Not of This World

by Tracy St. John

  Jeannie noted Kren’s mouth dropping open in surprise. He even acted impressed, though his artwork had been far better than hers. He probably hadn’t gone to design school either. Fashion would not be high on the Risnarish list of priorities, she thought with amusement.

  She pointed to the sheath. “Clothes. Give me material and I can make them,” she said, tugging gently at her towel and then making cutting motions over it.

  Kren frowned and seemed to think the matter over. He tossed his damp towel into a nearby bin and motioned for Jeannie to follow him.

  They left the closed-off lavatory, entering the wider space of the dome. Kren led her to the large cubicle that held the platform with its cushioned top. Probably his bed. Her eyes narrowed, but Kren ignored the platform and considered a stack of cubbies alongside the wall. He pulled out a swath of cornflower blue fabric that was the right size for the bed. A sheet, she surmised.

  Carrying the fabric over to the kitchen, he searched through cabinets until he came up with what looked like a television remote control and a rolled-up strip of clear packing tape. He laid out the sheet on the countertop.

  Motioning Jeannie closer, Kren showed her the black remote. It had only two buttons with odd symbols etched on them. One end, which he pointed at the fabric, had a small hole in the middle.

  Kren pushed the uppermost button. A red light streamed from the hole, burning into the sheet. It was a laser, Jeannie realized. Kren cut a thin strip from the edge of the sheet, demonstrating its use.

  He switched it off with the second button. Jeannie picked up the strip he’d cut, checking the countertop. She’d expected to see a cut in the hard, white surface. There was no hint of damage, not even when she rubbed her fingers over the area.

  “Nice. Faster than scissors too,” she told Kren. The edge where he’d cut was clean, with no threads coming loose from the fabric. It was as if the material was fused as well as cut.

  He showed her the roll of clear tape next. He peeled it loose from the next layer of the roll. Once he’d torn off a tiny piece, he stuck it to one end of the thin strip of material he’d cut away. Then he pressed the opposite end to the exposed part of the tape. The two ends stuck, even when Kren strained to pull them apart. Jeannie didn’t know if she was more impressed with the strength of the sheet and the tape or the muscles that popped out on Kren’s arms when he tried to tear the fused length.

  Jeannie nodded to show she understood. She looked forward to working with the items Kren had found for her, particularly since the sheet was soft as well as sturdy.

  “Boknoz,” she said, feeling as if she’d accomplished a great feat when the drawing screen appeared before her. After a few miscommunications, she got Kren to show her how to enlarge the screen, which only required putting her fingers at its edges and widening the reach of her arms.

  “I could get used to this kind of technology,” she told the curious Risnarish male. He blinked in response and shrugged with a smile. Then he handed her a thin rod with a pointy end.

  Jeannie used it to draw a pattern for the dress she wanted to make. This, she was good at. After years of custom designing clothing and using herself as the model, she knew the measurements she needed. She had the simple design done within half an hour.

  As she’d hoped, she was able to have the hologram lie on the fabric stretched along the counter. Using the laser box, she cut the pieces she needed. It went quickly once she got used to the cutter.

  The fusing tape was harder to handle. It tended to stick in the wrong places, and Jeannie kept having to cut wrinkles and hanging edges away. However, less than two hours after she started, she had a finished dress.

  Smiling in triumph, she held it up to show Kren. “Mission accomplished!” she said with glee.

  * * *

  Kren was impressed with Jeannie’s handiwork. It was obvious she’d fashioned similar pieces of what she called clothes before. The alacrity with which she’d put her body covering together had been a wonder to watch.

  At first he’d thought he’d handle the cutter for her, but not because he hadn’t believed her capable of using it. His concern had been that she might turn it on him as a weapon. Even his armored skin was susceptible to a low-power laser like the one he used about the house for odd jobs. But if he stayed alert, he could avoid injury and disarm her quickly. Seeing that the thought never occurred to her for a single second had assured him that he’d read Jeannie right. She was not violent. That had to count in her favor with Mekay and the rest of the elders.

