by Amanda Milo
But we forced ourselves to be quiet again. We restrained our urges to tear at each other and cry out our pleasure. I’m leaning more against the door than her body, blocking her against it and stroking my claws carefully behind the sensitive backs of her ears. I make sure to drag my touch down the silky spot at her nape, massaging the smooth skin that covers her small, dorsal-tubeless back.
I stroke down her arm, encountering a bandage from where Skynan has been donating small amounts of lifeforce. We treat it as a mixture, separating it and analyzing the compounds to further our Lʊʊnjaɠ studies.
“What’s that beeping?” Nancy pants.
“What beeping?” I try to say, but my words are barely understandable, because I have a mouthful of Nancy’s breast. I’ve been bent over her, gently sucking on her, enjoying the way her body shivers harder through her reactions to my spendpods with my mouth loving her like this. Honestly, I’m not really hearing much of anything behind her labored breathing. I lick her nipple before releasing her, spinning her, pinning her against the door with the intent to mount her this way.
I grasp Nancy by the hips, lifting her until she’s on her toes, and bending my knees to adjust our heights while she braces her hands against the door and throws me the most lascivious grin over her shoulder.
“Erreck, I apologize if I’m disrupting…”
Nancy and I both freeze, confused as Simmi’s voice washes over us. Then I realize he’s contacting me via holovid. Thank the galaxy, the accompanying image viewer is turned off—something Simmi is controlling on his end, because otherwise I didn’t think to alter the viewer setting for privacy. Prior to Nancy’s arrival, I’ve never needed it.
“But I have incredible news.” Despite the excitement his words seem crafted to evoke, his tone is heavy and infused with secret meaning. “Leaders from the Lʊʊnjaɠ Institute and Clinical Center are here to congratulate us on our startling breakthrough in treatment research for infants. They arrived late, but they’re not going to hold off until the daycycle to discuss these matters of import with you.” Simmi’s voice takes on a more guarded tone, as if perhaps someone has neared him enough to thoroughly overhear his transmission to me and Nancy. “They can’t wait to meet you and begin your transfer—oh dear, how could I slip? The director wanted the honor of bestowing this surprise. Erreck: we’re about to be transferred to new dorms in new sectors so we can continue our success, now with larger teams.” Simmi forces a chuckle. “I already asked, but it sounds as if it would be difficult for us to keep a companion animal with our new mandated schedule.”
Simmi is warning me that change has descended.
Simmi is warning me that it would be difficult for me to keep Nancy if I try to stay long enough for changes to be instituted.
“Simmi…” I start, but my voice cracks with emotion.
Nancy’s fingers squeeze my sides where she’s still holding me. It’s silently reassuring. I gaze into her face, which suddenly looks as gutted as I feel. To Simmi, I try again to speak. “We… I thought we’d have more time.”
Simmi’s voice sounds heavy too, but he forces joviality—convincing no one, surely, but he tries. “Yes, well, there’s no time to waste now. Things are about to happen very quickly. I expect a team of dorm inspectors at your door soon to be sure your dwelling is in order before your transfer. Best tidy up before they arrive,” he finishes, his voice failing him. “I suppose… I suppose I should let you go so you can go about your preparations.”
“Oh, Simmi…” I say, clutching Nancy, who has wrapped her arms around my ribs tightly. “Thank you, my friend.”
Nancy presses her mouth against my carapace, and when that doesn’t muffle the sad sounds she’s making, she pulls back enough to cover her face with her hands.
I add a hand over hers too because she’s loud enough Simmi hears her—which means whoever is with him can hear the odd noise too. “Sounds like you’re already moving things around and getting ready,” Simmi offers to cover for us.
“There’s so much I want to say,” I tell him.
Simmi clears his throat. “Me too, Erreck… and… Skynan knows,” he says, making Nancy’s Genneӝt-given name sound like an idiom used to stress something is true, masking that he’s addressing her in code, “I… appreciate your friendship. It’s surprising, but I’ve come to treasure it.”
Nancy makes a rough sound behind our hands, still staying as muffled as she can.
