Selected Assistant

by Robin Roseau

  “I like your name,” I declared. “It suits you. I don’t think you have made a mistake. You offer homage.”

  “That was our thought.”

  I thought about it. “All right. But.” I pointed a finger back and forth between them, then snatched it away, remembering that pointing was rude in many cultures, and wondering if it was rude to either of them. “You will not…” I paused, unsure how to say this. “You won’t play.”

  “I don’t understand this rule you place,” Forever replied.

  I sighed. “Drying is drying. Looking is looking.”

  “I remain confused.”

  “I really need to spell this out, don’t I?”

  “Probably.”

  “You understand that phrase?”

  “Idioms can be difficult,” she said. “But that one is common. You are speaking carefully. We appreciate it.”

  “Fine. There are portions of my body that are sensitive to touch.”

  “It hurts if they are touched?”

  “No, but touching them at all is as if you desire a physical relationship. Sex. Okay. It’s as if you’re asking for sex.”

  “We’re not asking for sexual contact,” Makiko said.

  “Well, I’ve caught both of you staring at my chest, and I bet you’re both dying to touch.”

  “That is not sex.”

  “Do you know nothing about human biology and mating rituals?”

  “I wouldn’t say ‘nothing’,” Forever said. She offered a vague gesture. “I should have studied. I know those are for feeding your young. I do not understand why they are so dominant amongst human women. You have not given birth, and you would not have been selected for such a strenuous activity as today’s if you were with child.”

  “Are you two just teasing me?”

  “There are three species in this water, Taisha,” Makiko said. “How can we understand each other if we do not talk? I cannot feel what you feel, and you cannot feel what I feel.”

  “This is a difficult conversation for you, isn’t it?” Forever offered.

  “Americans are hypocrites about sex,” I replied. “Some of us don’t stop talking about it. We idolize it in our movies and other cultural forms. But at the same time, it’s considered dirty and private. We come with hang-ups about it, and about talking about it.”

  “But your chest is not involved in sex.”

  “It certainly is!” I said firmly.

  “I am not an expert in human biology, but I am fairly sure that is not true.”

  “Well, I’m not an expert in human biology, either, but I’m pretty sure I’ve had more sex as a human than either of you.”

  They offered their forms of brief laughs, but then Makiko said, “We’re not trying to argue, Taisha. We’re trying to understand.”

  “I’ve never had to explain this before,” I said. “I can’t believe this. Fine. Just. Fine.”

  “You’re growing upset. We do not have to talk about this.”

  “I’m not upset. I’m frustrated and embarrassed, but you’re right. We are three species, and if I’m going to get a real good look, I can’t be a hypocrite and not allow you to look. So. Fine. You’re right. From a purely biological aspect, if the only goal is to produce a child, it takes only the genital areas meeting in a particular fashion. There is no need for such an act to be one of pleasure for the female. A woman can become pregnant through rape. It only takes…”

  “An exchange of DNA.”

  “Yes,” I said. “No. Not an exchange. A transfer, which for humans involves a particularly disgusting fluid, delivered from a male into a female. That is sex in its most basic form. I have never engaged in that form of sex, and it would require someone to rape me before it will happen to this body.”

  “You do not wish children?”

  “You must know that I don’t need to have sex with a man to produce a child,” I said. “There are other ways. So. That is the most basic form of sex between a man and a woman. Pleasant for the man, but perhaps not for the woman, and perhaps quite horrible.”

  “We understand,” Makiko said gently.

  “That’s the part of this conversation that is upsetting,” I said. “It’s fine. Sex can be extremely pleasurable, and it doesn’t require a man. We still call it sex. Or lovemaking. We tend to use those words interchangeably, but they have different implications.” I sighed. “For me, and for the women I’ve been with, arriving at pleasure involves sweet touches delivered over time, and those sweet touches involve far more of my body than simply my genital area.” I shook my head, not believing we were having this conversation. “Of special interest…” I sighed for the umpteenth time then actually lifted one of my breasts clear of the water, arching my back to do so. I indicated the nipple and aureole. “This area is very sensitive to the right touch.” I released it back into the water. “It enjoys a wide variety of sensations. I’m not going to categorize them for you. So, you may dry me, but you’re not playing. Do you now understand the difference?”

  “I think we do,” Forever said. “Taisha…”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “I told you. Americans have hang ups about this topic. I’ll be fine by the time the two of you are ready to help me from the tub.”

  They didn’t speak, but they both climbed from the water. I watched. They were so different. Makiko was taller than I was, lithe, with a powerful body. I knew she could kick my ass, and probably that of most people, but she’d been kind to me, and I could easily admire her body.

  “Makiko.” She turned. “You’re a different color than you were before. Is that a reaction to the water?”

  “No. We are like your chameleons,” she said. “The Komodo are, as well, but their colors are tied to their emotions. Ours are far more closely aligned to our surroundings. We do not take on the same patterns as what surrounds us, but we are likely to take on the overall colors. It is partially voluntary and entirely based on visual stimulation.”