  Kren had come to another realization as he’d watched her work. Jeannie’s ease in assembling an outer covering for her body told him this was the norm for her kind. Her modesty made all the more sense now. With all that unarmored skin, she needed a defense, though a soft bedsheet offered little in the way of protection.

  She slipped behind a partition wall to swap the towel for her clothes piece. Jeannie came out dressed and beaming. She walked back and forth and turned this way and that to show off her accomplishment to Kren. She seemed more at ease than ever before, her smile radiant. The blue of the fabric brought out her amazing eyes. He applauded her new covering, glad it made her happy. Hiding that lovely form was a shame, though.

  Not allowed to touch. Not allowed to look. It was too bad. Yet Jeannie’s joy lit her sweet face, and her obvious delight pulled at Kren’s hearts. Clothed or bare, she was astounding.

  Jeannie followed up the garment she called a dress with two more items: a blouse and a skirt, contrived of a cream-colored sheet Kren provided. She glowed as she modeled her new pieces for his approval. They were nice, especially how they flattered her slender and yet curving figure.

  She was happy. She also seemed much more relaxed. Seeing her that way made Kren resolve to take her to the weaving guild at the first possible opportunity to select better fabrics for her clothes.

  Then he remembered he might not have the opportunity to take her to the guild. His stomachs churned when he contemplated bringing her to Mekay the next morning. If the elder decided she was indeed a Monsudan construct, there would be no more clothes for Jeannie.

  Jeannie laid out her blouse and skirt on a shelf. She yawned hugely as she did so, as any exhausted Risnarish might. Again Kren was struck by their similarities. Creatures from the other planets he knew of did not yawn. It was thought to be a characteristic belonging only to the beings of Risnar.

  Kren reached under his bed and rolled out the guest platform. He pushed it close to the chimney since Jeannie seemed to like hovering near the warmth. He dressed its mattress in his depleted supply of bed linens and demonstrated its use to his guest, miming going to sleep. Jeannie gave him an amused look before getting into the bed. She waved him off, wriggling strangely beneath the top cover. He walked off, wondering what his lovely but bizarre visitor was doing now.

  He peeked at her as he climbed onto his own platform. She lay down, her dress draped at the end of the bed. Ah, she had decided to sleep nude. His loins throbbed again, and he turned angrily. Why did the Hyoo-man have to affect him so?

  He had an early day tomorrow, yet sleep eluded him as his mind churned over what his meeting with Mekay might bring. Perhaps the elder would not even bother to call together the council. He might order her destroyed right away.

  You know better. Mekay always takes his time considering matters from every angle. That quality had driven Kren up the wall in his youth. Mekay had been one of his boyhood guardians, a man Kren had once considered too careful and conscientious. Tomorrow he would be relying on those very qualities to save Jeannie.

  Kren listened hard to get a sense of whether or not his guest lay awake. Maybe she also wondered what the next day would bring. His ears cupped in the effort to capture any sound. What he heard was the popping of the fire and deep, even breathing. She sounded asleep.

  Before he knew what he was up to, Kren got out of the bed. He p
added on silent, supple feet to check on her.

  Jeannie lay on her side, facing the fire chute. Her eyes were closed. Her face appeared softer than ever, the muscles relaxed as she gave in to the fatigue she’d shown before going to bed. Her small hand curled beneath her chin and her exposed shoulders glowed in the firelight. She looked ethereal. Innocent. Exquisite.

  She had enchanted him, he realized. Something about her begged him to shield her from all harm. To shelter her against the coming trials. She evoked everything he’d ever wanted to be for a woman, even though she was not Risnarish. Perhaps he saw her the way he did because she was not Risnarish. His race’s women were not creatures that invited any man’s doting attention.

  I have to save her. Kren swallowed hard. Mekay would see she was of Spirit. He had to. This sweet being could not possibly be a Monsudan construct.

