by Darrell Bain
“Well, some of the girls said a lot of it was. A bunch of it sure looked icky to me, though. Even disgusting."
“I can just imagine what you've seen from the things that used to show up on my own computer. Some of the acts you've seen are perfectly normal, but some are what we call fetishes. And almost all pornography degrades women in some way."
“Why do they do it then?"
“There are many reasons why a woman gets into that sort of thing, and men as well. Some do it for money, some are in thrall to men or women who force them into it. Some are drug addicts who do it to get money to support their habits. Some men participate just to get lots of sex with good-looking women.” When Lyda remained silent, Rayne continued. “Tell you what, you tell me what you think is abnormal and I'll either confirm or deny. Or if it embarrasses you, I can simply run through the itinerary of what I suspect you've seen and tell you one way or the other whether it's normal or not. How's that?"
Lyda elected to let her talk while she listened and asked an occasional question. Rayne started slow, describing foreplay, kissing, normal positions for intercourse. Also included in Rayne's speech was birth control, and how Lyda had to be very careful now that they were in an environment where no birth control other than the rhythm method was available, which she also explained. When Rayne began to discourse on other subjects, Lyda stopped her often. She wanted to be certain she was not misunderstanding what was normal and what wasn't.
“That's really something most women do, putting it in their mouth?"
“Yes—say at least half of all women. And vice versa, of course."
“It sounds unsanitary."
Rayne chuckled. “Most things we do are a bit unsanitary. We live in a world of germs. But take my word for it; with a man you like, it's something you can do that will please him immensely. And you'll find out, that when you please a man, most of the time it turns out to be pleasurable for you, too. You'll learn to enjoy it because its part of the mutual sharing with a man you care for.” Rayne chuckled. “And in our present circumstances, it's a very good method of birth control!"
“I guess it would be,” Lyda said. “How about homosexuals? Are they normal? I've heard opinions both ways."
“Most of them are normal. It's partly genetic and partly environmental, but men who like men and women who like women simply develop that way; they usually have no choice in the matter. Fortunately, in our times, we've come to recognize that fact. In the olden days, it was considered a very serious crime. You could be locked up, beaten, ostracized and have all manner of bad things happen to you. In those days, most homosexuals never admitted it to anyone except others like themselves. They had to live their whole lives in fear of being exposed."
Rayne looked back over her shoulder. They had come a long way. “Let's start back, shall we?"
Lyda turned over all the things Rayne had told her in her mind, sorting out and discarding misconceptions she had been carrying around. There was still one unanswered question, though.
“Why am I not interested in sex, Rayne? That can't be normal."
“I think it is. You're a very mature person for your age; no, I should say you're very mature, period. And that means you've gone way beyond the boys and young men close to your age, but you're not quite old enough physically for grown men yet. Besides that, you've got lots of responsibilities that very few girls as young as you ever have. You have a lot on your mind. And remember, I told you some girls develop faster or slower than others? That goes for sexual interest as well. Just be patient; it will come. And when it does, take it slow and be cautious. Experiment with kissing and holding and touching with the ones you're attracted to, but save the actual sex until you've got it settled in your mind that you're ready and that you really care for the man."
That sounded like a good answer to Lyda. “Thanks, Rayne. You've been a really big help. I bet you were a great counselor."
“I like to think I was, and I don't believe in false modesty. If you know of other youngsters, male or female, that you think are in need of a little help and some honest answers, send them to me. I'll do my best."
“I know you will,” Lyda said, sincerely.
Lyda slept very soundly every night after that. She realized after she and Rayne separated that some concerns that had been bothering her were lifted. Before their talk, she had dreamed at least once every few sleep periods of Big Bill's assault. Now, the nightmares became fewer and fewer and gradually, ceased altogether. She looked confidently to the future and dreamed of storybook princes instead, along with the normal vaguely erotic dreams of youthful girls.
* * * *
From time to time, Lyda's volunteer wanderers stopped back by and reported on happenings from other parts of the environment. Sperlock had been run off from several groups after word spread of his deceptions, but he was still holding forth at a column near the edge of the great circular area occupied by humans. There were two other places she heard about that she wanted nothing to do with and warned her people and the other leaders about. There, small bands of men were roaming about committing atrocities, but so far, they were staying away from the area of her confederacy, with its Monitors, as their arbitration and enforcement people were called. They had been organized to help keep order and resolve minor disputes and pass major ones on up the line. The only punishment for infractions was two warnings and then exile. Eventually, Lyda intended to bring the whole spaceship, if that's what it truly was, under the control of her confederacy. Not wanting to push her views, she was taking her time and urging the other leaders not to go too fast. Their authority was being accepted readily now and she didn't want to spoil the gains they had made.
Lyda was busy and happy and still growing in mind and body. And finally, she began to mingle more frequently with the younger people, being careful not to go too far and dilute her authority with too much familiarity. There was even one young man of eighteen or so, Gavin Tamrick, who she was surprised to find herself beginning to like in a way that she recognized as sexual attraction. He was tall and slim with cornsilk yellow hair and blue eyes innocent of guile. He was also very intelligent and had already been in college, studying ecology and zoology, when the aliens came.
