Gladiolus had her head in her hands again, but Vasiht’h could just see the smile her palms hid. “They don’t want to have sex with everyone, arii. That’s just…”
“An urban myth? I like those.” Kristyl brightened as a waiter came by with their food: an enormous bowl of coconut-crusted prawns on a bed of something that looked like it involved diced mango, along with a mound of sweetly fragrant rice tossed with some kind of dark green leafy vegetable. “But I didn’t think that was an urban myth. More like… a Pelted legend!”
“Just as long as you don’t expect all Harat-Shar to have sex with you, you’re fine,” Vasiht’h said. “They’re not all alike, you know.”
Kristyl darted him a merry look, like she was sharing a secret. “I had no idea. I thought, you know, point of cultural pride! Besides, I’m human, don’t I qualify as an exotic experience?”
Gladiolus moaned under her hands.
Vasiht’h said to Kristyl, “You try to make her do this, don’t you.”
The human ladled a healthy serving of the dish onto Vasiht’h’s plate. “She’s way too worried about what other people think of her. I’m just helping with that. You know.”
“I do.” Vasiht’h glanced at the Asanii. “So, how did the two of you meet?”
“On Terra—” Gladiolus paused, glancing at her friend with a soft, bemused smile. “I guess the whole ‘never been off-planet’ thing gave that away, though?”
“Possibly,” Vasiht’h said, over a forkful of the dish, which was savory and tangy and sweet in ways he instantly wanted to deconstruct. The coconut milk was obvious. Was the peppery taste solely the mango, or had they added something to intensify it? “But I never let that kind of thing get in the way of a good story.” He thought of Rexina Regina and all his sisters’ endless commentary. “Anyway, I like spoilers.”
Kristyl guffawed. “Me too.”
Ignoring them, Gladiolus continued. “Right, so, I went to Terra, because my field of study was history and I wanted to really understand the Rapprochement.” The Asanii stirred her drink absently until the colored layers broke and made whorls against the glass. “There was a Study Abroad program at my university on Asanao that would send you to live on Earth for a couple of years, and you’d tour the important sites there, and on Mars, and visit the Moon and all the places with historical significance both prior to our arrival and during the events of the Rapprochement. And it was really fascinating.”
“That’s how she met me,” Kristyl agreed. “I was at the university that hosted the Study Abroad program and she got assigned to my dorm room.” She beamed. “It was love at first sight.”
Vasiht’h glanced at the Asanii curiously, found her blushing brightly at the ears.
“I’m allowed to say that, right?” Kristyl said. “Cross-species friends forever stuff isn’t weird once you’re out of the sticks? Besides, he’s a Glaseah, they’re supposed to get that sort of thing.”
Gladiolus reached over and put her hand on the human’s wrist, squeezed. “It’s always all right to say that sort of thing, because it’s true.” She sighed, sheepish. “Although, yes, he’s probably not going to misinterpret it. Sometimes I think you say things just to be outrageous.”
“On purpose?” Kristyl gasped dramatically. “Would I do that?”
“Even I know you’d do that,” Vasiht’h said, and made them both laugh.
“Anyway, ever since we’ve been doing things together,” Gladiolus said. “And we just graduated, so I thought… why don’t we do some outrageous thing to celebrate?”
“I’m rich,” Kristyl said, unperturbed, reaching for the bowl to reload her plate.
“She is!” Gladiolus said. “She’s paying for everything!”
“Paying for everything’s fun.” Kristyl licked her fingertips of some of the coconut sauce and resumed eating. “Also, I love the way she has to tell everyone that, because everyone thinks all humans are poor. Kind of like everyone thinks all Harat-Shar want to have sex with everything.”
“Is this the part where I act shocked and say ‘wait, not all humans are poor?’” Vasiht’h asked, bemused.
“Sure!” Kristyl said. “And then I say, ‘nope, some of us are filthy rich! Like me!’” She laughed. “I admit, I really like people’s reactions to that, because people really do think we’re all poor. I bet you’re thinking it too: ‘wait, a rich human? That doesn’t happen! How did that happen!’” She pointed her fork at Vasiht’h. “And I’ll tell you how. Construction. My family’s been in construction for generations. And Terra needed a lot of it.” She sucked on her straw and ahhed. “Anyway. I’m a trust fund baby and that’s okay, because I’m going to use my powers—my filthy rich powers—for good.”
