he pauses, stew bowl in hand, then speaks to Marlene’s mate as he waits at the edges of the group, sharpening a spear. My cootie purrs, and I hear Marlene’s purr, too, though it’s not nearly as strong and insistent as mine.
She gives me a wry look and rubs her chest. “It never stops, non?”
“No, it really doesn’t.”
“Makes it hard to sleep,” she says, her mouth pulling into a tiny smile and then she winks at me. “Of course, who wants to sleep?”
Gosh, now I see why Zennek blushes so much. Marlene’s just the most self-possessed woman I’ve ever met. It’s kind of awe-inspiring and intimidating at once. I feel like Zennek, just shrugging and blushing as she speaks. As I try to figure out what to say, she pulls out a little pouch, then extracts a bone needle and some sinew. A moment later she uncurls what looks like part of a leather bra.
I can’t help but lean over to watch her work. “Is that a bra? Where’d you get a needle?”
She looks surprised at my question but shows off the leather. “Ma petite chouchou,” she says, and looks over at Zennek with another sultry smile. “I told him I needed un soutien-gorge. How you say, a bra.” She gestures at her boobs. “Too much bouncing. He made me a needle and thread, and so I work on it.”
“I should ask Zolaya for something like that,” I tell her, hugging my knees. “I’d love a bra…and some panties.”
She gives me a look that tells me she completely understands. “These clothes, they are warm, but they are not human clothes, non?”
I smile, because Marlene’s so friendly and easygoing that it makes it a pleasure to talk to her. She hasn’t given me weird looks or acted like I’m being a baby. Maybe it’s because right after she got her cootie, she ran off with Zennek. She didn’t see some of my breakdowns like the others did. Or maybe she feels a little out of place, too, being the only foreigner amongst a bunch of Americans. “I think I’ll ask Zo for some sewing stuff in the morning. It sounds like we’ll be here a few days.”
She nods as she stabs the needle through the leather. “So the others who resonnent have time to return. Zennek, he tells me some go fast, some go slow.”
I love listening to her rich, smooth voice. It just makes everything sound so pretty. I watch her sew a stitch and say, “I guess you guys went fast, huh?”
Marlene looks over at me in surprise, her cheeks flushing.
I realize what I just said and clap a hand over my mouth to stifle my horrified giggle. “Not like that. I just meant—you guys are back before the others—I—”
She chuckles and sews a prissy little stitch with extra flourish. “Not every time fast. Some were very slow. My mate, he is new to this, but he learns very quickly.” She gives me another sly look. “And you? Very fast? You were here before us, non?”
I can feel myself blushing. I can’t tell if she’s teasing me or confronting me—or both. I suppose I deserve it after putting her on the spot, because now I’m picturing poor Zennek going “too” fast. Marlene doesn’t seem unhappy, though. Just the opposite. She keeps flicking affectionate glances at her new mate as she works her needle. When she looks over at me again, I suppose I should answer. She’s been forthright with me, after all. “Um, we haven’t exactly…done anything yet.”
Her eyes go wide and she puts her needle down. “Sans déconner?”
I don’t know what that means, but I can guess. I hold the pouch at my neck, drawing strength from it, and I glance over at Zolaya, who’s deep in conversation with Zennek. “Don’t tell the others, but, uh, I have panic attacks. It’s been tough for the last few days. I haven’t felt particularly…sexy.” God, I haven’t felt sexy at all. I’ve felt like I’m coming apart at the seams, yes. Sexy, no.
She nods in understanding, a look of sympathy in her eyes. “I will not tell.” She makes a twisting motion over her mouth as if pretending to lock her lips and throw away the key.
“Thanks,” I tell her, and mean it. I do want to keep it limited to as few people as possible. It felt right to tell Marlene though because she’s the first one of my fellow captives that I’ve really connected with. She’s going through the same thing, too. She knows what resonance is like, this unending throb in your chest. I touch my breast because my cootie’s going crazy even now. “So…what’s it like?”
“Mmm?” She pulls her gaze away from Zennek and back to me.
“Resonance?” I pitch my voice low so the others near the fire won’t hear me.
Her eyes light up with enthusiasm. Marlene leans in toward me, and I can’t help but move in closer, too. I’m so curious, and I know it’s a bold question to ask but I can’t help myself. “It is the best sex ever,” she whispers, and lets out a dreamy sigh. “Whatever you know from before, it is nothing like that.”
“Really?” I can’t help but be skeptical. “Because of the cootie?”
“Because of everything,” she insists, and gives me a knowing nod. “Wait and see. Do not be afraid.”