  “If I shine blue light into your eyes, you’ll turn blue?”

  “Yes. It takes time. We do not turn bright versions of any colors. It tends to be muted. I grow no whiter than you are, but I can turn quite dark or take on other colors. The process can begin quickly, but it takes perhaps ten minutes before the shift is sufficient to notice, and as long as an hour for some people before the color shift completes. I tend to be slower than average.”

  “That’s pretty cool.”

  “Komodo color shifts are far more rapid,” she added. “They have a resting color that is a dull green.”

  “Carolina Komodo was quite colorful.”

  “She has been very excited for this visit, and I think particularly excited last night, to meet new humans.”

  We talked, the two dried, using actual towels. “Is that how you typically dry?” I gestured.

  “No,” Forever said. “But it is how we wish to dry you.”

  I laughed. “Got it.”

  As I was saying, they were quite different. The Niecor, compared to a human, was huge. Oh, she wasn’t as big as an Ardent or Wookie, but she was quite tall and muscular, and I enjoyed looking at her, too. I’ll describe more shortly, but the two set their towels aside and then stepped to the pool behind me. I craned my head as they reached down, grabbed my arms, and lifted me from the tub.

  I laughed as they set me on my feet, but then I decided my best choice was to close my eyes. But I used my hands to sluice some of the water from my skin.

  “Let us dry you, Taisha.”

  I nodded, and then I let them do what they wanted. They began with drying me, and they were especially careful. “I won’t take damage if you’re a little more…” But then I shut up.

  They dried me, and then Forever said, “What do we do with your hair?”

  “Do you have another towel? I’ll show you. A medium-size towel, not a big one.” She handed me something. It wasn’t the right size, but it would do. I fluffed my hair, and then I felt Makiko’s hands. I let her take over.

/>   “My mother used to do this for me,” she said.

  I let her dry my hair, and she even knew how to tie my hair up in the towel when she was done. “We can finish that in the air dryer,” she said. “After.”

  “All right,” I said.

  “Are you going to be offended if we touch?”

  “Stay away from my… um. Sensitive areas.”

  “Is that a euphemism?” Forever asked.

  “Yes.”

  They both offered laughs, but then I felt their hands. I stood for the exam, and they were fairly thorough. They each began with my hands, one each, even manipulating the fingers. Makiko asked me to clasp her arm as firmly as I could. I don’t think she was impressed.

  “These are good hands for her work,” Forever said. “Small and dexterous. That makes her somewhat like a Loris.”

  “Not that small.”

  “No. It is easy for the more physically powerful species to underestimate the evolutionary tracks others have taken.”

  “I think it would be a mistake to underestimate Octals,” I inserted.

  “You know about them,” Makiko said. “No one underestimates Octals. Humans should also not be underestimated, but for different reasons.”

  They explored. Forever stood in front of me, examining my face, touching gently. When she brushed my lips with a finger, I told her, “Don’t overdo that, and don’t do it to my eyes.”

  Makiko did the same with one ear, and I said, “Ears can be an erogenous zone.”

  “I shouldn’t touch.”

  “Can be,” I said. “You’re fine, but I had one girlfriend who loved having her ears stimulated. During sex, she would turn her head and beg me to take her ear into my mouth.” I gave a little laugh. “I ended an argument one day by stepping behind her, leaning down, and nibbling her ear. She immediately grew quiet, and it took about ten seconds before she tipped her head to give me better access and told me she forgave me. Not that I needed forgiveness, but it was the end of a stupid argument.”

  Hearing that, Forever moved to my other side. She also fondled my ear. Yes, fondled. Then she tipped her head. “Lick it, and this examination is over.”

  “I wasn’t going to,” she said. “I suppose biting would be bad.”

  “Yes, biting would be bad. I think you’re teasing me. That may be a bad idea if you hope to continue this.”

  She didn’t respond, but she moved behind me, and it wasn’t long before she was kneeling, one hand examining the structure of my shoulder blade. That felt nice.

  They were… thorough. But they were also polite. It was Makiko who asked, “May I touch.”

  I had been waiting for the question. “Yes.” It was probably the hardest “yes” I’d ever given.

  She was tentative about it. I sighed and lifted one. “They don’t care for rough treatment.”

  Her hand slipped under mine. I pulled mine away, and then she was cupping me. She hefted it a little. I probably deepened my blush. It was Forever who noticed. “Humans are a little like Greygreens. They can turn red.”

  “That is caused by blood rushing to the face,” I said.

  “What causes this?”

  “Embarrassment.”

  “We’re embarrassing you.”

  “Yes, but when are you going to have another chance? And when will I? Don’t worry about it.”

  They took me at face value, which as I type, is probably an especially appropriate way to put it.

  Then Makiko touched and said, “This is how you feed young.”

  “Yes. Now remove your fingers from that particular place.”

  She snatched her hand away, and then she gently released the breast. I set my features and was happy when she moved on.

  At least they didn’t ask me to spread my legs, and I didn’t offer. But they were otherwise awfully thorough.