Simmi’s next words sound like he’s smiling and speaking through his teeth. “Time to go, Erreck! They’re leaving now so they can escort you. They want to get started immediately, you understand. Best be ready to leave. Good—” Simmi sounds like he turns to cough, and his voice is rough when he returns. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Simmi,” I whisper.
The transmission beeps and then goes silent.
EPILOGUE
I am ErreckMXL7-GeneStatus: CARRIER.
Carrier.
It could be worse—much worse. Opportunities for housing, food, careers, a mate—it could all be limited merely due to my designation. Upon learning that I carry a copy of an unfortunate genetic disease, beings could allow my status to dictate how they interact with me for the rest of my future.
But Nancy’s people are not like my people.
They accept us.
They accept me.
The freedom from the sting of my designation is an unexpected... relief.
Thanks to Simmi’s warning, Nancy and I managed to escape in time. I left my meager belongings, which mostly consisted of extravagance food and a few small personal effects. To my surprise, Nancy was the one to race around my dorm, gathering all she could of my things (and the last scrumptious brick of ğurk) in her back pouch before we crept out the door.
I was stymied as to how we would access the woods where her ship was hidden without being seen by the officials invading Simmi’s and my laboratory, but Nancy assured me her ship could discreetly come to us.
That’s precisely what it did.
She called it, and it arrived silently, swiftly, and cloaked.
Being that it was so late in the darkcycle, the street was empty as we boarded it. Nancy set the coordinates for her home planet. As we sat side-by-side during takeoff, I tried to alleviate my nerves by making inane conversation. I lamented the lack of my sleeping pad, and Nancy took my hand, smiling at me softly, with understanding. She assured me that her bed was large enough for the both of us, and she teased that it was far superior in comfort. She also assured me that we would obtain anti-microbial covers for all the furniture (of which, she personally owns more than two pieces; they are also not on loan from any department). She’d added proudly that these covers even keep out a parasite called a dust mite.
I will admit that this was the point where I began to grow concerned. If Simmi had heard that Nancy’s furniture harbored microscopic mites, he’d have marched Nancy into a mizzling stall and drowned her there. He’d likely incinerate any hardgoods she owned thereafter, just to be safe.
I, on the other hand, attempted to think more rationally. Was I concerned by the idea that microscopic arachnid-like mites infested human bedding and relaxation furniture to the point that anti-parasite covers were a necessary invention? Yes. But despite the terror I faced at this news, I was determined to go wherever my Nancy went. And I did.
She’s my love. I can face anything as long as she’s beside me.
We worry about Simmi, and I regret that I wasn’t able to provide closure for my family, but we take heart that Simmi will in no way be held culpable for my mysterious disappearance. Not when officials overheard him speaking to me, proving I was alive and well just before they attempted my collection. They won’t expect him to know why or how I left. My family will be baffled, but after being warmly, wonderfully welcomed by Nancy’s family, I’ve come to understand that mine… well, they’ll continue on without me, and it will cause them very little discomfort. In contrast, Nancy’s family was quite worried when sh
e temporarily lost contact with them. They’re beyond grateful to have her back.
And they’ve adopted me with literal, open arms. All of Nancy’s people are as welcoming as she said they’d be. Aliens are common here (and among so many humans, I am considered an alien lifeform). Due to my stature and what Nancy explains is my fierce mien (a claim that surprises me to no end), the peoples on Nancy’s planet initially treated me with wary respect. Soon enough, their regard warmed to easy acceptance. Nobody suggested that our genetic makeups be investigated when we announced our intention to marry. Instead, they threw us a great party, inviting hordes of people, and making delectable foods of all kinds. They made me a custom-sized suit, which sparked my interest in wearing garments like humans do. I almost always wear a shirt now, because it makes me feel more professional. (Which makes Nancy snicker, because in her people’s culture, it is considered quite relaxed if one doesn’t accompany their shirt with the nearly-requisite pants.)
Nancy’s work often takes her to other planets, and I tag along for the ride. She studies and grows plants in all sorts of environments, and it is a vocation I soon share and take to with enjoyment.
We still work on raising varieties of the Morsuflos, and thanks to Nancy storing the Genneӝt-version seeds in her back pouch, we’re growing the more potent version of the Morsuflos from my planet. Many locales in the galaxy have peoples with motor disorders, and our hope is to help get them treatment.