Afraid. Ha. Oddly enough that might be the only thing I’m not afraid of. Zolaya is so kind and sweet to me that I don’t have any fear of him. It’s just everything else on this crazy planet that makes my anxiety go nuts. I glance over at my mate—wow, feels weird to think that—and he still talks with Zennek, though another alien has joined them. I forget his name. Zolaya laughs, idly scratching his chest and looking so casually masculine that I can feel my cootie practically jumpstart in my chest once more.
“Are you waiting because you are a virgin?”
Marlene’s words sink in. I pull my gaze away from Zolaya reluctantly. “Hm? Oh, no. Not a virgin
“Zennek was a virgin,” Marlene tells me. “Zolaya might be, as well.”
“That just occurred to me about two seconds ago,” I tell her faintly.
“It will be fine,” she reassures me and stabs at her leather bra with the needle again. “Some fumbling, some laughter, but the nouvel ami here makes it all better.” She taps her chest again, indicating her khui.
She sounds so confident and cheery that it’s reassuring. “And you, what, have sex and it just stops? Stops resonating, I mean?”
“It takes many times to stop,” Marlene replies, full of answers. “Perhaps because it takes many times to become with child.” Her little shrug is careless. “It is all pleasant. Two times or twenty, you will not be complaining.”
Well, I might be complaining if it does take twenty. But I appreciate how open she is about this. I’ve thought about asking Georgie how things would go, but she’s kind of intimidating. I already worry she thinks I’m a weepy idiot, so I didn’t want to come to her with my questions. But Marlene has offered them so easily that I feel utterly grateful to her. “In case I haven’t said it yet, thank you so much for being my friend. I could really use one.”
She says something in French that loses me entirely and puts her sewing down, then cups my face and kisses my cheeks with enthusiastic, friendly little smacks. “Non, non, mon coco. We are all friends, those of us who resonated immediately. You watch. We will be a special group because we will experience all of this together. Mates, babies, all of it. You and I and the other girls when they return.” Her smile is warm and full of happiness. “You have friends, do not doubt such a thing.”
Marlene’s easiness makes me so happy. She makes it sound so simple. Maybe she’s right. Maybe those of us that resonated right away—myself, her, Georgie, Nora and Stacy—will all have a sisterhood bond of some kind and I’m just letting my anxiety run away with things as usual. I smile at her and touch the bag of tea at my neck absently. “I’d love that.”
“It will be so. Wait and see.” She picks up her sewing again and nods. “Your mate comes. I think he is jealous that I have kissed you and he has not.” She winks at me and that little smile curls her mouth again.
I can’t help but laugh because Zolaya moves next to me in the next instant, handing me a pouch of the dried trail rations and casting strange looks at Marlene. Surely he’s not jealous of a kiss on the cheek? But I notice he hovers while I eat, and it makes me feel warm inside.
Marlene doesn’t seem to have any problems with being in this strange place and bonded to a stranger. She’s happy and chatting and sewing new clothes for herself. If she finds it cold or miserable here, there’s no indication on her face.
I should be more like her. Maybe I can be. Maybe with my tea and Zolaya at my side, I can be as carelessly happy as Marlene is. I’d like that.
9
ARIANA
That night, Zolaya makes our beds a bit closer together. I’m sure some of it is because there are more people here in the Elders’ Cave now, and so it feels a bit more crowded even though there’s a lot of space. Or maybe it’s because Zennek and Marlene have returned and they’ve been on the PDA-train non-stop. They head to bed with a gleefulness that makes Josie giggle, and I have to admit, I’m relieved when they head off into the bowels of the “cave” for privacy. I’m not sure how I’d have acted if they parked their furs next to ours and then had a makeout party.
Of course, as soon as I lie down and Zolaya lies down right next to me, I can’t stop thinking about makeout parties. The moment it crosses my mind, my cootie starts thrumming madly, and then Zolaya’s starts thrumming, and then we’re both resonating so loudly I’m sure we’re going to wake someone up. It’s more than a little embarrassing.
Zolaya reaches over and touches my hand, and I practically jump in surprise. “Do you wish to go somewhere more private?”
“More private?” I whisper, my cheeks scarlet. Is that alien code for “let’s go have sex”?
“So we do not wake the others with our resonance?” His thumb strokes over my hand.
Oh. Is that what we’re worried about? “Okay, sure.” This doesn’t sound like the beginning of a makeout party, and I’m relieved. I think.
