Real Love

by Charlotte Copper

  “Why do you agonize over her the way you do?” Monda asked.

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  She stopped and placed a delicate hand on his arm, withdrawing it quickly. His breath caught at her slight touch.

  “I might if you would explain it to me,” she said, her big blue eyes peering up at him.

  “I thought at one point she was…interested …in me. But then that idiot Dr. Green came along…”

  “If her heart moved on to another so easily, then it never truly was.”

  “I know, it’s just…” Just what? Stupidity?

  “You are only but beginning to see what the universe holds. I am sure there are many females out there who would be honored to win your interest.”

  “We’ve got a ship full of people now, but there aren’t normally too many of us. It’s not like I’ve got a lot to choose from. What am I supposed to do, start dating an alien or something?”

  Two orbs like ocean whirlpools, only brighter, began to swirl. He watched her wipe away the silvery tear.

  “Shit, Monda. I’m sorry.”

  Her face more angular than most. Her lips, full. A constant pout, like she waited to be kissed. When he looked at her big blue eyes and long blue eyelashes, he thought exotic, not alien.

  “Monda.” He reached to wipe the tear. No, it was not his place. He shoved his hand into his pocket. “I didn’t mean you. I don’t think of you as alien. I meant other aliens, like the green guys from Salvador. Have you seen them? About a meter high with pointed teeth. You can’t tell the males from the females except when they have their armor off.” He wanted to pull her into a hug. To comfort her and show her how sorry he felt. But she was promised to another, and while he might be an idiot, his mother also raised him as a gentleman. “Really, Monda, I’m sorry.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  “What I mean is you’re an alien but not an alien. You don’t look like an alien. Of course any guy would be honored to have a girlfriend like you.”

  “Any guy, but you.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant.” He’d be honored to be with her, but the stars had something else in mind. Instead of helping the situation, he made things worse. He’d hurt her. Again. Hopefully her pre-arranged mate…God, he hated that term…hopefully her future husband would see her beauty and cherish her as she deserved.

  ****

  She stared up into Patrick’s eyes. Deep inside she believed him, but her mind reeled with confusion. Why could she not read him?

  People on her planet—Mistress Teevac, Tisla, and Loka among them—had always complimented her appearance. Eyes too big, brows too narrow, she did not see the same thing when she studied her reflection. But they all recognized the futility of lying to another sensor.

  Strong, with broad shoulders, and a handsome face, Patrick’s deep soulful eyes and tender manner spoke of so much more. She had been taught appearances had nothing to do with love or happiness. Who knew what her future mate might look like? She did not have a choice. She had been taught to accept whatever life presented her.

  What would Mistress Teevac do if she knew of Monda’s reservations and uncertainty? Could there be a punishment worse than been mated to someone you cared nothing for and knew nothing about? Fear began to overshadow her doubt. What did life have in store for her when Mistress Teevac awoke?

  “Hey, you two, heading for the movies?”

  Monda swallowed her apprehension and turned to see Demonna approach from the adjacent corridor. Her friend no longer wore her uniform but instead wore a type of legging that Monda had been told were called jeans. She’d observed no other long tunics on the ship, most women favoring leggings, jeans or panz. Her new friend glanced back and forth between them, and frowned. Did Demonna sense their silent struggle?

  “Movies? What are movies?” asked Monda.

  “Actually, I’d forgotten about it.” Patrick turned. His smile, somewhat strained, lightened the tension. “Would you like to go?”

  “I do not know what this movie is?”

  “A movie is something we watch, for entertainment, out here in the middle of nowhere,” he said.

  “And it’s a love story, for Valentine’s day,” said Demonna.

  “Valentimes?”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll love it,” Demonna added. “And if you think ice cream is good, wait until you try buttered popcorn.”

  Monda glanced to Patrick who smiled again and nodded. His friendship, although confusing at times, seemed sincere. The heavy weight in her chest released its shackle-like grip.