  But then Makiko stepped away. She helped me into undies and a new camisole. I stood still for a moment then opened my eyes. I said nothing for a moment then looked at one, then the other. “Who is first?”

  “Whoever you choose.”

  “Makiko then.”

  I took my time. We were more similar than dissimilar. Her hands and feet were jointed differently, and she had three fingers and an opposing thumb. The fingers were thicker than mine.

  She had no toes, and her feet were particularly broad. And the ankle seemed sturdier than a human’s. I found none of the delicate bones found in a human foot. I commented on that.

  “It is believed that humans evolved from species that were arboreal,” she replied. “The Greygreen home world has no trees of that stature, and only the smallest animals live amongst the branches. We have never used our feet for clasping, or if we did, it was tens of millions of years in our past, much further back than humans diverged from the other primates.”

  Her proportions were different, her lower legs shorter, her upper legs longer. Her spine didn’t have the sort of curve that a human spine has. But in spite of all these, we were also markedly similar. “We should be more different than this.”

  “There are species that are quite different,” she replied. “The purely aquatic species do not tend to become spacefaring. We know of at least six planets that evolved sentient creatures that resemble Earth spiders, although significantly larger.”

  “Eww.”

  “That is a common reaction,” Forever said.

  “There are limits to how large insects can grow,” Makiko continued. “It has to do with respiration. There is great diversity across the galaxy, but the people who came to Earth are from the Federation species that most resemble humans.”

  “So, this is only half an accident.”

  “Only half, and this basic structure has some logic behind its evolution.”

  I shifted my attention to Forever. She was much taller than I was, at least seven feet, with a powerful build, although if looking without a size comparison reference, she would appear within the realm of human standard. She wasn’t built like an Ardent, for instance, but instead far more like a very tall, athletic human, not even particularly a bodybuilder.

  I liked it, and I found myself touching her, setting my hand against an arm or her back. She held still, saying nothing, but watching me.

  There were distinct differences. Our hands were similar. She had four fingers and an opposing thumb, but I thought the range of dexterity was less than a human’s.

  Other than her size, the two most immediately obvious differences were this. She was blue, cobalt blue. “This is a striking color,” I said. “Are there variations?”

  “Yes. It becomes much darker if exposed to sufficient sunlight. This is a medium color.”

  “Where were you exposed to sunlight on the space station?”

  “It is necessary for our health, and so the lighting in my quarters and office is designed to be exactly what I need without any of the damaging portions found in raw sunlight.”

  “Different Niecor use different settings on their lights,” Makiko added, “based on the amount of clothing they typically wear.”

  “I dress sparingly, with significant exposure, covering enough for human sensitivities. This was something discussed before we departed, and we spent the voyage here adjusting some of our personal behaviors.”

  “You did that for us?”

  “We did all of this for you, but also for ourselves,” she said. “I would change none of my choices. This type of mission is exceedingly rare, one that involves so many species together. Prior to this mission, I had not so much as seen two thirds of the species living on the station. I had met even fewer.”

  “It is no different for me, although I have lived longer,” Makiko added. “Do you see?”

  “I see,” I said.

  The other notable difference: Niecor had no hair. However, she instead had two horns. They were long and slender, beginning near her forehead and lying backwards, like a crown. The two tips came together at the back of her head, and from there they wrapped around ea
ch other behind her head.

  I reached to touch, but couldn’t make it. Forever crouched down, and I ran my fingers along the horn. “These seem unusual.”

  “They are trained to lie like that,” Makiko said. “I have never seen them untrained.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “They naturally jut upwards,” Forever said, “with a slight forward curve.”

  “Making you even taller.”

  “When we are young, they can be trained,” she added. “They grow throughout our lifetime, although they can become brittle if not cared for. Some people trim them. Some people shape them in a variety of styles. I used to wear them up, but I didn’t want them catching on doorways that might be sized for a smaller species, and so I spent two years retraining them.” She gave a laugh. “I needn’t worry. Most doorways on the station are sized so a BP does not need to crouch.”

  “Doorways to individual quarters can be less lofty,” Makiko added. “My doorway is taller than a standard human doorway, but if Forever wore her horns up, she would need to be careful.”

  “So, they normally are like this?” and I gestured above my own head, using my arms like horns.

  “Much like that, if untrained,” Forever said. “But almost no one wears them that way. They are a form of expression for us, not all that different than a human who wears visible tattoos.”

  “And you can change it, but not as readily as I can change my hair.”

  “Yes, and they grow from the base, so I give them attention every week or two, helping them to lie flat like this. At the same time, I oil them so they stay vibrant and do not grow brittle. This is something Niecor lovers do to each other. It is easier to oil someone else’s horns than your own.”

  “Are they sensitive? Can you feel this?” I brushed a finger along one.

  “There is some sensation, yes,” she replied, “but it is muted.” She paused. “It feels nice.”

  “Is this something lovers do?”

  “Lovers do many things,” she replied. “I imagine if you can think of it, lovers do it. I believe that carries less meaning for you than if I were to touch some of your places in a similar fashion.”