by Karmon Kuhn
“I enjoy novels, but nonfiction and magazines are enjoyable as well. I most recently finished a volume of Brave New World which I found to be fascinating.” I swirled another bite of croissant in my coffee in anticipation of her answer.
“I read that in high school, and I honestly really loved it. Dystopian literatures on point. Scary sometimes. Have you read anything else by Aldous Huxley?”
“Yes,” I answered, “I also studied The Island which was an interesting read. I appreciated what Huxley considered to be a utopia.”
Another true statement, even though I knew that he was wrong. Living in a community with specialized education, access to healthcare, ample food, available work, and all other resources that I needed, I knew that the sort of free minded chaos that he’d created did not result in utopia. Not like my home.
“I haven’t read that one yet. I’ll have to check it out. Maybe we can get another coffee and talk about it after I read through it,” she said, looking up at me through her eyelashes, a submissive and tentative posture.
“Yes. I would enjoy that. I want to come here again for another chocolate croissant.”
The conversation flowed easily, and it didn’t take long for Penny to confide in me. I was unsure of whether this was due to her personality or the bonding chemicals that her body produced in response to me, but either way, it was beneficial. I learned that Penny had lost her mother to cancer, that she had no siblings but was close with her cousins, and that she deeply loved animals and children. We talked in detail about our favorite books, and she told me about many of her dreams. I was entranced by the way in which she believed that anything was possible.
“What about you?” she asked, “What do you want for your life?”
“No one has asked me that before.” I said quietly and then thought. “I never considered that I might do something other than continue studying language and possibly have a mating ceremony someday.”
“What?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.
“I mean, have a marriage ceremony.”
“Oh! That makes sense,” she answered, “You know, I think you’re the first woman I’ve met who isn’t all excited by the possibility of getting married.”
“It’s usually arranged by community leaders where I’m from and based upon reproductive capability. It’s nothing like the mat . . . I mean marriage . . . for love in books. It’s purely practical.”
“Is that what you want?” she asked, sitting back in her chair and looking somehow, disappointed.
“I never thought much about it. There is not an alternative where I’m from.”
“Well, you’re here now. There are plenty of alternatives in California,” she said, leaning forward again and placing her hand on mine.
We continued to talk, and I saw more and more signs of the bonding process. Penny’s behavior spoke volumes from the way that she leaned in close to the way that she looked up at me through her eyelashes, and the aroma was intoxicating. A smell of intense warmth and immense success.
I’m not sure how long we sat in the cafe, but at some point, the sky darkened outside and an attendant told us that they would be closing soon.
Penny’s cheeks reddened. “Oh! I’m sorry. Are you ready to head out?”
I looked at her without comprehending.
“Leave,” she broke in, “Are you ready to leave?”
“Yes,” I answered and then added, “Can I walk you to your home?”
Again, Penny’s eyes sparkled as she nodded her head. She grabbed some of the things from our table and took them to a bin near the door. What did they do with the materials?
“What process do those things go through when they are put in that bin?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Are they recycled or compacted and used for fuel or something else?”
Her brows squished together in the middle of her face. “Nothing like that. They just go to a landfill with the other trash. I don’t think this shop recycles at all.”
I could feel my eyes widen and pupils dilate. I must’ve looked strange as we walked out of the cafe because Penny didn’t speak for the first few moments of the walk.
“Those things are just wasted after a single use?” I asked.
“I guess so. Do they do things differently where you’re from?”
“Yes. Our resources are precious. Nothing is single use. Articles are reused, formed into different materials, recycled, or otherwise given long life spans. We would never fashion something, use it once, and then waste it! If we did, we would never have enough materials to survive! And, that waste would further pollute the water we live in!” I breathed somewhat heavily, and I knew that it wasn’t from the exertion of the walk.
“Do you mean, like, the island you came from?”
“. . . yes. Of course.” I said, seeing that my passionate response had nearly caused me to make a mistake.
“That makes sense,” she said. “You’ll have to show me some things that people do where you’re from.”
I was quiet for a moment. She’d caught me off guard. “You want to learn how to be less wasteful?”
“Yeah. We’ve only got one planet, and I know that we need to treat it better. I’ve just focused my efforts on how I eat for the environment. I haven’t really had much exposure to the rest of environmentalism. I’d like to learn more, if you’ll teach me.”
Chapter 6
O
nce we arrived at Penny’s home, a small squat building with doors and windows wrapped around the exterior, I was unsure of the social protocol. I sensed that her expectation, but rather than guess and choose poorly, I waved my phone at her as she’d done to me in the hospital and said, “I will send you a message!”
I turned away and nearly skipped back to the inn. Everything seemed to be going so well with the bonding! Perhaps, I could successfully retrieve the first potential tsùges̈ss with which I’d come in contact.
