Candidate (Selected Book 4)

by Robin Roseau

  It was quite impressive.

  Still, it took time. It was a long trip from the lander bay to the cells. And then inside each cell, we verified again. After that, we unpackaged the woman, but the chair could be controlled to gently slide her onto her bed.

  Each of the women was naked; I remember waking up naked and not liking that. I mentioned that to Jasmine.

  "It's not easy to dress an unconscious body," she said. "And would you want strangers fondling your body?"

  "It wouldn't be fondling," I suggested.

  "Would you?"

  "No, probably not. You could give them blankets."

  "That's not happening, either," she said. "But I can take your clothes from you while we do the rest of this."

  "Bully."

  "That's right. Now, arrange her more comfortably. She's going to get a stiff neck like that."

  When the women were taken from their homes, they were wearing different clothes. Their clothes came with them, but if it was street clothes, we took them, noting who had something reasonable -- that was Jasmine's word, not mine -- and who didn't. "We delivery a change in the morning if they need one," she explained. "We didn't use to do it this way. So some women came wearing almost nothing and some came dressed for their day. Now we're a little more egalatarian."

  "Right. That's the word I was thinking of."

  "Was that sarcasm, Mating Candidate?"

  "Of course not, Bully Administrator Brighteyes," I said cheerfully. "I'm only making conversation."

  In the end, we made fourteen or fifteen trips, getting each woman settled in for the night. When we were done, Jasmine and I walked up and down each cellblock, checking the women through the glass. A few times we stepped in and adjusted their position. "She's sleeping on her arm," or "her pajamas are bunched around her neck."

  I was actually surprised by the care. I wondered if it was a show for me, but I didn't ask.

  Finally she turned me to her. "We're done. You don't have a date tonight."

  "Dark Skies kept it clear."

  "Would you like to share a meal with me?"

  "That depends."

  "Oh?"

  "Do I get a proper hug?"

  She smiled. "Is that a requirement?"

  "Maybe a strong request."

  "Very good. Return to your cell and change clothes. I'll send the guards for you."

  "Seriously?"

  "Mating candidate," she added.

  "You let me wander around all day, but you're going to put the guards through that? They're tired and want to go home."

  "And they'll be able to do so."

  "Do I have time for a shower?"

  "Yes, if you're quick."

  "I'll taste better."

  She smiled. "See you soon."

  * * * *

  When I got back from the showers, there were undies and a camisole waiting, but a message appeared telling me I could wear the robe, too.

  The guards appeared about thirty seconds after I pulled the clothes on, so I was sure they'd been waiting.

  "You," said one.

  "You know," I said. "We have never exchanged names." I stepped forward and held out a hand. "Andromeda Hayes."

  "We're not supposed to give our names to mating candidates," said the woman. "You'll have to catch us when you're an event technician."

  I laughed. "Right. Got it. I'll call you Dilly and her Dolly."

  "I want to be Dilly," said Dolly.

  "Fine. You can be Dilly."

  "There's no way I'm answering to Dolly."

  "How about Bar? Dilly and Bar? No?" I said. "You don't want to be named after Dolly Madison?"

  "Call her Eeyore," said Dilly.

  "You know I'm going to be stuck with these names in my head instead of your real ones."

  "Call me Natalie," said Dolly. "After one of the guards from Orange is the New Black."

  "I'm not going to remember that," I complained.

  "Then call her Piper," said Dilly. "We're practically inmates ourselves."

  "Piper it is," I said. "Who gets to cuff me today?"

  "Dilly does," said Piper. "She loves cuffing the girls."

  So I held my wrists out to Dilly and she did, indeed, cuff them.

  * * * *

  I rubbed my wrists, still unable to see. But then Dilly -- or maybe it was Piper -- insisted on pulling my robe from my shoulders.

  "Get your own," I muttered.

  "Let her take the robe, Andromeda," said Jasmine.

