by Lyn Gala
“You are palteia because you cared for Qii’s success more than your own.”
Again, Amryi gave a strangled laugh. It was a strange sound. “Yeah, I guess I did. I guess it never occurred to me that the old bastard might go and die on me.”
That was illogical. Ondry always said that when humans appeared illogical, it meant that they knew some fact that they had not shared.
“Rownt always care about palteia.” Takil might have added that they felt for palteia the same as they felt toward children, but that statement upset Liam, and Takil had learned to keep palteia and children far apart in his mind.
Amryi shook his head. “What do you want?”
“To make sure you are taken care of,” Takil said. He hesitated before risking his status by giving a more honest answer. “To take care of you.”
Amryi stared at him, his eyes wide as he searched for some truth in Takil’s face. Takil tried to keep his expression open and maintain a steady gaze so Amryi could read the truth in his words.
Slowly, Amryi shook his head. “I know you guys like submissives, but trust me, I am not one. I’m horrified by that tail of yours. I’m an asexual. I don’t want anything going up the down chute, and the only thing I want to do with my penis is piss. Sometimes I might enjoy a little relationship with my left hand, but that’s as far as I’ll go, and I don’t go there often. So whatever weird thoughts you have about wanting a relationship,” and he wagged his finger between himself and Takil before finishing, “you can think again.”
Takil widened his eyes in confusion. “What does non-procreative sex have to do with relating to one another?”
Amryi blinked quickly again. Perhaps the gesture meant frustration because Takil was certainly frustrated with this conversation. He knew humans better than any Rownt alive outside of Liam and Zach, and yet sometimes he felt as if he did not understand them at all.
“Your palteia have sex with tails, right?”
“My Liam does,” Takil said. “But it is not sex when there are no genitals and no children are intended. It is pleasure. Non-procreative pleasure. But I do not know of any other palteia who enjoys pleasure.” He assumed most shared ilsil, but that was not the sort of pleasure humans associated with tails or sex or even relationships. They paid people at spas to perform human ilsil. To pay for such an intimate act felt profane.
“Wait. So chilta and palteia—it’s an asexual thing? Really?”
“Most have sex outside the chilta-palteia relationship,” Takil said. “If no female chooses them or if they are female and they find no suitable males in the area, then they will be asexual.”
Amryi snorted. “Asexual doesn’t mean you’re not having sex at a particular moment. It means you don’t want sex. Or at the very least, you aren’t going to go out of your way to have it.”
“Would asexuals engage in sex if they wished for children?”
“Maybe. Some of them.”
Takil considered this information. “Then Rownt are asexual by nature. Unless I want a woman to have an egg using my genetics, I am uninterested in sex.” And given how many high-ranked Rownt lived on the Calti, Takil was unlikely to have sex any time in the next century or two. However, Ondry had ensured that their genetic line would continue and by the time Takil was ka-ranked, he would have Grandmothers pulling his tail.
“But. Seriously? You’re fucking asexual?”
“We are not fucking,” Takil said, “unless we wish for children.”
“I... uh...” Amryi sighed and rubbed his hand over his face again. Takil did not understand what he had said that would warrant such a reaction. “Look, it’s been a damn long day. Why are you still here? I want to go home and sleep.”
“I am here to make sure you have a chilta who will make sure you take care of yourself. I want to know you are safe and happy.”
“Happy.” Amryi huffed. “I’ll never be happy again, so you can give up on that.”
Takil would’ve expected as much of a palteia.
“Will you leave now?”
“Do you have someone who ensures you take care of yourself?” Takil asked. Amryi would not love a new chilta quickly. He would mourn Qii, and since he had never transferred his loyalty, that mourning might last far longer than a Rownt would suffer given the same loss.
Amryi stared at Takil, and Takil gazed back. Waiting. The longer the silence continued, the more Takil believed that Amryi did not have anyone. To be palteia and alone was unthinkable.
“What do you hope to accomplish by sitting in this fucking bar and reminding me that I don’t have anyone at home? Qii’s wife didn’t even want me staying in the fucking house once he’d died. And what the fuck will you do about any of it?” He stood so fast that his chair flew backward and clattered to the floor. Takil recognized fury and pain. The two emotions were not so different on human and Rownt faces.
“I will wait until you choose someone or I will bring Rownt food and teach you of our tastes so you can learn to make drinks that Rownt would enjoy. And then I will show you the strength of my commitment until you agree to come with me and run a serving station on the Calti.” Takil was risking his pride by saying as much. Amryi was much more highly ranked. And while Takil was likely older, by human reckoning of lifespan, Amryi was the elder. He had run a successful business. He had proved himself.
Takil was a youngling who struggled to make his donations to the temple. However, he was the one who saw the pain in Amryi’s eyes, and he would not leave until Amryi had a chilta. The likelihood that Amryi would choose him was low, but no Rownt would walk past a palteia without offering. Not unless that Rownt were palteia himself.
