“Shalia, it’s a damned, dirty lie that there is a shortage of Kalquorian women,” she said by way of greeting. “A million have commed since the news vid ran last night about the egg donor drive.”
“Slow down, woman,” I said. “There’s been a big reaction to the story?”
“I think that’s what I said. I’ve had to record an automatic message to handle the requests. I swear that every Kalquorian woman in existence is asking how she can sign up to get pregnant with Earther eggs. The story hadn’t finished running the first time before the news headquarters started fielding coms. Their frequency was overrun. The foundation’s didn’t stop buzzing until I forwarded it to the messenger service.”
“That answers the question as to whether or not Kalquorian women have issues with using Earthers’ baby ingredients,” I said weakly.
“A resounding ‘no fucking problem’ to that one. Thank goodness I got that frequency established before the story ran. We’re almost to five thousand requests already, with more still trying to get through.”
“Between me and Amelia of Clan Rajhir, we have less than twenty-five eggs. Candy is supposed to donate next week.” I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. We’d jumped too far ahead by doing the news story before we had a supply to meet the demand.
“You’d better hope your presentation at the complex next week goes well, or you’ll be spending a lot of your waking hours on your back with a harvester up your twat.” Katrina was finally finding some humor in the situation. I’m glad someone was.
“I’m still coping with the way my clanmates freaked out during the inaugural harvest. Cifa already wants to claw out Flencik’s eyes because he’s seen my personal bits. The other two aren’t much better.”
“I’d heard Kalquorian men can become a bit contentious when it comes to female clanmates having even a routine gynecological exam.”
“Contentious doesn’t begin to describe it. How’s the search for a general administrator?” I hated that Katrina was shouldering far more responsibility for the foundation than we’d anticipated. This was my cause, after all. Guilt rode me hard.
“I’ve had about twenty applicants, half of which are strong contenders. Two in particular, both Imdikos, are my early picks. I’m seeing about five applicants today, including those two.”
“Great. I owe you big for handling all this stuff. I know it’s not what you signed on for.”
“Actually, I’m enjoying it. I’ve never been so popular. It’s going to my head.”
I laughed and thanked her again. Then I ordered her a bottle of leshella and a bouquet of flowers, a mere fraction of what she deserves. I have the best friends in existence.
February 19, early
Betra’s mother, Matara Elwa, commed me first thing this morning. I was still stumbling around, searching for coffee. Her news woke me up, however, no caffeine required.
“Betra’s ship is within range of the mini-wormholes that allow instant communication,” she said, blessedly unaware how much I despised her at the moment. Not because she’d commed so early, but because she was primped and primed for the day when I hadn’t even put a comb to my hair. Ugh, it must be glorious to be perfect.
I got over feeling inferior in a hurry. “That’s great news,” I said. “Do they prefer me to com them or are they going to get in touch with me?” I looked forward to real-time talking.
“They’ll com you. I only wanted to give you prior warning.” Elwa acted like she was dying to say more. She had that expression she got when she knew she was about to meddle and actually doubted if she should. That doesn’t happen too often—the doubting part, I mean. Elwa rarely second-guesses herself when it comes to sticking her nose in other people’s business.
“Sounds mysterious,” I goaded. Either she would break down and talk, or I would drive her nuts because she didn’t dare.
Elwa gave me several seconds of entertainment. She’d start to speak, and then stop herself with a frown that said the effort to keep secrets was killing her. At last she said, “Listen, when Betra tells you the latest, com me back. You may need to talk. That’s all I will say.”
“Just tell me he and Oses are okay.”
“Oh yes, they’re doing wonderful. Happy as can be. Remember that, Shalia. They’re happy.”
“Oookay,” I drawled. My interest was piqued at that point, but Elwa switched off before I could try to tease a few more hints out of her.
My clanmates had stuck close, doing a terrible job of pretending they weren’t eavesdropping. I snorted at the three. “Any problems with me talking to Betra and Oses later on?”
“Of course not,” Seot said with a bright smile as he picked out a nice pair of shoes made of ronka-hide leather. “You know we have no issue with you maintaining your friendship with them.”
“Are you sure? Especially you, Cifa. You said you weren’t enthralled with me being around Dr. Flencik after the whole egg donation thing, and I’m only working with him.”