  Kren turned and forced himself to get back into his bed. Still sleep would not come, leaving him tossing, his mind a maelstrom of worry. Scenarios raced through his mind: Mekay demanding Kren march Jeannie outside and turn his plasma shooter on her. Kren taking her to the woods instead and setting her loose, bringing her food every night. The Assembly agreeing she had come from the All-Spirit and allowing her to live in the temple complex with the Risnarish females. Kren claiming she’d escaped while keeping her hidden in his home. The visions, both horrific and hopeful, piled on top of each other.

  Perhaps two hours had passed before sleep finally began to steal close. His eyelids fluttered. His breath eased. Tension seeped from his body. His eyes closed.

  A whimper rose in the quiet. Kren’s eyes flew wide open. He was out of the bed and on his feet before he was conscious that he’d moved.

  He looked toward Jeannie. Her body, covered by the sheet he’d found for her, jerked slightly in the firelight. Did she dream as the Risnarish did? Or was she awake?

  She cried out, a sound of terrible anguish. Again Kren was not aware he’d moved until he stood beside her platform, looking down on her sleeping face.

  Unlike earlier, her expression was drawn in terror. Her hand still lay beneath her chin, the fingers spasming, flinging wide as if to signal something to stop. Her head jerked violently. She acted as if she were avoiding something. Then her mouth opened and she made that awful cry again. It was the sound of a trapped animal, fearful and lost.

  “No! No!”

  It must only have been a dream, but Kren couldn’t stand to see her so frightened. He started to wake her, but thought better of it. If she came out of the nightmare, she wouldn’t remember him right away. She already looked so terrified.

  He got into bed with her, sliding close and scooping her into his arms to hold her. He realized belatedly that if she woke now, it might upset her even more than waking with him standing over her. It was too late to undo his actions, however. He’d already embraced her.

  She didn’t wake. Instead Jeannie burrowed her face in the hollow between his chest and shoulder, as if he could shelter her against the demons that pursued her. He petted her silky mane and held her close.

  She made a sleepy, contented sound. Her soft body relaxed against his and with a last little sigh, she went limp.

  Now that Jeannie had settled, Kren was abruptly aware she was naked. Naked, with her body right up against his. Soft breasts pressed against his skin. Her topmost leg slid between his, tangling their limbs like lovers in the immediate aftermath of mating. The scent of her hair, smelling of her recent shower, filled his nostrils.

  Kren drew a shuddering breath. It had been some time since he’d joined with a female, longer than was wise. Between the coming harvest of his crops, the calving of his herd of ecal, and enforcement work, he’d been too busy to visit the women of the temple complex. He regretted it now. A surge of heat between his legs made the skin swell and begin to protrude.

  Not now, he told himself. He could not visit the attendants of the temple’s Mating Center at such a late hour. He certainly couldn’t satisfy himself with Jeannie. She’d been clear she wouldn’t mate with him. As it was, she’d unleash those ear-splitting screams of hers if she woke and found him aroused and holding her.

  He urged his flesh to calm. He thought about leaving her for his own pallet, but then she shifted and he was able to examine her face. She wore a slight smile, as if dreaming pleasantly. His presence made her feel safe. Perhaps his being there would keep the sleep demons away for the rest of the night.

  Even though his groin ached with need, the rest of him was able to relax. He was doing a good thing. He kept her safe, if only from night terrors.

  Plus it was wonderful lying there next to her. Even with unsated urges, Kren found the experience incredible in a quiet way. He’d never slept the night through with someone else. It contented him. No, he felt more than mere contentment. He felt blissful. Jeannie was warm and soft and lovely against his body. He floated in the sensation, unaware when sleep slid over him too.

  Chapter Five

  Jeannie woke by degrees. She fought it, not wanting to emerge in the real world yet. She was having a lovely dream. Halfway between sleep and wakefulness, she tried her best to remain in the enticing state of not-quite consciousness.

  A warm, solid body lay next to hers, holding her tight. She experienced a sense of belonging with his legs tangled in hers, his arms banded about her in a secure cage of strength.

