by Jack Doe
"How long _what_ will take?" Bryce asked, the pitch of his voice elevated.
Anul'thek made a face, wishing Bryce hadn't asked. He sighed. "How long it will take before I have you inside of me," he admitted, closing his eyes as the translators' laughter deafened him momentarily. Fortunately, he was needing them less and less; he was picking up on the nuances of the language himself. Maybe eventually he could turn them off and have a little privacy!
Bryce said nothing, just stared at his lap. Charles laughed again. "You had to ask," Anul'thek said wryly. In the back of his mind, he thought it interesting how the older generations were both having a laugh at the younger generations' expense.
"It's because their norms have rubbed off on you," Ing'ma said to him privately. "Their society's qualms about sex and your reluctance to make them uncomfortable have made you uncomfortable about sex. Don't worry; we'll get that straightened out when you get back."
"Thanks, Ing'ma," Anul'thek said wryly.
"Oh, and don't forget your boyfriend!" his mentor added.
Merciless, Anul'thek thought.
"So, Anul'thek," Charles asked, "You said that centaurs are very sexual." Anul'thek nodded. "Are there a lot of baby centaurs running around? How do you know which one belongs to whom?"
Anul'thek nodded again. "Yes, centaurs are very sexual," he said. "Baby centaurs are called foals, and they only happen when both sire—that's the male—and dam—that's the female—want to have a foal. Our scientists could explain it better," he said, "but there's something that changes in centaur bodies when they want offspring that allow it to happen. Since it only happens when desired, everybody knows who did it intentionally. Otherwise, we just have a good time." He grinned, and Charles nodded.
"There's something very important we need to discuss," Charles said after a moment. "Not everybody believes as we believe," he said to Anul'thek. "Most people believe the old stories that centaurs are violent, alcohol-crazed rapists." Anul'thek's face expressed dismay, but Charles held up a hand. "It gets worse," he said. "People would never believe that there's a centaur around here, but if any of them got pictures, they would take you away so fast, to a place you never thought existed," he said gravely. Anul'thek paled visibly. His concerns had been well-founded, he realized. The laughter from his people before was now chilled silence.
"We have to keep you hidden until we can figure out how to introduce you properly," Charles said. "You're welcome to stay here, although we might need to find a bigger place for you." Anul'thek nodded in thanks. "I don't know how much you know about humans," Charles continued, "but there are a lot of groups of us."
Anul'thek nodded. "Yes, we have noticed, and you fight each other a lot."
Charles nodded sadly.
"Don't your people fight?" Bryce asked.
Anul'thek shook his head. "I can't remember a time when my people fought each other," he said. He listened, and Ing'ma gave him a brief history lesson, which he relayed to the humans "Centaurs are very old," he said. "We first lived on Earth long before you did. We fought a lot during that time. We were new, and we didn't know how to live. Our old, old ancestors all thought they knew how to live, and they wanted other centaurs to follow them. Some centaurs followed one person, and others followed another. They became very hostile toward each other, and the longer the fight went on, the more hostile they became. Centaurs that used to be friends would attack each other, not based on any wrongdoing, but on blind hatred of each other's beliefs. Each side was so convinced that it was right and that all other sides must therefore be completely wrong that they almost annihilated each other. In the aftermath, none of the extremists were left. Only those who had tried to compromise survived, and centaurs from each of the sides came together and found some goodness in each other's ideas. They took the best of all the ideas and put them together. It wasn't perfect, but it was much better, and working together, they built the society we have today." He paused, unsure of whether to proceed, but Ing'ma told him it was all right.
"The last major change the centaurs had to our way of life was ten thousand years ago," he said.
Bryce's ears perked up. "That was..." he began.
"...when the centaurs left," Charles finished.
Anul'thek nodded.
"What were the changes?" Bryce asked hesitantly.
"Centaurs live by five maxims," Anul'thek said. Onboard the ship, every centaur recited along with him, for they had all learned the same maxims from birth:
We do not harm others if we can help it.
We all do our part during planting and harvesting.
Happiness comes from within.
More does not guarantee happiness; it only complicates your life.
Life is joyous.
The two humans frowned, thinking.
"Planting and harvesting?" Charles asked.
"Yes," Anul'thek replied. "We plant every year, and we harvest every year. Every stallion, mare, filly, and colt helps in some way. Stallions plow, and mares pull weeds. Fillies throw seeds, and colts water."
"That seems very rigid," Charles said questioningly. Anul'thek shrugged. "It was an example," he said. "Sometimes stallions pull weeds and mares plow. It's unusual for the foals to plow, although it has happened occasionally; it's hard work that usually takes adult centaurs."
"What's the difference in an adult and a foal?" Bryce piped up.
"The size is the obvious thing," Anul'thek said, "but the technical difference is that adults have had sex. For a mare, she must have been bred, either anally or vaginally. For a stallion, he has penetrated someone, male or female."
