She had settled down to the point that he could gently embrace her as they both slowly walked around to the back of the house. The pool area was deserted; the humans and H’kaah visitors had left over an hour prior to D’jiin’s arrival. “According to the weather forecast I heard on a local radio station it’s supposed to be a nice night,” he stated offhandedly, “so let’s get married on the patio here by the pool.”
S’leen stopped abruptly, forcing D’jiin to swing around to face her. “You…you want to do this—tonight?” she squeaked.
“But there are preparations, a guest list, a…a priest!”
“Of the countless things I learned while staying at Patrons,” he said soothingly, “among the first were the basic requirements of H’kaah wedding ceremonies. Nowhere does it state that we must have an elaborate event, and the same rules apply to human weddings in most modern societies. Weddings are more personal in this day and time, and really can be as fancy or as modest as the participants want. Members of both species can choose to have their vows officiated by a religious leader, or they may simply choose a legally licensed lay person to administer the binding oath.” He surprised her with a quick kiss, then said, “You know, Dear, you taste a lot better now that we’re two-of-a-kind.” He nuzzled the enticing-smelling base of her ears, nibbled her cheeks, then worked his way under her chin where a major lapin scent gland resides. “Jesus!” he suddenly exclaimed, then had to quickly hold her at arms’ length, his eyes wide, his mouth open.
A fast-growing bulge in the front of his blue satin shorts signified the kind of reaction he was experiencing. “Th-that was like an electric shock!” he gasped while she looked at him in concern. “But…but I didn’t think you were in estrus. L’niik told me—”
“I am many weeks away from my time,” she said, confusion causing her to frown. “I don’t understand why you’re having such a…a reaction.” D’jiin quickly suggested she nuzzle him under his chin, and moments after she did S’leen quivered and took a sudden deep breath. She cooed, then dreamily blinked and smiled at him.
“Is there a chance that you’ve come back into season?” he carefully asked.
Her smile didn’t melt away as she replied, “A female knows when she is fertile, D’jiin, and I am certain that I am far away from my time.” She slowly stroked her claw-tipped fingers over his muzzle, then trailed them provocatively down his chest and belly to end with a playful tweak of the still-prominent bulge in his shorts, which caused him to yip and jump in discomfort. “Our stories tell of a time long ago when romantic males and females did—this—whenever they wished.”
“Kind of an ‘open season’, huh,” he said, grinning.
“I, uh—” She paused, completely at a loss for words.
“L’niik is a good teacher,” he explained as he struggled to get himself back under control. “In the past few days he’s brought me up to speed on things I’ll wager no human knows about our people, as well as a lot of grim details about our bloody history.”
She frowned and emphatically shook her head. “One human knows. I…I told Cory some of the shameful things that have shaped our society.” She added in a low voice, “He had said some things that—well, he needed to know the truth.”
“Yea, verily, and the truth shall set you free,” D’jiin dryly quipped, “if it doesn’t get you killed in the process.”
Over S’leen’s weak protests he outlined his plans for the evening’s festivities, then made several quick phone calls ending with, “Yes, Reverend Harriston, we’d like to begin the ceremony promptly at nine p.m. If you could be here no later than eight I’ll explain a few things, answer your questions and give you a large-print script of our vows to study.” He smiled into the telephone, adding, “And along with the customary fee, I’ll have you a fresh bottle of Glenfiddich to take home as a remembrance of the evening.” D’jiin paused, then laughed. “Tonight I promise you a surprise you’ll never forget. Just remember to dress casual and glue your dentures in tight. Goodbye!”
To S’leen’s puzzled expression he explained, “He’s the only human minister on this mudball I honestly respect, and before the ceremony I’ll give him every opportunity to back out although I really don’t think he will. Harry believes in the human-specific God, but despite his advancing age he’s also very pragmatic.”