“Erreck?” Nancy calls, tugging me from my musings. My cardiac muscle leaps with joy at the mere sound of her voice.
“Yes, my beloved nugget?” I answer back.
Nancy laughs. “We talked about this! Not nugget. Never nugget!” She moves in behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “The parents are here.”
“Mom and Dad are here?” I ask, pleased. When Nancy’s parents insisted that I, their adopted son-by-law, start calling them by their informal parental titles, I was greatly affected in the emotional sense.
“Yep,” Nancy says, a smile evident in her voice. “Dad thinks him and Mom finally worked out the recipe for ğurk.”
“Truly?” I breathe, too excited to hope.
Nancy’s arms squeeze tight before she leans around to look up at me, keeping her hand braced at my hip. “I told them you’d taste test the batch.”
I spin, taking her with me. “And I will! Let’s not wait; it’s best served chilled, you know.”
“I know. They’ve got it on dry ice.”
I pause, angling my chin down until it touches my neck so that I can catch her eyes. “What’s ‘dry ice?’”
Nancy grins. “Wait ‘til you see! You are so much fun. Everything is so new to you. When nothing surprises you anymore, we’re going to have to abduct Simmi so we can have fun shocking him together.”
Nancy has been as distraught as me over our friend Simmi. We want him to be happy, and now, after living among humans, I want this for him too. Very much. I give her a smile. “I’m on board with this plan.”
Nancy’s expression turns keen. “Really?”
Mom hollers, “What are you kids waiting for? This ğurk is best served cold, you know!”
I bend my knees, and without warning, I scoop up Nancy, who shrieks in surprise. “Coming, Mom!” I call over Nancy’s laughter.
The End ♥
BONUS DELETED PAGE
Because of the timing of events in Simmi’s story, this got cut, but I thought you might like a peek at a little note from Erreck & Nancy.
Many Daycycles Into the Future…
DEAR SIMMI,
Greetings from your good friends Erreck and Skynan! (Penned by Erreck because I can write in Genneӝt, but overseen by Skynan and sent with her approval.)
HI SIMMI!!!! ♥ *mentally touching your chair* XOXO
(^Above, you will see a note written by Skynan in her human language. I am slowly learning it, very slowly, but she wanted me to tell you her message is a special hello just for you. Ah, my mate is a generous soul.)
If all has gone smoothly, you’re heading a new position and adapting to a new work environment and office climate. I’m sure you’ve thoroughly disinfected and forcefully reorganized your coworkers’ stations by now.
We aren’t certain how we’ll get messages to you yet, but I’ve been writing them to you faithfully. We may decide to abandon the idea of delivering them and just collect you and take you with us. That would simplify things!
We are writing to you this daycycle with joyous tidings: we procreated! I had my sterilization reversed (what a delightful procedure)—
(I’m being entirely sarcastic)
—and Skynan birthed our beautiful son in what the locals call a state-of-the-art hospital. The establishment was nothing like the medical institution you and I are so familiar with. Simmi, there were so many healthy children. It was the happiest wing of a hospital I have ever seen, which was fitting, because it was the happiest day of my lifespan.
(Skynan is claiming now that it was her happiest day too. This is proof of mothering hormones at work because human birthing is not like Genneӝt birthing. Simmi? Fluids, agony, crying: it was a warzone, a battle with no enemy—just a hard-won victory at the end. My poor mate did not have an easy assignment. But as she does with everything, she did so wonderfully well.)
As you can imagine, it is with unspeakable relief that I can relay more good news: our son did not inherit Lʊʊnjaɠ. Our offspring is a Clear.
I… the freedom from anxiety whenever I think of his future as genetically Clear… well, you understand. You of all people can imagine what I feel when I imagine having grandprogeny who will never be assigned a genetic designation.
It’s wonderful. Everything is wonderful.
There’s only one thing we wish we could change: we miss you, Simmi. If we do not receive a response from you, we’ll make good on our threat to find a way to abduct you and bring you here with us.
