by T. J. Land
“Us, yes. But what if there were more of us?”
Bewildered, Echo said, How could there be more of us? None of us are likely to have children.
Smirking, Antoine leaned in, lowering his voice: “I’ve been thinking about that cloning equipment we found. I’ve spoken to Rux, and he says he might be able to get it working.”
Echo kept his expression neutral. Apparently interpreting that as an invitation to continue, Antoine said, “If we’re serious about making this planet our home, we need to start examining the question of how we can create a sustainable, lasting community. Now, if we are to consider what a minimum viable population number would be, we…”
Moxie jumped on the table and nudged Echo’s hand. As Antoine prattled on, Echo stroked her, glad of the distraction. He was, he acknowledged, a touch sensitive to the idea of cloning. Most people who’d been born on the Moon in the last century were. One of the many reasons the lunar economy had been destroyed by sanctions was its government’s enthusiasm for eugenics. A third of its population were clones. While Echo had never had anything against them per se, the fact remained that those who reproduced through conventional means and gave birth to children who didn’t meet the Department of Health and Progress’s exacting standards were heavily penalised. Echo had long suspected that was why his parents had chosen to give him up.
Not that Antoine knows any of that, Echo thought. Their first officer wasn’t thinking of such things. He was thinking of their future, building a community, and saving them from the bleak fate of dying in this galaxy one by one, their pitiful numbers shrinking and shrinking until they were all gone, and there was nothing to show they’d ever been here. He was, as always, working with the best of intentions. That was what worried Echo. Good intentions, when coupled with Antoine’s tendency towards a lack of foresight, tended to do more harm than bad ones, in his experience.
“…and then we’ll need to start thinking about accommodation and what sort of electoral system we’ll use, and…”
Everyone on board The Prayer knew Echo didn’t talk. What only a few of them understood was that Echo’s silences all had a different character; they might signal indifference, shyness, disdain, even lust. Those who had known Echo for a long time had learned to pick up on the tiny flashes of body language that indicated what sort of silence they were being subjected to.
While sensitivity to the feelings of others wasn’t one of Antoine’s greatest strengths, he had known Echo longer than anyone on board save for the captain. His excited ramblings trailed off while Echo rubbed Moxie’s head and studied the table.
“I might be getting ahead of myself. Obviously, I wouldn’t…” He stopped, cleared his throat, and continued: “I wouldn’t go ahead with any of this unless we all agreed it was the right path for us to take.”
The oven chimed and Echo retrieved a tray of tarts.
“Sorry,” Antoine said as Echo put them to one side to cool. “I wasn’t thinking.”
Echo nodded in thanks. It has occurred to me that if Rux’s people are living on Moxie 2, they may not like us treating their planet like our own.
“I agree,” said Rux, making both of them jump. They hadn’t noticed him asleep in his cat form underneath the table. “My people were not malevolent, but neither were they generous by nature. If we meet them on Moxie 2, I would advise you to keep your plans to yourself, First Officer. On an unrelated note, from this vantage point, I am able to discern that Echo has pleasingly shaped toes. I would like to suck upon them if that would not be discomforting to him.”
Reaching down, Antoine picked Rux up by the scruff of his neck and flung him yowling out of the kitchen.
“Perhaps they’ll take him back. Wouldn’t that be nice?” he said to Echo and accepted a tart.
✩✩✩
Since the ship’s near-catastrophic malfunction, Zachery divided his time between coddling her engines and training Thomas as his new assistant. He hadn’t said as much, but Rick suspected he’d been thinking about what would have happened if he’d been killed in the explosion; without a replacement engineer, they’d all have been royally screwed. The end result was that sometimes whole days would go by without Rick seeing one or another of his boyfriends, which was all kinds of shitty. Rick was starting to realize that he was an attention-thirsty little whore.
That said, at least they were sharing the same quarters now. Every time the doors slid open Rick held his breath in anticipation of finding Thomas lying on the bed reading one of his old comic books, or Zachery practicing his guitar. Whenever his wish came true, they’d shuffle over so he could sit next to them, or drag him into their laps for a quick make-out session.