* * *
At a quarter-to-nine D’jiin ended his intense, rapid-fire narrative with, “—And that’s why there had to be a public funeral, Harry. Otherwise, the roaches would have kept on trying to kill ‘Black Jack Ross’ until they succeeded, and along with their primary target only God knows how many others might have died.”
The minister sat quietly at the breakfast nook table, and after nearly a minute had passed he softly spoke. “Why do you want me to administer the vows, Jack, er, D’jiin? This obviously won’t be a Lutheran marriage ceremony, so I don’t see how it could be official. Anyway, I don’t read or speak your language, so—”
“H’kaah law,” D’jiin gently interrupted, “simply states that a ‘priest or person who customarily performs weddings’ must conduct the ceremony. There are no H’kaah priests here on Earth, and I really don’t want someone like a notary officiating our wedding. For that matter, Harry, you’re the only religious official on any world that I’m comfortable standing before.” When the man didn’t say anything D’jiin said, “As for the language problem, we have human guests who don’t speak H’kaah, so whatever’s said will have to be said in English.” After a pause he added, “I guess the question is, are you comfortable performing the service?”
Reverend Harry Harriston spent a few moments studying the two pages of notes D’jiin had given him, then he pursed his lips, smiled and said, “D’jiin, the vows are short and to-the-point, and…and certainly not offensive to my beliefs. Since you say there are people here who don’t know your true identity I’ll be careful not to let any references to your, um, ‘former life’ creep into the ceremony.” He paused for a moment, then added, “If you’ll permit an old minister a few words in addition to this,” and he tapped the printed sheets, “I’d be honored to tie the knot for you and this sweet young—well, er, S’leen.”
The black-furred H’kaah breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief before saying, “Harry, the honor is all ours.” He looked at the wall clock and added as he stood up, “We’ve got about ten minutes before showtime, so I’m gonna go have myself a quick panic attack and barf up the Big Mac I ate this afternoon, then I’ll brush my teeth, take a leak and try not to be late for my own wedding.” D’jiin quickly left the kitchen to the accompaniment of hearty laughter.
Nine o’clock found a small mixed group of humans and H’kaah seated in folding chairs on the pool patio. Muted Bach drifted from the outdoor speakers while several discreetly-located bug lights busily zapped nocturnal pests before they could annoy the wedding guests. The Reverend Harry Harriston, wearing khaki slacks and a shocking pink Hawaiian-style shirt, stepped up to a small lectern and placed upon it a worn black Bible and a few folded sheets of paper. After a long moment spent studying what was printed on the papers he peered over his half-glasses, sweeping his aged, rheumy eyes across the collection of expectant faces, some of them looking like images from a child’s storybook. He smiled.
“Ladies, gentlemen and H’kaah friends,” he began, his voice clear and strong, “we’re gathered here tonight to celebrate more than a marriage. No doubt you thought you were here simply as invited wedding guests, but believe me, what will take place shortly has never been done on this old planet. The next few minutes will truly be what they call ‘history in the making’.” He grinned, adding, “I’m just glad I lived long enough to see it, and I feel truly blessed to be an active participant.”
Reverend Harriston cleared his throat, then began. “Our modern societies and religions, human and H’kaah alike, wholeheartedly agree on the fact that marriage is a sacred trust, and must not be entered into lightly. Man and woman, male and female; a traditional marri
age for any of us is, by its nature, a union created to form a family, most often with the hope of rearing children in a stable, loving environment. We would not have been created by our God as man and woman, male and female, without a good reason, and countless generations of both our species’ ancestors prove beyond any doubt the sound logic behind the concept of holy matrimony.”
He gestured to a high wall of shrubbery behind the seated wedding guests. “Will the bride and her attendant, and the groom and his attendant, please come forward?”
From a break in the solid green barrier stepped four figures. Two were recognizably H’kaah; the other two were completely covered in floor length heavy red satin, deeply hooded robes. L’niik escorted the shorter of the covered figures while F’haan guided the other, and as the figures moved up a narrow aisle between the chairs and took their places in front of the lectern the audience saw that the two attendants’ clothing was made from the same red satin material as the robes.
