Redeeming Factors (Revised)

by James R. Lane

  Wow was an understatement as far as S’leen was concerned. She was so confused she began trembling and automatically reached for him for support. He gladly provided it, but carefully turned his body away from the group of friends standing at a discreet distance, saying, “This is about to get out of control, Dear.” He pointed to the bulge in the front of his shorts. “As much as we both would enjoy pursuing this, we can’t afford that luxury right now. I’m hoping these next few days will give me time to get myself together—for both of us.” She dared to hope that he meant what he was saying. “Promise me,” he said ardently, “that you’ll go on out to the estate and try to take care of things there until I’ve finished with the necessary paperwork and…and whatever else I’ve got to do to make this work. Do that and I promise you a lot more interesting life than you seem to think you’re destined to have. Deal?” She looked into his eyes with a passion that was almost frightening, then she nodded. “It’s set,” he said, grinning. “I’ll see you at ‘my’ funeral.” He quickly kissed her again, then snatched the heavy door open and disappeared through the dark opening.

  Shapiro and L’niik said their farewells to the others, who quickly climbed back into Jane for the short hop back to the Ross estate. Once the ship had disappeared into the night sky the remaining human and his H’kaah friend entered the Patrons building, to complete the transformation of Jack Ross, technically deceased, into D’jiin, Earth’s newest male H’kaah visitor.

  Earth had changed a great deal in the brief time mankind had crawled across its surface. It seemed destined to see even more changes in the years to come, courtesy of one black-furred alien who fancied himself somewhat of a born-again guardian angel.

  Perhaps he actually was.

  Chapter 13

  *A Tale of Two Tails*

  When Teddy Shapiro and L’niik entered Patrons’ front door they found the dark-furred male H’kaah huddled in the far corner of the enlarged reception area. The first time Jack Ross had set foot in it, the reception area had left him cold with its cramped, impersonal air.

  Now it was four times its original size, furnished with warm woods, rich fabrics and lush carpeting, all of it wasted on the catatonic, black and blonde-gold furred alien. Jack Ross, now known as the H’kaah male D’jiin (and for all intent and purpose still only a few hours “old”) had apparently reached emotional overload, and like the rabbits upon which his adopted species was based were prone to do, he had withdrawn into himself to quiver in fear.

  “Jesus H. Christ!” Shapiro angrily boomed. “Where’s the ‘Black Jack Ross’ half the fucking world seems to want dead?” L’niik jumped like he’d had his butt rudely goosed, but the dark figure huddled in the corner of the room didn’t stir. “A few roaches catch him off-guard,” Shapiro sarcastically observed, “and what does he do? He comes totally unglued. Where’s the future in that?” Still nothing. “Y’know, L’niik” he drawled in disgust, “maybe our bad-ass ‘bunny-boy’ wasn’t such a big hairy deal after all.” The white-furred H’kaah looked at the swarthy human like he’d lost his mind.

  “I often wondered if maybe ‘Black Jack Ross’ was more swish than substance, more mouth than macho,” the man snarled. “This proves I was right.” L’niik was certain the human had come unhinged; based on what he had learned about Jack Ross, both from legend and from painful firsthand experience, he couldn’t imagine a more fierce warrior. The white-furred H’kaah began trembling in terror, believing that nobody could talk that way to such a powerful person and live. “What a pathetic pussy,” Shapiro spat. “It’s time, I guess, to send this miserable excuse for…for whatever he is back to those fat-headed Mn’rii, then I’ll take his little female fluff aside and show her what a real man’s like—where it counts.”

  L’niik had to give Shapiro credit for at least one thing; he certainly knew how to get under virtually anybody’s skin. In a flurry of movement so fast the human didn’t even have time to raise his arms in defense, D’jiin (aka: “Black Jack Ross”, “bad-ass bunny-boy” and “pathetic pussy”) exploded from his corner like an uncoiling black spring. He bowled the big man over, knocking him heavily to the carpeted floor where he lay momentarily stunned. With Shapiro flat on his back, D’jiin quickly straddled the man’s torso, then sat solidly on his chest, straining the human’s ribs nearly to the breaking point. The dark-furred alien entwined the fingers of his left hand in the man’s hair, then cruelly pulled the attached head back against the floor to expose the throat. With the claw-tipped fingers of his right hand D’jiin reached back and grasped the man’s gonads through the fabric of his trousers, then he skinned his furry lips back from his impressive front teeth.