With much affection,
Your dear friends Erreck, and Skynan, and progeny.**
(**Note: Our son is yet unnamed because we’ve not yet come to an agreement on what we shall call him. We aren’t arguing: we simply haven’t found a combination to suit him. It is traditional among Skynan’s people to give offspring two names (no case file numbers) and I proposed Umielt or Skaffultplarus. Skynan is attempting to find a traditional human name to pair with one of my name-suggestions.
In the geographical location we settled, the local aliens (especially humans) typically have three names, the last being an identifier of a family unit, and we need to settle on two names that fit well with our last name, Bjarnardóttir. I believe Skynan will choose Arthur; she continues to cycle back to this human-name. Then it will simply be a final decision on the order in which the two names are officially recorded. Perhaps if you are abducted in the near future, you can help us decide by casting your vote! Truly though: we wish you well, Simmi. We hope you’re happy.)
A Note to You:
SIMMI GETS HIS STORY?
Of course Simmi gets his story! :D ♥ You can find it riiiight here:
https://amzn.to/2VO5IaP
Happy Drive-by Book Trivia time!! =D This is where I slam you full of random tidbits & infobites you may or may not already know and you’ll probably never need--but sometimes it’s kinda entertaining to learn these things, so here we go!
I’m afraid to tell you where the idea for this story came from…
But let’s do it anyway, because trivia is fun. Especially the weird behind-the-scenes stuff! (I just hope you still think so once you’ve peeked behind the scenes…)
This all started because of Kelsey Nicole Price & her husband Matt introducing me to ThinkGeek.com (RIP, ThinkGeek) where I came across this super cute spoof of a children’s picture book, AN ALIEN NEXT DOOR: IN SPACE NO ONE CAN HEAR YOU CLEAN by Joey Spiotto.
Seriously. You have to see this! It’s so cute ;D https://amzn.to/2B7BFkX
Pretty solid fact: We were all traumatized by a certain ALIEN movie
franchise. Therefore, I just know I’m going to lose some of you right here. Because… okay, yes: a xenomorph-like creature was the inspiry for our hero and his people.
(**Emphasis on ‘inspiry!’ Our hero and his people aren’t dead ringers for the slavering, Pharyngeal jawed movie monsters… if that helps at all?)
But Waaait! XD Hear me out—isn't this like the ultimate Beauty and the Beast?
It totally fits the morale of the fairy tale! If you can fall in love with a creature like that then you can accept any kind of ugly. Erm, if you can see past the scary beast to the heart of gold beneath, then go you, you get yourself a sweet monster! (I’m pretty sure that’s how the fairy tale goes. If not, let’s only retell it in fun ways.)
ANYway, so this book, this children’s! picture! book! features a creature from our nightmares who suddenly becomes this humorous, relatable clean freak who keeps houseplants and walks his little facehugger and showers affection on his yellow tabby cat. It’s frickin’ adorable (even if, admittedly, it’s pretty damn twisted at the same time).
And so, *clears throat, tugs at collar* I was thinking: what if this terrifying-looking race of aliens was cultured, and super refined, and rigid, and borderline OCD about everything, and absolutely nonthreatening? What if they are terrified of us? And what if we look like freaky little beasts to these giant hulking monsters—yet one of these monsters is captivated by the alien, just as the hideous self-skinning beast is enchanted by our hero too?
Sheer morbid curiosity compelled me to see where the story would go. At first, my face was doing this in preparation: O_O
But it was really, really fun! I had a blast searching for enchanted roses and landed on the neatest flowers-with-teeth inspiry. I Pinterested the heck out of a bunch of artists who make delicate clay flowers with some fearsome fangs and teeth. (Totally cool.) I looked at a lot of real-life carnivorous plants, and went crazy planting bulbs and dahlia tubers this spring—claiming ‘research.’ (Pink Dr. Suess dahlias (no, I don’t know their real name, that’s just what we call them) and ‘carnival’ streaky dahlias (unfortunately, no idea on the real name for these either) became my absolute favorites. They’re gorgeous. Now we need to dig up the tubers and see if we can keep them safe over the winter, as our happy little sub-zero zone is apparently a nuh-uh climate for these beautiful flowers to survive perennially.)