  “Yes,” Monda said, “we would like to movie with you.”

  “Well then, come on, kids.” Demonna continued down the hall and Monda fell into stride beside her, Patrick’s footsteps echoing behind.

  They returned to the same room where they ate their meals. All the tables had been moved out of the way, and only row after row of benches remained. The aroma of something much more pleasant replaced the smell of the evening’s dinner. She inhaled deeply.

  “Popcorn,” said Demonna. She grabbed two small bags off a cart by the door, and handed one to Monda.

  Monda lifted the bag to her nose. It certainly smelled good. She picked one of the puffy, pale pieces and tentatively placed it on her tongue. Rice, eyes-cream, and now popcorn. Maybe she would stick to eating the ship’s paler foods.

  “So, whaddya think?” Demonna asked.

  “It is very delicious.”

  “Told ya.”

  Demonna raised a hand to wave, and Winnie, already seated, returned the gesture. Monda shuffled along behind Demonna, careful not to bump the knees of those already seated.

  “What are these?” she asked, the plastic crinkled in her hand as she picked up one of the tiny packages that were spread along the bench.

  “Sweet hearts,” replied Demonna.

  Monda wrinkled her nose. She sat down, Demonna on one side and Patrick on the other side. Hearts? To eat? The popcorn smelled much more enticing.

  “Candy hearts. They’re good. And they’ll tell you your heart’s desire.” Winnie smiled and twitched a single eye.

  Again, the noisy hum of voices surrounded her. Oh, for the quiet of home. And yet, the air of the room vibrated with joyous expectation.

  Suddenly darkness enveloped the room. Monda tensed anxiously in her seat, and stuffed the bundle of candy prophecies into the pocket of her tunic. Silence and anticipation, not panic, descended, and she held her breath. What next? Perhaps she did not want to experience this thing called movie.

  “Don’t worry,” whispered Patrick. He lightly laid a hand on her arm, and she jumped from the emotional shock of his touch on her skin.

  And later, when her hand brushed against Patrick’s as they reached for the popcorn at the same time, her pulse raced to a dizzying speed. She froze rigid while her heart calmed and the blood quieted in her ears. Had Patrick felt it too? She glanced casually at him—his silhouette highlighted by the movie’s bright light—but he appeared unaffected, and she could read nothing from his emotion.

  Obviously created to elicit an emotional response, the movie had indeed achieved its emotional goal, both within the audience and herself.

  Her head spun. Overwhelmed and drained, she sat surrounded by sensory overload. The polar opposites between her own life and that of the female in the movie did not go unnoticed. Free to choose her mate, the woman sampled relationships with various men until she met the one with whom she wanted to spend her life. The female, however, had been unhappy for most of the movie, anxious to find the man of her destiny. The woman should have been happy she had any choice at all!

  Oh, if only she had a choice. She glanced again at Patrick. What good would choice be? His heart obviously belonged to someone else. His breathing and posture tensed as Malory and Dr. Green exited two rows in front of them. She could not have him, but she wished she could help him.

  “So, what did you think?” asked Demonna as the room’s lighting ret
urned to its normal intensity.

  Monda remained seated with her friends, while others in the room began to exit. With the audience’s departure, her emotions returned to normal. Or at least what normal had become since she arrived on this ship. “I do not understand why it took so long for the players to recognize each other as their true mate; why there were so many obstacles put in their way.”

  “Because that is what life and love is. It’s never an easy road,” said Demonna.

  “She should have been happy she even had a choice.” Monda bit her lip. She would have to watch what she said and thought when Mistress Teevac recovered.

  “Well, I think she should’ve picked Hank,” added Winnie, licking the butter off her long pink nails. She made the act seem intimate.

  “He was not very nice,” Monda said, focusing her thoughts on the movie.

  “But he was super hot,” Winnie replied. Again she twitched her left eye.

  “Appearances are unimportant, if there is no beauty within.”

