Entara laughed. “I, for one, have no doubt that she did give Klein much pleasure. As I always meant her to.”
“If she cherished him so much, why didn’t she come with me to the funeral? Girls from the pleasure houses all over Domremy who had never copulated once with Klein were pleading to come and sing.”
“If Ragatti mourns, she does it in her own way. Let’s talk of something else. We also need intelligence on the Song Pai. Have you contacted the human I inquired about?”
“I have traced the movements of the Dissenter Trevor, who left Song Pa some time ago. He may be headed for Gamma Lyra Four. Will his mystical insights really help us? Isn’t he really interested in that species that dominated Song Pa before the squids’ civilization replaced them?”
“We’ll have to wait and see. In the meantime, I’m also concerned about our male. Is he going to stay in his quarters forever? I never knew what to expect from a male on a diplomatic mission, but the Brotherhood was so insistent at having their own representative present for planetary deliberations that there was no alternative. I hope he is not going to embarrass us.”
“I’ll try to learn more about him, mother. It’s rumored that he doesn’t behave like a typical male Forlani, but maybe that will turn out to be good.”
“Well, if you think so. After all, you tend to be hyper-critical of most males, so if you think this one has a good side, I’ll be delighted if you’re proven right.”
As Ayan’we was on her way to have a word with Isshel, the lone male member of the Forlani delegation, she found herself in a corridor approaching a group of four fully hermaphroditic Phiddians. Their hands were all over each other, in and out of their flimsy garments. When they spotted Ayan’we, they spread out ever so slightly to make it impossible for her to pass by them in a dignified fashion. She knew what was about to happen. She was about to be vigorously groped by all four of them. Her mother had warned her about this sort of thing.
As soon as Entara learned that her daughter had volunteered for the security cluster being sent to the Varess Conference, she had taken her aside for a talk. Of course, Ayan’we knew from her encyclopedic knowledge of interplanetary cultures that the male/female Phiddians were one of the most sensual species in the known section of the galaxy, indulging in some kind of genital excitement on an average of 7.6 times during a daily cycle. What she lacked was personal experience. Her training sessions for work in the off-planet houses where Forlani females gave pleasure to various other species in exchange for much needed econ credits had covered this area, but mainly in theory. She had by choice avoided practical house service in favor of intensive computer and space training.
Entara, who was at that time expecting any day to give birth to a new member of the matriline, had sat down and shared some heretofore unexplained memories. "When I was in the first year of my house service, and before I had gone to Domremy or met Klein, I had a few Phiddian clients. I want you to know what they are like in their private lives, in case your official duties make it necessary, or even desirable, for you to become intimate with them. Do you feel comfortable talking about this?”
“Of course, mother, I’m no prude. I bet I… well let’s not get into that yet. Please go on.”
“Well, you’ve undoubtedly heard that the Phiddian humanoids are quite uninhibited about any kind of physical intimacy and that is completely true. Maybe even an understatement. They can get so involved in sporting around that they are capable of stupidly neglecting other duties or opportunities.”
“Uh huh.”
“You will surely see them pawing each other in situations where any other species would exercise a little discretion, and that sort of exploring is not limited to their own kind. I foresee that they will have some problems abiding by the decorum required in interplanetary gatherings. In fact, I was surprised when they volunteered to host the conference at all and more surprised when all the principal parties accepted. The Song Pai, for instance, are notoriously slovenly about many of their bodily functions, but are great sticklers when it comes to anything approaching reproduction. They’ll have to cover all five of their eyes to put up with some Phiddian behavior.”
They both laughed at this joke. Humor at the expense of Song Pai was the one little disrespect that the Forlani permitted themselves in regard to the cephalopods who had more than once come gallantly to their aid.
“But mother,” Ayan’we went on, “What was it like to actually pleasure them?”
“The only thing remotely hard is deciding which sex to address first. Because they will usually insist on having it both ways. More often than not they will blurt out exactly what they want you to do. Don’t worry about failing to please them, because they are so excitable that virtually anything will set them off and after a minute or two they completely lose control of themselves. Their peak of excitement lasts only an instant, but they demand it again and again until they grow weary and eventually nod off from utter exhaustion. You don’t have to engage in much drama, pretending that they are exciting you, because they literally don’t care. They can be totally insensitive to what another individual is feeling when they get in that state.”
“The poor idiots! Don’t they get taken advantage of by other partners?”
“Just imagine. That’s why they were frequent clients at our houses. They can always depend on our honesty and hatred of aggression. Elsewhere, they have been known to let themselves get kidnapped or abused, even murdered for fun. And of course, they are victims to innumerable robberies. They would be a natural for blackmail, too, except that they have no sense of shame about sexual matters. Instead of hiding their misadventures, they willingly brag about them.”
“Wasn’t anyone ever tempted to grab some of their credits anyway?”
