by Cara Bristol
“Do you have a special skill?” I asked.
“I used to be a good knife maker, but my duties as tribe leader and head of the council of Dakon don’t leave a lot of time for metalworking. Tell me about your job. What exactly does it consist of?”
“I’m called a coordinator, but that’s a fancy title for chaperone. I’m the contact between the women and the exchange program once they board the ship. I answer questions about your planet and the selection process, and oversee the transition. I see that they don’t wander off when they disembark.” I wagged my finger at him. “And, yes, I see the irony.”
“Oh?” His eyes glinted, and I felt myself warming to the humor in them. “I didn’t say a word,” he said.
“I didn’t get lost,” I reiterated. “The ship left me behind.”
“Do you have family who will worry about you?”
“Yeah. My mother, father, and brother will be concerned when I don’t show up. I hope”—I held up crossed fingers—“the exchange program will have the wherewithal to notify them about what happened.” Provided the powers that be knew what had happened. If my old translator had been recycled and reprogrammed, wouldn’t that erase the ID coding? As far as the SS Masquerade crew and computer were concerned, I had—poof—ceased to exist. Of course, I’d still be listed as an employee in the database, but the ice would melt on Dakon before somebody on the ship noticed I was missing and reported it. I had to get off this planet.
“But no female is waiting for you on Earth?”
Female? Uh, no. But I’d take that to mean significant other. “If I had someone, I wouldn’t be here. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You’re not mated.” A statement. I knew he wasn’t.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I haven’t been fortunate enough to draw a chit.” He sighed.
“You can’t use your position to…finesse the process a little?”
He looked shocked and affronted. “I would never do that. It would be neither honorable, nor honest.”
I’d blundered into another faux pas. Great going. Why not mention his horns again? Hurriedly, I backstroked. “I didn’t mean to imply you would, only that you might have an edge since you’re leader of your tribe and head of the council. Dakon has some women. On Earth, attractiveness, power, and money give a man an advantage when it comes to romance. A guy with two out of three can pretty much call the shots.”
“Not on Dakon. Leadership is a deterrent. Females assume a man’s time would be divided, and he would not attend to them as much as they would desire.”
“They’re idiots,” I said. Sometimes I couldn’t believe the stupidity of my own gender. They couldn’t see what stood in front of their own faces.
“Choosy. They can afford to be.” He bit off a piece of kel. After swallowing, he said, “This time, I felt certain I would get a female. To have someone to share my life, share my kels, have kits with, is worth more to me than anything. I’d trade my position or anything and everything I have for a mate.” He squeezed his hand into a fist. “I thought I had one this time. I was certain. I even added a room onto my hut in preparation.” He lifted his shoulders and let them fall in a dispirited shrug. “I didn’t draw a chit.”
He exhaled. “The disappointment has been…difficult.” His cocked his head as if listening to something, and then his eyes widened. “The whispers have stopped,” he murmured.
“Whispers?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Your friend at the ceremony—you and she seemed to be close.”
I nodded and gnawed on a macha biscuit. “Garnet. She’s my best friend. We were classmates. I’ll miss her when I return to Terra.”
“How old are you, Madison?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Older than I would have guessed.”
“Old? I’m not old!” I scowled. “What about you?”
His mouth twisted ruefully. “I’m thirty-seven solar rotations—and I didn’t mean to imply you’re old. Just the opposite. Given your level of responsibility with the exchange program, I would have placed your age at twenty-four or twenty-five rotations, although you appear about eighteen or nineteen.”
So I seemed immature, a wet-behind-the-ears kid.
I’d show him what a kid I was. I grabbed my tankard, and, like an adult, took a long pull of alien brewski.
“You and Garnet never considered mating?”
I spit ale all over the kel covers. “No, she’s my friend,” I choked. “We’re close—like sisters—I mean brother and sister. I don’t think of her in a romantic way.” Garnet and I got along so great we used to joke that if we had been gay or bi, we would have married each other. However, both of us were exclusively into dudes.