“Like taking your best friend to a ridiculously overpriced resort planet as a graduation gift,” Gladiolus said fondly.
“Exactly. Exactly that.”
“So, are you shocked, just shocked at the rich human?” Kristyl asked cheerfully.
“No,” Vasiht’h admitted. “I was more wondering how Gladdie feels about being your plus one.”
“I love it,” Gladiolus said, laughing. “I would never have seen any place like this without Kristyl.”
“See, I think that’s fair, because I would never have seen any place off Earth without her,” Kristyl said. “I had the money, but I would have felt weird without a friend to tour it with. And to apologize for me.” She grinned at the Asanii, who grinned back.
“So tell us about you and your friend?” Gladiolus said.
“Oh,” Vasiht’h said, guessing how this would go. “He’s an Eldritch.”
“WHAT!” Kristyl howled. “Oh my amazing GOD, I can’t even imaaaaagine do we get to see him? Are they as unreal as they are in pictures? Do they have sex with anything because I’d love to!”
“Kristyl!”
“Sorry, not sorry,” Kristyl pressed her hands to her cheeks. “But are you serious??”
Vasiht’h was trying hard not to laugh. “I am, yes. And yes, I’ll tell you the story.”
“Oh thank goodness.” Kristyl waved the waiter over. “Thank you so much for delicious food please bring us more of these colored drinks!” She slurped the last of hers. “We’re going to need it, so need it for this, I just know it.”
“A human,” Jahir repeated, bemused. “And an Asanii.”
“Are dying to meet you,” Vasiht’h answered, the mindline bubbling with mirth that tasted like… some kind of fruit-flavored cocktail? Jahir licked his teeth, trying to identify flavors he hadn’t actually tasted. Apricot? Peach? Lime? “And I’m not sure that’s hyperbole, either. If you’d rather not have them fawning over you I’ll make sure we’re conveniently unavailable when you’re done with your test.”
“You like them,” Jahir guessed, from the effervescent pleasure washing through the mindline.
“Oh, they’re fun.” The Glaseah laughed, watching him change into something less stifling for their trip down the beach to the performance. “I’ve agreed to gad around with them while you’re busy. It’s better than doing everything by myself. There’s only so many calls I can log to my sister before she throws a pillow across interstellar space at me.”
Jahir glanced at him. “You are not lonely?”
“Not even!” Vasiht’h sat up. “Don’t think that, not for a moment. If I don’t like something about this situation, I can easily change it. Like I did, deciding to do things with these two. If I hadn’t met them, it would have been someone else.” He chuckled. “The way Kristyl accretes people, it might end up being several more someone elses, even.”
“She has a way about her,” Jahir guessed, finding the mindline cryptic when he sought impressions of the two.
“Ridiculously, yes.” Vasiht’h squinted. “You sure you want even that much by way of clothes? It’s hot out.”
“I shall burn without it,” Jahir said. “And when the sun goes down, the breeze will be cooler.”
“I guess that’s true.” Vasih
t’h rose to follow him out the door. “How did the testing go?”
“It was not difficult.” After the grueling experiences on Seersana, pushing his degree through in as little time as possible, and then the gauntlet he’d run in Heliocentrus, Jahir’s grasp on matters medical had become nigh instinctive. Learning additional material during his correspondence courses had been pleasure, not difficulty, and being tested on them felt like a leisurely ride under sunlight. Exertion, but satisfying. “I believe I will not waste our time.”
“I never thought you would,” Vasiht’h answered, fond. “Anyway, music now, and food. And colored drinks.”
Jahir sampled the mindline again. “That taste of fruit.”
“They make them in layers, so if you drink them with a straw you go through different flavors! If you stir them, though, it tastes like fruit punch. And doesn’t turn brown, and I’d like to know how they manage that.”
“I did not know you to love alcohol,” Jahir said, bemused.
