by Paul Lucas
Lerner’s words from that night in the Tower kept haunting me, when he said that sometimes he wished I was human. That was impossible, of course, but I thought maybe if I could make myself seem more human to him, he would find me more attractive. I traded some pottery and painted hides for some human clothing from the female crewmembers on the helistat that passed through our territory only a few weeks before. Trading with human crews had become common enough, and no one thought twice of my bartering for human knick knacks.
I had to make a number of adjustments so my new human-style clothing could fit my decidedly non-human body. The "jeans" fit fine, once I got my feet through the narrow-fitted leggings, and skirts and their undergarments I had also no trouble with.
Not everything I tried worked so well, of course. Shirts and blouses, designed for wingless arms, proved unworkable. I discovered human-style makeup does not mesh well with a face covered in fur and that high-heeled shoes were no doubt the work of the criminally insane. My experiments with the bewildering garment called a ‘bra’ are best left undetailed.
Everyone in the community quickly noticed my different mode of dress and for the first time I could remember I could see looks of genuine envy on the other females. Human-made cloth from the Known Nations was much more colorful and intricate than our own cured hides and loom products, making me an instant exotic commodity in the eyes of the bachelor males, who began showering me with much more attention than usual despite my cool attitude toward them.
The only one who seemed oblivious to my new fashions was the very person they were designed to impress the most. Lerner hardly commented on them, and indeed seemed not to notice any change I ever made in my appearance to please him.
We stopped momentarily to rest, lowering our burden gently to the ground. “So," I said between pants of breath, spreading my wings wide to cool off, “I hear that Brightwind wants to become a helistat pilot, now.”
The human shrugged. “Yeah. The captain of the Galen’s Lover let him and a few of the other youngsters onto the helistat's bridge when it was here. According to his mother, it’s all he has been able to talk about since.”
“Is it possible for him to actually become a pilot?”
“Seriously? I don’t know. He asked me the same thing. I told him he’d have to go to the KN when he was old enough and be schooled and trained properly. That would take at least a good half a dozen years. And of course he told that to Clearsky.”
“Uh-oh,” I said.
“Yeah. You would not believe how angry she was. She yelled at me for a good half-hour, saying I was giving her impressionable baby youngster dangerous ideas. Flying monstrous machines! Travelling to some alien land and spending years away from his family! I must be some kind of monster, she said.”
“At least we know where Cloud gets it from.”
He shrugged. “Ah, she was just being a protective mother, I guess. You might as well blame a fish for swimming or sky-wisp for floating.”
“Or a human for being obstinate.”
I meant the comment just to be a playful tease, but it darkened Lerner’s mood considerably. “Come on,” he said abruptly, grabbing the glider. “Let’s get this up there.”
We resumed our lugging, until my shirt snagged on a low-hanging tree branch. I had been experimenting with cutting the sleeves off and the sides open and wearing them hassock style, with a string tied around my waist to hold them in place. Lerner shook his head as we lowered the glider again. "I still don't understand why you insist on wearing that."
I pulled the fabric from the branch, a bit annoyed at him. "Human females wear similar and you do not complain."
“That’s because they’re human. You’re Myotan. You should wear Myotan things."
“You are beginning to sound like Cloud," I said. “Besides, it is a pretty shirt. Not that you would ever notice."
“That’s beside the point. You shouldn’t try to be something you’re not. That shirt’s not going to make you human anymore than this glider is going to make me Myotan. You shouldn’t be so dazzled by human things that you adopt any silly fad that comes along."
My annoyance flared hot. “Do not talk to me like I am a youngster! I am not trying to be human and this is not a fad! I wore this because I thought I looked nice in it!" I carelessly dropped my end of glider. It thumped to the ground loudly. "And if you think I am so stupid and weak-willed that I act like a raven with a shiny every time I see a new human thing, then maybe you should get a new assistant!" I stomped angrily past him and down the trail, snapping my wing membranes loudly for emphasis.
Lerner, after a moment, ran after me. "Goss! Wait! Goss, please!" He maneuvered himself in front of me, stopping me short. "Look, I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it like that."
I crossed my arms and refused to look at him.
"But I still don’t understand why you keep wearing..."
"I wore it for you!" I yelled, suddenly blinking back hot moisture. “Why do you keep making this so hard? Do I really look so hideous? Am I really just some kind of perversion to you, one you just can’t seem to bring yourself to indulge in?”
Before Lerner could react I ran from him, not wanting to endure the humiliation of his reaction, whatever it was. I ran from him, back along the trail to the Tower, the wilderness around me blurring with tears.
Lerner did not follow.
* * *
I avoided him for two days straight. No one questioned me when I suddenly rejoined the food-gathering chores, holding catch-baskets for others while they rooted around in the months-old storm debris of the forest, looking for sweetmoss and newly-grown mushrooms. Oh, I could hear them whispering to themselves, about how the human's alienness must have finally gotten to me and driven me off. I had abandoned wearing human clothes and most of the other non-Myotan affectations I had picked up over the last half-year.