Back at the inn, I consumed another nutrient pack and read more about Alice’s journey. Her upside-down world was so much like my own. Everything had changed for her in an instant, and even though I’d been aware of this rite of passage my entire life, the decision to send me early, made it every bit as jarring and sudden as the descent into Wonderland. My dreams that night were filled with Cheshire cats and rabbits in coats, hopping through the tunnels of the tsez̈ø deep below the Pacific.
***
Quick raps on the door woke me. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and answered. The scent of one of my own greeted me. Another male. Shorter than Darius with a bronze complexion and smooth, shiny black hair. Even considering his size, seeing this human-in-disguise made it clear just how sickly Darius looked.
The male lifted his chin to me, and I stepped aside for him to enter and then closed the door behind him. “Have you come with my learning credentials?”
“Yes. I am Ali. If you are in need of future materials, I will likely provide the delivery. You can gain access to the learning facility with this card, but do not draw attention to yourself.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Here are more bills.” He held them out to me and then pulled them away. “Do not spend them so quickly.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Have you made contacts yet?”
“Yes. I have met with, Darius, a fellow tsuṣuṣe.”
“Darius? I do not know that name. Are you certain that it is correct?”
“Yes. He is also present at this lodging. He offered me some funds while I waited for more. He told me that the instructor had asked him to do so.”
Ali scrunched his brows at me and puzzled. “I see. What else do you require?”
“I am not in any other need at this time. Thank you.”
He turned to leave and then looked back at me before he opened the door, “Be careful, Natalie. Do not trust easily. This world is a dangerous place.”
Before I could
respond, he was gone.
***
A few days later I met with Darius again. I learned that a new female had shown real interest and then reportedly ceased contact.
“They are heathens,” he said, “Just as we were taught! Even though they think that they are civilized they prize nothing of importance. Neither health nor each other nor the planet!”
“Do you find this to be true of all of the humans with which you have interacted?” I queried.
“Yes. They are barbaric. Are you surprised by this? You’ve been addressed inappropriately yourself. What of that? Have you not had other experiences of their cruelty? Their waste? Their selfish burdensome lifestyles?”
His eyes were narrowed as he watched me and waited for my response. I thought of the refuse receptacles at Mug and Muffins and the rude behavior of the hotel attendants. But then, I thought of Penny’s offer to learn more and the doctor’s nurturing. As little respect as I had for humans, I didn’t hate them.
Trying to change the subject, I asked, “Do you have any other prospects for your tsùges̈ss?”
Before he answered, Darius lingered on the unanswered questions and then broke eye contact. “Yes, I believe so. I must be sure to find where this one resides so that I can make myself frequently visible and available to try and expedite the process.”
“Have you been instructed to retrieve only females as well? If so, do not forget to assess for natural born sex. Many humans express gender fluidly. You do not want to rush and bring home an unusable tsùges̈ss.”
“You act as though I am the new trialist, when it is you! What have you come to me for if it is not questions?!” he asked, clearly indignant.
“Have you any experience at the college? My potential tsùges̈ss attends, and I have student documentation to get closer to her. However, I am not entirely familiar with the environment and expectations.”
“All that I know is to be wary. While education standards are laughable, there are some bright humans at the colleges who might become suspicious of you.”
“Thank you, fellow. I appreciate that advice. Have you any other suggestions?”
“Yes. Should you mount a woman, do not let her leave you thereafter? Take her then, unless you want the savage to disappear!”
***
Despite the urgency of the mission, I took time to acclimate, so I spent a few days learning to purchase food and other supplies rather than rushing into more contacts. I practiced conversations with the humans I met. Some were pleasant, others short, and others even unpleasant, but there was value in each conversation. I especially liked the “text messages” that Penny sent me. Photos of cats or thoughtful check-ins to find out about ‘my day’. After I’d become a bit more comfortable with my social skills, I decided to take on the challenge of the university. While things with Penny were still developing nicely, I had to explore options available at this resource.
To ready myself, I cleaned, dressed, and adorned my body for the day. After dressing, I organized my things in the satchel, and as I did so, felt a rumbling from my core. I was definitely getting hungry and would need to remember that regular mealtimes thrice per day were common for the humans here. I wanted to be sure not to stand out for improperly following common eating patterns.
I’d passed a ‘diner’ near the inn several times that advertised eggs in the window and was excited that these humans prepared one of my favorite foods. When I crossed the street toward the restaurant, I got a strange prickle on the back of my neck. I stopped for a moment. What did it mean? Before I could find an answer, a horrific noise blared at me from a nearby vehicle. I ran the rest of the way to the diner to escape the machine and forgot all about the tingle I’d felt.
At the diner, a hefty human, a woman I thought from the sweet undertone of her natural smell, approached me. I was getting better at detecting the difference between the sexes. There were anomalies, but for now, I was satisfied with my progress. She showed me to a table, handed me a folded, plastic list of food items, and asked, “What’ll you have?”
Breathless, still recuperating from my run to the restaurant, I replied, “Eggs.”