  She knew she was dreaming, which was why she didn’t push away. Instead, she burrowed her face against the wall of chest even more. Her dream man sighed with pleasure, and a delicious thrill sizzled up her spine. This was where she wanted to stay, this slumber world where she felt loved. Safe. Secure.

  Only in sleep could she pretend it was okay to trust another. Here she could safely fantasize that she had found love, a love that would not turn on her, a love that wouldn’t crumble into dust the moment it was tested.

  She imagined she dozed next to someone who was not yet another casual lover. Instead, he was that childish delusion of a soul mate, the one man who had been made for her, destined by a heaven she no longer believed in. Strong, self-assured, faithful in all ways. It was a wondrous fantasy, and she didn’t want it to end.

  Despite her wish to remain in this twilight state where once-upon-a-time stories held sway, she slid another degree into consciousness. And yet her dream lover remained, deliciously solid and inviting. If he was real, she would wake him with soft kisses. His lips would curl in a grin, a devilish one, because he was thinking of how he wanted to roll over on top of her, trapping her beneath his weight. She wouldn’t be able to escape, but why would she want to? His body felt so good on top of hers, his lips on hers, his hands trapping her wrists to pin them over her head, his legs between hers, sliding them open for access. She went wet. Her womanly scent mixed with his outdoorsy, woodsy smell. She moved deeper into fantasy, imagining that only when he had her in the position he wanted would he open his eyes, gazing down at her with irises of silver and black starburst pupils...

  Jeannie’s eyes popped open as she remembered the night before and realized where she must be. Her gaze took in a stretch of carved chest crisscrossed with gold, brown, and white stripes. Holy cow, it wasn’t a dream at all. She was in bed with Kren, the Risnarish alien.

  She listened to his deep breathing. The magnificent chest before her moved rhythmically with each inhalation and exhalation. He must still be sleeping.

  Moving carefully so she didn’t wake him, she looked up at his face. His eyes were closed. He smiled the gentle smile she’d imagined. Her heart ached to see it, as if wanting something so badly that it might break if denied.

  She examined the face before hers now that she had the opportunity to do so without him knowing. After a moment, she decided that the gold streaks weren’t stripes after all; it seemed to be the base coat of his skin. The darker brown stripes accentuated the shape of his brows, nose, jawline, and chin. The white outlin
ed his black-lashed eyes and highlighted the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. It tipped his otherwise black-lined ears, pointed at the moment. The bone structure under all that fascinating color was strong, but the stripes made him appear even more masculine. He was beautiful, and Jeannie’s mouth went dry at the idea of him waking to find her staring at him.

  It was a terrifying prospect. It was also titillating. Her earlier fantasy sprang forward, and her heart drummed fast. She thought of the way he touched her last night in the shower. If he believed she was attracted to him, what might curiosity lead him to do to her? Would he be as fascinated as she was by the potential fireworks?

  She could do it. She could scoot up the few inches it would take to reach his mouth, to kiss him awake as she’d imagined. His eyes would open and he’d... He’d...

  What? Grow a penis, as he had the tail, and give her glorious alien sex? Or more likely, he’d jump up and run away, repulsed by the funny-looking Earthling trying to seduce him.

  Jeannie mentally shook her head at herself. What was she thinking, getting all hot and bothered by something not of her own species? Wasn’t it wrong somehow?

  Curiosity was not so easily driven off, however. The mysteries surrounding the Risnarish kept her fascinated. Questions needed to be answered. Did Kren’s people even have women? His apparent confusion over her breasts might mean they didn’t, at least not women in the Earthling sense. Perhaps Risnarish were both men and women, all in the same body. Kren had seemed curious about her sex, as if it wasn’t quite what he was used to. Was it because she had visible genitals or because she only possessed one kind?

  She thought of the tail he’d grown. If he was as male as he looked, he’d be able to form himself a penis. Then she wondered how big he could make himself.