Redeeming Factors (Revised)

by James R. Lane

  But that wasn’t exactly right.

  S’leen hesitated, then carefully said, “When you were a human I knew that you were inexperienced with H’kaah females, and that was all right. But now that you have become H’kaah—” she frowned, but it was more a sad expression than one of anger, “—I find I have been cheated out of the honor of being the first female of your adopted species that…that you-”

  My God! he thought in near panic. She’s jealous! “Dear,” he said as calmly as possible, “I think there’s something we need to clear up.” Her frown didn’t lift, but it took on a slightly confused appearance. He sighed, then said, “It’s been a long day so let’s sit on the bench under the pecan tree. I promise you this: If you don’t like what you hear you can invoke the Inneki clause and—I’ll simply go away.”

  Her frown turned into wide-eyed shock. “But…but if I do that it means our marriage never happened. How did you know—when did you learn about—?”

  “I told you that I researched H’kaah wedding information during my stay at Patrons,” he explained, “and the Inneki clause is one of the tightest-guarded bits of marriage information I’ve ever seen.” He smiled. “L’niik flatly refused to talk about it; he wouldn’t even acknowledge its existence. Luckily, I’d overheard one of the other males mention it, and since there was no other term for annulment or divorce in our language I suspected it meant something similar. I had to call in more than one favor back on the homeworld to get a straight answer, and when I did the person who told me about it swore me to secrecy. The Inneki clause is another legendary link to our pre-holocaust history, one that hasn’t been invoked by females more than a dozen times in over a thousand years. Still, if it’s what you want—” He sat wearily shaking his head, then said, “But please hear me out first, S’leen. In fact, why not tell me what you know? It might turn out that your knowledge isn’t exactly accurate.”

  She sat primly on the end of the bench, her hands fidgeting, her nose twitching nervously. “I am told that you and F’haan—” She hesitated.

  D’jiin quickly held up a hand. “Wait. Who told you? F’haan herself? Someone else?”

  S’leen looked startled, then said, “L’niik told me that—”

  “Hold it,” he interrupted, a hint of steel in his voice. “It’s true that F’haan and I shared an hour of passion in one of the conference rooms, but did L’niik tell you why we did it?” S’leen slowly shook her head and he softly snarled, “I’m gonna kick his lily-white butt from here to—” D’jiin shuddered, then carefully said, “Sorry. Someday soon he and I will have a ‘polite discussion’ on the ethics of gossip, and how it’s done—and when it’s not done. In the meantime you need to understand a few things.”

  He carefully explained his reasons for the experiment, his suspicions and his beliefs, and when he was done S’leen said, “Then you really don’t love F’haan more than me?”

  D’jiin sighed in exasperation, saying, “Dear, I interviewed twelve candidates the day I met you, and of the twelve I found myself attracted to three: F’haan, C’maat and you.”

  S’leen’s eyes grew wide again. “But…but that means you don’t really love me—” she began.

  “That means,” he firmly interrupted, “out of the twelve I found three H’kaah females personally attractive, and out of those three I chose you. As I got to know the three of you better, I realized that I had made the right choice—for all concerned. C’maat’s exotic as hell, but had I chosen her we would have quickly become unhappy with each other’s company. Tony Wilson, however, is a good emotional match for her, and I firmly believe that it won’t be too long before he’ll wind up wearing an H’kaah skin. When that happens I predict they’ll be married in a heartbeat.

  “F’haan, however, is a different story. As an angora French lop I categorize her to be as exotic as C’maat, but in a different way. Still, during the interview I realized that she was far too passive, too ‘soft’, to be a good match for me. Apparently Teddy Shapiro was looking for exactly those qualities, though, and it didn’t take long for them to sign a contract.” He scowled, adding, “Unfortunately, that’s when things started to go terribly wrong in her life.”

  S’leen thought she was beginning to understand the complex relationships her new mate had with her female friends, but with the words that followed D’jiin bounced her conclusions right out the proverbial window.

