Volunteer (Selected Book 3)

by Robin Roseau

  "Why?"

  "Because we want you to stop doing the things that we have to fix," she said. "So we made it hurt. The cleanup from the Fukushima incident would have impoverished the Japanese government. We made all the major governments pay us. Spreading the cost made it bearable. That was the most expensive thing we did. But we're not remotely done cleaning up the worst of your messes. We could have them all done by now, but we refuse to do them cheaply."

  "You're punishing us."

  "Yes. We're punishing you. Does that make you angry?"

  "No. Good. I hope the people responsible for the bad choices are the ones paying."

  "You're all paying. Your governments are the ones paying us, and they pay us through taxes. But it works out okay, because we gave you the tools to produce clean food and water for free. Your government officials seem to forget that, but economically, we're not costing you as much as it appears we are. In the long term, between food, water, and power generation, you'll be ahead. And that doesn't take into consideration how much cleaner the air is, and the resulting improvements in health for everyone."

  I thought about all that and finally nodded. "On behalf of all of us, thank you."

  "On behalf of all of us," Violet said with a smile. "You're welcome."

  "Why don't you stop the wars? Could you?"

  She offered a pained expression.

  "Is that a bad question? You don't have to answer."

  "I'm only going to give a partial answer. And I'm going to tell you not to ask about it again, not with me or with anyone else."

  "All right."

  "We stop some of it. We're keeping very careful attention on anything that can cause true catastrophe. We have destroyed a few sites that tried to produce biological weapons. There were a few companies that tried to hide what they were doing, but we found out. Don't ask how; I don't know. But we did. We destroyed those facilities and arrested the people involved. We reprogrammed them. We didn't ask permission."

  "Oh shit," I said. "Don't piss off the aliens."

  "But we don't get involved in the petty disputes. We aren't here to be the policemen of your world. There are a few things we won't allow, and we're quite harsh when someone tries to do them anyway. But humans need to learn to resolve their differences, and you won't learn if we resolve them for you."

  "I think I understand."

  "I want to be clear, Skye. There's more involved than that, and there's a good chance you'll find out what that is someday. I don't want you to think I lied to you when you find out I only told you part of it."

  "That's fine, Violet. Thank you for answering as much as you did." I smiled. "We got sidetracked, and this is a bad conversation for a date."

  "We didn't finish the money talk," she said. "I'm rich. And I know you're not exactly poor, but..." She trailed off.

  "Yeah," I said, acknowledging the situation.

  "So how to put this." She grinned. "I had to look up this term. Enjoy being a kept woman."

  I stared at her for a while then began laughing. She waited until I calmed down then said, "I made a joke of it, but are we going to be okay?"

  "We're okay," I said. "I won't worry about it."

  "I'm not going to lavish you with gifts," she said. "That's not the nature of the relationship I want. I want you to like me because you like me, not the things I buy."

  "Good," I said. "And I do like you."

  "Good." And that was the last time we talked about money.

  We sat quietly for a minute, staring at each other, holding hands, her tentacle still wrapped around my arm. The tip was playing with my skin, drawing symbols, stretching to just barely caress my ear, that sort of thing. It hadn't stopped, the entire time we talked. I leaned over and kissed it, barely able to reach.

  "Mom said something about you."

  "Oh?"

  "She actually said a number of things. But she told me to appreciate how casual you are with us."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Your roommate is normal, she says. Although I haven't met her for myself and am basing my impression on the things you've said."

  "Oh. The xenophobia. Lila is normally a good person, but I've already decided I won't room with her again next year."

  "Why did you this year?"

  "It wasn't my choice," I said. "The school places people."

  "Ah. Okay."

  "We're normally a good fit, and maybe she'd get over it if she got to know you. But she knows I come to visit my Catseye professor on these weekends away. She thinks it's weird, and she looks at me carefully when I come back. I think she worries I'm going to turn into a space alien myself."