  “What if the person is capital U”—Winnie’s head bobbed as she spoke—“U-G-L-Y?”

  Monda followed Demonna’s example and rose to leave. “I have heard some of the women say Dr. Green is attractive, but I find him to be self-centered and of high ego.”

  “Well, that is something I think we can all agree on,” chimed Demonna.

  “Even you, my little chi-chi?” teased Winnie.

  “Who you calling chi-chi?” replied Demonna, her face looked mad, but her voice and air suggested otherwise.

  “What is a chi-chi?” asked Monda.

  “It’s a joke Demonna and I have.”

  “And a lot of people wouldn’t get away with it. When I call Winnie chi-chi it means stylish. When she says it, it means…” Demonna pursed her lips in thought.

  “It means she prefers Miss Mary over Mister Buddy,” Winnie offered with her customary laugh.

  “I do not understand. Who is Miss Mary?”

  Demonna leaned in and whispered. “It’s a term my grandmother used. It means I prefer relationships of the sexual nature to be with other women instead of men.”

  “Is that an issue on your planet?” Monda turned to her new friend. She still had much to learn.

  “Some people try to pretend it’s not. But some people are still…” Demonna shrugged and tossed another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

  “Old-fashioned?” offered Winnie.

  “I was thinking close-minded,” said Demonna, “but sure.”

  “We are trained to be physical with both males and females,” Monda said.

  “What?” Demonna’s hand froze on its way into the popcorn bag.

  Winnie’s bright eyes grew bigger. “Pardon?”

  Even Patrick, who had remained quiet so far, turned. “What?” he said, echoing Demonna.

  Was this one of those situations where she should have listened and not talked? Too late now. “We are trained in ways to pleasure both male and female. We never know what our future roles will be or the preference of our eventual mate.”

  “So they could hook you up with another female? I like it,” said Demonna. “Very forward thinking planet.”

  “They could, but they would probably arrange for someone who prefers females to be mated to another female. No offense, but for intimacy I prefer males.” She glanced at Patrick and then back to Demonna. “I have never participated in the act which leads to reproduction. I have seen it done, but I have never been allowed to join. Many males like their mates pure and experienced at the same time. There are many other ways to please a man, such as…”

  “No, no, that’s okay.” Patrick raised his hand in a gesture she knew meant stop. “I think…I think I’ll leave you ladies here. Good night, all.”

  Had she said something wrong again?

  “Party pooper,” admonished Winnie as Patrick left the movie room. “This night was finally starting to get interesting.”

  Winnie and Demonna did not seem offended by her confession. Perhaps they would help her learn the intricacies of relationships on their world.

  “What is the situation between Patrick, Malory, and Dr. Green?”

  Winnie laughed. “You picked that up, too, eh? Guess you don’t really need to be a sensor to get that one.”

  “He did say something about it before, but…” She followed the two females to the exit. The doors hissed open, and they stepped into the cool air of the hall. She followed them through the bleak, stark passage ways.

  “Patrick really likes…liked…Malory,” Demonna said. “And it appeared she liked him too until the good doctor came aboard. Suddenly she didn’t have the time of day for poor Patrick. Seems she prefers the abrasive doctor over the lieutenant. Bad choice if you ask me.”

  “I think his interests may be changing,” said Winnie.

  “So, you see it too?” said Demonna.

  “See what?” asked Monda. Sometimes their conversations left her puzzled. Tisla and Loka never caused such confusion.

  “I think Patrick’s feelings may be shifting from the toxic Malory to you, our lovely newcomer,” Winnie said.

  “I do not know.” Monda shook her head and sighed. “He is…a blank to me.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Demonna stopped and Monda almost bumped into her. “Can’t you sense how he feels?”

  “All I feel when he is around me is…strange.” And…and something more, but she could not put a name on it or explain it to her new friends.

  “Well, you’re promised to someone else. He’s probably afraid to say anything, assuming he even recognizes it himself.”

