by Nikki Clarke
Qim nods, seriously, his fingers moving quickly to add her explanations. I’ve been listening to all that Amina has said, but mostly I’ve been watching her. When she was in her resting period, I had many days to observe her without her shying away or becoming embarrassed. In that time of caring for her, I came to know everything there is to know about my lehti. All of the small intricacies that make her unique and beautiful.
Right now she’s frowning. Beneath her little arched brow is the tiny dark beauty mark I traced with my finger over and over while waiting for her to wake up. Just above the full, roundness of her cheeks, I can see the faint bit of blood rushing to her face. She’s embarrassed again.
“I feel like all of the stuff I’ve been telling you is bad stuff. Like ways of being mean. Humans aren’t the nicest bunch, I guess. Americans, especially, can be pretty critical. Maybe don’t put corny in there.”
Qim laughs and reaches out to cover Amina’s hand with his own. Her eyes flick up to me, and I smile. Every time Qim touches her, she gets nervous. Perhaps she believes I may be jealous that she finds my friend attractive. She does not realize yet that the leht doesn’t allow for such feelings. She is my heartbeat, and I am her’s forever. Another handsome man won't change this.
“All language is useful, sa’qi. We do not judge. I am sure these kind of words have their uses on Earth.”
Amina’s eyes widen and roll off to the side. It’s a new a funny gesture. Both Qim and I laugh.
“Yeah, but, geesh, it makes us seem so boo.”
“What is ‘boo’?” he asks before I can.
My lehti’s beautiful, cackling laugh bursts from her throat. My eyes shift up the curved line of her neck when she angles her head back.
“You guys are so funny. Boo is just a general sound that means not good or satisfactory. So English is cool, but some of the meanings can be a little boo. Got it?”
We both nod. Qim’s eyes seem to linger on Amina’s face for a moment. He frowns, slightly.
“Do you have any sisters, Amina?”
“I sure do. Two. Why?” Her mouth pulls up at one corner, but her brows are drawn in a curious frown.
“You are lovely. I would know if there are other women like you in the universe.”
“Oh, uh, thanks.”
Her brown skin tinges with red, and she looks over to me, her mouth pulling down in another, strange smile-frown that accompanies the scent of embarrassment. Apparently, my lehti feels shy when anyone offers her a compliment.
I stand from my desk where I’ve been programming the small chip that will help Amina translate Lyqa to English and go over to where she sits with Qim, still trying her best to avoid his fascinated gaze.
Human women aren’t a species many Lyqa would have the opportunity to interact with on any level of intimacy. Even trips to Earth for ta’ani maul require a certain avoidance of interaction. I know how enthralled I was by Amina’s wit and charm when I finally had the opportunity to speak with her. I understand why Qim feels the same way.
“Lehti, let me fit your translator. It will not help you speak Lyqa, you will need a more invasive procedure for that, but it will help to translate what you hear.”
I lean down to Amina, but she angles her head away when I reach out for her.
“Is it going to hurt?” Her heart beats fast. She eyes my finger where the chips rests on the tip warily.
“Do you believe I would hurt you?”
Her body automatically relaxes as she answers. “Not if you didn’t have to.”
“Then come. Do not worry yourself unnecessarily.”
She tilts her head to the side when I press my fingers to her chin, giving me access to the space behind her ear where the chip will go. I press the small, square of biomaterial to her skin and hold until it bonds. Amina bravely lets me finish, although I hear her breathing pick up slightly.
“It is finished,” I say and sit next to her, pulling her against me. I lean in an whisper into her ear.
Amina
“I love you, my most honored and treasured beat.”
The English translation of Kwarq’s Lyqa is like a whisper through my subconscious as his declaration floats into my ear. My body does a little shiver, and I squeeze his hands where they rest on my belly.
“I love you, too, babe.”
I see a slight shift out the corner of my eye and remember that we are not alone. Qim watches us with that fascinated look he had earlier. I clear my throat and ease away from where Kwarq is pressing soft kisses along my neck.
“So say something to me in Lyqa, so I can make sure this thing works, properly.”
Qim’s mouth pulls into a smile as he tilts his head to the side.
“What would you have me say, sa’qi.”
That’s what he says, but when it gets to the Lyqa part, my translator kicks in, and I hear: respected and valued friend.
“Wait, what does ‘sa’qi’ mean?”
“Friend,” Kwarq supplies at my ear.
“Uh, that’s not what I heard.”
“It is a rough translation.”
“So what’s the literal translation?”
He pauses for a moment to think about it. “Respected and esteemed acquaintance, perhaps?”
“That one word means all of that?”
“The sentiment is implied in the word, itself,” Qim explains. “Does ‘friend’ not mean the same in English?”
I chuckle a little. “Uh, no. Friend just means friend. Like someone you know and like, a little. I guess you can have a best friend, that might be like a si’qa. Or like your people. Not people meaning all of human race, but like the ones you keep close and love. Like your boos.”
“I thought ‘boo’ meant unsatisfactory?” Qim looks confused again.