Eight days after leaving Yusra, Rick came home to find Thomas gazing out the porthole window brooding as Moxie 2 drew ever closer.
“All that ice,” said Thomas, gesturing to the white world looming up ahead. “What happens if it cracks under the ship when we land on it?”
“The ship’s engines freeze up, it sinks, and we all die,” said Rick cheerfully.
“For fuck’s sake, man.”
“Cheer up, you wet blanket. It’s pretty.”
The door slid open again, and a green cat scampered in. As they watched, its body stretched and twisted until it had taken on the shape of a tall, naked man who looked a little bit like the two of them mashed together.
“You appear to be unoccupied,” said Rux. “This is good. I am in need of fleshly comforts. My mute friend has spurned me, and the captain is busy with paperwork. I would therefore like to suggest that the three of us have sex. I realize that we are not well acquainted; thus far, I have confined myself to the captain’s bed. To entice you, I offer any one of five hundred forms, many of which have tentacles.”
While they were both processing that, Khali stuck her head in through the door and said, “Number one, Rux, you need to learn how to flirt better. Number two, Thomas is scared of squid, so I don’t know about the tentacles. Number three, close the fucking door when you’re talking about weird sex stuff. I didn’t want to hear any of that. Jesus.”
“Sorry!” Rick called after her as she stormed off. “Rux, close the fucking door. Then turn into me.”
Thomas, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, was already taking his clothes off. “Into you? What, so you can have sex with yourself?”
“No, dummy, so I can watch myself having sex with you and jerk off to it.”
Obligingly, Rux transformed into a perfect—if greener—simulation of Rick, right down to the missing eye.
“Nice!” said Rick, grinning. “Hmm…okay, bulk me up a little. Better abs. That’s great. Maybe you could make me a few inches taller? Like, about ten inches? Yeah, perfect. Now give me cat ears. And wings, can you do those? Sexy demon wings, I mean, not angel wings. Wait, you don’t know what a demon is. Lemme see if I can find you a picture…”
Ten minutes later, Rick declared his creation complete.
“How am I supposed to fuck that?” Thomas demanded. “I don’t even know where his ass is!”
Stepping back, Rick acknowledged that the mermaid tail had been taking matters too far. Rux returned to his humanoid form, keeping the cat ears at Thomas’s request. Then they set about climbing him like a tree.
“I wish you both to enjoy this experience,” said Rux, wrapping his arms around them. “Tell me if there are specific preferences you have regarding the insertion of sex organs into orifices.”
“Aww, he’s gentlemanly and hot,” said Thomas. “I wanna give him a blowjob. That okay with you, Rick?”
“Sure, it’s his ass I want,” said Rick, busy looking around for something to stand on. Another of the many, many downsides to being the shortest boyfriend was that fucking while standing up could be really awkward. “Rux, you know what a prostate is? You got one in there?”
“This form is biologically identical to yours, inside and out.”
“Fantastic.”
Rux’s cat ears twitched when Thomas
dropped to his knees and gave his cock a tentative lick. Drawing back, Thomas said, “Whoa—he’s warm. Rick, feel him, he’s like a hot water bottle.”
Rick had found the small footstool that Khurshed liked to rest his heels on when Thomas was massaging his feet. Standing on it, he could align his cock with Rux’s ass. Pawing said ass, he found that Thomas was right; Rux’s whole body felt as though he had a fever.
“You’re not sick, are you?” he asked him, genuinely concerned.
Rux smiled at him. Though the face it appeared on was less severe, it was Khurshed’s smile; warm, secretive, a touch conspiratorial. Rick was glad to see it. He still didn’t know Rux very well, and he was experiencing that same sense of mild discomfort he’d felt not so long ago when he was in bed with Thomas and Zachery for the first time. “No. I am always this temperature. Small one, are you afraid of squid?”
Catching on, Rick licked his lips. “Nope. I love squid.”