“I didn’t either, until they put umbrellas in it.” Vasiht’h laughed. “They all come in non-alcoholic versions, though. The ones without them are mostly sugar. A lot of sugar, granted, though without the crash, and that’s another thing I wonder about. This place is apparently magical.”
“Speaking of magic, we should spend some time on the station when we’re done,” Jahir said as they strolled down the path toward the beach, where the sun was staining the sky orange near the horizon. “There are marvels there you would appreciate.”
“Oh?” Vasiht’h glanced up at him.
“Also, interesting food.”
Vasiht’h laughed. “Then of course we’ll have to make a point of stopping on the way out. But really, look at this.” He stopped in front of the beach, spreading his arms. “Those colors. How do they even do that without clouds?”
“It is rather mysterious.” Jahir paused alongside him, facing into the breeze, and lifted his head to feel it on his face. He felt his partner still and do the same, savoring the sensation not just on his own cheeks, but on Jahir’s as well, so much more sensitive without the fur. “It is beautiful here.”
“I love it,” Vasiht’h said. “Obviously I should have lived by the ocean all my life. It’s too bad the starbase doesn’t have one.”
“Not in the city-sphere, certainly. Perhaps one day we will live someplace like this.”
“Maybe,” Vasiht’h said. “Anyway, we’re going that way.”
That way involved a knot of people on the beach, and eventually resolved into a demonstration of firedancing while accompanied by a choir so tightly rehearsed they seemed to have a single voice. The sight of the dancers, silhouetted by the setting sun as they leaped with their flaring staves, was mesmerizing.
“How fortunate we are,” Jahir said to Vasiht’h on the way back to their room.
“Aren’t we just,” Vasiht’h replied, contented.
Chapter 10
When Vasiht’h found Kristyl and Gladiolus the following morning, the human had in fact acquired more hangers-on: an entire gaggle of them, in the form of six Harat-Shar, milling around her, chattering.
“Look!” Kristyl exclaimed, arms raised. “New friends! I found them last night by asking if they wanted to have sex with a rich human.”
“We said yes!” one of the Harat-Shar crowed, a golden-eyed male with a grin Vasiht’h swore stretched from ear to ear.
“And then I said I was kidding,” Kristyl continued, pushing her sunglasses up. “And they were all disappointed and it was so sweet that we danced all night. Even Gladdie danced!”
“There were so many of them, it seemed rude not to,” Gladiolus muttered, but she was smiling too.
“We met at the blacklight rave,” the human finished. “We didn’t see you there! Not your thing, I’m guessing, with an Eldritch as a friend. Do they dance?”
“I don’t know,” Vasiht’h admitted. “But I admit a rave would be one of the last places I’d take him.”
“I bet!” She beamed. “Anyway, this is…” She pointed in turn. “Tati, Misha, Nikita—those are both boys, by the way—Bassam, Khadija, and Nasira!” As the human said their names, they lined up and posed, leaning on one another, swooning, flexing or spreading their arms in a ‘ta-da’. Five of them were related, Vasiht’h judged, sandy-coated lynxines with tufted ears and bright eyes in either gold or green, but Nasira was a zaftig snow pardine, gray-eyed and sleek. Also, hot, because she wasn’t even wearing the abbreviated things that passed for clothes on the others, preferring to go in the fur except for an orange hibiscus tucked in her mane. “They want to go with us over the bridge today! You still want to come?”
Vasiht’h laughed. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Hooray!” Kristyl pointed. “Onward, everyone!”
The Harat-Shar hooted and spilled toward the beach, and Kristyl jogged after them. Vasiht’h fell into step alongside Gladiolus. The Asanii also had a flower, a white lily behind her ear that matched the breezy white gauze robe she was wearing over her white bikini, which was more abbreviated than yesterday’s swimsuit but more modest still than Kristyl’s “strings and triangles” edition. Gladiolus’s expression hadn’t changed since yesterday: bemused resignation. Vasiht’h wondered if it was permanent by now and hid his smile. “I guess this is typical of her.”