I had been so stupid! How could I ever have pretended that Lerner could learn to like me like that? It was obvious in the way he had begun to patronize me, like a wayward youngster. Perhaps he had always treated me like that, and I had been too awed by his exotic human ways to notice. Perhaps I had never been anything more to him than just some clever primitive he had strung along just to observe my reactions.
Not everyone proved oblivious to my distress, however. Feather knew something was seriously wrong, but I met her concerned questions with stony silence. The less anyone suspected the truth, the better. I could not handle the humiliation.
Windrider came to my quarters early in the morning of the second day. I turned away, burying myself in the long, dried grass lining my sleeping mat. I did not want her to see me crying. She did not ask a single question nor even said a single word, but just kneeled beside me, stroking my shoulder. Somehow she just knew that I needed her, and came.
That night I snuck out of Tower and retreated to one of my favorite brooding spots, a small break in the rows of trees in the backmost cherry orchard. When one sat back against a tree at a certain angle, one could see almost half the sky through the canopies. I did just that, contemplating the incredible panorama of the Shards slowly wheeling against the sky in all their nighttime glory. I had read that Earth had only a measly ten thousand or so specks of light, which were in reality very distant suns, visible at night. Above me wheeled over a million fragments of the Eden Sphere stretching from horizon-haze to horizon-haze, each shining by reflected sunlight. The only break from them was the sun, now hidden by its nighttime disk of darkness. Unfettered by any clouds on nights like this, the Shards lent a ghostly luminescence to the land, much as I imagined old Earth’s large moon must have done for it. The whole vista had always seemed incredibly beautiful to me, even after I learned of the horrible price that had been paid to create it.
I tried to imagine what the sky must have looked like five thousand years ago, before the Great Cataclysm, when the entire length and breadth of the intact Eden Sphere in all its glory must have been visible. I also tried to envisio
n what it must have looked like during the Cataclysm.
To see the very sky itself shatter.
“Gossamyr? Goss, is that you?”
Lerner appeared down the line of trees, slowly ambling toward me, as if giving me plenty of time to flee if I wanted to. Panic gripped me as I did think briefly of running away, but I knew that some kind of confrontation was inevitable. Might as well just let the winds take me where they may.
He sat down next to me. I did not look at him, but I was aware of everything he did; the way he moved, the way he breathed, the way he drew his knees up to his chest just like me.
We were quiet for a while.
He spoke up at last. “Gossamyr, you are not hideous and nothing we could ever do together could be a perversion. I am sorry you might have gotten that impression and for everything I said. I've missed you these last few days."
I could barely summon the strength to speak past the weight in my gullet. "I am sorry I have been remiss in my duties as your assistant."
"Gossamyr . . ."
"And I am so sorry I embarrass you, that I make you feel uncomfortable." My words suddenly tumbled out of me in a rush. “I am sorry that I have acted so stupidly these past few months, trying to get you to like me as more than a friend. We are too different. I must be so ugly to you.”
"Ugly?" he said. "You are not ugly. Just different. Its taken me a while to get used to it, is all. I know it must have been the same for you. And you don't embarrass me at all. You just take me by surprise sometimes, the way you're always so eager to try new things."
"You do not have to tell me kind lies, Lerner. Especially since it took you two days to finally come around to say them."
He idly rolled a clump of dried earth around on the ground. “I needed the time to think. It’s something I haven’t really been doing a lot of, lately, I guess. I kind of knew how you felt, and I feel the same way, but I kept thinking that it was all just a passing mood and we'd get over it. I don’t think I’m so hesitant around you just because we’re from different races. I mean, that’s still probably part of it, but the more I think of it the less important it seems.”
He straightened out his legs, looking up at the sky. “The way you make me feel, especially since the night of that storm, is intimidating, sometimes. Goss, I haven’t felt this way about anyone, ever. I don’t think it would matter much if you were a Myotan or a human or a Builder goddess descended from the heavens, because my reaction would probably still be the same. Whenever you're around things seem more, I don't know, momentous. I’m not sure I’m ready to handle those kinds of feeling.”
“So where does that leave us now?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
I shook my head. “Lerner, these past few days have been painful. Frustrating. I cannot live like this. I think we know how we feel about each other. Either we spread our wings and fly this wind together or we do not. But I cannot go on as something in between. Decide, right now, what you want. It does not matter what it is. I will live with your decision. But I have to know!”
He canted his head to one side, thought about it for a dozen heartbeats, then nodded to himself. He sprung to his feet and began walking away.
Spirits, no.
He stopped after a few steps and turned back toward me. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
I looked at him bewildered, but did as he asked. It took him nearly a half-hour to return, carrying a burden. He must have gone to the Tower and back. “Lerner, what is that?”
“Blankets,” he said, unrolling them. “No sense in us being cold or uncomfortable. I don’t want anything to distract us.”
My eyes widened, my heart thumping wildly against my chest. “Does this mean what I think?”
He nodded. “I guess I knew from the moment I came out here what decision I was going to make. Maybe I just wanted you to convince me.” He suddenly seemed very unsure. "Um, that is, if you're still willing to, uh, fly this wind with me?"
