by Doug Farren
“I will come see you as soon as possible.”
“I would like that very much,” Tom replied. On the way out, he turned around in the doorway and looked back. Lashpa was watching him, a concerned look on her face. He wanted to say something but his mind was a confused jumble of disconnected thoughts so he waved instead. She waved back.
Tom was so engrossed in thinking about the experience that he bumped into a janitor robot. Confused, and hoping he hadn’t responded inappropriately, he stepped into an alcove and pulled out his pad. A few minutes later, he was knocking on the apartment door of one of his recent instructors. All the instructors lived in the massive building that housed the academy. This one was located in the Rouldian section and it belonged to Athishra, his instructor on Rouldian customs.
“Please come in,” Athishra said, opening the door. “How can I help you?”
Tom waited until the door was closed before asking, “Can I have your word that our conversation will remain private?”
Athishra was one of the few percent of Rouldian males who never mated. In a society where females outnumbered males by more than two-to-one and where mates were chosen for life, an unmated male was a rarity. Athishra’s tail twitched as if he had just been insulted. “All conversations between instructors and cadets are private.”
“What does it mean if a Rouldian asks to taste a non-Rouldian?”
Athishra dropped his head and stared at Tom. “Did you allow it?”
“I did,” Tom replied, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.
“And how exactly did this person respond immediately after tasting you.”
“She closed her eyes then twisted her head like this,” Tom said, demonstrating as best he could.
“How did you respond?”
“After she tasted me, I thought it only appropriate for me to taste her as well.”
Nodding his head and rumbling in approval, Athishra replied, “You did well. May I ask who?”
Tom was becoming embarrassed as if he was revealing a perverted inter-species act. “Lashpa.”
“Ah!” Athishra said, as if he understood. “She thinks very highly of you. She must have wanted to confirm her feelings for you through taste. You do recall that, unlike Terrans, we Rouldians rely on taste and smell to solidify a relationship?”
“I remember,” Tom replied. “But after asking me if I knew what a soul-mate was she yelled out a single word. Surprised the—”
Athishra suddenly became very animated. Taking a step forward, he brought his head very close to Tom and stared at him. “Was it gragrakch?” he asked, in a way that demanded a reply. The word he used came out sounding like a deep, rumbling, growl followed by an attempt to clear his throat.
As far as Tom could tell, it was the same word Lashpa had bellowed out as loud as she could. “I believe so.”
Athishra’s nostrils flared as he took in a quick breath. “Did anyone else hear her?”
“They sure did! I think that same word was echoed by every Rouldian in her hospital wing. We had quite a parade walk by her room too. What—”
Athishra’s right-front foot thumped the floor hard enough to cause the entire room to vibrate. “You?” he asked, his voice louder than necessary.
Taking a step back, Tom shook his head as if doing so might help make sense out of what was happening. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. What exactly does gragrakch mean?”
“If you did not understand, then why did you encourage her? You have no idea what—-”
“Encourage her to do what?” Tom asked, raising his voice. “What the hell are we talking about?”
Athishra raised his head so high Tom thought he was going to bump into the ceiling. The instructor shook his head violently back and forth then stared down at him. “You really do not know what has happened, do you?”
“No.” Tom replied, holding his hands out in front of him, palm up. “That’s why I came to you. I knew something very important had taken place but I don’t know what it was. I didn’t want to embarrass anyone, especially Lashpa, by asking her what had happened.”
Athishra took in a huge breath then violently expelled it. A shudder ran through his entire body starting from his head and moving, wave-like, all the way to the tip of his tail. “You made a very good decision,” he said, in a much calmer tone. Gesturing towards the Rouldian equivalent of a chair, he continued, “Please, have a seat and I will explain.”
A Rouldian chair was nothing more than a long, padded bench. Tom took a seat and waited.
“Most Rouldians believe that life exists on multiple planes. Your physical body is one such plane of existence. At the moment of creation, a new life is split into two complimentary halves. Like matter and anti-matter, north-pole and south-pole, plus and minus, male and female, the two halves yearn to be whole again. Each half becomes trapped inside a physical body, incomplete, always searching for its true-mate. If the two halves encounter each other in the physical world, a connection is made. Total strangers meeting for the first time experience a mutual feeling of trust and understanding that simply cannot be explained. It’s because the two halves are destined to be reunited when both are free of their physical bodies.”
“Soul-mates,” Tom said, nodding his head.
“More than just soul-mates,” Athishra explained. “They are true-mates. When both are free of their physical bodies they will merge together to form the unified being they were created to be. Although separated, they are destined to become one. To find one’s true-mate is a rare and extraordinary event. It is something all Rouldians hope to achieve but very few will ever be able to announce for all to hear, gragrakch!”
Tom finally thought he understood. “So Laspha believes that I am her true-mate? Her soul-mate? I’ve known quite a few people who say they’ve found their soul-mate. Some of them are no longer—”
“You do not understand!” Athishra thundered. “I know Terrans. Your species is driven by your mating instincts. You may think you’ve found your true-mate because your judgment is clouded by your desire to find a compatible mate for procreation. Friends can become enemies, lovers can turn on each other; you form and discard relationships almost as easily as you change your clothes. Finding that one person out of the billions of others who is your true-mate is an exceptionally rare event. One that I think your species is incapable of recognizing.”