  “Well, Tzvi,” he hissed, “which would you like me to rip out first, your balls or your throat?” D’jiin drew his lips back and clacked the teeth together, and Shapiro realized that he had only moments left to live. “You’ve seen Jack Ross do terrible things,” the black-furred nightmare said, “things few people would believe humanly possible. But ol’ Jackie-Boy’s no longer shackled by his so-called ‘humanity’, so maybe he’s free to take—things—to the next level.” He dug his claws into the man’s groin, which brought forth a sharp gasp of pain from the helpless man; this only encouraged the H’kaah to tighten his grip in the man’s scalp.

  “No doubt you think the Mossad trained you in all aspects of torture,” D’jiin grated, “but understand this, chaver: Compared to me, you know NOTHING about inflicting pain. Before I met you and Noach I learned about pain from the best as well as the worst in the business, and most of what I learned came from being on the receiving end.” The dark, demonic figure perched on Shapiro’s chest laughed, and the sound brought even deeper fear to both the human victim and the white-furred H’kaah observer. L’niik had never dreamed one of his own kind could be so vicious, but then he remembered with a start that D’jiin wasn’t exactly his own kind, despite the dark-furred H’kaah’s biology.

  “But yet,” the terrifying figure suddenly commented in a strange tone of voice, “I guess there really isn’t anything I could do to you that would equal what that alien mind-sucking machine did to me a few hours ago.” He looked long and hard at the human lying helpless beneath him, then as quickly as he had overpowered Shapiro he released him, springing away from the prone man in a smooth, easy move. Within seconds D’jiin was again the perfect image of a passive, dark-furred male H’kaah. No trace of his demonic alter ego could be seen.

  “None of you have any idea what that damned alien device really is, do you?” the former human ventured as Shapiro slowly crawled to his feet. After a few moments of silence he said, “I’ll take that as a ‘no’ answer, Tzvi, and I’ll look forward to the time when you and Noach and a bunch more sanctimonious mamzers either get too old to function or become critically injured. At that point you’ll no doubt happily submit to one of those machines’ so-called miraculous processes, and then you’ll understand that dying’s not the worst thing that can happen to you.”

  The dark-furred alien gestured toward a decorative full-length mirror on the wall near the front door. “A few minutes ago I looked in the mirror—and I didn’t see myself.” He looked at the other two people in the room. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to look in a mirror and not only see somebody else, but see someTHING else?”

  Shapiro gently rubbed his abused crotch, then shakily ran his fingers through what was left of his thinning hair. “Welcome to the real world, Jack,” he softly rasped. “Be glad you’re not a vampire; then you wouldn’t have seen anything at all. But since the mirror never lies, you’d better get damned used to that face, because unless you hook yourself up to a cybernetic box again you’ll wear that fuzzy kisser to your grave.” The man was carefully watching the alien as he spoke, but he knew with a chilling certainty that if the volatile non-human decided to attack him again, once again there would be nothing he could do to defend himself. “Now, are you ready to do this the way we planned, Jack,” the man asked carefully, “or do you
want to further punish me for still being an old Jew?”

  The dark-furred H’kaah briefly hung his head, then looked up and said, “Don’t ever call me ‘Jack’ again, chaver. That goes for you, too, L’niik. ‘Jack Ross’ is dead, and I’m going to do my damnedest to remember that.” He slowly walked over to the bruised man, then held out his right hand. “Tzvi, I’m sorry that I hurt you, and I understand why you did what you did, said what you said.” The man looked directly into the alien’s pale gold eyes, then after a long sigh he took the proffered furry hand.

  “Do us both a favor,” D’jiin said evenly. “Regardless of the situation, don’t ever say anything like that about S’leen again.” He released the man’s hand, adding, “If you do, despite our decades of friendship I’ll kill you first and mourn your passing later.”

  Shapiro nodded and smiled wryly, saying, “You’d probably have to get in line. There are so many people who know and like S’leen I’m sure someone would beat you to it.”