  "Fine," I said. "But seriously, don't you pay them enough to buy their own bathrobes?"

  Neither Dilly nor Piper commented, but then they were gone, and a moment later, the visor brightened.

  Jasmine stood before me, but I frowned immediately.

  "Whip 'em out," I said. "That was the agreement."

  A moment later her tentacles emerged. "Gayle freaks out when she sees them."

  "Gail?"

  "The guard who took your robe."

  "Oh. Right. That was probably Piper."

  "Piper."

  "Or maybe Dilly. I lost track of who was on which side."

  "Do I care what you're babbling about?"

  "Probably not." I stepped towards her. "I'm food deprived and incoherent from weakness. It might be heatstroke. I think you should send me back to Minnesota to recover."

  "Or just keep you out of the sun."

  "That works. Aren't the challenges all outside?"

  She snuffled, but I stepped closer, and she wrapped around me, her tentacles sliding inside the camisole to envelop me rather thoroughly. We hugged for a minute or two before releasing.

  The Catseye liked long hugs.

  Then she led me to her living room. We sat on opposite sides of the sofa, turned to face each other. "Food will arrive shortly. Are you really food-deprived?"

  "No. I'm just a little wired. I didn't get my exercise today."

  "Pushing other mating candidates around didn't take the edge off?"

  "Naw, I barely touched the chairs. I let my partner do all the work."

  She laughed. "You're in a playful mood."

  "Please don't do anything to ruin it if you can at all avoid it."

  "Now, why would I ruin your mood?"

  "Psychological games," I said. "You seem to enjoy them. Why the dinner invitation, Jasmine?"

  "Do you suspect a game?"

  "I wouldn't put it past you," I said. "But no. I'm just curious."

  "I wanted to since you arrived," she said. "But I wasn't ready to let you see the tentacles. And then we've been busy. This was our first opportunity."

  "It feels weird. We've been scrambling for days, and tomorrow we'll be scrambling again. But tonight we have this moment of calm. Or do you have more work to do?"

  "No. Tonight is exactly as you say, a moment of calm."

  "I have another question, and I hope you'll answer honestly. Was what you said about the aliens wanting to see me naked just a line?"

  She didn't answer right away. "It wasn't you specifically, although there are probably a few that are pleased it's to be you. No, it wasn't a line. Next question?"

  "Is this just dinner, or am I invited to stay a while after?"

  "You're invited to stay."

  "Do you have an activity planned?"

  "We can talk, or we can invite two more to join us for a game. Don't worry. The game I have in mind is harmless. I'm not setting you up."

  "Either sounds fine," I said. I leaned back and closed my eyes. "If I don't have to, I don't want to pick tonight."

  "Tired?"

  "Wired and fried, and I want to let my brain slow down."

  "Maybe teaching you a new game is a poor idea."

  "It's fine. Whatever you want, Jasmine."

  "Whatever I want?"

  "Oh, did I say more than I intended?" I opened my eyes and smiled. "Whatever you want."

  "Then give me your feet," she said.

  Puzzled, I lifted them towards her. She set them in her lap, which
involved pulling me a little closer, so I lay down on the sofa. And she began to massage.

  "Really?" I said. "This is what you want to do? Not that I'm complaining. Oh, that feels nice."

  "Humans have interesting feet," she replied. "They all have the same basic structure, but they can be so different at the same time."

  I let her massage for a while. It really did feel nice. I wondered what she was doing though. I wondered if she'd answer if I asked.

  I didn't ask. I didn't want her to lie to me.

  But then she announced, "Dinner is here."

  I opened my eyes. "That felt divine. Thank you."

  "You're welcome. If you go sit, I'll bring the food in."

  Five minutes later found us both seated at adjacent portions of the table. The platters of food were covered, but it smelled good. I had a standard place setting. She had a couple of bowls each with two handles plus a fork.

  "It is traditional in a Catseye household to do this in a particular way," she said. "We lift the covers at the same time, and then we stow them below the table."

