Casting worried glances over their shoulders as they left, the females headed toward the cul-de-sac’s entrance. “Couple of really sweet girls, those two,” Ross commented. “Too bad they’re both, shall we say, ‘involved’ with their human companions at the moment.” He made a show of wearily sitting down on the bench to the right of the H’kaah. “Hell of an evening, son, but I don’t think it’s been a total loss.” He looked at the bewildered, trembling alien. “Do you?”
L’niik looked wide-eyed at Ross, and after a few false starts finally said, “W-why…why am I still alive? I don’t understand—”
“No, I guess you probably don’t,” Ross said with a weary smile. He placed a firm, friendly hand on the alien’s trembling shoulder. “Son, the first thing you need to do is get yourself under control. Now, reach over with both of your hands and take hold of mine,” and he held out his right hand. The alien’s grip was kitten-weak, and Ross said in his best evangelical voice, “Feel the strength of my hand on your shoulder, and also of the hand in your grasp. Let that strength flow into you, let it fortify you, let it calm you.” The H’kaah’s eyes lost their panicked glitter, and Ross could feel his trembling subside.
“As powerful as you know I am, understand that you are even stronger,” Ross stated, “and I want you to also remember that tonight you learned several valuable lessons.”
When L’niik still looked puzzled Ross stated evenly, “You let your gonads do the thinking for you, and they almost got you killed.” The alien closed his eyes in shame. “Open your eyes, L’niik!” He did. “That was lesson number one: Always let the large chunk of tissue behind your eyes do your thinking; those two little balls between your legs only think of one thing, and it doesn’t have anything to do with common sense.” He smiled at the alien and got a weak smile in response; Ross felt he was making progress.
“Lesson two: Don’t EVER start a fight that you’re not absolutely sure you can win. I’m over twice your age and in no way am I as strong or as fast as you, but I’m a seasoned warrior from a violent species that celebrates warriors.” The alien’s eyes widened in budding comprehension. “In ten fights out of ten I could kill you so quickly with my bare hands that you’d never know what hit you.” L’niik saw the shadow of the beast lurking behind Ross’ eyes, and he understood.
“What you have to realize is that there are many worlds full of creatures far nastier than us weak, slow, clawless humans. If your people and the other vegetarian species truly want to survive you’ve got to learn how to deal with those who would actually do to you what I merely threatened.” Ross reclaimed his hand from L’niik’s grasp, and after a final brotherly squeeze on the H’kaah’s wide, furred shoulder he stood. Seconds later S’leen and C’maat came down the pathway with the cold beverages Ross had requested.
Giving one bottle to L’niik, Ross took his own bottle and drained half of it before coming up for air. “Damn, that hits the spot!” L’niik carefully sampled the liquid, then took a longer swallow, licking his thin, non-human lips and smiling at how pleasant the fruit-flavored drink tasted. He quickly drained the rest of the bottle, then looked puzzled at Ross’ feral grin.
“Unless you’re well experienced with alcohol, son, I give you about five minutes before that knocks the starch out of your ears. That particular brand of drink tastes great but has a kick to it that’s somewhat more lethal than yours.”
Ross gathered the two females in a friendly embrace, then began walking them back down the entrance pathway. “I’m going to ask you both to give us more time alone. We’ve still got some important things to talk over. Thanks.” He released the bewildered aliens, then returned to stand next to the seated H’kaah.
“I’m going to venture a guess at something, L’niik, and speaking male-to-male, I’d like an honest answer.”
“Honorable Mr. Jack Ross, I will—”
“HOLD it!” Ross interrupted. “Leave off that ‘honorable Mr.’ crap, understand?” When the alien slowly shook his head in confusion Ross said, “I may be a lot older than you, but you’re supposed to be an adult, and you’re here with your patron because she’s a friend of mine. Since you’re her companion, that means, by association, I consider you to be a friend, too.” When the H’kaah looked surprised at that statement Ross added gently, “Friends don’t go around killing friends; they try to keep them from being killed.”