Tom wasn’t sure how to respond. Athishra had just insulted the entire human race, but what he said was absolutely true. Several of his past friends had announced they had found their soul-mates. All but one of them was now involved with someone else. Friendships could be broken apart by jealousy. Couples who were happily married one year would be fighting each other in court the next. He began to see Athishra’s concern.
“We are a fickle people when it comes to relationships,” Tom said. “I had no idea what Lashpa was hinting at when she asked me if I knew what a soul-mate was. Had I known, I might have answered differently.”
“How do you feel about her?” Athishra asked. “There is nothing that says that what she believes is not true. We tend to have very keen senses. If she believes you are her true-mate, then I must also believe her. But I need to know—how do you feel about her?”
Tom took a moment to search his feelings. “I feel closer to Lashpa than to anyone else I have ever met,” he replied. “There is nothing we can’t talk about between us. I would trust her with my life if need be. I would never do anything to hurt her feelings either.”
Athishra’s head slowly moved back and forth. “To find one’s true-mate within a Terran must have been a shock for her. I am sure she does not know that you are ignorant of the ramifications of what it means for you to have declared gragrakch.”
Tom shrugged his shoulders. “What can it mean? We can’t be mates—we are from two sexually incompatible species.”
“Why must every relationship with Terrans somehow involve sex? Declaring gragrakch has implications under Rouldian law.”
“Such as?”
“Gragrakch means you and Lashpa have declared yourselves to be one and the same. Under our laws, the both of you are now considered to be a single entity. What is hers is yours and what is yours is hers. If she were to commit a crime, you would both suffer the consequences. If she had been mated, as strange as this may sound, you would also be mated to that same individual.”
Tom was thinking rapidly as he tried to grasp what was to him a completely alien concept. What percolated to the top of his mind though was, “Your species mates for life—doesn’t that sort of complicate things?”
“Not if you’re Rouldian.”
“So what happens now?”
“You are not Rouldian,” Athishra said, looking at him with unblinking cybernetic eyes. “Lashpa must understand that. You cannot be expected to comprehend the depth with which we hold gragrakch. Always be there for her if she needs you. Treat her as you would treat yourself because that is exactly what you are doing. If you fail in this—if you take advantage of your relationship with her, the consequences are most severe. False true-mates are not tolerated and the punishment is death.”
“I will honor your traditions as well as your laws,” Tom replied, standing up. “Thank you for your time.”
“You are welcome,” Athishra replied, heading for the door. “Good luck with your surgery tomorrow.”
Chapter 12
Tom woke up feeling as if he was trying to climb out of a deep dark pit. He tried to open his eyes but they refused to obey the command. His mouth tasted like talcum powder and his entire body felt numb. He thought he heard a voice telling him to sleep and without another thought he did.
When he next opened his eyes, the room was gloomy but he felt much better. His mouth was dry and there was a dull ache around his hips. He lifted his head slightly and peered around. An IV was taped to his left arm, the tube running up to an inverted bag suspended over the bed. Several monitors, their screens dimly lit and showing a variety of numbers and graphs, illuminated the room. A collection of sensors was attached to various parts of his body.
The door opened and an Omel nurse entered the room. "Please lay still Mr. Wilks," he said, turning the lights up a bit. The nurse checked the IV, looked at the level of the fluid in the bag, and quickly scanned the monitors stacked on a rack next to the bed. "You’re doing just fine Mr. Wilks. There were no complications encountered during the surgery. How do you feel?"
"Thirsty," he said in a raspy voice. "I would like something to drink."
"Only enough to wet your mouth. You must restrict your intake of fluids for the next 12 hours. After that, you will be allowed to return to your normal diet."
The nurse left the room. After a brief wait, a male Shandarian nurse returned and handed him a small cup. With some assistance, Tom managed to sit up and sip the drink. It had a light orange flavor.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?" the nurse asked.
Tom shook his head. As soon as the door was closed, he drew back the sheet to reveal his legless torso. A moment later, the door to his room opened and a reptilian head poked through. “Hey!” he excitedly said. “Come on in!”
Lashpa pushed the door open the rest of the way and entered. There was barely enough clearance between the bed and the door for her to fit inside. She curled her tail up over her back so the door could close. Tom wondered how she was going to get back out because there was no way she had enough room to turn around.
Putting her head level with his, she said, “I am glad to see you are doing well. I came by yesterday but I was not allowed to visit you. Are you in pain?”
“Just a dull ache.” Craning his head around, he asked, “How do your new legs feel?”
“Different. They’re much heavier than my original legs and my center of gravity has shifted. It took a while before I could walk straight but now I’m used to them,” she replied, shifting her gaze from his face to his torso. Tom wasn’t embarrassed at all even though he was naked and almost completely exposed. “Is that the catheter?” she asked.