Cifa paused in teasing out Anrel’s curls so they fluffed adorably from her round head. “Different situation. It’s not like Betra and Oses are going to see you naked or anything.” He narrowed his eyes at me in mock jealousy. “They’re not, are they?”
I started to throw a pillow at him, then thought better of it since Anrel was there. “You know better. But they have seen me naked in the past.” And done rude things about it, which I was smart enough not to say right out.
Cifa shrugged. “That was when I wasn’t clanned to you. Different story.”
Larten laughed at my disbelieving expression as he brushed his hair. “Your past is nothing we concern ourselves with. It’s what goes on now that the clanning has happened. Such as Flencik observing and touching what should be shared only with us.”
I shook my head, trying to figure their bizarre mindset out. “So men I was once romantically involved with, who have seen and touched me, are not a problem for you. Yet a man who looks at and touches me only in a medical fashion, this is what flips you out?”
“It’s uncomfortable for us to allow another man to get so close to you, even in a technical way. You’re ours.”
Seot chuckled, coming over to wrap me up in a hug. “It does sound a little strange, I suppose. But it’s how we feel.”
“What about what we did in that big tent orgy thing during the cruise? I was on display for all those strangers to gawp at. Are you telling me that now that we’re clanned, that kind of thing won’t happen again?” I was a bit disappointed. I’d thought maybe sometime we could indulge my semi-exhibitionistic fantasies at a pleasure club. I enjoy the hell out of that kind of play.
“Oh, that’s different too,” Cifa said. “In that case, though others are watching you, they also see us having you. It’s okay if you want to do that sort of thing with us since we’re clanned.”
“How is that okay?” I felt as if I’d fallen into some weird alternate reality.
“Because you’re with us. Enjoying us.” Cifa spoke as if he made perfect sense.
“Sweet prophets, Cifa, do you think I enjoy Flencik stuffing a cold metal egg harvester in my twat? Because that’s waaaay the hell down on my happy list.”
“It had better be. Watch the language in Anrel’s presence, please.”
“You Kalquorian men are so weird,” I opined. I smooched Anrel on the forehead as an apology for my potty mouth and headed to the kitchen for coffee. I hoped to cross the border into a saner version of life along the way.
So, let’s recap. Remaining good friends with men who’d fucked me more times than I can count: okay. Having sex with my clan in full view of other men, especially strangers: okay. Going to a doctor for gynecological issues: uncomfortable for my clan.
Yeah. Bizarre. And I’m the clanmate who needs psychological counseling?
February 19, later
Well. Okay. I’ve gotten Betra and Oses’s big news, straight from the source. And…I don’t know. I just don’t know.
&nbs
p; I got through all of work today, lining up some new productions for my growing staff. I kept thinking Betra and Oses would com at any moment. I suppose they were trying to catch me outside of office hours. Or maybe they were simply putting our conversation off.
I’d barely gotten back home when Betra and Oses’s com came through. I was excited to see them. It felt like it had been forever.
Betra’s sweet face beamed at me through the vid. I was delighted to note that undercurrent of angst he normally wears was missing. I swear, he looked the happiest I’d ever seen him. His mother had been right on that account.
Oses appeared joyful too. Well, joyful for him. He’s not one anyone will ever accuse of exuberance, but he had a slight smile and his expression was relaxed.
“Elwa hinted something might be up with you two,” I said after the greetings and happy screams from Anrel. She recognized her uncles, thank goodness. I’d be heartbroken otherwise.
“Catch us up with you to start,” Betra insisted. “Tell us the latest on the baby, your foundation, your job, everything.”
“Come on, guys,” I protested. “I’m dying of curiosity.”
Oses firmly shook his head, and I knew they would make me wait. “You have to go first, Shalia. While you still wish to speak to us.” There was a hint of laughter in his tone.
“While I still—crap, what have you gotten yourselves into?”
“The sooner you tell us what’s happening with you and Anrel, the sooner you will find out.”
I made it fast, grateful that I sent them such regular updates so I could get through the latest quickly. They chuckled at my disbelief over Kalquorians’ attitudes of female clanmates and their doctors.
“I can appreciate how you’d find it strange,” Betra agreed.
“You never acted weird with me and Dr. Tep. Is it because we were not clanned?”
“A little.”
“He got distant a few times with our chief medic, particularly when you had been under Tep’s care,” Oses smirked. “Betra was jealous.”
“What? How come I never noticed?” I was flabbergasted.