"What about a gay bottom?" Bryce protested.
Anul'thek bit his lip. "Like me," he said. Bryce opened his mouth to apologize, but Anul'thek shook his head. "I don't take offense," he said. "I will have to penetrate someone, sometime." He gave an embarrassed grin. "Yes, I'm still technically a colt." He paused, then added, "But I plow fields."
Charles chuckled. Bryce sat quietly a moment, and then asked, "what about the lesbian mares?"
Anul'thek shrugged helplessly. "Our society does not ask much of us, Bryce. A 'lesbian,' as you call it, must be bred once by a male to become a mare, just as I must penetrate someone once to be a stallion. It's not a rule that I understand, but it is one that I am willing to follow, because once I have done it, I will always be a stallion. I'm sure there are things you humans do that you don't like to do as a rite of passage, too, don't you?"
Bryce shook his head, but Charles said, "Yes, there are."
Bryce looked at him quizzically. "What?"
"You go to work," he said.
"I don't legally have to work to be an adult, though," Bryce said.
"That's true," Charles replied, "but look at how society treats 'adults' who do not work for themselves, who live off their parents."
Bryce had to agree with that. "At least for them," Charles said, gesturing to Anul'thek, "it's a one-time thing, and they're done. For us, it lasts decades."
Bryce had another question. "What's the benefit of being an adult?" he asked.
Anul'thek gave him a curious look. He'd never thought about it before; it just happened. "I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "I guess we just kind of expect that it will happen at some point." The centaurs on the ship were all scratching their heads, too. They really didn't know, either. Ing'ma offered a suggestion, which Anul'thek repeated. "Only adults can become mentors," he said.
"What does breeding have to do with mentoring?" Bryce challenged.
Anul'thek was stumped on this one, and so was Ing'ma. "That's a very good question," Anul'thek replied at length. "None of us knows. We might have to reevaluate that when we get home."
"And maybe reevaluate having to top or be topped while you're at it," Bryce suggested bluntly.
"Bryce!" Charles said apologetically.
"No, he's right," Anul'thek said. "None of my people seem to know why we do it like that. We're just used to 'it's always been that way,' and we've n
ever thought to question it. Rules like that aren't things we change on our own; we take it to court, and the population decides."
"You have court?" Charles asked.
"Yes, we have a court," Anul'thek said. "I don't know that it's much like your court, though, other than presentation of arguments. The 'jury,' if you will, is the entire centaur population. People present cases for differing views on an argument, and the populace rules on it. We used to do it once a year long before I was born, but we haven't had many changes since I've been alive. Maybe it's time to make some." He smiled.
"So," Bryce said, "getting back to the 'maxims,' what do you mean by 'more doesn't guarantee happiness' and 'it complicates your life'? I mean, if I like sex, for instance," he cast a sideways glance at Charles, who was unperturbed, "why wouldn't more sex be better?"
Anul'thek grinned. "I assure you, Bryce, there is such a thing as too much sex." He winced. "There is also such a thing as bad sex."
"Bad sex?" Bryce asked. Charles gave a knowing grin.
Anul'thek pursed his lips. "Bad sex is when you find yourself with someone, and neither of you is enjoying yourself. It ends up awkward." Charles nodded agreement.
"Oh," Bryce said.
"So, to turn the question around," Anul'thek said, "if you keep having awkward sex over and over, do you really want to have more of it?"
"I see your point," Bryce said, nodding.
"There's no guarantee that sex will make you happy, and as to complicating your life, a person you once were friendly with might now become someone you're hesitant to talk to; you now have to avoid that person, which adds complexity to your life." Anul'thek concluded, and Bryce nodded.
"What about not doing harm," Charles asked. "I assume you eat meat?"
Anul'thek nodded. "Those of us on the ship have had to do without for many years, but yes, we do."
"How is that not harmful to the things you eat?" Charles probed.
"The maxim is intended to apply towards each other," Anul'thek said. "We do not harm each other if we can help it. That said, we are not cruel to other beings. After all, we left Earth last time to avoid harming your people," he said with a hint of reproach.
"Careful, Anul'thek," Ing'ma warned. "Do not let your emotions get in the way."
"I'm sorry," Anul'thek said to the humans. "I did not mean to criticize."
Charles shook his head. "You're right, Anul'thek. We did screw that one up."
"But why did you go so far away?" Bryce asked. "Why did you stay away for so long?"
Anul'thek winced. "Our ancestors witnessed the same behavior all over the world, the gradual enslavement of our people. They hid for several centuries, but they were not happy, and that violated one of our maxims."
"That life is joyous," Charles chimed in.
"Yes," Anul'thek said, nodding. "They decided that was not the life they wanted to live, and so they left."
"Where did they go?" Bryce asked.
There was commotion on the centaurs' ship, but Anul'thek told Ing'ma he had it handled. Addressing the humans, Anul'thek shook his head. "I'm afraid I cannot tell you," he said. "If mankind were to find out where we lived, what's to stop them from enslaving us there?"