“Yeah—damned uncomfortable too,” he replied.
“I do not envy your physiology,” she said. “There is some swelling and redness but the implants look good.”
“The doc said everything went well.” Tom replied, pulling the sheet back over himself.
“I can’t stay long,” she said. “The desk asked me to limit my visit today but I did want to talk to you about something before I go.”
“If you’re worried about our declaration of gragrakch—don’t be.”
Lashpa tilted her head to one side. Placing her hand gently on his forearm, she said, “I am not used to dealing with non-Rouldians. I automatically assumed that Terrans have the same beliefs as we do. I need to know if you understand the meaning of gragrakch. I—”
Tom raised his arm and put his hand against the side of Lashpa’s jaw just underneath the hinge. “Finding one’s soul-mate is a well-known expression for us,” he said. “I have had it pointed out that we tend to take the expression far too lightly. Although I did not know what gragrakch meant the last time we were together, I do know what it means now and I can assure you that if we really are only half of who we are meant to be, then you are my other half.”
Lashpa’s entire body trembled and Tom could feel the muscles of her jaw tighten and loosen as if she had lost control of them. “We are gragrakch,” she said after a moment. “Not long after you left I began to doubt my own judgment. I called one of your Terran friends and asked her if she had ever heard of gragrakch. When she said no I began to worry if I had misinterpreted your response. I no longer have any doubts. But I must ask, when did you learn the meaning of gragrakch?”
“Honestly? When you made the announcement and everyone else within earshot answered back, I had no idea what had happened. Immediately after leaving your room I talked to Athishra and he told me all about it.”
“It is amazing that you responded like you did even though you did not completely understand what was going on.”
Tom dropped his hand; he was starting to become tired. “More proof that we are gragrakch.”
Lashpa huffed in a Rouldian laugh. “Your Rouldian is horrific. You are tired and I have stayed longer than I intended.” Lashpa looked around, then added, “I don’t think they designed this room to accommodate Rouldian visitors. Playing chess might be difficult.”
Tom chuckled. “I’ve been wondering how you’re going to get out of here.”
Laspha flipped her head around and evaluated the situation. Tilting her head to one side, she said, “I think I’m trapped.” The vocoder did an impressive job of conveying her embarrassment.
Tom reached out and depressed the call button built into the bed. A moment later, the door opened inward and bumped into Lashpa’s hindquarters. “What the…” the startled nurse began.
“My friend needs some assistance in getting out of the room,” Tom said. “Would you mind?” Turning his attention to Lashpa, he said, “Thank you for checking in on me. I’ll see if they can’t move me to a bigger room if one’s available before your next visit.”
The nurse guided Laspha as she slowly backed out the door. Tom could hear him cursing and muttering something about this area of the hospital not being sized for Rouldians. An hour later, Tom was awakened by the sound of three robots entering the room. Without offering any explanation, they quickly set to work. He was surprised to learn that the walls separating the rooms were removable and in no time at all the room was twice its original size.
The larger space allowed Lashpa ample room to visit without having to resort to cramming herself into a corner. A couple of Tom’s other visitors wondered why the hospital just didn’t put him in the Rouldian wing. Two days later, he was eating normally and feeling much better.
Lashpa popped in at the end of the day and announced, “I passed the simulator.”
“That’s great news,” Tom congratulated her. “Does that mean you’re leaving tomorrow
?”
Lashpa’s great head bobbed as she imitated the human gesture. “It does. I’ll be back in three days.”
“You’ll have to tell me all about it.”
“I doubt it’ll be very exciting for you,” she said. “You were in the space force. Other than the trip here, I’ve never been in space, much less piloted a ship. I’m excited.”
“I may have been in the space force,” Tom said, “but I never learned how to pilot a ship either. I’m looking forward to it.”
“I really shouldn’t stay long,” she finally said, after a moment. “The instructor stressed that we should be well-rested. I guess the training flights are pretty hectic.”
“I would imagine so,” Tom replied. “Stop in when you get back.”
Even though he was confined to the bed, Tom’s studies continued. Realizing that the cadets would be spending a considerable amount of time in the hospital, the academy had created a number of computer-based courses so they could continue their studies. Most were advanced courses in Alliance law, cybernetics, and other highly technical topics more suitable to being learned with a computer.
A week after the surgery, a cybertech came in and attached a device to a connection on each of the implants. He looked at the readout for several minutes, disconnected the device, and left without saying a word. An hour later, a nurse arrived and removed the IV. She explained that his nerves had finally fused with the implant's interface and the drugs forcing his nerves to grow at an accelerated rate were no longer necessary.
Late that night, Tom was surprised when Lashpa quietly walked into his room. She was very tired but obviously excited. “Tom?” her vocoder whispered.
“Hey,” he replied, rolling over so he could look at her. “How was your training flight?”
“It was wonderful!” she replied. “I’m so tired I could fall asleep right here. I just wanted to let you know I was back. I don’t have any classes tomorrow but we do have a debrief of our training. I’ll come back later tomorrow.”