“Why not? She was quite comely, as I recall. She had curves in all the right places. A friendship can be the start of a successful mating.”
So he considered Garnet attractive, huh? He’d noticed her curves, had he? What was I, chopped kel liver? The food and ale curdled in my stomach. I’d accepted I wasn’t voluptuous like Garnet, and the slight curves I did have I’d hidden because I was pretending to be a man, and Garnet had never so much as glanced in Enoki’s direction, so my jealousy came flying out of left field. “For one thing—she has a mate now, if you remember. Kall-Kull-something.”
“Kellian.” He nodded. “He’s a member of my tribe.”
So Garnet would be in Enoki’s tribe where he could admire her attractiveness and curves. I gulped more noxious ale. I belched and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand like a guy. “You said men and women on your planet didn’t become friends.” I recalled the conversation we’d had in the lodge.
“I’d said friendship was rare because the need to save our species makes mating a priority. Friendship between mated pairs occurs afterward, but for those few who are fortunate to become friends first, the bond is doubly strengthened.”
He took a swig of ale. “I would like to have a friend.” He sounded almost wistful.
“You don’t have friends?”
“Ardu, healer for my tribe, is the closet to a friend, but I must maintain a distance because I am the tribe leader, and I can’t allow friendship to influence my judgment—nor allow a perception of favoritism to develop.
“I’ll be your friend,” I said quickly. “I still have to go home, but for as long as I’m here—”
“I would like that,” he said.
Way to go. I was with a hot, handsome alien rescuer lookin’ for love who would have welcomed any woman, and if my stupid disguise wasn’t enough, I’d voluntarily assigned myself to the friend zone. Maybe I should apply to the exchange program or another service matching Earth girls with aliens because obviously I needed help finding romance. Whose stupid idea was it to pretend to be a man anyway?
Oh, yeah. Mine.
So, why persist with it? Why not confess?
Because…because…no matter how sexy and honorable Enoki was, I intended to go back to Earth. I needed a shield to ensure I stuck to my plan and didn’t leave any broken hearts behind. Mine or his.
Enoki finished his tankard and poured himself another. He held up the jug. “More?”
From where I sat, my half-full tankard looked woefully half-empty. “Sure. Why not?” Maybe more alcohol would bring me back to a happy place. “Fill ’er up.”
I took a big gulp and tried not to scrunch up my face. No need to add rudeness to my list of etiquette violations.
“Are you finished? Would you like more to eat?” Not only was he hot, he waited on me hand and foot. If he treated a dude this way, imagine how he’d treat a woman he cared about.
Better not to think of that. “No, I’ve had enough. Thank you.” The smoked kel and dried fruit hadn’t been as bad as I’d feared. Not like the ale. I lifted the tankard and took another drink. With the illuvian heater blasting away, I was sweating. I pushed the kel covering to my waist and c
rossed my arms over my chest.
“Too hot?” he asked.
“A little.”
“What a relief.” He grinned. “I was starting to roast.” He adjusted the setting on the heater.
If not for my disguise, I could have a one-night stand with a sexy extraterrestrial, the kind of fling to regale my future disbelieving grandchildren with when they visited me at the nursing home. But, if not for my disguise, I wouldn’t have met him at all. If I hadn’t been trying to prove a point to my brother, I wouldn’t have submitted a job application to the exchange program, and I wouldn’t have come to Dakon at all because I damn sure wouldn’t have signed up to become a mail-order bride.
Let’s get real. The treaty name was a euphemistic misnomer. Earth intended no “goodwill.” Dakon needed women; Earth wanted Dakon’s illuvian ore. Rocks for brides. Proof of what I’d always asserted—sexism still existed. On Earth, women equated to a pile of rubble. Of course, the energy in the mineral could power everything Terra needed for eons. So, valuable rocks, but still rocks.