Most of the humans in the audience were surprised to see that both of the attendants were armed; L’niik carried a massive Scottish Claymore broadsword while F’haan sported an ornate Japanese samurai sword better suited to her smaller size, both borrowed from Jack Ross’ prized collection of authentic edged weapons. Another shock to the humans was the pair of red velvet ropes the attendants held in their free hands, ropes that trailed up to and into the head areas of the hooded robes.
It looked disturbingly like the mysterious, cloaked figures were prisoners being led to their execution.
Reading carefully from his notes, Harriston intoned, “Red is the color of fire, and through extraordinary means the two before us this night have forged a relationship of love and respect that burns brighter than the stars. The only thing brighter than the fire of their love is the blazing glory of Almighty God who watches over us all and blesses us with His eternal love.”
L’niik and F’haan solemnly presented Reverend Harriston with the ropes they held, then each one withdrew about six feet back and to the side from the shrouded figures. The procedure, so far, had appeared somewhat pagan, with only Harriston’s words and demeanor serving as an anchor for the Christian and Jewish humans in the audience.
After peering briefly at his notes, Harriston looked wistfully at the rope ends he now held. “These ropes,” he carefully explained to the gathered humans, “are symbolic of a time when H’kaah had to be restrained from, uh, allowing their passions free rein. The passing of the ropes to the officiating priest signifies that the couple agrees to be bound, in law and in spirit, by the matrimonial agreement.” Harriston carefully tied the ends of the ropes into a solid knot, then held it over his head for all to see.
“The binding has begun,” he stated, then draped the knotted rope over the lectern. “Reveal yourselves to those who would witness this marriage,” Harriston commanded, and both robed, hooded figures deliberately slid the coverings off their bodies, letting the crimson fabric fall to the white tile deck before kicking them out of the way. With the weight of the material removed, two sets of H’kaah ears sprang to their normal upright positions, but that wasn’t the cause of several surprised gasps from the audience.
Other than their lush fur and the red velvet ropes around their necks, both D’jiin and S’leen were totally nude from the tips of their ears to the sole pads of their rabbit-like feet, and they both slowly turned to face the audience, then they bowed deeply before turning back to face the minister. Many of the humans in the small wedding audience, the Reverend Harry Harriston included, had never seen any of the lapin aliens unclothed.
One woman whispered, “His…his thingie is just a furry lump!”
Her neighbor whispered back, “That’s a sheath, dearie, kind of like a dog’s. I can assure you that when they’re aroused they’re more than ‘man enough’ to take care of business.”
While in another section of the audience a man muttered, “Oh my!” upon getting a good look at S’leen. Two chairs to his right another man hurriedly crossed his legs to hide the growing lump in the crotch of his pants. In his front row seat Police Lieutenant Nolan Green squirmed with embarrassment. The H’kaah pair before him were friends, and seeing them this way made the conservative-minded cop very uncomfortable.
After clearing his throat and nervously swallowing, Reverend Harriston intoned, “You stand this night before God and witnesses, clothed as you were at your birth when you first met Him. Are you ready to complete the binding?”
“I, D’jiin of the family S’pook, am ready.”
There was a hastily muffled snicker and several sputtering coughs from the audience.
“I, S’leen of the family M’faan, am ready.”
“Very well,” Harriston said, smiling as he again carefully read from the notes. “Do you, D’jiin, promise to love and honor S’leen? Will you provide for her, care for her in good times and bad, help raise any children she may bear, and will you grow old with her?”
“I, D’jiin, promise S’leen these things and more.” He reached up and untied the rope around her neck, letting it fall to the patio tiles. Harriston handed him a half-inch-wide woven platinum collar, which D’jiin carefully fastened around S’leen’s throat.