  “Right after I moved into the males’ dormitory I began hearing whispered comments about the shabby treatment she was receiving from her patron,” he grimly stated, “but our ‘encounter’ gave me the perfect excuse to question her directly.” Cold steel was evident in his voice. “What I learned prompted me to have a little ‘talk’ with our friend Teddy, and I’m pleased to report that since that time Theodore Shapiro, the public head of Patrons, has been a model patron.”

  For a long fifteen seconds she looked at the dark-furred figure sitting next to her on the bench. Then she ventured, “I, too, had heard vague rumors that F’haan wasn’t happy, but before the party the night I returned from New York she and I had not discussed it; our paths had not crossed since I left Patrons.”

  S’leen looked at D’jiin in silence while another quarter of a minute passed. “Tonight I noticed a strange pattern of red dots and bruises on Teddy’s throat,” she stated in a carefully neutral voice, “and at the same time I noticed that they seemed to be far more affectionate toward each other than I had ever seen.” She reached over and took D’jiin’s right hand in both of hers, then turned it over and bent it into the shape of a grasping, needle-tipped claw. After a few moments of study she straightened it out, brought it to her face, rubbed her cheeks with it, then brushed her silky lips across its back.

  “For her sake as well as my own,” she said, releasing it and sliding over to snuggle up against him, “I hope you never lose your predator edge.” She nuzzled his cheek, then worked her way under his chin. A moment later she sighed and literally melted against him, her hands working through the thick fur on his chest.

  He gently embraced her, enjoying her musky scent, especially around her ears. “Does that mean that you forgive me my practice session, Dear?”

  “What do you mean, ‘practice session’?”

  He chuckled, saying, “Don’t forget, this is all totally new to me. My God, S’leen, I had to be taught how to…to pee without making a mess! With so many things being so different I, well, I figured I could also justify my time with F’haan if I looked upon it as a…a ‘practice session’.” S’leen bit him. Hard. D’jiin screamed and jumped out of her grasp, then stood there rubbing his shoulder thinking dark thoughts at his new bride. Eventually his mood lightened as he wryly thought, At least she didn’t bite a nipple—or anything else equally tender. He also noticed that she didn’t look the least bit apologetic about her dental assault.

  “I understand the reasons for your research into H’kaah sexual biology,” she said evenly, “and I’m very pleased that you intervened on F’haan’s behalf to secure better treatment for her. But—”

  “But—?” he prompted. “I will have to see if your ‘practice’ taught you anything useful before I forgive you for…for—”

  “—For trying to screw F’haan’s floppy ears off?” he finished with a grin. She nodded, a faint smile tickling the corners of her mouth. “Fair enough,” he stated, then added, “Why don’t we see how well yours are attached?”

  She grinned, saying, “I thought you would never ask.”

  Chapter 17

  *Epilogue*

  Darkness covers many sins, and gives cover to a multitude of sinners. In a deep shadow near a tree just outside the wall surrounding the Ross estate, a solitary figure dressed in familiar all-black garb whispered into a diminutive 2-way radio.

  “Seven.”

  “Go,” came the low-volume, tinny reply.

  “I’m in position, and the only ones I can see are Ross’ female alien and her new ‘husband’, the big black-furred buck Lisa
Thomas has for a helper.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Listen, I’ve swept the area with everything from optical binoculars to an infrared night vision scope,” the mysterious figure patiently explained, “and the two aliens are the only living creatures I can see on the property.”

  “What do you intend to do now?”

  The observer was silent for a moment, then said, “I think it’s time to close out ‘Operation Black Jack’. Even though we lost four good men in the latest phase, their lives weren’t wasted. Everything I’ve found indicates that Jack Ross is very much dead. From what I saw when I ‘paid my respects’ at the funeral I’d say the corpse’s appearance certainly matched the reports we had of Ross’ injuries.” He laughed, then asked, “Have you gotten anything back on the skin scrape I got from the body?”

  The voice on the radio sounded puzzled. “Yes, the results from the sample arrived about thirty minutes ago. The DNA matches the blood from the used Band-Aid you got out of his trash can a couple of months ago, but there are some chemicals in the tissue itself that can’t be identified.”