“Well, it does, but when you talk about people, your boo is like the person you love, your partner, or a friend you cherish. Like Kwarq is my boo. Or my bae, but you only use that for your lover or romantic interest.”
“Aaaah!”
Both Kwarq’s and Qim’s voices are a chorus of awe-filled understanding. I laugh and shake my head a bit then ease out of Kwarq’s hands to lean back over the table with Qim.
“I have so much to teach you guys. We might as well get to work.”
Chapter 23
Amina
“Oh. My. God. Kwarq, this is trash!”
I don’t know why I bother whispering. It’s not like every single Lyqa in the theater can’t hear me. We spent more time at Kwarq’s office than we anticipated, so instead of meeting his parents at the market, we had to meet them at the movies. If this travesty can even be called that. Did I say that Lyqas were extra? Because Lyqas are so extra.
“I told you,” Kwarq’s sing-songy whisper is a caress in the dark.
We occupy a row in a large viewing room that closely resembles an opera house back on Earth. The film being shown is displayed as a large projection at the front of the room, and it’s the worse film I’ve ever seen. I’m talking horrible acting, terrible script, and surprisingly bad special effects. These people can transport across galaxies in an instant, but I can clearly see blood squibs during death scenes.
“You said they were bad. This is horrible! How can you even compare this to Earth movies?”
Lyqa theaters aren’t nearly as dark as human theaters, so I have no problem seeing the flash of disbelief in Kwarq’s yellow eyes.
“Are you serious? Lehti, you routinely paid to sit through hours of teenagers falling in love with vampires. This,” he waves his hand at the projection, “is cinematic genius compared to that. And,” he adds after a moment, “it is free.”
A lot of things are free on Lyqa. Healthcare, public transportation, childcare, and really crappy movies. The first three are amazing, and just another testament to the altruism of Kwarq’s people, the last is a mercy. No one should have to pay for this shit.
As we speak, the male lead of this “romantic comedy” is dying a dramatically over the top dea
th on the screen. He clutches at his chest, falling to his knees. My translator converts everything to English, so I can understand what’s happening. I wish it didn’t. In the few hours I’ve had been able to understand Lyqa, I’ve realized it’s extra as hell. Like completely over the top. I cringe when the dying man on the screen gasps out a final farewell to his…veins?
“It is lost in translation,” Kwarq murmurs into my ear. He must see my confusion.
“Clearly.”
His chuckle is loud. His mother leans over and slaps her hand against the back of his head. I guess mothers are the same everywhere. Kwarq ducks under the blow and rubs his hand over the spot. I slap my hand over my mouth to keep from cracking up. Somewhere behind us, a shush sounds out. I duck further in my seat, although I don’t have to. The seats are so much larger than me, that from the back, I’m sure it looks like mine is empty.
“You are going to have to make that up to me.”
I turn to look at him, and his eyes flicker like little torches in the dim light. Suddenly it feels like the room is too warm. Aside from his little kisses at his office, it’s been forever since he looked at me with anything but concern. Even our nightly reinforcements are functional and to the point. But if this is an invitation.
I look away from him and back to the screen. He does the same after a moment. Slowly, I slide my hand into his lap and immediately feel him stiffen.
“Lehti…”
It’s a low warning, but I ignore it and cup my hand over his crotch, squeezing firmly. He grunts and shifts in the seat.
“Make it up like this?”
He immediately starts to get hard under my hand. The loose fit of his shorts provides more than enough room for him to grow to his full length. I release my own little breath when I feel him thicken and pulse beneath my fingers.
“I’ve missed you,” I whisper, turning to him, willing him to look at me, but he doesn’t. His jaw is clenched, and his hands grip the armrests of the seat.
“Lehti, please.”
“You know we can hear you, right?”
Bati leans down from where he sits on my other side and stage whispers. Of course they can. I wish for once, they would pretend like they can’t.
I roll my eyes and pull my hand back. Kwarq exhales loudly and slumps down in his seat. My heart is beating fast with his. My pussy tingles against the cushy seat. Bati takes in a breath and then jerks away, turning back to the screen. In the flickering light of the projection, I can see his dark skin pulse a bright red.
Kwarq
I haven’t touched my lehti since she came out of her resting period. Though I know it was necessary for her body to heal and adjust to her pregnancy, it didn’t stop the nearly paralyzing fear that gripped me each day she remained asleep.
Even when the healer came to our house and assured me that she was well and our babies were healthy, the idea that I would lose her was still ever present in my mind. I’d watched over her with the greatest attention, bathing and massaging, so her body would not waste away. Providing her nutrients so that she could maintain her strength. Every night, I’d held her close, letting her feel my love for her, easing our babies. Pleading with them to rest and grow well.
I cannot explain the joy I felt the moment she woke up. In the week since, she has been stronger than ever. The fatigue that plagued her after she first conceived is gone. She eats heartily and as often as she wants. I don’t sense any vulnerability in her form, and some of the worry I felt before has lessened. I feel confident that she will be safe from here out.