When the alien didn’t make the connection Ross patiently explained, “If you had succeeded in one or more of your, um, ‘endeavors’ tonight, it wouldn’t have been long before somebody, I or someone else, probably would have killed you, and for good reason.” It took a few moments, but Ross finally was rewarded with the light of comprehension in L’niik’s eyes.
“Do you mean—?”
“Yes, L’niik. Remember, I said that you learned several valuable lessons tonight. I don’t generally make it a habit of killing my students. Or my friends.
“And my friends call me Jack.”
The H’kaah stood, then momentarily swayed and blinked in confusion as the alcohol he’d consumed made itself known. He surprised Ross, though, with how quickly he shook it off. L’niik faced his recent adversary, then paused in confusion, not knowing exactly how to express himself in a human-society-appropriate way. Ross smoothed over the awkward moment by saying, “In this part of the world males who are on friendly terms usually greet, part company and express congratulations by shaking hands. Tonight, friend L’niik, I’m congratulating you on reaching a new level of maturity.” Ross grasped the alien’s big, furry hand and was pleased to find the grip now as robust as its owner.
“I still have something I want to discuss with you before the females wander back over,” Ross stated matter-of-factly. “I’m tired, though, so let’s sit.” They got comfortable and Ross finished his Seagram’s cooler. “You’ve been Maria Whitfield’s companion for about two weeks, right?” L’niik nodded, curious. “And during that time she’s—well, I guess there’s no way to be delicate about this.” He sighed. “She’s known to be somewhat wild and adventurous, so I’m going to guess that she’s asked you to have sex with her.” L’niik looked shocked, then he looked away, embarrassed. In time he nodded.
“And while she’s not in bad health for a middle-aged, chronically-overweight woman,” Ross observed, “I’m going to further guess that you found her about as sexually appealing as this bench we’re sitting on. Right?”
Bingo! L’niik jumped like he’d been zapped with 110 volts of electricity, and he stared at Ross as if the man were a mind reader. Now that he had scored a direct hit with his supposition, Ross knew he had to follow through.
“You have to think about basic biology, son, and about the factors that trigger a male’s desire. With most creatures there is little male/female sexual interest until the female enters her breeding cycle. At that time the female produces special odorless triggers called pheromones that attach themselves to the female’s normal body scent. Those scent triggers serve to tell the male that its time to ‘do his thing’.” L’niik nodded. As an educated adult he all-too-well knew what had been behind his earlier shameful actions.
“We ape-based humans no longer have sensitive enough noses to detect our females fertility pheromones, though,” Ross explained, “so to compensate for that we’re pretty much capable of arousal whenever the opportunity presents itself. Also, our females don’t exhibit obvious physiological changes when they’re fertile; hell, son, a lot of human females don’t even know when they’re at risk! Therefore we live and love more from visual and social stimuli than anything else, and we all have our personal standards of what we find attractive in a female. For example, I’m not attracted to heavyset women, but I don’t like the stick-thin, flat-chested ones, either.”
He paused and looked away for a moment, then looked at L’niik with an intensity that momentarily frightened the alien. “And I, like many other humans,” Ross stated, “think H’kaah females are just about the sexiest creatures alive. L�
�niik, that’s why we’re trying to be so damned careful with this placement program. If we slip up there’s a risk that your females, as well as you males, will wind up as…as nothing more than sex toys. Loving your people as a species as much as we do, we…we can’t let that happen.”
He paused for a moment, then continued. “But getting back to your problem—Besides not looking like ‘your kind’ of female, Maria doesn’t smell right, does she?” L’niik again looked embarrassed for a moment, then grew somber.
After a moment he shook his head. “No, Jack. I…I am a terrible disappointment to her in that I have been unable to, as you say, have sex with her. She has tried many things, and some of them have even been fun.” He sighed, then added, “Still, I am unable to pleasure her in the most fundamental way, and I fear she will soon grow tired of me and send me back to Patrons, and Patrons will send me home.”