Actually, given the palteia need to soothe and serve another, two palteia might try to comfort each other, although Takil had no idea how that would work.
“You want me to what?” The anger fell away, but Amryi took a step backward.
Takil had expected rejection. “I know I do not have the rank to offer to one as successful as you, but I will come every night and I will make my offer until you choose another chilta and I know you have rejected me.” Takil stood and walked toward the exit.
“Maybe I don’t want anyone, did you think of that, fuckwit?” Amryi called after him.
Takil turned. “I had not. A Rownt palteia would never choose to be alone. It would not be healthy because they would not care for themselves as a chilta would care for them. It would make it difficult for them to work their trade. If a human palteia is happy alone, tell me. If you are happy alone, tell me, and I will not return.”
Takil waited.
Amryi stared at him. Silent.
“Tomorrow I will bring gasha berries and kaile. Rownt favor the taste.” He turned again toward the exit.
“Come at three so we can experiment before the bar opens,” Amryi called.
The skin around Takil’s eyes tightened. “I shall.” He would have to rearrange some trades, but that was a price he would pay.
“And I’m only doing this to steal some trade secrets. I want to know how to attract rich clients.” Amryi yelled as Takil opened the exit door.
Takil turned and bowed. “I would expect no less from a well-respected server of ka-status.” Forming a smile that felt unnatural to a Rownt mouth, Takil prayed to long-dead gods that he could earn this one. Failing that, he hoped that someone of high status would notice that Amryi needed someone. No palteia should go into his last years alone. Takil would label himself ye-dalit if he allowed this one to.
“Fucking turtles, strange to the end.” Amryi picked up the chair he had knocked over. But he didn’t turn his back on Takil, which gave him some hope. Now Takil had to trade for gasha berries, and given how far they were from Prarownt, that would be a dear trade indeed. Maybe the Grandmothers had some. He was still young enough that they allowed him to steal a little from their plates. He was not above abusing that privilege. Not in these circumstances.
A Rownt would trade away pride for a chance to be a chilta. Nothing
was worth more.
Endings
Liam knew he shouldn’t have been there, but this was his son. Their son. He leaned back into Ondry’s arms and imagined his chilta’s amusement. He felt his son’s aggravation every time Takil looked toward them.
But Liam wanted to be here for this. Amryi was putting the last of his boxes into the back of a vehicle.
Nothing could take Takil’s status now. He was a ye-youngling who had claimed a ka-ranked palteia. It meant that no Rownt of any status would ever name either’s rank again. They could not insult Amryi by calling either ye, even if the man would neither understand nor care about titles. But they would not give Takil a status that would make it impossible for any of his ye-inspired errors to be forgotten.
Amryi stopped outside the club, his hand resting on the brick next to the door. His shoulders heaved, and Takil wrapped his arms around Amryi. Another Rownt might’ve hesitated to share such intimate touch in public, especially a Rownt as young as Takil. However, Takil was an unusual Rownt. Liam was so proud of him that he felt the ache in his chest.
“You raised a good eggling,” Ondry rumbled.
“We did,” Liam agreed. He had to avoid the sight of other egglings because Rownt heavy with eggs found every reason to be near them. Someday soon, Liam might consider egg-shaped objects with favor, but right now, he was enjoying having all Ondry’s attention to himself.
While that was selfish, a hundred years of guiding an eggling as stubborn as Takil took a toll on a man.
Amryi straightened, and Takil stepped back. Amryi had an almost Rownt-attitude about most topics, and Liam hoped that would serve both of them well on the ship. After a quick tug on his shirt hem, he turned his back on the club he and his brother had run and headed for the truck.
Takil hurried after him.
Liam stood across the street watching his son and his son’s palteia drive away. He was so damn proud of that boy. Ondry’s arms tightened around Liam’s stomach, and Liam rubbed them. In hundreds of years, Earth had changed, political realities had changed, alliances had changed, but Ondry never changed.
Ondry bent forward to speak in Liam’s ear. “I would like to go back to the nest and tie you to the edge so I can tease you until you forget your name.”
Liam shivered. Thank the non-existent gods and any God that might exist that Ondry never changed. “Yes, please,” Liam said. That sounded like a perfect ending, and maybe even a perfect beginning to a new phase for them as well as for Takil.
Lyn Gala
Lyn Gala started writing in the back of her science notebook in third grade and hasn't stopped since. Westerns starring men with shady pasts gave way to science fiction with questionable protagonists which eventually became any story with a morally ambiguous character. Even the purest heroes have pain and loss and darkness in their hearts, and that's where she likes to find her stories. Her characters seek to better themselves and find the happy (or happier) ending. When she isn't writing, Lyn Gala teaches history in a small town in New Mexico. Her favorite spot to write is a flat rock under a wide tree on the edge of the open desert where her dog can terrorize local wildlife. Writing in a wide range of genres, she often gravitates back to adventure and BDSM, stories about men in search of true love and a way to bring some criminal to justice...unless they happen to be the criminals.
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