  "Well, Mom says that's normal for humans."

  "Which mom?"

  "This time, Azalea, but Bluebell was agreeing with her. But Bluebell was the one most shocked you would kiss our tentacles, knowing what it meant. She still is, I think. She says we don't taste pleasant to a human, but you don't seem to mind."

  "You taste unusual, but not unpleasant. I've grown to like it."

  "Well, she says most humans would find our taste decidedly unpleasant."

  "There's no accounting for taste."

  "I suppose not," she agreed. "Mom says we're amazingly lucky to have found you."

  "I'm nothing special, Violet."

  "I think you're special. Posey and I are the only Catseye near our age in human space. If we want mates, they'll be human or significantly older than we are. Posey might be okay with that choice, but I'd hate it."

  "Your moms both look amazing."

  She paused. "I think that was another cultural difference."

  "You don't think they look amazing?"

  "Well, yes, but I think you're saying something different."

  "Well, maybe the other available Catseye are even older."

  "Noooo," she said slowly. "Keep going."

  "Well, what would be so bad, then?"

  "Oh. It's not the age of the body. But a Catseye twice my age willing to marry someone my age is going to expect to be exceedingly dominant in the relationship. I'd hate that."

  "Your moms seem to be equals in the relationship."

  "They are, but they're of similar ages."

  "It's based on age?"

  "No. It's personality. But with age comes maturity and wisdom. An older Catseye isn't going to marry down, you might say, unless she has a really good reason."

  "Your hot body isn't enough reason?"

  "You're the one who just said my moms look amazing. In another few years, you won't be able to judge the age difference just from looking."

  "Oh. So you want to be the dominant one?"

  "A little," she said. "But I wouldn't want to marry much younger, either."

  "Because she'd be a kid."

  Violet laughed. "Because I don't want to be that unbalanced." She paused. "We're a little unbalanced. I wouldn't want more than this."

  "So you think you can push me around, huh?"

  Her tentacle tightened, and the tip dipped down to my armpit. "No!" I screeched. This time when I reached over with my free hand to stop her, she anticipated me, and she trapped my wrist with her other tentacle. "No! Violet!"

  She laughed and released me, her tentacle climbing back to my shoulder. "I was only making a point. Did you mind?"

  I thought about it and laughed. "No, but if you had tickled me like that, I'd have gotten mad."

  "I understand, but why?"

  "Because you promised to wait, and you'd be breaking a promise."

  "So it wasn't the tickling, or the fact you couldn't stop me, but it was the broken promise?"

  "Right."

  "But did I make my point. I can push you around."

  "Can and will piss me off are two different things."

  She paused, her head cocked. "Skye, I think you're being deliberately coy."

  "Violet, I think I've never had a girlfriend, and I think I'm learning what I like."

  "Oh." She paused, then smiled. "You like when Posey
and I tickle you, and you encourage us to not let you get away."

  I smiled. "Yeah," I said dreamily. "But only when you do the nice tickles. If you were stuck with the mean tickles, I'd feel differently."

  "You may not know it, but you accept a submissive role in the way you let us hug you."

  "I do?"

  "Yes. Inviting a tentacle is submissive."

  "You've been teaching me to offer my fingers."

  "I don't want us too imbalanced, and I'm trying to teach you."

  "Oh."

  "And fingers aren't as dominant."

  "I don't have tentacles."

  "Which means I am naturally more capable of a dominant role than you are."

  "Only in Catseye terms."

  "Oh?" she tightened her grip again, just enough to remind me who was stronger. I laughed. "Does this bother you?"

  "No, Violet. But when I tell you something is important to me, you'll listen."

  "Of course." She paused. "I'm sorry, Skye, I have to talk to the human authorities now."

  * * * *

  The car came to a stop in front of the restaurant. There were large windows, and I could see groups of humans seated at tables. The tables were decorated in white linen and candles, and the restaurant seemed upscale. I decided I'd dressed appropriately.