“It really is. I don’t know how she does it. She just… explodes into a place with the most outrageous comments and somehow people don’t get offended? Or at least, not as many people do as I think really should.” The Asanii shook her head. “I don’t know how she does it. It’s like she distorts reality around her.”
“It makes you wish you could get away with some of the same things, doesn’t it?”
The Asanii glanced at him, wide-eyed. And then she laughed, hesitant. “Oh, Stars, is it obvious?”
“It’s natural,” Vasiht’h said. “And I think it’s good. The alternative would be to hate her for it, or be jealous. Wanting to be like her is far more positive.”
“I guess so,” Gladiolus said. “I certainly wouldn’t want her to change. She’s crazy but she’s perfect the way she is.”
‘And you love her,’ is how that ended but Vasiht’h didn’t feel the need to say it. He just smiled as they left the resort’s boundaries for the path to the bridge. In front of them the Harat-Shar had started an impromptu skipping contest and were dancing in circles around Kristyl, who was blowing bubbles from a vial she wore as a necklace. “That,” he said, “was a perfect thing just waiting to happen.”
“Kristyl and Harat-Shar? Oh, Stars, yes,” Gladiolus said, chuckling. “The only surprise is that it took so long to happen.”
“And that there was no all-night orgy?” Vasiht’h wondered.
The Asanii shook her head. “She’s not interested, I don’t think. Or if she is, she’s waiting for something.”
Vasiht’h looked over at her surreptitiously, but Gladiolus was looking ahead, smiling at the raucous laughter.
He would have to ask Sehvi later just how oblivious he was most of the time. And wondered if Gladiolus liked romance novels.
The Bridge of Dreams was as fantastical as its literature. More, because it was a real thing that felt like something out of a story, an impression fixed in Vasiht’h’s mind forever because his first sight of it was of six Harat-Shar and a human gamboling onto it and their footfalls beating out a glorious swirl of rising notes as rainbows broke around their bodies. He stopped short alongside Gladiolus as the seven of them gleefully noticed the results and started whirling one another around, Kristyl bouncing in the center blowing bubbles that reflected the colors.
“I am never going to forget this for the rest of my life!” Gladiolus breathed, wide-eyed.
“You and me both,” Vasiht’h answered. “Come on, let’s add us to the memory.”
The bridge’s planks floated just above the water. Vasiht’h thought it should have disturbed him given they were almost perfectly transparent, but when he stepped,
a blot of colored light spread from around his paw, briefly illumining the edges of the bridge and each of its planks. It made him feel magical, as if he had the power to command energy just by walking. And music… what would his musician partner think of this place? Vasiht’h chuckled. Better to ask how long he would spend walking back and forth, trying to understand it!
As he followed the impromptu Harat-Shar dance party, he grew accustomed to the glow and could enjoy the sight of the fish darting beneath him more. The edge of the bridge was lined in a rim of lights, so he never worried about accidentally falling off. And the weather was sublime; halfway across the span, the bridge rose ten feet off the water, feeding into a pavilion built entirely of force fields and light, like something out of a fairy tale. There one could stand and see the island, the mainland, and the vast expanse of blue ocean, reflecting a cloudless sky so deep Vasiht’h felt like he could fall upward into it and swim until he left atmosphere.
He was still staring up when Kristyl joined him. He expected her to break the silence, so of course she didn’t, because she seemed to enjoy playing with people’s expectations. It made him smile and glance at her. “It’s amazing.”
“Isn’t it? And to think we made all this!”
“We… did?”
“We did,” she clarified, fisting a hand and pointing its thumb at her chest. “Humans, I mean. Oh, I don’t mean this world in particular. But we made you Pelted, and you Pelted made this place, which means without humans this would never have happened.”
Vasiht’h chuckled. “You’re right. But I bet no one is comfortable with you when you say that kind of thing.”
“Oh no, everyone hates it,” she agrees. “Pelted because it implies that humans were right to make them—even though none of them would argue that they’d prefer to be alive right now than not alive at all!—and humans because half of them hate themselves for doing it badly and the other half hate themselves for doing it at all.” She shook her head, tsked. “It’s like no one ever learned to look at things as they are and say ‘yeah, that. That’s the thing, right there.’”
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