  After a short pause the shadowy figure said, “Considering all the medical crap they can use nowadays to prolong a dying person’s life, it really doesn’t surprise me that you’ve found something new. I heard that for a period of time they even used questionable, unapproved medical procedures to keep him alive. Then I understand he issued a ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ order for the next time his body failed, and shortly after that it did, and he did us all a favor by dying. From the way the corpse looked our loved ones and comrades can rest in the knowledge that Ross must have suffered greatly before his death.”

  “What will you do now?”

  A quickly stifled giggle erupted from the dark figure, then he keyed the transmit button on the radio. “I worked damned hard to get where I am, and I’m making good money here, far more than I’d make back home.” He paused, then said, “What will I do now? Why, I think I’ll go back to my apartment, get a few hours’ sleep and report to work in the morning. The new model-year cars will be coming in soon, and sales should be good.”

  “What about the two aliens?” the voice on the radio asked. “Are you going to kill them?”

  The shadowy figure took one last look through the infrared night vision scope, then sighed. “Why bother? They’re just a couple of fucking rabbits.”

  * * *

  In the soft, cool grass under the edge of an ancient oak tree canopy, the dark-furred H’kaah paused momentarily in his pleasurable activity. He noted with a silent laugh that his long, black-furred ears had, indeed, been flapping up and down like the wings of a bird.

  “W-what—?” came the breathless question from his partner-in-passion.

  “Just an update, Dear, from Nelly. The day after we got back to Earth Cory upgraded her with a true ‘Artificial Intelligence’ CPU he borrowed from the Mn’rii. She keeps track of almost everything here through a network of microphones and miniature video cameras he strategically located around the property. I’ve had a tiny radio plug in my left ear all evening, and for the past ten minutes or so Nelly’s been giving me a running commentary on what one of our nasty, black-suited, two-legged roaches has been up to right outside the perimeter wall.”

  S’leen started desperately struggling beneath him and he quickly moved to calm her. “Shhh, it’s all right, Dear; the roach is crawling back under his rock. He’s convinced that Black Jack Ross is really dead, and that their particular party is finally over.” Moments later D’jiin enthusiastically resumed his pleasurable activity, which brought forth renewed squeals and passionate moans from his partner.

  He snickered, muttering, “Our boy’s even got the gall— OOF!—to report for work tomorrow—UNH!—just like he’s done—OOOH, YEAH!—for the past six months. Oh, God… Maybe I’ll tell Lisa to—OH, GOD!—go ahead and fire the little shit, Daryl Polk—UNNGH!—the next time the mood strikes—AAAAARRRGH!”

  S’leen cut loose with a loud, wordless cry, and a few moments later D’jiin gasped, “My love, was…was it better that time? Have I learned anything?”

  For several reasons—all justifiable—she bit him. Hard.

  After he stopped screaming and caught his breath he gasped, “Maybe this merits further discussion, but…but for now I’ll take that as an unqualified yes!”

  Chapter 18

  *Whispers in the Wind*

  Eeoi’ha had been closer to the truth that he thought when he speculated about the cybernetic boxes to the reborn Jack Ross, “For all we know they may possess the ability to fly to distant worlds without using ships, or—perhaps they can simply read our thoughts.”

  While the strange devices resided physically in several Mn’rii research facilities across the otter-like homeworld, the machines were, in fact, in close contact with each other through a link that no citizen of the twenty-six civilized worlds was aware of—or could comprehend. 7th level physics wasn’t something our form of life had been designed to comprehend, nor was the type of communication the cybernetic boxes utilized anything our form of life would recognize as language.

  But the four boxes did communicate, and the gist of their conversations concerned the evolving civilizations their hidden masters had created ages ago.

  And apparently still monitored.

  But, perhaps not closely enough.

  Other books by James R. Lane:

  Lifetimes

  Last Dance of the Phoenix

  Visit the Author's website

  lane-books.com

  ***

  Cover art and internal illustrations by Eugene Arenhaus.

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