One thing that attracted her to him in the first place was that he had managed to tame a few of the little six legged creatures she had encountered on her first day here; the ones that lived in the trays that grew the tendrils and a few other varieties of alien flora. He showed her one day how the little animals had burrows in the trays, which were cunningly concealed by arranging green tendrils so they could squeeze in and out of the holes without disturbing them. Gavin had no idea where the burrows went—they descended down past the bottom of the trays, which were made of the same material as the ground they walked on.
He showed Lyda how to make friends with them. “I've been calling them hexies, for their six little feet. They'll always run from you at first, but if you put your hand down in the tray with a bit of food and hold it there and be patient, they'll come nearer and nearer. It took me days before the first one would take food from my hand. Then if you go to another tray, you have to start the process all over again. They don't appear to communicate."
Lyda was impressed. “What are they for, do you know?"
Gavin ran his forefinger along the ridge of soft bristles adorning the back of the little hexie he had enticed out. He was showing Lyda how tame they could be once they were used to a person. “I really don't know what they're for. They're curious, though; no, I mean there are curious things about them. For instance, when you run your finger along their ridges, you can feel a vibration, sort of like a cat purring. They can learn, too. Some idiots have killed them for no reason at all. Once that happens, any of them in the same tray will never come close to a human again.” He let the creature nibble from the bit of column berry in his hand while Lyda watched.
Besides the six legs that had no visible joints, they were identical at each end, with a cluster of c
atfish-like tendrils covered with very short and thick hairlike growths that were softer to the touch than the crest running along their backs. Beneath the tendrils was a mouth with sharp little teeth.
“They're funny looking, but kind of cute. Do you think this one would let me pet it?"
“We can try,” Gavin said. “I'll rub its back and you try it, too, but be very slow about letting it see your hand. Stick out one finger so it will know what you intend to do. Don't be disappointed if it runs for its burrow, though; they're very cautious."
Lyda tried it. Surprisingly, the creature allowed her touch. She felt the tiny little rumbling that reminded her of a kitten when it was first learning to purr but it wasn't audible at all.
“I can feel a vibration but I can't hear him,” Lyda whispered.
“It may be a her. Or an it, for all I've been able to discover. And after a while, they'll start running those whiskers over your hand if you let them. You can feel the purr then, too."
After a while, they walked on, hand in hand. Lyda felt a peaceful harmony in their companionship, something she realized she had been missing ever since the arrival of the aliens.
One night, she returned to her sleeping space thinking that kissing was a nice way to express affection. Gavin hadn't been so shy that he asked permission, but neither had he been overly forceful. Lyda went to sleep with the memory of his lips on hers and wondering how fast she should let the incipient romance develop. A dozen sleep periods later, the big hexapods were turned loose and she had little chance to think of anything else for a long time.
* * *
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lyda woke up to the unfamiliar sounds of heavy scuttling and noises that resembled both growling and the yapping of coyotes with a bit of hissing mixed in for good measure. She sat up, alerted by the oddity of the dissonant clamor. In the distance, she heard yells and screams of fear and confused voices that made no sense—until she got her first glimpse of what was going on.
A creature with a body colored and shaped somewhat like an oversized, two-headed red dachshund, but much larger, was crouched on six muscular, jointless legs facing her. Like the little hexies, both ends had the same whiskery tendrils sprouting from a bulbous, snoutless appendage that might be a head. The mouth below the tendrils was opening and closing, displaying double rows of sharp, pointed teeth. Even crouched, if that was what its stance indicated, Lyda could tell that it would stand at least waist high to her. If it raised from its present stance, it would be as high as her chest.
Lyda's first reaction was to feel for her gun. The creature hissed and scuttled closer in response to her movement. She hesitated, realizing that because of its size, bullets from her little pistol would be more likely to antagonize it than kill it. Besides, she didn't want to have to kill again, either animal or human—and this big thing looked very much like Gavin's hexies. Maybe if she was careful, it wouldn't hurt her. She sat very still, waiting to see what the creature would do. She could feel her pulse racing and fear threatening to overcome her. She beat the fear back down to where she could think rationally and tried to slow down her racing pulse. She remembered how Gavin had tamed the little ones and that helped to steady her nerves. Strangely, the animal made no further move as she stared at it; it appeared to be doing the same to her, though it had no visible eyes. She did notice that it had a cream colored crest on its back that continued all the way down to where the tendrils began. It thickened there and the short fat hairs were longer; they were twitching in that area as if a flea was burrowing around and sampling its blood, or whatever bodily fluids served that purpose. She didn't think it was an insect, though; the movement of the thick hairs appeared to be rhythmic, as if they were purposeful.
Louder screams erupted from the area of the column where most people slept. Lyda wanted to go find out what was happening, though she already suspected she would find creatures like the one right in front of her there, too. She thought again of Gavin and the way he had tamed his hexies. Would that work on an animal this size? Maybe, but she doubted that most people would stand still long enough to try it, not when they saw the fearsome teeth the new inhabitants of their realm sported.
