by Ann Aguirre
“As am I.”
As if by mutual agreement, they fell into step, walking the path as they talked. “When will you contact them?” She didn’t need to say more; he’d understand what she meant.
“I already sent the message.”
She stopped, so abruptly that a few beings behind her nearly slammed into her back. Gently Helix drew her off the track, toward a cluster of bushes that yielded a spicy scent, likely from the starry-stamen flowers growing profusely. Qalu hardly knew what to say. He doesn’t need me anymore. Not for guidance or advice. I’m…superfluous now. An ache started inside her, swelling with every breath she took.
“I see. Have they replied?”
“Not yet. It probably hasn’t arrived, as I sent it via circuitous channels, bouncing it past various nodes first. I can’t make it easy for them to track me down.”
“They’ve got the best bounty hunter on that already,” she said with a touch of bitterness.
“Krag doesn’t know we’ve parted from the resistance yet. I need his employers to conclude that it’s more trouble to chase me down—that it’s better business to make a deal.”
“You’ve thought of everything,” she said softly.
Qalu should be happy. After all, she’d wanted him to become confident and self-sufficient. But she hadn’t factored for how she would feel when that day came, all sorrow and yawning emptiness. She held still, like one minimizing the pain after taking a tremendous, unexpected wound.
“Thank you for everything,” Helix said. “I’ve booked passage home for you and Aevi.”
She couldn’t speak. Before, she thought she was ready, braced for him to realize they didn’t belong together.
But nobody could be, not for this.
[ 19 ]
As Helix awaited Qalu’s response, he realized he wanted her to protest.
This was the most ridiculously contrary thing he’d ever done, utterly irrational and inexplicable, but his emotions existed apart from empirical knowledge, as if certain feelings had declared war on his reason. Logically speaking, it made perfect sense for them to part ways. He’d even agreed with the points Praxys made, and he’d personally observed the deleterious effect that constant travel had on Aevi.
On returning to Tiralan, Qalu could explain his absence to her mothers however she chose. Perhaps she’d say they weren’t compatible, or blame him entirely, and their ruse would become nothing more than a footnote. A pity that she hadn’t gained more peace as a result of the pretense, but for him, things had become real so quickly that it almost felt like it wasn’t a lie in the first place, as if he had been meant to find her, her among all others. Certainly, he’d gone looking for her, although not because he’d had some inkling that she was his soulmate.
What a curious concept. Multiple beings across a hundred systems had cultural writings devoted to the possibility that a spiritual realm overlapped the physical, and among them, many explored the possibility that another being existed, who contained some missing portion of their own esoteric matter, scientifically improbable and far-fetched, certainly. And where did that leave someone like Helix, who had been inorganic initially? Did the soul grow out of the mind in such a circumstance? Or was he soulless by their standards? Generally, he had no time or interest in such questions, but now that he had a body, curiosity came with it, apparently.
He ached. Implausible as it might sound, it did feel as if she would take part of him with her when she went.
“When?” she finally asked.
“One sleep cycle. I thought you and Aevi would appreciate a break before boarding another ship.”
Her preternatural stillness gave him no inkling of her emotive response, and that hurt. Among the Tiralan, the time they’d spent together and the intimacies they’d enjoyed ought to mean something. And he knew—he knew—that he had no right to feel injured; yet here it was, this unwieldy, unpleasant sense of indignation. Organic beings truly existed in an ongoing state of disarray. Messy, that was the word.
Then a faint twitch of Qalu’s head tendrils gave it away. She wasn’t pleased, though she was restraining that distress. Some of his tension eased. Wrong as it might be, it soothed him to know that the separation wouldn’t be easy for her—that she might miss and remember him, even as she resumed her old life.
“What ship?” Aevi asked.
The Pherzul had crept up while he was distracted, gazing at Qalu with complete raptness. Her countenance had become incredibly dear to him. As an AI, he hadn’t realized that one could feel fondness for someone else’s face. How fascinating. She possessed a classic Tiralan beauty, her scales glowing with warmth, and her—no, he shouldn’t get lost in reverie when the situation was so serious.
Qalu extended her forelimbs and Aevi leapt into them, curling into her with a satisfied whir. The little one seemed much more cheerful after running and climbing for a while. Once Aevi settled, Qalu stroked her back.
“Aevi, do you want to go home?” she asked softly.
“Very much!”
“But do you wish to go without Helix?”
He stared, startled to silence by that unexpected question. Like Qalu, he waited to see what Aevi would say.
“Never! He’s ours, yes? We’re keeping him. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. If we go home without him, does that mean you would go home without me next time?” Aevi hissed in ferocious disapproval. “No, no, no. That is not how this love group works, not at all. We do not abandon what is ours. Not ever.”
“Even if takes a long time for us to get home?” Helix asked, conscious of a strange tightness in his thorax.
“Even then,” Aevi said firmly.
Qalu stepped close then, near enough that he could smell the sweet spice of her pheromones even among all the competing herb and floral notes. “Do you understand now? Aevi speaks for both of us. We belong together, through all trials. Change the transportation arrangements and book an open-date passage for three. We’ll go home with you or not at all.”