  "It's full of humans. I'm pretty sure I don't see a single alien."

  "It's two restaurants," she said. "We'll be upstairs. The humans don't even know it's there. There's an underground entrance for the more obvious extraterrestrials, but I want to use the front entrance. I want to be seen with the most beautiful woman in the room."

  "Sorry, but you don't get that distinction. I do."

  There was a pause, and a hitch in her voice. "You think I'm beautiful."

  "Violet, I think you're stunning. I wish you didn't have to cover your eyes. They're amazing."

  "I only have to hide them a few minutes." And then in emphasis, she pulled her glasses on. I grabbed my coat and slipped it over my arms.

  Violet's tentacles disappeared, and the slits in the sides of her dressed zipped themselves. "Is the dress alien technology?"

  "No."

  "It zips itself."

  She laughed. "I have a total of eight limbs, Skye, and perhaps you have forgotten how versatile four of them are."

  "Oh. I should have thought of that."

  We climbed from the car. It began rolling away as soon as we were on the sidewalk. Violet took my arm and led me to the front door.

  We stepped inside. Everywhere I looked was rich, dark wood and indirect lighting. There were people waiting, but Violet walked us to the hostess station. "We have reservations."

  "Name?" said the man in a bored voice.

  "Dr. Beamer."

  He checked his computer and then straightened. "Of course, Doctor," he said. "It will just be a moment."

  We waited, and a woman in a black cocktail dress appeared. "Who is next?" she asked the host.

  "Dr. Beamer," he said with a gesture to us. Then he tapped the computer. The woman glanced at the computer.

  "Oh. Of course." She smiled at us. "This way, please, Doctor."

  She stepped away but looked over her shoulder to make sure we were following her. Violet kept my arm, and we followed the woman.

  "Doctor?" I whispered to Violet. "One of your moms made the reservations?"

  "No, I did."

  "Doctor?"

  "What are you asking, Skye?"

  "You're a doctor?"

  "I have an MBA and a Ph.D. in political science. I only use the title when I have to. Call me Doctor, and I'm going to break my promise to wait before I tickle you."

  I laughed.

  The woman led us through the restaurant and to a set of double doors. She had to use a card to unlock the door, and then held the door for us. Once we were through, she closed the door, ensured it was closed, and moved in front of us.

  "I must verify your identity," she said.

  Violet did so quiet easily. She removed her glasses.

  "Ah," said the woman. "Of course." But then she turned to me.

  "I'm human," I said.

  "She is authorized to be here," Violet said. "I sent authorization when I made the reservations."

  I turned to her. "I needed authorization. Who provided it?"

  "Mother Azalea." She looked back to the hostess. "Do you need to verify?"

  "Yes." The hostess looked at me. "Do you have identification?"

  I looked at Violet. "I have my school ID and driver's license, but it's from home. I didn't bring my passport."

  "Give her your driver's license."

  I didn't. I withdrew it from my little clutch and handed it to Violet. "Are you sure?"

  She glanced at it and held it out to the hostess. She took it and examined it carefully. "I don't recognize this one."

  "You should be able to scan it the same way you would scan my ID, if you were required to do so."

  The woman's eyes widened. "I have to check. I'm sorry."

  "It's fine," I said.

  "This way." She turned around, and before us was a staircase, just as elegant as everything else I'd seen so far. We climbed the stairs then came to a stop near another locked door. There was another scanner, but there was also something that looked like an iPad mounted in the wall. The woman stepped to that and worked it for a minute, finally holding my ID in front of the screen. She paused for a moment longer then turned to me, offering a tentative smile and holding out my license.

  "I'm sorry, Ms. Andrews. You understand."

  "Of course."

  "I need you to step here, please," she said, indicating a place before the tablet. "Look at the screen."

  "Of course," I offered. Violet released my arm and I stepped into position. A moment later there was a beep.