This created a list of options for which I was unprepared. “Scrambled, over-easy, over-hard, sunny side up, or an omelette?”
“Those are all eggs?”
“Yup. How will you have ‘em??”
“Please choose what you like best.” I requested.
“Comin’ right up!” she said.
As I waited for my eggs, I watched the street from the diner window and mentally reviewed my objectives. I would need to familiarize myself with the campus, learn Penny’s general schedule and habits, and assess the risk of discovery from instructors and students at the college. It was a big day.
Once my food arrived, I was surprised at how it was prepared. It looked nothing like my people’s eggs, usually just raw or heated slightly in the shell. These had no shell at all and were a single color in fluffy mounds. They had a strong odor, and for a moment, I questioned whether or not I was bold enough to eat something that created such a stench.
I’d always loved eggs, however, so I took a piece between my fingers and brought it to my lips. As soon as the jiggly mass hit my tongue, I regretted it. Pressure rose in my throat and my body involuntarily pushed the bite from my mouth. It landed with a plop onto my plate, and the noise that came from deep down alerted many of the guests to my episode.
My eyes opened wide as I regarded all of the attention in the restaurant. I slumped down in my chair and looked at the other things on the plate. There were crispy brown strips and golden triangles with something melted on them. The eggs were absolutely revolting, but these other things might be alright.
Each of them was salty, fatty, and delicious, and my focus on them slowly replaced the embarrassment of my scene. Between bites of the oily, crunchy meat product and crisp, fatty triangles, I looked around the restaurant to see if anyone was still watching me. It seemed that everyone had moved on with their meals.
The views were quite interesting: an old man with graying hair drinking cup after cup of dark liquid and staring ahead in deep thought, children playing with brightly colored toys and making noises mimicking their real life functions, and the hefty woman asking questions, smiling, scowling, and stretching her body in between conversations.
But, my favorite was the couple; the way they showed their teeth with their lips spread across their faces, how they tilted their heads and displayed their most vulnerable parts, the constant physical touch of hands to face to arms to chest to thighs. There was something to it beyond just a mating ritual. Their connection was palpable. I revisited the spectacle over and over again as I ate, taking mental notes.
Chapter 7
O
n campus, I’d planned to attend some courses, but my device buzzed with a message from Penny as soon as I’d arrived.
Penny: Want to get lunch?
Natalie: Yes. Where should we meet?
Penny: I’m at the commons on campus. Meet me here?
Natalie: Yes. I will be there soon.
Even though I’d not attended classes, I’d walked the campus in the past week, so I knew how to find the ‘commons’. I walked to the central building and there was another prickle on my neck just like the one earlier. I placed my hand against the skin. The fine hairs there were raised. I had the strange sensation that someone was watching me, but there was no evidence to support it. Many people surrounded me, but no one paid me any special attention. As I approached Penny outside the doors of the common area, I put the fear away for another time.
For this meal, I insisted that I pay, but I still let her choose what we had. Rather than a flaky confection, we had a collection of whole plant matter with a sauce on top. She called it a burrito bowl. I was delighted to find that it was as delicious as it was colorful.
The conversation was every bit as pleasant and thought-provoking as the previous two h
ad been, and I found that Penny laughed easily and exhibited warm body language toward me by revealing her neck and chest and even placing her hand on my forearm a few times. Having not had any experience with mating practices personally, I was nervous that I’d need to perform more reciprocation, but at that point, light touch and smiling seemed to be enough. And, the skin-to-skin was clearly having its effect.
After we ate, Penny showed me a few of her favorite spots near campus. A candy shop full of treats was the first stop. From the floor to the ceiling were neon sweets and what she called chocolates. She pointed and described several as ‘to die for’.
Next door was a clothing store full up with bright adornments of all kinds that Penny pointed out saying that if I needed a coat for when things got windy, I could get one there. I made a mental note to check into ‘coats’ as a possible vital piece of clothing.
Lastly, we ended up in a small area filled with flora: incredibly tall trees; soft, green tendrils of plant-life on the ground; colorful blooms. She took off her shoes as we stepped onto the soft ground, and as soon as I mimicked the behavior with my own boots, I understood. It was soft on the bottom of my tender feet.
We walked to a quiet spot and sat there and talked more. She told me about her dream of taking care of people and shared that her mother had been a nurse before she’d passed away. She deeply regretted having no skills to use in support of her dying mother and had clearly decided to pursue penance in her career. Her eyes had startling sincerity in them as she spoke.
It moved me to take her hand, and I was surprised to hear myself say, “You’re a good person, Penny.”
Her cheeks got hot and pink, and she looked away from me for a moment. I was afraid I’d upset her, so I opened my mouth to find an appropriate response. But, before I could, she looked up at me, placed my hand over her heart, and leaned forward, letting her lids close.
Her lips pressed lightly against mine. I closed my eyes. Even though I’d never had such intimacy with one of my own kind or with a human, the action felt comforting and natural, and I was wholly enveloped by the moment.