Entara gave a coy smile. “Yes and no. I never knew any Forlani to rob them or even to beg for more than the agreed price. On the other hand, just for fun, sometimes a girl would prod them a little to see how far they would go, just to have a good joke for the fireside later, and then give back all their money and jewelry while they were asleep before she left. They would be too stupefied to remember what happened after they awoke.”
“You?”
“Well, I’m a little embarrassed to recall it. However, one time there was this certain client who was so besotted with me that I took off a precious nose ring and put it … in a piercing elsewhere on the body. I took before and after images and the whole house shook with laughter at dinner that night.”
Ayan’we giggled along with her mother, but inside she was secretly a bit shocked to learn that the woman who had become a legend because of her emotional bond to Klein had once had such a mischievous streak. Perhaps she still did.
This conversation flashed through Ayan’we’s mind as she approached the gaggle of Phiddians and sure enough, as she tried to squeeze past, she felt hands brushing on all her reachable organs. They were very active little fingers, too, despite the fact that the Phiddians had only four to a hand. The ones who were feeling for her nipples would have been disappointed, since they were pretty hard to locate amidst the frontal fur of an unmated Forlani female. Those searching for the entrance to what would become her birth canal got what they wanted. This caused her no great discomfort, though, since any girl who had gone through her pleasure training had gotten past that point on the first day.
“Oops, how clumsy of us,” tittered one of the Phiddians. The others echoed in with such mock excuses. “Please allow us to make up for our thoughtlessness by offering you a delicious drink at the tavern. The station has stocked a variety of exotic juices that are bound to tickle your senses. We know that you Forlani have no taste for stronger intoxicants.”
Ayan’we nodded and smiled, knowing that this group would stop in the tavern precisely long enough to gulp down one glass before heading off to a private cubicle for a fast orgy. “Regrettably,” she drawled, “I am expected to report to my superiors. I wish you a delightful break from your labors.”
“What a waste of time that would be!” whispered Ayan’we as she continued unmolested up the corridor.
As she turned the corner into a larger passageway, she failed to notice two figures who had fallen in behind her and paused at the entrance of the corridor to observe her brush with the lascivious Phiddians. They were two of the Song Pai delegation, turned gunmetal grey in thought as they saw how Ayan’we dealt with the awkward situation. When the Phiddians stopped playing with each other long enough to notice the two figures, they made no attempt to intercept them as they had with the lithe young Forlani. Instead, they flattened themselves in single file against the wall as the huge cephalopods, even bulkier than usual in their water-breathing apparatus, cruised past. Politely, the Song Pai also went by in Indian file, confining their tentacles to the smallest possible area to avoid contact with the Phiddians, who probably would have leapt in fright if they had to touch those slimy-looking bodies. The Song Pai said nothing, but bobbed up and down rapidly in delight at the cowardly reaction of their hosts. Song Pai loved nothing more than battle, but disdained conflict with species too ridiculously weak to provide a good test of their valor. This did not prevent them from humiliating their inferiors, often splattering them with feces. However, these two guards knew they were on a diplomatic mission where they had to curb their native taste for fun at the expense of lesser creatures. So they confined themselves to the slightest indirect hints of aggression and enjoyed the prospect of sharing this story with their counterparts back on the Song Pai ship.
When the Phiddians had rushed into another corridor, the Song Pai paused and burbled to each other in their own idiom.
“The young tailed one displays initiative and courage. She may prove a worthy ally to die with some day.”
“That is true, but I think she is too young to be charged with such an important job as security chief. Our own second eldest is much more suitable. This Ayan’we may make a serious mistake.”
“Perhaps she was the only one available for such burdens. The tailed ones are new to these cosmic conferences which do little but waste time and foment distrust.”
“That could well be, but I think her mother Entara is much more foolish to bring that infant with her to such an event. Never would we bring our young from the spawning grounds back home to take risks in space. What could she have been thinking?”
“I heard she has numerous other offspring. She might feel one here or there does not matter.”
“I do not concur. When I served as a guard at their spaceport, I noticed that they display much care for their young -- for mammals, anyway.”
“But I understand they are not placental mammals in the same sense as the humans, the Phiddians, and the Coriolans.”
“True, their race corresponds to a particular type of animal the Earthlings call marsupials. On their Earth, this group preceded the evolution of placental mammals, but was replaced by them in most areas. However, Forlani differ from these marsupials because they have no pouch. Their young are born at a much more advanced stage and grow very quickly. Their nourishment by the mother lasts only a few seasons.”
“You truly learned much during your spaceport assignment. Yet I have trouble agreeing that the Forlani are to be considered more primitive than humans.”
“Of course they are not! On Forlan, they represent the alpha race, having millions of years longer to evolve than the humans had on their planet. They should be considered superior to humans.”
“Even so, from what you say of their raising their young, I now see that this Entara and her infant present a potential security vulnerability for us, as their allies. Should we not recommend to the elder that Agent I-35 must be very vigilant for their welfare?”
“And especially pay attention to whoever may be hanging around their lodgings. The infant is essentially helpless and could make us vulnerable as well in these so-called negotiations.”
