by Anna Carven
He’s too strong for his own good.
Goosebumps instantly appear on my bare skin, drawn out by the cold air.
I look around in panic for the curtain thing, but it’s floated off somewhere and probably sunk down into the depths. It’s nowhere to be seen.
Tarak bends down and picks something up from the floor.
It’s his dress jacket, neatly folded.
With all that drama, when did he have time to fold his suit up into a neat little pile?
“You Humans seem to tolerate low temperatures poorly,” he remarks, draping the jacket around my shoulders. The fabric is thick and soft, and it smells of him. It feels good after being in the pool. I’ve been in the water for so long my fingers have become wrinkled, like little prunes. He fastens the gleaming, black buttons at the front. The sleeves are too long, covering my hands entirely, and the entire thing falls to about mid-thigh. At the back, the long tails of the coat cover the backs of my knees.
It looks ridiculous, but it feels so good. Warm. Familiar.
Meanwhile, the General is still stark naked. “Uh, thanks.” I wrap my arms around my chest, comfortable in my little cocoon, not caring that it’s an oversized Imperial Military dress uniform.
He picks up his pants, throwing them over his shoulder and gestures to me to follow. “Come. Now we can return to my quarters.” He shoots me a pointed look. “Where you were supposed to remain in the first place. All of this could have been avoided.”
“Even that last part?” I tease him, but he simply stares back at me, stone-faced. I roll my eyes. “You could have warned me about the mad scientists. Maybe if you’d explained things a bit better, I wouldn’t have gone out,” I’m unable to take my eyes of his gleaming, naked body. It’s far too distracting. “And General?”
He raises a pale eyebrow.
I point at his pants. “Aren’t you going to, uh, wear those?”
“What for?” He really doesn’t seem to get it. “Does my body offend you, somehow? Even after we’ve mated?”
“No,” I begin, shaking my head. Quite the opposite, actually. “Never mind,” I sigh. “If you ever decide to visit Earth, remind me to go through a few cultural things with you first.”
At least I’ve got a fine view of his taut, toned ass as I follow him back to his quarters, wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.
Tarak
She’s quiet on the way back, this small female. She follows me soundlessly and I wonder if I’ve upset her somehow. We pass through the common area, where several of my soldiers are now seated, eating or playing games or watching the Imperial Broadcast on the large holoscreen.
Some of them glance at us in surprise, but they quickly turn away when they see me.
Of course, they will talk with one another. But they know better than to invade my privacy. The High Council already knows of my transgression, anyway. Mirkel will go running back to them like a pathetic wounded Xargek larvae returning to its queen. But my soldiers will never sell me out to the Nobility.
There’s nothing unusual about taking a female in one’s leisure time. A Human is unexpected, though. Some of them probably don’t even know what a Human is.
As their leader, I should be setting an example and following the High Council’s edict discouraging inter-species mating. But I decide I don’t care anymore. I know many of the soldiers take alien mates on the sly, keeping their relationships discreet.
With so few Kordolian females left, they have little choice but to look outside their race for pleasure and companionship.
However, I had never thought it was possible to have offspring with another species. This Human female is truly a revelation. And her body is a source of deep, unfettered pleasure.
So responsive. She seemed to enjoy the mating as much as I did.
But I have no idea of Human mating rituals. I don’t know what she expects. Did I please her enough? Was I adequate?
We enter my quarters, the Qualum door unfusing as I stand before it. A thought occurs to me and I turn to her. “How did you mange to open this door?”
She blinks, not seeming to understand. “I don’t really know. I was stupidly trying to pull it open, then I tore a nail,” she shows me her finger, where part of the fingernail is torn, revealing raw pink flesh underneath. “Then somehow it came apart.”
“Did you bleed?”
“A little, I think. Just a drop.”
“Ah.” The traces of my biological signature in her blood must have been enough to activate it.
“What do you mean, ‘ah’? Care to explain a little more? You have to be one of the most secretive guys I’ve ever met.”
I keep quiet, and she does that funny thing where her eyes roll up into her head. It seems to be a Human expression of frustration. I don’t want her to know, just yet, that the nanograft she was given came from me. She’s received my blood, and under Kordolian Law, that constitutes a blood-bond. But after what that idiot Mirkel put her through just now, I don’t think she’d process the concept very well.
The door fuses behind us and she closes her eyes, letting out a deep, shuddering sigh.
There are dark circles underneath her eyes, marring her pale, otherwise flawless skin. She seems drained; tired. Of course she’s tired. She’s just survived a nanograft and an abduction attempt.
“Did they harm you?” I ask darkly, pushing the sleeves of the jacket back to reveal her delicate wrists. There are bruises there, and the skin is broken in several places. At some point, she’s bled. Her ankles are also marked, and there’s a faint line along her forehead. They’re marks from restraints. I know them all too well.
“Not really,” she replies. “Don’t worry. You’ve made that creepy doctor suffer enough.”
“Did he touch you?” I’m going to break Mirkel’s neck. Fuck the High Council and the Twelve Noble Houses. If they provoke me, I’ll set into motion the plan the Prince and I have been assembling for so long and I will raze their Empire to the ground.