Moving slowly, Lyda very carefully got to her feet. She stood still for a moment, then began a slow shuffle, sliding one foot cautiously forward, pausing, then moving the other. What am I doing? The thing could kill her in an instant if it wanted to. Yet, she had to do something. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had the idea that running away wasn't the answer. Surely, it would be able to move faster on six feet than a human could on two.
Lyda got close enough to the animal so she could see that the thick hairs twitching just above the tendrils were speckled with iridescent dots, almost like tiny faceted eyes. It still didn't move from its position. Slowly and carefully, she reached out her hand. The tendrils straightened out to meet it and began exploring her fingers, then moved to the back of her hand and on underneath to her palm. It tickled and she stifled a laugh for fear of alarming the beast. Her suppressed mirth seemed to release something in the hexapod at the same time. It moved a foot or so past her. Lyda kept her hand in the same position so that as it moved, its crest came under her touch. Like the little hexie, the big hexapod began a subaudible rumbling she could practically feel in her bones, like sound waves so deeply bass, only the vibrations could be sensed.
The rumbling was not at all unpleasant. It slowed and burbled and rumbled again as the animal moved on past her at a slow, six legged walk. It stopped, then came the other way without turning around, like a train with an engine at each end. It rumbled again, then picked up speed after it was past her the second time, and headed off toward a distant column where one of the confederated groups lived.
Lyda let out a sigh of relief and turned back toward her home base, where the noise had not abated, but only grown worse and shriller, with panic the overriding tone. She hurried, but didn't run. As she came close, she shuddered. Several bodies lay on the ground, bloody and unmoving. Others sat or lay against the minimal shelter of the column. Most of her group had disappeared. She searched and found Rayne and Elijah, but not Karen or Troy or the rest of her assistants.
“Did one animal do all this?” Lyda asked Rayne as she bent to help her with a pressure bandage she was applying to a badly slashed man.
“There were lots of them. They came out of the boxes; some big, some little; I guess their sizes depended on how big the boxes were. Here, hold this in place while I get something to tie it on with.” Rayne's voice was evenly professional. Once the carnage was over, she was all concern, using her vocational LVN training required of secondary school counselors in her home state.
Lyda held the improvised dressing in place until Rayne returned, but spent the time trying to see how many were dead or wounded. And watching for more of the denizens who had created the slaughter. Could it possibly have been caused by the same kind of animal that had allowed her to stroke it? She asked Rayne while she tied on the bandage.
The description matched the animal she had met, despite the varying sizes of those that had swept through her group. It sickened her and made her wonder immediately whether or not the alien organisms had been provoked.
Elijah saw her with Rayne and hurried over. “Miss Brightner! God, I'm glad to see you. I thought you might have been caught and killed when your box emptied out."
Lyda frowned. “All the boxes had those animals in them?"
“Yes. Every one of them around here, anyway."
“What started them killing? Did someone hurt one of them?"
“I have no idea. Maybe. I woke up and one of the smaller ones was right next to me. I just stayed where I was. Frankly, when I saw those teeth, I was too scared to move, then when I did, it was very slowly."
“I just closed my eyes and prayed,” Rayne said. “There was a huge one that came toward me. Some man kicked at it, then tried to stab it with his knife. It knocked him down and ripped out his throat, then it came for me,
or I thought it did.” She shivered. “I just stood still and closed my eyes. I could see there was no use running. The next thing I knew, it was right next to me. I still didn't move and after a bit, it left.” She shrugged. “Maybe if you leave them alone, they won't hurt you. Come help me with that woman over there. She's got some broken bones that need to be splinted somehow."
As they approached the badly injured woman, another of the creatures came into sight, a huge one, much bigger than the one Lyda had seen. Rayne shrank back; Elijah attempted to place himself in front of Lyda.
“Just stand still and let it see that we're not threatening it,” Lyda said. “That's what I did.” She moved slowly up beside Elijah, wondering at his bravery. He had intended to place his own body in harm's way to protect her.
“Yeah, I stood still, too,” Elijah said. “But I was too damn scared to move anyway."
Somehow, Lyda thought Elijah was downplaying his role during the attack. He must have tried to avoid the appearance of threatening behavior right from the start.
The big hexapod scuttled up to them. As before, Lyda slowly reached out her hand, and just like the other had done, it examined her with its tendrilly whiskers, then moved along so that her hand stroked its crest as it passed. It was neck high to her and its rumbling response was enough to shake her body.
“Be damned,” Rayne said as it went on its way, its six legs moving in a hodgepodgelike pattern that was hard to make sense of, other than it carried the creature along at a fast pace without it appearing to be in a hurry.
“I think they're only dangerous if we provoke them,” Lyda said. “We need to get the word out quickly before more people get hurt or killed. If we don't, people will start using whatever they can find to attack the things. And that may make them even more dangerous to us."
“I agree,” Elijah said.