“Let’s find the second eldest and make the suggestion.”
Ayan’we paused to collect her thoughts a bit before pressing the buzzer to the door of the male’s compartment. She knew from experience that she always tended to be too abruptly formal with males, perhaps as a result of her terrible relationship with her scheming and disloyal father Tays’she. Ayan’we did not wish to get this working relationship off on the wrong foot. The male who accompanied the delegation had shown all the typical signs of laziness and dissipation. Still, there were ways he could prove useful if he could bestir himself from his aesthetic considerations for a while.
The buzzer was answered by a curt “Enter.” Ayan’we prepared for the worst and opened the door to see the male was standing behind a table with an elaborate hood suspended above it. The hood was made of a clear material, but was studded with innumerable metallic dots, probably some kind of electrodes. Beneath the hood sat a large basin of water. The male was fiddling with an object next to it. He glanced up at her, then back to his work, and immediately did a double take. He gazed with interest at Ayan’we for a second and then did something very uncharacteristic of Forlani males in female company – he turned his palms up in a gesture of respect.
“Welcome. Isshel of the fourth degree.”
“With thanks. Ayan’we of Eyes of Alertness, of Entara.” Having properly introduced herself by reference to her extended matrilineal clan and her mother, Ayan’we took note that Isshel would not have been required by male protocol to reveal that he had already reached the prestigious fourth degree of artistic achievement. If he was not simply bragging, this would be a further sign of respect.
Isshel gestured towards a pair of stools and they both sat. “How can I be useful?”
“I have been wanting to speak with you about the upcoming ceremonies. Now that the opening is imminent, I suspect we will all be very busy.” It was the most subtle way she could suggest that the male had not been playing a very active role in the delegation so far.
“Yes, you’re right,” he readily admitted. “I must apologize for my lack of contributions up to now. To be honest, I have been keeping to myself partly out of fear of committing some diplomatic gaffe. You see, I have received almost no training for this sort of thing and have no idea what to do.”
“I’m sure we can help. Are there specific things about the mission you would like to understand?”
Isshel sighed woefully. “Just about everything. Please understand that the Brotherhood does not even school us in the basics of interplanetary relationships. I have been studying, when I could tear myself away from this project,” he said with a wave of the arm to his contraption on the table and another at a desk full of memory devices and visuals. “It’s just that I didn’t even have an idea of where all these planets and civilizations were located. I made a mobile to help visualize them in space. I’m a sculptor, right? I’m still having trouble figuring out how all these creatures work, physically, but I think I can at least recognize them and remember what not to do in some circumstances. I just don’t see how I can help you with anything important.”
“I have been talking with my mother…”
“Entara para-pa of the Nine!” he pronounced with obvious admiration. “I long to meet her and hope I won’t embarrass us.”
“I’m sure you will find she is very easy to approach. We feel your most useful contribution could be to observe the psychological interplay between members of the other delegations from a male point of view. Especially the Phiddians, who are, as you know, hermaphroditic, and shift constantly between what appear to be male personality traits and female ones. I don’t mind admitting that I’ve found them a bit confusing so far.”
“Psychology is one of the things we do study. In between endless repetitive courses on mass, color, perspective, contrast, light, movement – which at least play a role in our creative efforts. It’s the nauseating levels of abstract artistic theory that are hardest to take: primitivism, collectivism, indivi
dualism, sophistry, post-sophistry, pre-sophistry, Pungism, post-Pungism, neo-post-Pungism... ugh!”
“Sounds very... involved.” Ayan’we just stopped herself from saying “useless.”
“The problem is it’s not involved with anything relevant. I don’t want to take it anymore and that’s why I’m really here.”
Ayan’we arched her brows a bit. She had hardly expected this sort of confession. Most males considered their feelings far too sophisticated and advanced to share with females, particularly ones they barely knew.
“You mean you were not picked for this trip by the Brotherhood because of your expertise?”
“Certainly not. I was picked to get me off planet and keep me there during the triennial synod. My voice was not one they wanted to hear. Many others were given distant chores for the same reason.”
“I am surprised that they approach artistic issues in such a stilted way.”
“Not just artistic issues. What they are most angry about are the social issues. Listen, Ayan’we, I wouldn’t mention this publicly to just anyone, but as the daughter of Entara you should understand. We know that your mother has begun to raise concerns about practices within the Brotherhood. Above all, the gelding.” Forlani males, outnumbered by females by about thirty to one because of their less frequent nativity, further skewed the odds by sterilizing certain young members they considered intellectually unfit, turning them into dobutu, poor creatures who, lacking male hormones, degenerated into thuggish slaves. The Brotherhood had agreed ages ago to stop using dobutu as brutish enforcers, but exceptions still occurred. Ayan’we remembered that her mother’s paramour Klein had been ambushed more than once by dobutu controlled by Tays’she. She was grateful her three brothers, cared for since infancy by the Brotherhood, had avoided gelding. Nevertheless, like her mother, she abhorred the practice.
Spy Station Page 2