“Tarak.” She pulls herself from my grasp, placing a hand on my bare chest. “Enough. I’m fine. I’m a lot better than I was when you rescued me from that insect monster, thanks to you. But you need to tell me what you want. You look like you still want to kill that guy. You look as if you want to kill a whole bunch of guys. But why does it bother you so much that I was captured and almost experimented on? I’m not your property, General, no matter what you think. And according to you, I’m inferior.”
I open my mouth to argue. Under Kordolian Law, she is my property. But seeing the expression on her face, I remain silent. Telling her that would only anger her.
“So I’m asking for the truth now, General. Do you plan on keeping me here? Or are you going to be as good as your word and take me back to Fortuna Tau?”
“You want to go back so badly?”
“It’s my home, General. And they need me in the biomeric plant. As much as I appreciate your efforts to have me healed, I get the feeling your species aren’t really going to accept me. And frankly, that scares the shit out of me. Kordolians in general scare the shit out of me. I’ve actually enjoyed our short time together, and believe it or not, I don’t think you’re really all that bad, I don’t think I’ll survive here.”
She’s right, of course. On Kythia, she would never be accepted as my mate. I’d have to register her as a slave and keep her in an authorized household.
And she, as free and fearless as she is, would be utterly miserable.
But some indisputable facts remain. She’s biologically compatible with our species, and I’ve blood-bonded her and mated her. We could possibly have offspring together.
And for the first time, with her, I reached ecstasy. I’m calm now, more at peace than I’ve been in longer than I can remember. The headache has dissipated completely.
Mating with her felt incredible. It was everything I’d been told about, and more.
Perhaps she didn’t feel the same way.
“Did
you not enjoy it?” I ask, watching her closely.
“What?” She blinks, seemingly confused. “What are you talking about?”
“The mating.” I’m starting to feel, more strongly than ever, that I can’t let her go. “Was it not as good for you?”
“The sex?” The way she looks up at me, with her pink lips slightly parted, makes me want to do it all over again. “Oh the sex was amazing and you know it. Stop trying to distract from the issue. I mean, you’re obviously experienced when it comes to, uh, pleasuring women, but that’s not going to convince me to stick around. I’m not going to be your concubine, General.”
Experienced? Concubine? What nonsense is she babbling now? I narrow my eyes in annoyance. “What are you talking about, Human? I have not been with another female.”
“I mean, what do you expect me to do, hang around in your quarters all-” She stops mid-sentence, looking at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. “What did you just say?”
“I have not been with another.” I shrug, turning to retrieve food from the internal delivery chute. There’s protein mix and the Veronian food I ordered earlier. I detest the over-sweetened, cloying desserts those six-armed Veronians make, but I have the feeling they might be to Abbey’s taste.
When I turn, she’s staring at me with a shocked expression.
“Why does that surprise you so?” I summon a table from the side wall, tapping a command on the small holo-panel. It slides out, and I place the food upon it. A pair of seats slides out after it, and I gesture for her to sit. “Eat.” I nod towards the woven Veronian package. It’s brightly colored, just like its makers.
She looks at me, then at the package, her eyes green and wide. Under our blue lights, her eyes appear green. In the light of that star called the Sun, they’re brown. I’ve never heard of eyes that can change color before.
She’s still wearing that shocked expression.
“What?” I growl, taking a bite of my protein mix.
“Pants,” she snaps, gesturing to the garment beside me. “Put them on.”
I shrug and pull on the trousers. If it makes her feel at ease, then fine. I could as easily draw out my exo-armor, but it doesn’t seem appropriate in this situation.
So my appearance offends her, and she’s surprised I haven’t been with a female before. I’m confused. What’s her problem? They say on Kythia that Kordolian females are complex creatures, but this Human would certainly be a match for them.
Females. I suspect I will never fully understand what goes on inside their heads.
Abbey
Thank Saturn he’s put his pants back on. I mean, I was enjoying the view and all, but it was becoming too damn overwhelming. And we’re about to eat. And he still doesn’t have a shirt on. I’m sitting opposite a shirtless General with magnificent abs. He’s chomping on one of those uninspiring meaty seaweed bars, and I’ve got a colorful package sitting in front of me.
I stare at it for a moment, trying to process what I’ve just learnt.
So let me get this straight. Before we made love in the pool, he was a virgin? And the admission doesn’t seem to have bothered him at all. Most Human guys would be getting a bit awkward right about now.
It doesn’t add up.
He takes another bite of his food, looking at me with a calm, scrutinizing gaze. It’s as if he wants to gauge my reaction to this strange little package.
“So I’m your first?” I still don’t quite get it. He seemed to know his way around the female body all too well. He was confident as hell; he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Yes.”
“Oh.” I blink, trying to look for any clue that he’s messing with me. “So how did you know what to do, if you don’t mind me asking?” I run my fingers over the package. It’s covered in a wrapper made up of thousands of tiny, interwoven hexagons. The pattern is all kinds of colors; pinks, purples, blues, greens.
It’s exquisitely beautiful.
Tarak frowns. “Know what to do? Of course I know. We learn when we reach maturity. It’s a rite of passage for all males.”