I drank more ale. It still tasted like crap, but it gave me a nice buzz. And, unfortunately, a full bladder. I eyed the chamber pot. I could walk like a guy, talk like a guy, drink like a guy, but I couldn’t pee like a guy. I couldn’t just drop trou.
“Madison?”
I looked up.
“I said I should check your ankle again,” Enoki said.
“Oh, okay. Sorry. I spaced out there.”
He knelt and uncovered my ankle. “Does it still hurt?”
“It throbs a little, but it’s not bad.” I lifted and twisted my foot gingerly.
“The ice melted quickly. There’s not much left,” he said.
“The bed is a little wet, too.” I patted the furry hide. “Maybe we should ice it again?” I glanced at the chamber pot. I hated to send him out in a blizzard, but I would have to pee soon.
“I’ll wrap it and then ice it again in the morning.” He grabbed the length of kel hide, lifted my foot, and wound the strip around my ankle then tucked the end neatly underneath. “How’s that? Not too tight?”
“It’s fine.” I hoped my bladder could hold out until morning.
Enoki straightened up the cabin, putting away the leftover food, and then moved the chairs draped with my wet clothing closer to the illuvian heater. “It’s been a long day,” he said. “If there’s nothing else you need, I’m going to sleep.”
“Please. Go ahead. I’m tired myself,” I lied. I felt body weary, but not sleepy. Too many thoughts repeated on a loop for me to rest.
He extinguished the lamp, but the heater threw enough light to bathe the cabin in shadows. He moved to the adjacent bed of kels, and I gawked as he pulled off his tunic. The heater’s glow danced off sinew and brawn, his bronzed torso perfecting the masculine V shape. Broader-than-broad shoulders tapered to slim hips you could lock your heels around in a clinch. Boots went flying, and I clapped a hand over my eyes as he removed his leggings. His muscled ass was a sight to behold. Okay, I peeked through my fingers.
How could I not? Enoki resembled a bronzed god. Larger than life. There wasn’t a single ounce of him that wasn’t toned and ripped. My mouth dried, and awakening desire hummed through me. Thank goodness for my ruse, or I’d be jumping his bones. Damn my ruse.
I held my breath, fearing, hoping for a frontal view, but he flung back the top kel of his bed and slid in. “Good night, Madison,” he said. “Wake me if you need anything.”
What I needed couldn’t be satisfied. I croaked, “’Night, Enoki.”
Chapter Six
Enoki
I lay in the flickering light, listening to Madison breathe.
The voices had silenced, but a persistent expectancy kept me on edge. My horns throbbed, and my body felt primed. I sensed I was missing something important. What wasn’t I seeing? Was there something I should be doing?
Adding to the edginess was the inexplicable, sudden, amorphous sexual arousal. Currents of sensation were sizzling through me, my horns pulsing so much that Madison had noticed. An Earther, he didn’t understand the significance, thus saving me enormous embarrassment. Our horns reacted to any strong emotion, but accompanied by an uncomfortable tightening of my loins, it was clearly, but inexplicably sexual desire.
I’d never experienced such mental and emotional upheaval. First, the voices, now the imperative to do…no, to see…something. The urgency felt akin to searching for a misplaced item you desperately needed. You look and look, but can’t see it, yet you know it has to be there.
But, I didn’t know what I was supposed to be searching for.
Despite these disturbances, the oddest sort of tranquility had settled over me, a sense of completion. It felt as if I was where I was supposed to be. How could I be tense and calm?
While others might have considered Madison a complication, I welcomed the distraction his presence offered. His helplessness gave me tasks to accomplish while I figured out what was happening. We were as different as Winter and Thaw, night and day, Dakonian and Earther, I thought wryly, yet I liked him.
He seemed to have no practical or survival skills. Left to his own devices, he wouldn’t last a day on my planet. He would have died if I hadn’t found him. He was neither stout nor robust, and, in fact, was smaller than all our females and some of the Earth ones. Maybe Terran males were delicate and fragile? I had assumed males grew bigger than females, but maybe that occurred only on Dakon.
Madison and I had little basis to form a friendship.