He gathers up our blankets as I stand by, and I hear Josie giggle as I follow him back into the tunnel-like hallways of the rest of the ship. I tell myself that I shouldn’t care, that it’s going to be obvious that at some point Zolaya and I are going to have sex. No sense in giggling or being embarrassed, since it’s khui-mandated. It’s completely natural. No big deal.
I’m going to keep telling myself that until I believe it, too.
We head down one of the dark halls and I follow close behind Zolaya, with his tail tip flicking against my legs as I walk. There seem to be doors along the way, some broken and fallen open, some still closed. How his people thought this was simply a cave is beyond me, but they lead a simple life. Perhaps all they require are simple answers. The anthropology student in me will probably be fascinated with all of this once I have time to absorb everything. For now, it just feels like I’m still trying to get my footing.
Zolaya’s tail twitches against my leg and my cootie gets louder even as he speeds up. Curious, I open my mouth to ask what’s wrong when I hear it—the unmistakable sounds of a pair of lovers. They’re in one of the nearby rooms and the noises carry out into the hall. Oh.
“Not this cave,” he tells me, and his tone is a little strangled. “Let us keep walking.”
“Right,” I whisper after him. I grab the tip of his tail so I don’t get lost in the dark, and he makes another choked sound. I drop it immediately. “Oh, did I hurt you?” Is his tail like a cat’s whiskers, perhaps? Sensitive?
“No. It is all right.” But he sounds strained, like it’s not all right. How odd.
Of course, it takes a few moments for it to occur to me that perhaps his tail is less like whiskers and more like…other sensitive body parts.
A hysterical giggle escapes my throat at the mental image of grabbing his dick to guide me. Somehow I think my cultural studies back on Earth didn’t prepare me for men with tails and horns and how they’d be treated in their society. I can only imagine what his face would have been like if I’d grabbed his tail in front of the others, and another smothered laugh escapes from behind my fingers.
“I am glad to hear you laugh, though I would rather it not be at me,” he says, amusement mixed with embarrassment in his tone. He glances over his shoulder at me and indicates that we continue ahead. “It is not much farther.”
“I’m laughing at myself as much as you, if that helps.”
“I am just glad to hear you laugh.”
Me, too.
Zolaya nods. “There is a small cave back here with enough room for furs. It will be quiet and you will have privacy away from the others.”
I’m surprised at his words. Just me? He’s not going to stay with me? Surely I heard him wrong.
He ducks his head and enters a small passage. I follow him inside and gaze at the clutter around us. One side of the wall is collapsed and looks as if it folded in on itself, blocking the way into a larger room. This was an entryway to a suite of some kind at one point, but now it’s just a tiny cubby of a place. Along the other wall, there are extra bundles of fur, woven baskets, and a pile of bones that looks rather ominous. “What is all this?”
“Storage,” Zolaya tells me. “The privacy screen here is thick and can be pulled easily over the entrance to prevent predators from getting into the food and leather.” He moves ahead and sets the furs down, organizing them.
I pick up one of the long, curved bones, eyeing it. “Kinda looks like the predators were already here.”
He looks over at me. “Those are for weapons and utensils. We can carve many things out of bone. It is very useful.”
I think of Marlene and her big needle. “Sewing supplies, too?”
“Yes, of course. I can make you some tomorrow if you like.”
“That would be lovely. I can think of a few things I’d like to make.” I’m starting to become adjusted to the reality that this is going to be my home. That there’s no going back. And while that realization fills me with an aching sadness, it doesn’t fill me with the despair that it did just a short time ago. I’m becoming used to it, and I’m making plans. I’ve got my herbs. I’ve got Zolaya. If I take this one day at a time, I can handle it. One of my therapist’s favorite sayings was “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.” That’s how I’m going to approach the next few days, next few weeks—one little bit at a time, so it doesn’t seem so overwhelming.
Zolaya finishes spreading the blankets and then steps back. I can’t help but notice that this room is so tiny that there’s not enough space for two beds. In fact, he’s only made the one, and it looks like he’s just piled his furs on top of mine.
I give him a questioning look.
He gestures at the bed. “You will be comfortable here. I will sleep on the other side of the privacy screen so no one will bother you.”
He keeps saying privacy screen and I have no idea what he means. All I hear is that he’s not going to sleep with me. “Why?” I blurt out before I can think it through. “Don’t you want to sleep with me? I thought that’s why we were coming back here.”
In the dark, I can’t read much of his expression. All I can see are his brightly glowing eyes. I’m sure mine are glowing, too, and I wonder how I look to him. “Resonance does not have to happen right away,” he says gently. “It will not help your fears if I toss you onto the furs and claim you like a rutting metlak.”
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