Now that the moment had come, I suddenly felt very nervous and shy myself. I just smiled and nodded, afraid to say anything lest the nervous tremble in my stomach found its way into my voice.
His face lit up in a slight smile as he sat down next to me by the tree and wrapped the blankets around us. I had to hold back a bemused snicker; almost the exact same expression Clearsky and Ripplefur had both worn on the occasions I had agreed to "experiment" with them. Some aspects of being male must be universal, no matter the species. “Perhaps we should go to my quarters,” I said. “Or to yours.”
“And have everyone around us know what we’re doing, with their extra-sensitive Myotan hearing and smell? Goss, you and I are pretty open-minded, and think of the trouble we had getting to this point. Imagine what it’s going to take to make the rest of the community here to accept us like this. If you really want to do this, then we should keep it quiet as long as we can. We’ll have to introduce them to the concept slowly, just to be safe.”
We knelt facing each other, our bodies close enough to feel each other’s warmth. Lerner looked pensively at me, tugging on his lip with his teeth. “So, um, how do we start?” he asked.
“I do not know,” I confessed. “If you were Myotan, I would know exactly what to do.”
“Same with me, if you were human.”
“Hmm. Um, okay. Why do we not try kissing? I have read about that in human books.”
He seemed unsure. “That’s not something Myotans do.”
“But it is something you will like. Let us try it.”
We bent close and pressed our lips together. I made a good effort, but after a few heartbeats I could only start giggling with my mouth mashed to his. We pulled apart. “I do not think that is going to work,” I said.
“Your muzzle isn’t quite built for it,” He agreed. “Hm. I know.” He dropped the surrounding blanket a bit to gentle reach for my triangular ears. His fingers began to tentatively caress the edge of the thin, sensitive skin. “I’ve listened to enough dirty jokes around the hearthfires to know that females are supposed to like this. Am I doing it right?”
I nodded. “Almost. You have the right idea. Gentler, though. Use longer strokes.” I gasped at the sensation as his fingers glided over the full length of my ears. “Like that, yes. I--Ooo. Mmm.”
His self-satisfied smirk was priceless, and it only became larger the more I moaned encouragement.
We moved on to other things, and soon our clothes were flung about us like they had been caught in a windstorm. What followed were some of the most awkward, clumsy, frustrating, and wonderful hours of my life as we experimented in how to please each other. Not everything we tried worked, but a lot did.
We did not engage in the act of actual mating, as both of us felt we were not quite ready for that. Yet. Still, what we did do satisfied us so that we fell deep asleep tangled in each others’ limbs.
* * *
We awoke an hour before dawn, according to Lerner’s watch. It was a peaceful, languid kind of wakening, as one person’s stirring gently nudged the other back to the world. The landscape was still as ghostly-dark as when we had fallen asleep. Unlike on old Earth, where dawn was always preceded by an extensive graying of the sky, here on the MegaShard the transition from night to day took seconds, like a spark from a flint suddenly catching a pile of dried grass. But that was some time away yet.
We rolled on our sides to face each other, smiling without words for a good long time. Lerner half-whispered, “Goss, have I ever told you that you’re beautiful?”
Finger on chin, as if I was truly thinking of it, I said, “I do not think so. Perhaps you should repeat it many times from now on, to make up for your past negligence.”
“I will. You’re beautiful.”
“That is a good start,” I said with a satisfied smile. I sat up and stretched my wings up and out, to their fullest extent. “Ouch!”
“What’s wrong?”
“My left wing’s a little sore. I think you slept on it for a li
ttle while.”
He propped himself up on his elbows, looking stricken. “Geez, I’m sorry.”
I stroked his cheek with my tool finger. “It is okay, Lerner. Really. A small price to pay for such a wonderful night.”
“It was great, wasn’t it?”
“And we will only get better with practice, I imagine.”
A sly grin crossed his lips as he leaned forward to nuzzle and nip my neck. “So when do you want to ‘practice’ again?”
I giggled like a youngster. “We have to check on the glider this afternoon, do we not?”
He chuckled and pulled me closer to him, his lips traveling down to my collarbone, and lower still. “Lerner,” I said with great reluctance, “we do not have time to ‘practice’ any further tonight. The Orchard tenders will be here shortly after dawn.”
He pulled away and sighed like only a frustrated male could. “I know. But I can at least hold you for a couple more minutes, can’t I?”
“Of course.”
“Are we going to have any trouble sneaking back in? I’m not usually up at this hour, so I don’t know who’s going to be about.”
“Windrider usually wakes before dawn, but I do not think you need worry about her. I think she will not say anything if she sees us. In fact, she would probably wonder why it took us so long to get together.”
“She’s a sharp old bird.”
“She is,” I agreed. “The only other people who will be up at this hour will be the hunters--Lerner!”
My warning came too late as a thick spear shaft shot out of nowhere and slammed Lerner across the temple, smashing him away from me. Before I could react the weapon descended again, arced back up and then fell a third time, each blow impacting with bone-crunching force. Lerner rolled away into a fetal position, moaning in pain.
Cloud stood over Lerner, screaming incoherent rage. The hunter landed half a dozen more blows before I could drag him away.
TWELVE