  "There are three platters."

  "I am capable of handling more than one."

  I laughed. "I suppose you are." I put my hand on the handle of the nearest lid. "Is there a signal?"

  "Yes. As head of household, I make a subtle gesture. Each family has its own. This is what I do. Watch my tentacle." Then the tip tapped the top of the lid. I lifted my cover, and she lifted hers.

  "Easy enough," I said. I ducked under the table and found a place for the lid. I thought that was clever.

  "The other difference from how humans serve is that we pass our bowls, not the platters. The bowls are smaller and have less food, plus they have convenient handles." She picked up her small bowl and handed it to me. "I would like a medium scoop of the potatoes, please."

  I dished her bowl, looking at her to ensure we had the same idea of what a medium scoop meant.

  "Now hand me your plate," she directed. So I did, and then she lifted a fork.

  "A modest piece of the chicken, please," I said. "And beets. I love beets, but start modestly please."

  "Of course." She dished me and handed the plate back. "And then we finish serving ourselves."

  A moment later we were ready.

  "If the way I eat disturbs you, I can be subtle."

  "Do you intend to smear it all over my body and lick it off?"

  She laughed. "No." She picked up her fork, stabbed a piece of potato, and then transferred it to a waiting tentacle. The tentacle wrapped around it. When she opened, it was gone.

  "Huh," I said. "I wouldn't have guessed that."

  Then she dipped the end into her water glass. For that, she made a distinctive slurping sound, like someone sucking too hard on a straw.

  "I wouldn't have guessed that, either," I said. And then I took a bite of my own potatoes.

  I chewed and swallowed, then gestured with my fork. "That looks convenient. You can talk while you eat. It's rude if I do the same. Tell me something about yourself, Jasmine."

  "Like what?"

  "Oh, anything. You know everything about me, and I know almost nothing about you."

  A moment later, my visor pinged at me that I had a new file from Jasmine. I opened it, and it was her bio.

  "Not like that," I said. "Don't you know how to talk about yourself?"

  "Not really, no."

  "Fine," I said. "Let's start with something simple. How old are you?"

  "You first."

  I laughed. "Fine. My name is Andromeda Hayes. Most people call me Andie, but when I'm in trouble, my mom calls me Andromeda. People also call me Andromeda when I'm feeling passive/aggressive and vulnerable and want to make them work."

  She laughed. "That's very interesting, Andromeda." She accented my name. "What else can you tell me?"

  "Well, I'm 34, the single daughter of a really good mom and dad. They were college sweethearts and never lost that love. Your turn."

  She looked at me carefully. "All right. Care to play a guessing game?"

  "Sure. What are we playing for?"

  "You can have your bathrobe back."

  "Hmm. So you are Administrator Brighteyes, and I am Mating Candidate Hayes? Or are you Jasmine, and I'm Andie?"

  "Did you just give me permission?"

  "Not yet."

  "All right," she replied. "If I win, then I may call you Andie."

  "Only when we're being friends, not when I'm the employee or mating candidate. What am I offered?"

  "You liked the foot massage. How about a back massage?"

  "Now you're talking," I said. "What's the game?"

  "I will ask you a question about myself and you will try to guess."

  "So, you'll say age, and I'll say 17, but you're 18, so I'm wrong."

  "How about within ten percent?"

  "Twenty."

  "Fifteen."

  "Agreed. How many points are we playing to?"

  "Five."

  "Perfect." I speared some chicken and chewed. "Age?"

  "Age."

  "We're not counting time dilation from interstellar travel or something? If you spent five hundred years in cryosleep or something like that, it doesn't count."

  "Right."

  "If you were human, from your appearance, I'd place you younger than I am. But you have access to super duper magic healthcare, and you carry yourself a lot closer to how Gerri does than my friends do."

  She looked at me enigmatically, all the while slurping at her food.

  I studied her. "There's no way you're as young as your appearance suggests."