Yet, despite what should have been vast, insurmountable differences, with him I felt a kindredness of spirit, an affinity and connection, not unlike what I imagined I would experience with a mate.
Engaged in governing, I was surrounded by people. They brought me problems, disputes, complaints, requests. I traveled among the tribes, meeting with leaders on matters of mutual concern and benefit. I remained ever cognizant what I did and said affected lives, and while I might support a tribe on one issue, on another we could be on opposite sides. I had to avoid favoritism or the perception of it. Thus, as I’d told Madison, my position did not permit close friends.
Rarely alone, I was often lonely.
The arrival of the females from Earth had greatly benefitted our people—it had saved us from extinction, but it had deepened the emptiness inside. I did not begrudge other men their happiness, but oh, I envied it.
I feared my longing had manifested as whispers in the wind. Fortunately, the taunting voices had gone, granting me a measure of relief while I discharged my responsibility to the young Earth man in my care.
Madison and his simple needs—food, warmth, and shelter—and his easy, uncomplicated company had unexpectedly filled the void, and I’d found myself confiding in him in a way I’d never done with anyone else. Perhaps he made it easy because he would leave with my secrets, taking them far away where no one would care, where no one would view them as a weakness and question my right to leadership.
If Andrea could help him, he would be here for a few days at most. I would miss him, and I braced for the emptiness, which I feared would deepen when he left because I was developing a strong attachment to him.
However, no arrangements could occur until the storm broke. Tomorrow, I would set traps and catch a harebit or two. Over a hearty meal, we could converse and get to know each other more.
I’d thought him asleep, but suddenly, he flung off the kels and sat up. I started to ask if he required assistance, but the furtive way he hunched his shoulders and glanced my direction caused me to hesitate. What was he going to do? I feigned sleep, keeping my breathing steady and shallow, lowering my eyelids to slits.
He studied me for long seconds before he slipped out of bed and pushed up onto his uninjured leg. He hopped two steps to the chamber pot, placed it on a chair then lowered his leggings, and squatted over the pot.
I closed my eyes, giving him privacy while puzzling over another diff
erence between Dakonian and Terran men. Madison urinated like a female. I had never seen an adult male do that. Even injured, a Dakonian would find a way to stand.
Clothing rustled, his good foot thumped the floor, and he groaned as he sank into the kels. Within minutes, his breathing revealed he’d fallen asleep.
Again, a feeling I was missing something obvious swept over me. I stared into the shadows, willing the answers to come, but my lids grew heavy, and I followed Madison into slumber.
* * * *
I awakened to a sliver of dawn along the door and Madison slipping into his kels.
“Good morn.” I stretched. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept so solidly, without whispers intruding into my dreams bringing visions of a husky-voiced female with shoulder-length dark hair.
“Good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you. I had to use the you-know—” he jerked his head at the chamber pot.
“I need to use the you-know myself.” I flung off the kels, and jumped out of bed.
Madison gasped, and averted his head. “Geez, Enoki—you could have warned me.”
The heater had kept the hut warm all night, and I padded naked to the chamber pot. Unlike the Terrans with their strange beliefs and rules about when and with whom one could remove clothing, Dakonians viewed nakedness as natural. We adopted clothing for warmth and protection, but both sexes bathed together in hot springs and braved the still-icy rivers during the Thaw. However, Madison’s obvious embarrassment discomfited me, and as soon as I finished, I pulled on my clothing before flicking the switch on the lamp and flooding the hut with light.
He shielded his eyes. “Are you dressed yet?”
My lips twitched. “I’m dressed.”
He dropped his hand to reveal a pink face. “Is it still snowing?”
“Probably. Let me check.” An icy blast shot in as I cracked the door and peered out. White flakes tumbled from a clouded gray sky not as heavily as before, although the icy wind blowing it sideways made it appear worse. Drifts piled up to the shuttered windows and blocked the door. I would need to tunnel out to get to another hut. “It’s better!” I said.