Ross looked off into the night sky for a moment, then ventured, “I’ve known Maria for a lot of years, L’niik, and while she’s undeniably horny I doubt that she chose you simply because she wanted a fur-covered bed warmer. As long as you do the things you contracted to do—and I happen to know that stud service was not included in your contract— she’s not going to send you away.” He grinned at the H’kaah’s shocked expression. “Still, what do you think would happen if Maria smelled like a female H’kaah in estrus? I think you said you were ready to rape S’leen earlier tonight because it was ‘her season’, or something like that.”
The alien looked so crushed Ross thought he would cry as he said, “Jack, I…I’m sorry! I’ve been so upset and frustrated and…and I j-just lost all control when I got too near her. From the moment she arrived I knew it was her season. Her scent made me tingle all over and my head started feeling strange and…and as the evening wore on it got worse. Then, before I knew what I was doing I—” And then he did cry great wracking sobs that shook his muscular, unhuman frame.
“L’niik, that’s in the past now,” Ross soothed, “and I’m satisfied that you and S’leen have made your peace. Here— ” The man fished out his handkerchief and the H’kaah honked his small, pink button nose on it. “What matters now is that I think I may have the solution to your problem. I would guess most other H’kaah males will experience the same problem you’ve confronted when faced with a lusty human woman. After all,” he said with a grin, “females can easily fake interest, but there’s one thing we males can’t fake at all.” L’niik honked his nose again and looked closely at Ross, who simply raised an extended finger. L’niik ventured a weak smile.
“Human females,” the man began, “enjoy wearing artificial scents; we call such scents ‘perfume’. I don’t see why we couldn’t synthesize H’kaah female estrus pheromones and incorporate them into a perfume that women with male H’kaah companions could wear when they’re ‘in the mood’.”
The male H’kaah stared at Ross for nearly ten seconds, then suddenly broke into a wide grin, exclaiming, “If that can be done I think I would be able to make Maria very happy! Jack, you’re not only a great warrior, you’re a genius!” And before Ross could stop the H’kaah, L’niik had grabbed him in an embrace and was squeezing the (almost) defenseless man for all he was worth.
“Gaaah!” Ross squawked, fearing for his ribs’ safety. “Save your congratulations until after we test my theory. This might not work; you still might not be able to ‘get it up’ for a female who doesn’t have big ears, a fluffy tail and a plush fur covering.”
L’niik finally release Ross from the crushing hug, then almost pumped his hand off while saying, “I think your special perfume will work, Jack. You see, Maria has already tried wearing H’kaah-style ears and a tail; she even dressed in what your people call a ‘fur suit’. But with the addition of the pheromones I think my inability to please her will be solved!”
The mental image of the very rotund Maria Whitfield decked out in an anatomically correct bunny suit sent Ross into spasms of hysterical laughter.
Chapter 5
*Public Secrets*
The hour was late and the evening’s festivities were winding down. Many of the guests had already left, but not without securing promises from S’leen to take them for rides in her bright yellow convertible. She, in turn, got promises from many of the motorcyclists present, both hard-core Harley-Davidson bikers and luxo-touring Goldwing enthusiasts alike, to take her for rides on their two-wheeled steeds. Jack Ross knew that fitting her non-human head with a suitable motorcycle helmet would be far more difficult than procuring her a custom pair of Reeboks. He also knew that he would find a way to do it.
Less than an hour earlier, Ross and Teddy Shapiro managed to arrange for a few minutes of conversation out of earshot of the other guests. Had they been overheard, the subject matter of their conversation would have caused more than just raised eyebrows.
“Hell, Tzvi, we had to start somewhere, and with somebody!” Ross stated over a glass of aged malt Scotch whiskey as the party was winding down. “I’m just glad my little honey-blonde bunny is so incredibly gutsy. She hasn’t really balked at anything I’ve thrown her way. But if she’d turned out to have no backbone at all—God, I don’t know what I’ve have done.”