  "Thank you, Ms. Andrews."

  I stepped away from the panel, and the hostess took my place again. She turned around once more. "Identity verified. I really am sorry."

  "It's fine," I said.

  "This way." She stepped to the panel and unlocked the door, then led us through. And I knew we weren't in Kansas anymore, so to speak.

  We were in the alien section of the restaurant. The tables were arranged for privacy, with elegant dividers between them, although there were several tables in the middle that offered a little less privacy. From what I could see, there were several species in the room, and I couldn't remotely see everyone from where I stood.

  It was like an evening at Sunset, although with fewer humans.

  The hostess led us to one of the private tables, intimate seating for two. The place settings were at adjacent sides. We were seated, and she passed out menus. Then she wished us a good meal and stepped away.

  I set the menu down and turned to look at Violet. I was just in time to see the dress unzip again, and her tentacles emerged.

  "Oh, that's better," she said. "I hate having to hide them." The two nearest tentacles reached over, one spreading itself all over my back, the other up my side and around my neck, coming to a stop with the tip pointed down my dress.

  "Hey!" I complained, snatching at it.

  "I wasn't going any further."

  "I don't want you pointing at my breasts, Violet."

  "Oh," she said. "I'm sorry." She moved the tip so it was curled underneath my jaw. "Are you angry?"

  "No. I was startled."

  "I don't think of these things. I admit: I'm fascinated by them. I don't understand why you're so sensitive about them."

  "Was that criticism?"

  "No. I was admitting my ignorance."

  "Oh. I don't know how to explain it though."

  Then she smiled. "We're on a date though."

  "We are."

  "Doesn't that mean I get to play with them?"

  "No."

  "But I thought-"

  "No."

  "But-"

  "No."

  "Will you at least explain?"

  "I am not hav
ing sex on my first date ever."

  "It's not sex."

  I held up one hand, my thumb and index finger about two millimeters apart. "Letting you touch them is about this far from sex, as far as a human is concerned."

  "Really?"

  "Maybe this far." I spread my fingers only slightly further. "Okay?"

  "Okay," she said. "You're not going to let me look at them either, are you?"

  "Not on the first date," I said.

  Her tentacles sort of snuffed at me, the Catseye equivalent of a sigh. But then we grinned at each other. "Dating a human is exciting."

  "So is dating a Catseye," I said. I smiled. "So far I am enjoying our date, Violet."

  "So am I, but I'm nervous."

  "I am too. Why are you nervous?"

  "I don't know what you expect. I don't want you to be disappointed. And I keep making mistakes."

  "I bet I make mistakes, too. We're friends, Violet, and we forgive mistakes." I paused. "Your mother told me when she had expectations of me, she would tell me."

  "Right."

  "Then we should make the same agreement."

  "I fully agree. So have we made this agreement?"

  "I believe we have," I said. "So I am going to tell you my expectations."

  "All right."

  "I want you to treat me the way you wish to treat me. If there is something I don't like, I will tell you."

  "But no sex on the first date, or anything that gets this close," and she pinched her own fingers together, "to being like sex."

  "Right."

  "And on the second date?"

  I laughed. "Let's get through the first date first. And I like when you touch me."

  "I am touching you."

  "And I am encouraging you to continue." I reached up and caressed the tentacle she had under my jaw. "Does this feel nice?"

  "Yes," she said. "You can actually be quite firm with the thicker parts, but the tip is very sensitive."

  We stared into each others' eyes for a while, caressing here and there. Maybe I shouldn't have allowed so much physical attention, but it wasn't that different than the way we touched all the time anyway. And it was nice being out in public and being able to be so open.

  "This is nice," I said. "Thank you for bringing me here."

  Then she demonstrated a Catseye advantage. She picked up her menu. I had one hand caressing one tentacle, and we were holding hands on the other side, but she still had three free limbs. I stared at what she was doing. She followed my gaze. "What?"