As Thomas took Rux’s cock into his mouth—or as much of it as would fit—Rick started sinking into him, one arm around his waist so he didn’t lose his balance. When he was almost fully sheathed, he felt something tickling his shoulder. Glancing back, he saw three tentacles swaying back and forth behind him, each about the width of his dick. They were green, smooth, with no suckers—not really squid-like at all. Tracing them back, he saw that they were growing out of the skin on Rux’s hips.
“Okay, I’m game,” he said. “What’re you gonna do with those?”
As he spoke, he felt a fourth and fifth tentacle twine around his legs. Weird feeling. Weirdly exciting. And they were even hotter than the rest of Rux’s body. Rick started to sweat as though he was in a sauna. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against Rux’s spine as one of them slithered up his thigh and pressed against his ass.
Rux was vibrating, a deep, familiar sound rolling up from somewhere in his huge chest.
“I didn’t know you purred,” Rick said, reaching up to stroke his velvety ears.
Thomas must have been doing damn fine work, because Rux could only mumble, “I…mhm…”
Smirking, Rick gripped Rux’s hips and thrust into him, making the purring louder. The tentacles wrapped around his legs clenched tight, and the one rubbing up against his ass started rubbing more insistently. Swallowing his nerves, he spread his feet further apart and let it at him.
Although Rick was now an expert on anal, he hadn’t been on the receiving end all that much. Thomas and Khurshed both liked taking his cock, so that was what they usually did. Zachery categorically refused to bottom, but Rick had only let him fuck him a handful of times. He was two feet taller than Rick; his dick was a challenge. With lube and prep and, ideally, a little weed, Rick could take him. Otherwise, he’d still enjoy it, but he’d be hella sore afterwards. So when he and Zach were short on time—which was often—they fell back on handjobs and kisses. The upshot was that Rick hadn’t yet developed the unflinching manliness that allowed the captain to take a dick the size of Rux’s into him without a whimper.
The tentacles weren’t quite as big as Rux’s dick. But they were big. They were also hot; Rick’s whole body was dripping with sweat now. As one pushed into him, he whimpered, pressing against Rux’s back with his jaw slack.
“Small one? You seem to have gone limp. Is everything alright?” Rux inquired.
Rick tried to get hold of himself. Opening his mouth to formulate a reply, he instead gave a weak moan when the tentacle rubbed hard against his prostate.
He heard Thomas chuckle: “Oh, I know that sound. What’re you doing to him back there, Rux?”
“Crewmate Thomas, I implore you to put my sex organ back in your mouth.”
Rick had trouble following what they were saying. All his available brain space was currently occupied by listing all the ways getting fucked by a tentacle differed from getting fucked by a cock or fingers. Aim—that was one thing. The tentacle seemed to have a mind of its own. Even with Rux preoccupied with whatever Thomas was doing to him, its thrusts were pinpoint accurate.
Rick’s own thrusts weren’t half as impressive. Despite his being a goddamn expert at anal these days, he knew he was putting on a damn poor showing. In his defence, concentrating was difficult. On top of everything else, Rux was now purring so hard it was like being buried in a giant vibrator.
Get it together, he told himself.
Gritting his teeth, he tightened his grip on Rux’s waist and started giving as good as he got. Barely ten seconds later, Rux came, and when he did, something weird happened. For an instant, the texture of his green skin changed, becoming harder—almost scaly. The tentacles became rougher, growing ridges as they thrust into Rick’s body one last time, which was all Rick needed to push him over the edge.
His and Rux’s moans were accompanied by a yelp from Thomas. “Ow! Christ, don’t pull my hair so hard.”
“Aah…ah…apologies,” Rux gasped, swaying as though he might topple over. “Are you all right?”
“You got your green jizz in my fringe,” Thomas said, in that adorably grumpy voice he used when someone had messed with his precious, precious hair.
“Poor baby,” snickered Rick, basking in the warmth of Rux’s back as the tentacle withdrew. “Rux, I think you need to make it up to him.”
“I concur.”