  L’niik felt somewhat left out of the conversation between the two old warriors, but then D’jiin turned to him and said, “And now it’s your turn, friend L’niik.” The white male cringed. “I’m going to be entirely at your mercy for the next few days, so now’s your chance to take revenge for what I did to you at the party that handful of eternally-long days ago. While I did what I felt was necessary, you may have a different opinion, and—”

  The big male H’kaah was horrified at what D’jiin was implying. “Jack—forgive me, D’jiin,” he interrupted in a rare display of courage. “Had you not done what you did I would either be dead or as good as dead, like…like—” He couldn’t say the name of the H’kaah who’s body D’jiin now wore. “Honorable Sir,” he forced himself to continue, “I was about to…to rape S’leen! You saved her from that, and in doing so you saved me from a fate like…like—” L’niik bowed his head, humbly adding, “I will do anything in my power to help you.”

  D’jiin snarled and reached a clawed hand toward L’niik’s throat, but he stopped, changing his hand from a lethal weapon to a proffered gesture of peace. “Nuts,” he softly said. “You can’t help being the wuss you are any more than I can help being the bastard I am.” He sighed. “Son, I’ll make a deal with you. Stand by me and try to teach me the critical things I need to know about being a male H’kaah, and we’ll consider any debts between us satisfied. Deal?” The white male was taken aback, and he looked at D’jiin’s outstretched hand like it was a snake about to strike. Yet after a few moments had passed he smiled at his dark-furred counterpart, then he extended his own hand and they made it official.

  “Deal,” L’niik said, and was rewarded with a wide grin from D’jiin. Even though it came from a non-human face, it looked a lot like the infectious grin once sported by one Jack Ross, recently deceased. “With your permission, sir, I would like to remain your friend even after this is over.”

  “Son,” D’jiin stated, “the feeling’s mutual.”

  * * *

  As predicted, it took the better part of three days to create for D’jiin a plausible background that would withstand the closest scrutiny. During this time the one-time human government-sponsored terrorist discovered that being a male H’kaah on Earth can be more than a little humbling.

  D’jiin raged, “Do you mean to say that most of the H’kaah who pass through Patrons’ doors are winding up as sex partners to their human hosts?”

  “Surely you don’t think you’re the only human who’s fallen in love—or at least lust—with an H’kaah, chaver,” Shapiro chided. “Tony Wilson is just as crazy about C’maat as you are about S’leen; he simply hasn’t taken the ultimate step—yet.”

  “Damn it,” D’jiin snarled, “we’re trying to help the H’kaah, not turn them into ‘sex toys’ for wealthy humans!”

  Shapiro shook his head tiredly while L’niik looked startled at the outburst. “I know, I know,” the man said, “but sometimes no matter how hard you try to ‘do the right thing’, people are going to do what they want, regardless. Over two-thirds of our placements have been to middle-age men and women who ultimately wind up bedding their cuddle-bunnies. We’ve only had two ‘rejections’; one man discovered he was highly allergic to H’kaah fur, and the other one lied about not having an aggressive dog, and the damned mutt tried to EAT his companion. Luckily for everybody the bites weren’t serious, and the female wasn’t permanently traumatized by the experience. We were able to place her with an elderly gentleman who thinks she’s an angel and treats her like royalty. Consequently, before we approve a client for a contract we now have a human caseworker and a male H’kaah visit the customer’s household, ostensibly to look for unforeseen hazards like low ceiling fans and such. The H’kaah is actually along to sniff out any signs of undeclared pets on the property.” He frowned. “So far we’ve caught two men and a woman lying about what they had in the way of pets. One man had a combat-trained Doberman (on the application form and in the preliminary interview he claimed it was a Yorkie); the other had seven half-feral cats living inside his house. The woman claimed to have ‘no’ pets; in fact she had four cats, six dogs, three birds, two iguanas and the biggest captive python I’ve ever seen; none of them declared on the registration form. We, uh, we think she wanted an H’kaah as just another pet to add to her menagerie.”