Watching her flourish with our children has only made me want her more. Her hormones are a concentrated signal to my first heart to make love to her. And even though every night we join so I can give her my semen, the act holds none of the passion I think either of us would like. Just last night, I noticed the tight passage of her pussy softening as moved within her. She’d turned her head away in embarrassment, but had not been able to stop the soft moans that filled my ears each time I sank deep inside of her. Even I had felt the slight shift in the moment when our act became less perfunctory act of necessity and more slippery with desire. I can’t fight it anymore. I want her. She is past the point of danger, there is no need to wait any longer.
I breathe a sigh of relief when the screen flickers off and the lights brighten, signaling the end of the movie. My eyes first turn to Amina, and I’m surprised to see her wiping at a streak of tears on her cheeks. My mother, too, is brushing at her own eyes. Me, my brothers, and father wait patiently while Amina and my mother collect themselves, each of us wearing varying looks of disbelief. Ah’dan looks decidedly appalled at their display. I can sympathize. The movie was, as my lehti said, trash. How anyone could be moved by such a blatant display of poor writing, directing, and acting, is beyond me.
Still, both my mother and Amina sigh wistfully as we lead them out of the theater. Ah’dan and Bati go ahead, almost in a panic. As if one more second in the theater will reduce them to the state of emotional duress as the women. My mother links her arm through my father’s, and he covers her hand, patting it comfortingly as she continues to extol the movie’s sensitivities.
I take Amina’s hand in mine and guide her through the isle. When we get to the exit, she leans her body into my side and expels a long, heavy sigh.
“That was such a sweet movie.”
I snort. “I thought it was trash?”
“It was, but the end was kind of sweet. How can you not be moved by the fact that he died from a broken heart after he lost his love? It’s sad but sweet. Every girl wants that kind of love.”
Ah, yes. This is another thing I forgot to tell my lehti, and one she would not consider, since her humanity dictates she think of such things as metaphor. Perhaps this is a good time to explain how the leht actually works.
“Every Lyqa’s partner has this kind of love,” I say carefully. It is usually best if Amina comes to these understandings herself. Otherwise, I risk her getting nervous and anxious for nothing.
“Because of the leht?” her expression is curious as she looks up at me. I still don’t think she understands just how physical the leht is. That it is not just a feeling but a manner of existing. That once my first heart began to beat, I truly came into being.
I nod patiently. “Yes, because of the leht. It cannot be undone, and one cannot live without one’s heartbeat.”
“What does that mean?” She’s making the face she makes when she knows something strange is coming, something foreign and overwhelming. I don’t think even she could suspect what I am going to tell her.
“Amina, the leht is not just some feeling a Lyqa has for another. It was not sweet that the man in the film died when he lost his lehti. It was biology. Once your first heart starts beating, you cannot lose the trigger that keeps it going. If you do, you will die. We do not speak in metaphor. To die of a broken heart is a very real thing for us.”
We’re walking down a quiet road back to our home. My brothers are ahead of us. I can hear them discussing the stupidity of the film. My mother and father are just behind them. The sharp smacks that my mother delivers to the backs of both of my brothers’ heads sounds out in the quiet. Their snickering laughter follows.
All of this is happening in the periphery of my mind, however, because Amina has stopped us in the middle of the sidewalk. Her expression is a mix of awe and horror.
“Are you trying to tell me that if I ever leave you, you’ll die?”
“No, we do not have to share the same space or stay together, but if you were to die, my first heart would cease to beat, my body would weaken, and I would not be far behind you.”
Her eyes are saucers in her round face. I feel my heart ratchet up a notch with her’s. The anxiety that rolls off of her is a putrid cloud.
“Are you serious?”
“I am.”
“But your body worked fine before you met me.”
“It did.”
“So why would you die?”
<
br /> Her voice raises. I hear my family pause ahead of us. I try to keep my voice calm. This is a reality I have known my entire life. I am not afraid of the end that I know will follow were I to lose my lehti. I would welcome it. I could not imagine a universe where Amina wasn’t thriving somewhere in it. I step close to her, pulling her into my arms. I lift my hand and smooth it across the stress lines on her forehead until her face relaxes.
“My lehti. Do not be alarmed. Any world where you no longer existed would not be one that I could endure. You are my heart. It beats only to serve and protect you. And while I will gladly follow you into the unknown of death, I will also do all that I can to ensure that you are safe and have the freedom to live a long, healthy life. You have made me stronger, and with my strength, I will care for you and our family.”
I would rate this an impressively passionate speech. I expect it to immediately calm her and mitigate any worry she is feeling, but it seems to have the opposite effect. Amina maneuvers her way out of my arms, pushing her hands up her forehead and over the top of her hair, pulling her face taut in a way that only serves to make her panicked expression more impactful.
“Oh, my god. This is crazy. How can you be okay with this?”
“It is just the way it is for my kind. I am not worried about it.” I’m not. I know I can protect her, and if I can’t, I will follow here wherever she goes.
“Yeah, but what if something randomly happens to me?”
“Like what?”
“Like anything!” A panic is starting to grip her. I feel out and try to project my calm. It doesn’t work. If anything, my acceptance of the leht is only serving to make her more panicked. “What if I get hit by a bus? What if I slip and fall in the tub? What if I choke on a fucking piece of broccoli?”