Rick hopped off the footstool and sprawled back on the bed to enjoy the sight of Rux dragging Thomas up from his knees and lavishing kisses on his mouth and neck. When Thomas was frotting against his leg, the alien picked him up, placed him on the bed next to Rick, then rolled him over, and fucked his brains out. Rick’s cock wasn’t ready for a second round yet, but he saved the image for later, along with a mental note to ask Rux if he could grow himself a cat tail to go with the ears.
They were lying back against the pillows, Rux in the middle, with the two of them on either side, when Rux said, “Are we friends now?”
Rick’s blood ran cold. Apparently Thomas felt the same way, because he said, “Oh hell, this wasn’t a trade-off, was it?”
“Rux, you know you didn’t have to have sex with us to be our friend, right? You knew that?” Rick asked, sitting up to look him in the face. Please say you knew that.
“Yes, yes,” said Rux. “I understand that physical intimacy is not a prerequisite for amicable relationships among your kind.”
“Thank God,” said Thomas, curling up again at Rux’s side.
Rick wanted a touch more assurance. “So you came here because you’re into us? No other reason?”
“I came for several reasons. Firstly, I was bored and wanted sex. Secondly, I know that the captain is ‘into you’, and I am ‘into’ him. I hoped to gain a more complete understanding of him by sharing intimacy with you. Thirdly, you are both attractive specimens and you interest me. The purpose of my visit was not to win your friendship. That said, if I have managed to do so, that would please me. I like having friends.”
Rick’s heart lurched as he remembered that before they’d come along, Rux had spent hundreds of years alone on Yusra. “Okay. We can be friends.”
Rux beamed. “Splendid.”
Chapter Four
“There’s nothing there,” said Antoine.
They’d arrived in Moxie 2’s orbit forty-eight hours ago and, so far, had yet to encounter anything that looked like a trap. The distress signal was still coming through. The problem was that the place it was coming from—the equator—was as barren as every other inch of the planet.
“They might be using holograms to hide themselves. They might live under the ice. They might be very well camouflaged,” said Khurshed.
Or very small, Echo contributed.
Antoine turned to Rux. “It occurs to me that you’ve not told us what your creators look like.”
Lounging on the arm of the captain’s chair in his cat form, Rux said, “They had a predilection for body modification, so I cannot say for certain what they might look like today. When last I saw them, they were bipedal. Most
of them were slightly larger than me. The number of limbs they possessed on the upper halves of their bodies varied over the course of their lifetimes. They had mouths and ears and communicated through speech, as you do. While they were a hardier species than you, they were not invulnerable to the elements and built dwellings to shelter themselves. As we do not see any on the surface below, it may be supposed that they are still inhabiting their ship, the remains of which may have been concealed beneath the ice since their crash landing.”
Antoine turned to Khurshed. “I assume you intend for us to go down there?”
“We won’t land. As you have posited, it is entirely possible that they plan to steal our ship. A handful of us will descend to the planet’s surface and see what there is to see. The Prayer will remain in flight.”
“We have no detachable vessels. How will we get down without landing?”
Khurshed smirked. “I thought Rux might be of some assistance…”
✩✩✩
“You have lost your mind,” Antoine told him two hours later, after they had entered the planet’s atmosphere and come to hover half a mile above its surface.
“Do you have a better idea?
“Yes. We go home.”
“I assure you, I am more than up to the task,” said Rux, his razor-sharp beak clacking as he spoke. “Although, unfortunately, I can only carry a maximum of two passengers safely.”
The captain turned to his crew, assembled in the cargo bay. They didn’t have much room; the shape Rux had shifted into had a wingspan of twenty metres. More to the point, its horns and talons were all as long as Khurshed’s arm. It didn’t look the least bit aerodynamic, with its barrel chest and disproportionately large head, but Rux had assured them it could remain airborne for weeks on end.
“Captain, this is madness,” Antoine insisted. “You can’t even ride a horse, much less…whatever Rux is supposed to be.”
“A species my people hunted to extinction. They called it ‘the feathered death’,” Rux said helpfully.