  D’jiin stood speechless, his mouth open in shock. Shapiro added, “Now that we’ve expanded the process to include male H’kaah we’ve placed twelve males to date, counting L’niik. So far, five of the seven unmarried women who’ve contracted with us want big, macho bucks capable of making them ‘feel special’. If that means acting as escorts, then escort service is what they get; if it means performing in a more, um, special way, then that’s what is now being written into the contracts before any signatures go on the paper.”

  “My God!” D’jiin exclaimed. “L’niik, how did our males handle the, uh, special part of it before we came up with the pheromone trick? You told me you were totally unable to…to perform because your patron, Maria, didn’t ‘smell right’. What about the others?”

  “The day before your discovery,” the big white-furred alien explained, “one male had been returned to Patrons with his contract paid in full—for ‘non-compatibility’ reasons, his female patron claimed, and three others, including myself, believed that we were facing the same unhappy fate.” He smiled as he added, “Twelve hours after you came up with the answer to the problem the males already placed with patrons were sent very special Ziploc bags. One of our resident females who was, as you would say, ‘in full bloom’ provided us with ample estrus pheromones for scent-applicators, and the males who most needed the help were immediately able to perform to their patrons’ satisfaction.”

  “Since then,” Shapiro stated, “we’ve placed three more males—not counting the one returned to us whom we sent right back, Ziploc bag in-hand—and each one has left Patrons equipped with his very own ‘hot-bunny-in-a-bag’.” He laughed. “From that point on we’ve had no complaints, even though most of the women quickly figured out what was on those powder puffs the males ‘playfully’ rubbed them with.”

  D’jiin shook his head and smiled wryly, saying, “I had no idea how potent H’kaah sex pheromones are. When S’leen’s near me my blood feels like it’s on fire, and I have this overwhelming urge to screw her ‘till she squeals, then screw her some more.”

  Shapiro snorted around a grin, but L’niik looked troubled. “I…I don’t understand why you would feel that way,” the white alien told his compatriot. “S’leen went out of season right after you were shot.”

  “What do you mean?” the dark H’kaah demanded. “There must be some of those pheromones left in her fur; otherwise-”

  “No, sorry,” L’niik countered. “I’ve been in very close contact with her numerous times since the shooting, and I can assure you that by the time we took your human body to the Mn’rii homeworld S’leen possessed no trace of estrus pheromones.”

  “Then
why do I…I—?” D’jiin said, perplexed.

  “Perhaps your reaction is a carryover from your human existence,” the alien sagely offered. “Your emotional attraction to her may be enough to initiate your physical response, although it normally doesn’t happen with us when our females are not in season, regardless of our affinity toward them.”

  “Leave it to me to be the oddball,” D’jiin sighed as he stared gloomily out a window. Moments later a mischievous grin briefly crossed his face—unseen by the others in the room—and he turned to the human and said, his expression carefully neutral, “But to test that, Teddy, how about granting me a little private ‘quality time’ with F’haan? If she’s not in season and L’niik’s theory is right, I shouldn’t have any desire whatsoever to ‘tickle her fancy’. However, if she IS in season and she’s ‘interested’,” he snickered evilly, “I’ll ask her to name the child after you.”

  L’niik laughed, saying, “She won’t be in season for several more weeks, so all you’ll do is annoy her and frustrate yourself.” Shapiro just smiled and nodded benignly.

  “Fine,” D’jiin stated. “I’m used to frustration so let’s run the experiment anyway. It’ll be interesting to see how she appeals to me, now that I’m a lot different from when I first saw her. At that time I thought she was cuter ’n hell; I just found another female more to my liking.” He winked at Shapiro, adding, “Still, F’haan IS the perfect example of a ‘cuddle-bunny’, and I always did like red hair.”

  * * *

  D’jiin was standing as he absently peered out a window in Patrons’ small auxiliary conference room. The door slowly opened and Shapiro’s H’kaah companion hesitantly padded in, closing it behind her.

  “Hi,” he said in H’kaah, smiling, then asked her to flip the lock on the knob so they wouldn’t be disturbed. He then invited her to join him at the window, and for a time they stood side by side, enjoyed the serene view of the lush greenery surrounding the Patrons building. D’jiin found her warm musky scent pleasant, but certainly not arousing.