Bryce looked crestfallen.
"I'm sorry, Bryce," Anul'thek said, "but the most important task I have is keeping my people safe.
Bryce didn't look any happier, but he nodded understanding. Suddenly, he perked up.
"I have a question that you might be able to answer," he said.
"Yes, what is it?" Anul'thek asked, hoping to be helpful.
"What do you know about Stonehenge?"
Anul'thek gave him a blank stare. "I'm sorry, what is Stonehenge?"
"Show him a picture," Charles suggested.
Bryce took out his phone and pulled up a picture of the monument on it and showed it to Anul'thek.
"So that's what that thing is!" Anul'thek said, eagerly taking the phone and examining it. "What an interesting device!" He pressed a button on it, and the screen changed. The scientists aboard the ship were likewise taking in everything they could about the phone.
He touched the screen, and a gay dating app loaded. Anul'thek cocked his head. "What's this?"
Bryce looked at the screen, turned red, and hastily took back the phone, closing the app. "Some kind of communication device?" Anul'thek asked, not understanding Bryce's reaction.
"Um, yeah," Bryce said. "Phone, Internet, texting..."
"Internet?"
"Uh...a big network that lets everybody in the world talk to each other and send pictures and movies and music and files and stuff," Bryce said. Charles pursed his lips but didn't have anything to add.
The scientists on the ship said that it was a more sophisticated way to communicate than the centaurs used and lauded its creation.
Anul'thek nodded. "Our scientists like your creation," he said.
Bryce grinned. "It's very handy," he said. "You can get on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and–"
Anul'thek looked perplexed. "What are all of those?"
"Social media sites," Bryce replied. "You can post pictures and tell people what you think about stuff."
"Why would you want to do that?" Anul'thek asked.
"Why wouldn't you want to do that?" Bryce countered.
Anul'thek bit his lip. "I don't mean any offense," he said, "but if there was something I wanted to share, I would walk over and share it. Centaurs are very social, and we tend to gather near other centaurs we like."
"That's not so easily done for us," Charles chimed in. "We can sometimes live very far from people we know."
"That's very sad," Anul'thek said apologetically. "I'm sorry you have to be separated like that. Is it a war thing?"
Bryce and Charles shook their heads. "It's an opportunity thing," Charles said, "and a cultural thing. If someone wants to be a doctor, he has to go where there are people to teach him to be a doctor, and then he has to go be a doctor where doctors are needed."
"Gotta make ends meet," Bryce added.
"What do you mean, 'make ends meet?'" Anul'thek asked.
"Pay bills. Don't you have to pay bills?" Bryce asked.
"What are bills?"
Bryce raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I guess not!" He gave a puzzled look. "How do you pay for your food and housing and clothes and stuff?"
Anul'thek hesitated, trying to make sense of the terms being thrown at him. Finally, he responded slowly, "I'm not sure I completely understand your question, so I'll break it down. How do I pay for my food? As our maxim says, we all contribute. Come planting season, every centaur stops what he is doing and helps plant. As a result, it only takes two days to seed the whole planet. Everybody contributes, and come harvest time, everybody harvests."
"What if somebody tries to shirk the work?" Bryce asked.
"I'll get to that in a minute," Anul'thek replied. "How do I pay for housing? Centaurs don't have housing. We live outside."
"So how do you know which land is yours and which belongs to your neighbors?" Bryce interrupted.
"What difference does it make?" Anul'thek asked. "My land, my neighbor's land...it's all good for eating from because we all planted it. It's all lush and green because we all take care of it. Come planting time, we plant wherever we are. Come harvest time, we harvest wherever we are. We move around. Why be tied to a house if we can have the whole world to live in?"
Charles whistled appreciatively. "What a way to live!"
"Wait, wait," Bryce said, shaking his head. "What about places where people don't want to live, places where it's cold or hot or whatever?"
Anul'thek considered the question. "We don't have quite the variation in temperature or terrain that you have. My planet is much more uniform. We have some mountains, and some centaurs like to go there occasionally. We don't really have any deserts. There are very few places that you could call inhospitable. Our scientists have spent many years trying to make them hospitable."
"You've mentioned scientists and translators and stuff," Charles interjected, "how does one become a scientist or translator? What do you have to do to become one? Do you go to school or something?"
Anul'thek rubbed his back hoof on the floor. "That's kind of a long story," he said. The two humans exchanged glances, and Charles replied, "Go ahead."
Anul'thek took a breath. "As I said, centaurs are very sexual. When they decide to have a foal and the foal is born, the parents help take care of it, but it becomes the joy of the whole community. We all teach him or her what he or she needs to know to be a centaur. At any point, a foal can ask to choose a mentor." He reflected fondly on the day he chose Ing'ma as his mentor. "If the mentor accepts the foal, which he usually will unless he has too many pupils already, –"