  “This is you, hon.” Winnie stopped in front of Monda’s room. “Sweet dreams.” She did the one-eye-closed thing again.

  Monda would have to ask Demonna about the twitch. It seemed to be something Winnie could control. Hopefully it meant something good.

  She entered the strange chamber they had allocated to her. Her single bag, the only remnant of her home world, still sat at the foot of the bed. Her head spun with the emotional turmoil of the movie, the thought of leaving her new friends…and the suggestion that Patrick might be interested in her.

  If only she had such a choice.

  Few males lived at Mistress Teevac’s, and none had appealed to her in that way. Not that she would have been allowed more than friendly contact. There had been the pleasure-teachers, and while Tisla had found one highly desirable, Monda had been paying too much attention to the lesson to notice the male’s facial appearance.

  It was not until the presence of Lt. Patrick Lancaster that her desire for choice—her wish for a different fate—had been substantiated.

  Would her new master be as attractive as Patrick? As charming? She would not mind being bonded to someone like the handsome lieutenant. Stop it! You have no control over your future, you silly female. Had she not heard similar words often enough when the teachers caught her day dreaming? She would have to go wherever Mistress Teevac delivered her and she would do her duties, whatever her new master required of her.

  The room, like her life, seemed to close in around her. She struggled to breathe.

  She waved her hand in front of the monitor, and the door hissed open. She stepped out into the cool, open hall. There were some things she could control.

  ****

  Patrick leaned against the door and studied the bare walls of his room.

  What the hell was going on?

  He had to accept she was taken. Why did he have to be attracted to unattainable women?

  First Malory. Now Monda.

  What had he seen in Malory? He knew little of Monda but suspected she would never be so callous with someone’s affections. That would be a lucky thing for the man that waited for her on the unknown planet.

  Monda had some kind of spell over him. He felt joy through her eyes, the newness of her experiences. Ice cream. Popcorn. Movies. So innocent. He felt like an anxious school boy around her.

  Except for her comment. She’d be
en trained in sex. When she said that, he felt all man. His body’s response immediate. Something else she would share with another man.

  He banged the back of his head against the door. Okay, that hurt. And it didn’t resolve anything.

  He squinted at the foreign object under his bed, and bent to retrieve the tiny plastic package. It must’ve fallen from his pocket.

  Women often turned to chocolate and candy to help with their moods, maybe they knew something he didn’t. He undid the ribbon and the tiny candies tumbled onto his bed. Two pink hearts faced up. He read the tiny print. Soul Mate and New Love. He reached for the blue heart, and flipped it over. Love Her.

  Okay, that didn’t help. He needed to clear his brain. He quickly changed into shorts and running shoes.

  He set a steady pace. His steps resonated in the quiet halls while his thoughts echoed in his brain.

  Well, it wasn’t like he was a virgin.

  And it wasn’t like he was ever going to be with her.

  But damn! He’d been sneaking peeks at her during the movie, her big blue eyes focused on the screen. And yet, soon she would belong to someone else.

  He came into the large open sky deck, the roof an expansive and uninhibited view of space above. Sometimes the view took his breath away, but not tonight. Instead, his breath caught because of her. He froze.

  Monda turned, and his chest constricted again.

  “Hello,” he said and walked to the bench by which she stood.

  He saw the silvery tear sneak out of the corner of her eye. Was this his fault? He reached up to brush it away. This time he didn’t stop. His hand caressed her cheek, and she turned her face into his palm.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. How useless the question sounded.

  “I am lost. I feel like a tiny speck floating in an unending universe.” She peered up into the open sky above. “Not knowing where I am from or where I am going, and unable to control the path on which I travel.”

  “What can I do?” What could he do? To protect her? Comfort her?

  He leaned in and kissed her. Certainly not what he had in mind, but when she kissed him back, nothing else mattered. Her lips were indeed as soft and inviting as he imagined. Her body melded to his, and he crushed her tightly to his chest.