Shapiro took a long pull on his drink, peering for a time at his longtime friend and current business associate over the glass’ rim. “You’d have figured out something. All the years I’ve known ‘Black Jack’ Ross, he’s never settled for failure, never turned his back on a challenge. Sure, there’ve been setbacks and snafus; life’s full of ‘em. You, chaver, must have had a Jew hiding somewhere in your family tree, because only a Jew is so damned stubborn, so bull-headed. When you decide you’re going to do something or help somebody there’s no rest for anyone until it’s done.” He toasted Ross with his glass, adding, “Maybe that’s why I like you so much, you’re really a Jew at heart!”
Ross grinned at his friend. “Tzvi, you are so full of shit you could bag it and sell it for fertilizer. Oy! And another Shapiro money-making enterprise is born!” They both laughed.
* * *
It was a few minutes after midnight, and Ross and S’leen stood arm-in-arm on the floodlit front porch, waving at the last carload of guests as they drove out the gate. Once the car was clear, the gate’s vehicle sensor closed and securely locked the ornate steel barricade. He gave her a squeeze and said, “Whew! That was fun, but I’m glad it’s over.” When she looked askance at him he added, “Hey! It’s been a long time since we’ve been alone together, and no, those few hours you spent teasing me in the ship on the way here don’t count.”
She bit him. Hard.
Once he quit yelling she primly declared, “I’ll have you know, Jack Ross, that time spent with me always counts.”
Before even her hair-trigger H’kaah reflexes could react Ross had seized both her arms, similar to the way L’niik had grabbed her earlier in the evening. However, unlike that unhappy occasion, this time there would be no powerful rescuer bursting through the shrubbery to “save her honor”. At this point “being rescued” was about the furthest thing from her mind.
“The caterers won’t be here to clean up until mid-afternoon,” he stated, “which means that we won’t be disturbed for quite a while.” Also different from the earlier situation, she wasn’t struggling to escape this male’s gentle-firm grasp; this contact was welcomed.
“Are you suggesting we spend the night outside, Jack?” she cooed, then her teeth clicked together as she tried, unsuccessfully, to nip him on the arm.
“Jesus!” he exclaimed as he twisted his arm out of range of her impressive dental work. “I wondered why you got ‘bitey’ a couple of months ago, and tonight I found out that’s a characteristic of H’kaah females in heat, just like you are now!”
“That’s a rude way to put it,” she said, pouting. “My fertility cycle happens about every sixty of your days, Jack, but I don’t think I cause you any undue problems.”
“S’leen---“ he began, searching for the right wo
rds, “I---I’m sorry, but I honestly didn’t know your people have estrous cycles. Rabbits don’t...”
“Jack!” she barked. “Despite your jokes and comments, I’m no more a ‘rabbit’ than you are a ‘monkey’!” His eyes got round and his mouth hung open at her sudden irritation, and she added, “When we evolved from a simple woodland creature, many things changed. Your ancestral monkeys and apes have unmistakable estrus cycles, and even if the males couldn’t smell the females, they certainly can see that they are receptive. Human females, however, show no outward signs of fertility, and your numb human noses can’t even smell their pheromones!” She tried to nip him again, and again her teeth clicked together in thin air.
“Damn it, S’leen, QUIT!” When she looked annoyed he stated, “When you first started that biting shit I told you I don’t have a covering of fur to cushion against your sharp teeth; there’s no way to hide the cuts and bruises you give me.” Once more her teeth clicked in the air above his bare right arm. “Don’t DO that!”
When she still looked annoyed he explained, “Honey, there are, well, things I don’t do out of consideration to you. Can’t you grant me the same courtesy?”
“What ‘things’?” she demanded, the spirit of the evening along with her estrus-influenced emotional condition making her, perhaps, a little too reckless.
It had been nearly four months since S’leen had come into Jack Ross’ life, and in all that time, even with all they had done and been through together, they had never shared a human-style kiss. In the first minutes of that Saturday morning, standing under muted yellow bug lights on the front porch of his house—and to S’leen’s total, wide-eyed surprise—he corrected that oversight.
Redeeming Factors (Revised) Page 13