“Do you, S’leen, promise to love and honor D’jiin?” Harriston asked. “Will you support him in his endeavors, care for him in good times and bad, raise any children your union may produce, and will you grow old with him?”
“I, S’leen, promise D’jiin these things and more.” She reached up and untied the rope around his neck, letting it join hers on the patio tiles. Then she accepted a slightly larger platinum collar from Harriston that was otherwise the twin of her own and fastened it around D’jiin’s throat.
During the entire procedure neither H’kaah showed any recognizable emotion; even their normally expressive, fluffy tails lay flat against their buttocks. For many in the audience this helped drive home the realization that these weren’t simply humans wearing fur suits. Their mutually stoic demeanor also helped D’jiin curtail any outward physical reaction to S’leen’s presence. While certainly no prude, he had been terrified that nothing more than S’leen’s close proximity—never mind her sensual, musky scent—would give him an untimely erection in front of “God and witnesses”.
When D’jiin had voiced this concern to L’niik late that afternoon the white male H’kaah laughed and said, “Such problems were commonplace in ancient times. But a thousand years ago a chemist discovered that after breathing the fumes of a burning taoé root, a male would become totally incapable of responding to a female’s scent—even one in estrus—for about an hour.”
“Great,” D’jiin groused. “Where am I supposed to get a piece of this…this taoé root on such short notice?”
L’niik momentarily smiled and reached into his small nylon fanny pack. He handed his black-furred friend a tiny rubber squeeze bulb that had a cap on its tapered end. “The chemical that nullifies the male’s ability to become aroused is readily available on the homeworld. We normally carry a puffer of it to avoid unfortunate situations like I found myself in when…when I assaulted S’leen.”
D’jiin glared at the large white H’kaah and snarled, “Why
in hell didn’t you use it that night?”
The alien blinked but didn’t shy away, a major reactionary change that D’jiin secretly noted with pride. “I was so upset about not being able to perform to my patron’s satisfaction—” he sighed, slowly shaking his head, “—I forgot to wear my belt bag when we left for the party. At the first tickle of estrus pheromones it’s automatic to dose oneself with it, but when I ran across S’leen I…I had no defense. Remember, I was the only male H’kaah at the party, so there was no one there I could turn to for help.” He looked the dark H’kaah straight in the eye, adding, “The rest you know.”
“Yeesh!” D’jiin replied. “Every day a new piece of the puzzle drops out of the sky. It seems I spend most of my time running and dodging, trying to keep from being squashed by
them.”
“The suppressant should guard you against any kind of reaction from S’leen’s scent,” L’niik said, “but it will be up to you to keep your mind on the ceremony and out of her—”
“Enough!” D’jiin interrupted. “If the minister can bring himself to perform the ceremony—and I’ll make sure to have a notary on hand in case he refuses—then I guess I can control my thoughts long enough to get through the hard part.”
L’niik tilted his head as he looked at D’jiin. “If everything goes according to plan,” he said, deadpan, “the ‘hard part’ will happen shortly after the ceremony.”
D’jiin didn’t hit his friend, he used his teeth.
“—And it is my pleasure,” Reverend Harry Harriston proudly declared, “to pronounce D’jiin and S’leen united in holy matrimony, partners in and for life.” The two H’kaah picked up the ends of the ropes that had bound them, then they joined the ropes into a large, solid knot, creating a symbolic, unbroken circle. They turned to face the audience, held the knot high between them—and they smiled.
“We were two,” they said in unison, “now we are one. Only God can untie the knot.” They momentarily turned back toward Harriston and handed him the rope, and when they turned back to the audience F’haan ceremoniously presented S’leen with the samurai sword, then L’niik passed the huge Claymore to D’jiin. Holding the swords high— D’jiin in his left hand, S’leen in her right—the newlyweds linked their free arms and proudly walked, tails high, down the short aisle between the folding chairs, to disappear behind the wall of high shrubbery behind the seated guests.
Redeeming Factors (Revised) Page 36