“I thought you were supposed to be a super genius,” Aevi muttered. “Why don’t you know something so simple? I bet you can’t even do calculus anymore.”
The Pherzul bounded away, apparently done with the conversation. Her exit freed Helix to move closer to Qalu and he reached out, then hesitated, unsure if his touch would be welcome. “May I comfort you?”
“I would appreciate it,” she admitted. “If it hadn’t been for Aevi, I don’t know if I would’ve been brave enough to speak. Part of me wondered if you wanted us to go.”
“Never,” he said fervently. “Praxys said—”
“Praxys is not part of our love group,” she snapped.
Gently he touched her chest and slowly tapped in cadence with her heart, soothing the wound he’d inflicted with his good intentions. That was something he hadn’t realized was possible either. Sometimes he despaired of ever mastering these nuances. “I understand.”
“Do you? Because you tried to do what I did when I meant to protect you, making my own decisions while taking away your right to choose. If it was wrong for me to do it, then—”
“Yes.” Helix closed his eyes, suddenly seeing the error so sharply that it might as well be etched into his skin. “I don’t want you to get hurt. There’s no guarantee that this will go smoothly or that the syndicate will—”
“I don’t care,” she cut in. “When I left home, when I told my mothers I’d be roving the galaxy with you, I made my choice then. I won’t lie—I’m homesick. But if you left, I would be lovesick, and that wouldn’t be an improvement.”
“I’m still learning, a pitiable, unworthy excuse, but accept it nonetheless. Please.”
“Only if you agree not to let outsiders impact our relationship. The only thing we owe each other is honesty. You cannot offer guarantees of safety, I understand and accept that. Respect my right to make an educated choice.”
“I will. I promise. Stay with me. Please. And try to forget that I was ever so foolish.”
/>
He wanted to get closer to her, so close that he could breathe her in and do more than they’d managed in that storage room on the Vault. But this was another public space. Between the museum, the market in the Vault, and now the station garden, it seemed that his reproductive system might be imperfectly wired, as he primarily experienced the urge to mate when it was most impractical and inconvenient.
Finally, she gave a soft sound, one of acceptance. “You forgave me for not seeing that you didn’t need my protection.”
“But I will always need your affection,” he said.
“You have it.”
For a while longer, they watched Aevi play and then the Pherzul dashed back and threw herself at Helix. He caught her, relishing the tickle of her feathers and the twist of her tail winding around his neck. “Food! I demand tribute.”
“The fierce one has spoken,” Qalu said.
After trying four different places, the fifth one consented to serving Aevi, who seemed to occupy some nebulous social strata, since her species wasn’t recognized as formally sentient, yet Qalu had given her an implant, and it was clear that Aevi was much smarter than anyone had imagined Pherzuls could be. She devoured more food than Helix, and promptly went to sleep draped over his shoulder like an article of clothing. Qalu seemed amused as he carefully carried the little one back to their habitat.
“I wish we had more privacy,” he whispered.
Qalu’s gaze warmed with a glitter of interest. “We would have to be quiet.”
For some reason, a trill of excitement shivered through him. It wasn’t that he wanted to get caught or for Aevi to witness a private moment, but he wanted. His whole body throbbed, and his sex organs swelled and heated, aching to be touched. That much he knew would offer pleasure, and he yearned to learn more, more about his own form, more about hers. His heart raced until he could hardly think, restraining this overwhelming need.
“Does she sleep deeply?” he whispered.
Qalu opened one of the storage niches and used the nesting material to create a soft space for Aevi to curl up. When Helix set her down, the Pherzul whirred and snuggled in, seeming lost to all sights and sounds. Though Qalu didn’t close the partition, she did shift it so that they’d receive some warning if Aevi stirred, privacy on both sides. Entirely desirable.
“Helix.”
His name had never sounded so beautiful. “Yes?”
“Do you want me?”
“More than anything.”
Qalu removed her swator.
There was no reason to delay, not when his desire radiated toward her, even at this distance, a uniquely Tiralan trait. Then she closed the distance between them, helping him out of his garments as well. Their swator puddled on the sleep platform, and he nudged her back, more aggressive than she had imagined.
“Have you been watching explicit Tiralan holos?” she whispered.
“A few.”
His body was beyond beautiful, sheer perfection down to every last detail, but she’d never expected to experience it this way. Hot skin against hers, their scales shimmering as they moved, touching each other with growing confidence. Each caress sparked fresh pleasure, and his eyes glowed with it as his head tendrils entwined with hers, stroking and sliding, each undulation filling her body with delight.
She rubbed her face against his, drinking in his breath as hers. He smoothed their lower limbs together in a move so fluid that it was difficult to believe she was his first partner. His gynosome was pretty and stiff, quivering and slick. His lower sex showed arousal in the softness, more fluid gathering there as well. Qalu had the same response building, an endless ache that would be quenched only by giving herself fully to Helix.
“This will feel lovely,” she whispered. “But let me know if the sensations become overwhelming.” She remembered even now, how he’d struggled with being touched. And just because she’d touched him once, it didn’t grant consent to do whatever she wanted now. Everything should proceed at his pace or not at all.