“You get lessons?” My jaw drops. “Like an initiation of sorts?”
“There is a Sendar, a scholar of female pleasure. All males who reach maturity see the Sendar for training.” He takes another bite of the gelatinous brick, looking at me quizzically. “You Humans do not have something similar on Earth?”
“Not at all,” I reply. “So you’re telling me all Kordolian males have to learn this stuff? How to, uh, please a woman?”
“Of course. If the skill is not acquired, one has no hope of gaining a mate.”
“That bad, is it?” I fiddle with the multicolored package, trying to get it to open. “So I imagine the women also go through some sort of training.” I suddenly feel a little insecure. How would I compare to a Kordolian female?
Tarak laughs then, and it’s a surprisingly warm, rich sound. I’ve never heard him laugh before, let alone seen him smile. For a moment, he looks kind of adorable, his white fangs flashing in his dark mouth. “Why would a female need such lessons? They can take their pick of the males. Most end up with multiple mates.”
I try to digest that information. “Sounds like there’s an imbalance.”
“Only one in a hundred Kordolian males ever has hope of being selected as a mate.”
I dig my nails into the hexagon-patterned wrapper, trying to tear it open. But really, I’m trying to process what the General’s telling me. “That’s quite a serious shortage of ladies.”
Imagine women on Earth with that kind of power. With their own personal harem. I think we’d all go a little bit drunk with sexual power. What kind of life do these Kordolian females lead?
Shit. I’ve just been transported to a planet of horny, silver-skinned alien males who happen to be tutored in the art of pleasure.
What’s a girl not to like?
Apart from the fact that some of them seem to want to take my organs. For science.
Fuck that. Hands off the ovaries, bitches.
Tarak takes the package from me, a flicker of annoyance crossing his elegant features. “If you do not know how to do it, just ask.” He presses something on the side, and the little hexagons all seem to fold into themselves, sliding off the package, forming a tight little ball.
Before I can protest, he tosses the thing into a little garbage chute. I would have kept it. It seemed too beautiful to throw away.
He slides it back across to me. It’s a box with a transparent lid.
“There have been no females born on our planet for the last hundred orbits. And it’s common knowledge that a female cannot become pregnant if she does not climax. So we try our best to make conditions right, but there hasn’t been any success yet.” He shrugs. “Maybe it’s just the way of things. Perhaps it’s a sign from the Goddess that we are not meant to survive another era.”
“That’s a bit fatalistic, isn’t it, General?”
“Eat your food, Abbey.” He ignores the question, gesturing towards the box.
I look down and see neat rows of little squares.
Sweets of some sort? They’re like little chocolates or something, but each square is different, covered in some kind of design.
I look more closely and realize some of the squares are transparent. There are tiny glittering specks inside. The specks look like stars, and they’re interspersed with colorful nebulas. The other squares are solid, etched with pictures of distant planets.
They’re miniature works of art. “Is this really food?”
“Try one.”
I pick up one of the squares, take a deep breath and pop it in my mouth. I’m starving again. I don’t know what this stuff is, or whether it’s even good for Humans, but I don’t really have any choice. I can’t afford to waste away here. Especially if I’m going to have to figure out how to escape.
An explosion happens. It’s a burst of pure flavor, complex and sweet.
It’s like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. I
can’t equate it to anything I’ve had on Earth.
It’s fruity, I guess. A bit like a combination of lychee and mango and pineapple. But those things don’t even compare. It’s as if those crazy minuscule nebulas I saw inside it are blossoming on my tongue.
Surely something that tastes this good can’t be bad for me. I hate to say it, but it’s as good as chocolate. Maybe even better. No way. That last thought makes me feel like a traitor to my own species.
Tarak’s watching my reaction carefully. He seems rather pleased with himself.
“What is this stuff?” I ask in wonder.
“Veronian food.” As if that explains everything. He finishes the last of his protein bar thing and taps a panel on the wall. Moments later, two steaming cups of some sort of drink appear in the hatch. He passes one across to me. “Drink.”
I sniff the stuff cautiously. Smells okay, if a little bitter. I sip. It’s pungent and herbal, but the distinct flavor contrasts nicely with the sweetness of the cubes.
I’m contemplating these culinary wonders and pondering the nature of a race that’s overwhelmingly male and generally unfriendly towards every other species in the universe when a sharp beeping sound fills the room. Tarak’s on his feet in an instant and he’s armoring up, the black nanites appearing all over his skin like tiny liquid droplets. They coalesce and form the hardened outer exo-suit I’m familiar with.
The dress trousers he’s so graciously put on start to tear at the seams.
“Into the sleeping pod with you,” he snaps, taking my food and the cup of bitter tea. “I have visitors. Do not come out.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he holds up a hand. That little vein on the side of his temple is twitching again. “Do not argue this time, female. You have had enough danger already.”
“Fine,” I sigh, not looking forward to being locked up in that little room again, but feeling as if I have no choice. I don’t want to be at the centre of a shitfight in the General’s quarters.
I follow him through, and he places my food on a little table beside the bed-pod thing.