  "Because of my bearing?"

  "And the amount of responsibility you have, and any guesses I'd make based on appearance assume human medical care and beauty cream. I bet you have some amazing beauty cream."

  "So, you still have to guess."

  "Gerri's age. 64."

  "Your logic is good," she said. "Catseye mature early but then we hold our appearance for decades. It can be difficult to tell mothers and daughters apart, and sometimes grandmothers and granddaughters."

  "So how did I do?"

  "You're high, but I will accept the compliment you offered in comparing me to someone I believe you admire."

  "How old?"

  "47, as my body feels it."

  "Did you do cryosleep or something for your trip here?"

  "No. But there are time dilation effects from traveling at near relativistic speeds."

  "Slower than light, but very fast."

  "Right."

  "How much if we skip that?"

  "Just a few years. Point to me."

  "All right. Next."

  "When I was younger and in the age where Catseye might be rebellious, was I more or less rebellious than average?"

  I ate for a minute, considering the question. I decided I could go around in circles, so I had a fifty-fifty chance of guessing accurately. "More."

  "The score is tied," she said. "To be fair, Catseye adolescents are quite restrained in their rebellion compared to a human of a similar age. I have a sister. Am I oldest or youngest?"

  "Oldest. You're way too bossy to have had an older sister."

  She laughed. "I'm compensating," she said. "I was youngest. Who is a better swimmer, you or me?"

  I eyed the tentacles. "I bet you swim like a fish."

  "Is that your answer?"

  "Yeah."

  "You would be wrong. Catseye can't swim. We sink. Most of us are intimidated by water deeper than our waist."

  "Three to one," I said. "Two more and you get to use my name."

  "I have never been mated and have no children. But if I were to become mated, and my mate and I were to have children, which of us do you believe would carry the first child?"

  "She would."

  "Reason?"

  "No way would you want to be fat and waddling around. It would slow you down."

  "Well, you won the point, but your reason is wrong. I would want to be th
e one taking care of her, not having to be taken care of. I'm uncomfortable being taken care of."

  "All right," I said. "I can see that."

  "Have I performed any of the challenges?"

  "In one of the arenas?" I asked. "And not counting practice runs to test them and things like that?"

  "With a mating candidate."

  "I thought Catseye didn't do that."

  "So you're guessing never?"

  "How close do I have to get?"

  "If the answer is 2 or less, you must be right on. After that, accurate to within a third."

  I sipped from my water. "Any hints?"

  "Nope."

  "Never."

  "Reasoning?"

  "Because you play to win. If you were in challenges with a mating candidate, you would be mated now."

  "Maybe I won the challenges, and she gave me my three months and decided she hated me."

  "Yeah, I don't think so. Zero."

  "Once. It was soon after I got here, and there was a woman who felt how you and I do about males." I smiled at that. "I told her if she beat me, I'd let her go. If I beat her, she had to select from a willing mate. She kicked my ass. And then I got yelled at besides. I haven't done it since."

  "Wait. Was the Loris working here yet?"

  She laughed. "No."

  "Pick something good for the next one," I said. "I like this game."

  "All right. What do you think is my greatest personal fear?"

  "Failure."

  "Oh, point to you. Were my mothers supportive when I declared I wished to join this mission?"

  "It's a one-way mission, isn't it?"

  "Most probably, but who knows what will happen a few decades from now?"

  "And they aren't here with you."

  "No, they are not."

  "Then no. They didn't want you to go. What mother would want to never see her daughter again?"

  "They didn't like that part, but they were very supportive. The mission needed people like me, and I was raised to do my duty." She smiled. "How's your dinner, Andie?"

  "Quite good, thank you," I said. I returned her smile. "You know, you're easy to please."

  "Oh?"

  "Yes. You look like the cat who ate the canary, and I was going to ask you to call me Andie, anyway. Instead of giving it away, I learned a few things about you. I consider it a good trade."