The pause allowed him time to demur, but he shivered, a breathless “please” escaping him as plea and permission. Qalu caressed him with one forelimb and then the other, easing into the duality. She watched his face with eager eyes, devouring his surprise and the subsequent excitement that made him tremble and twist, straining toward her with urgent motions. His tendrils went frantic, writhing against hers until she could scarcely think, too much stimulation sparking through her, again and again.
Soon, she’d lose control entirely.
Perhaps he wanted that.
“You did this before,” he gasped. “And I was the only one who…benefited. I…it’s hard to think. Stop a moment.”
“Helix?”
“Let me learn what feels good to you.”
He was right, Qalu realized. She’d wanted to give him pleasure since physicality was new to him, but she should let him explore as well. Deliberately, she fell back and he followed, taking a more dominant position. Copying her movements, he caressed her sex as she had his, stroking and delving with delicious confidence. Soon, the sensations built to a sparkling crescendo and just before she dove headlong into pleasure, he paused. She let out a quiet protest.
“Don’t torment me.”
“I want to join with you. Can we…?”
“Yes.”
Then he came down on her, gliding in with fluid sweetness. His body stilled, trembled against her, and she patted his chest, waiting for him to sort out the bombardment of sensations. “My brain stopped,” he whispered.
“You don’t need it that much for this. The feelings matter more.”
“I suspect that’s for the best. I’m currently…unable to do calculus.” A quiet sound as she angled, reaching to stimulate his other sex as he quivered within her.
Helix jolted.
“Too much?”
“No. Unexpected but exquisite. I want more. More.” He shifted to permit a deeper caress, and she could feel the delicate throbbing, his body and hers, joined in twin fashions.
Lower limbs entwined, taking and being taken, their head tendrils surged again, eliciting another sound from Helix. His pleasure drove hers, until it burst like a star, all heat and light, and so strong that she feared it might obliterate everything that had come before. When she came to herself again, she was clinging to him, completely limp with satiation. To her chagrin, she had no notion whether—
Oh. The fluid indicated that she hadn’t been alone.
“Now we’ve mated,” he said, sounding utterly pleased by that.
“Undoubtedly. And while it will be difficult to tear myself away, we ought to use the hygiene facilities and put on our swators, before Aevi wakes.”
“Doing the right thing has never sounded less appealing.” Despite his muttered complaint, he followed her out, where they tidied up quickly.
Afterward, he settled so close to her on the sleep platform that she could feel his heart. Their situation was still uncertain, but currently she didn’t care. Helix hadn’t said he loved her or that he wanted to build a future with her on Tiralan, but he’d said he needed her affection, and she no longer feared that he cared for her because he knew no one else.
“If you had told me about reproductive urges instead of defecation earlier, I suspect I wouldn’t have been so appalled by having a body initially,” Helix said.
Qalu let out an amused noise. “I can only imagine how you would’ve responded to that, had I been so bold.”
“True, I wasn’t ready to learn such things. Everything was new and heavy and slow.”
“And now?”
Snuggling even closer, their head tendrils entwining in languid, loving contact, he said, “It’s another way to live. I miss certain things about my existence as an AI, a particular efficiency that I’ve lost, but I’ve gained so many things. Truths I couldn’t have grasped in my former life. Like being part of a love group or mating or the joy of roast nornroot. Or cuddling Aevi because she trusts me enough to sleep when I’
m holding her.”
“She doesn’t do that with anyone but me,” Qalu said. “Not until you.”
“I’m cognizant of the high honor.” He nestled deeper against her, practically using her as bedding instead of the sleep platform.
She didn’t mind. “Do you think… Would it be safe for me to bounce a message to my mothers? They must be so angry.”
“Concerned, more likely, though it may manifest in sharp words. As I have cause to know, organic beings don’t always follow the course that makes the most sense.”
“Emotions can be so unruly. But they have their merits.”
“Indisputable. I can send—” Helix broke off, his gaze going strange and distant.
Usually that meant he’d connected to the network or was hacking something, occasionally it was both. Qalu waited, worry creeping up on her until it was difficult not to interrupt, but when he could speak, he would.
Finally, his eyes focused on her again, but his expression had changed, losing all the joy and brightness gained in their coupling. For a few seconds, he regarded her with obvious fear and misgiving, as if he wished to force her to get on that wretched ship. She firmed her stare and told him silently it would never happen.
“Don’t leave me guessing. What happened?” Qalu prompted.
“The syndicate responded.”
“Helix!”
In a more emotionless voice than she’d ever heard from him, he relayed the message. “‘We agree to your terms and will honor the agreement. However, we will not cancel the contract with Toth Krag until all credits have been restored. Despite your impressive attempts at misdirection, we have tracked the origin of your signal to Vaadla Station. The hunter is en route. We are most entertained by the possibility that he may eliminate you, regardless of contract status.’ Message terminates.”
[ 20 ]
Violence did not come naturally to Helix.
Not in the sense that he wanted to inflict pain. But as he considered rationally, if the situation escalated and he must choose between preserving life and protecting Qalu and Aevi? He would find some means to eradicate the bounty hunter.