“Because it wasn’t my place to be possessive,” Betra sighed. “I kept it to myself as best I could when you were around. I knew you wouldn’t understand it.”
“Enough about me coping with bizarre Kalquorian male behavior,” I said, ready to move on. “What is this news you’ve got for me?”
Betra and Oses looked at each other. “Are you ready to tell her?” Oses asked.
“No, but if we do it now, maybe she’ll be friends with us again by the time we return to Kalquor.”
“Stop stalling!” I yelled. Anrel got excited and yelled too. “See? Your niece wants to hear it as much as I do.”
“Okay, I’ll make it fast,” Betra said. “We’re real clanmates. We have a Dramok.”
My mouth dropped open. “You—what? Elwa didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone!”
“She was asked not to. We believed it best to keep it quiet until we knew how it would work out,” Oses said. “There would be no point in telling you otherwise.”
“Are you kidding me?” I waved to Cifa, who had poked his head in to find out what I was growing loud about. “Why wouldn’t you tell me you were becoming serious? Unless you thought I wouldn’t like—” I fell quiet. I damned near stopped breathing all at once. “No. You did not.”
Betra gave me his sweetest, most appealing smile. “Yeah. We did.”
Even as dim as I am far too often, I have moments where I figure out the obvious all by myself. This was a moment I’d have preferred to remain clueless.
“Is he there with you? Right now?” I swallowed hard. “Because if I have to offer congratulations, I’d prefer to do it just the once.”
“We decided we’d spare the two of you that discomfort,” Oses said. “However, I appreciate the consideration and lack of curse words.”
My skin felt stretched tight over my face as I tried to be a decent sport and smile. “Of course not. Why would I say nasty things about the new and lovely union of Clan Resan?”
“Maybe the fact that the two of you have dearly loved fantasies of shoving each other out of airlocks.”
“Matara Elwa said the two of you are happy. That’s all that matters.” I tried to sound as if I believed my ludicrous statement.
Cifa snorted and left the doorway. In the distance, I heard him call, “Seot? Where are you?”
Meanwhile, Betra and Oses still looked as if they were waiting for a storm to hit, though my Imdiko friend had begun to appear cautiously hopeful. “We told Resan early on that we expected him to be on his best behavior around you. We made it plain we intend to remain friends, as well as Anrel’s uncles.”
I hate to say it, but I hoped Resan would see his way clear to avoid joining them on any visits. “I will do the same. He’s your Dramok. I’m sure you wouldn’t have clanned with him without good reason.”
“He’s right for us, it turns out.” Betra was relaxing more and more. “Even in intimate settings. You remember how I am. He provides the kinds of things I respond to, as Oses does. He doesn’t push me for anything I don’t want.”
Oses added, “Resan and I give each other what Betra isn’t capable of sharing with us. It’s a good mix. But let’s not talk anymore of those subjects. It isn’t appropriate, given you’re with another clan.”
I was relieved to hear Resan wasn’t trying to change Betra’s unchangeable heterosexuality. The ‘kinds of things’ Betra didn’t mind getting from another man—humiliation play—were right up Resan’s alley. I could understand how the situation might work between them.
Oses was correct that we were discussing far too much sex stuff given my situation. Especially in light of recent disclosures of jealousy from my clan. “Tell me about the rest, then. He’s a match for you outside of the intimate issues too?”
Betra chuckled. “I know you probably don’t want to hear it, but yes. He’s a great friend with whom we have many shared interests. Our views on life and duty are the same. We’ve spent entire nights talking to the point we forget to go to sleep.”
“There is a lot of respect as well.” Oses gave me a wink. “You must be dying to deny our Dramok’s attributes, but I assure you, they are there.”
I laughed and shook my head. “I never could put my finger on precisely why I didn’t care for him. Though I can point to some specific disagreements, it seems as if it’s simply a matter of we rubbed each other wrong. Some people are like that.” I took a deep breath. “Seriously, if he makes you two happy, then I’m all for it. You deserve that joy.”
Famous last words. After another half hour of talking and letting the guys moon over Anrel, we signed off. As soon as Betra and Oses’s images disappeared and I confirmed the connection had terminated, I told Anrel in a loud voice, “Ugh! How? How could that happen? Your uncles are insane!”
I made sure my tone was playful so as not to upset her, but the angst was real. She laughed, falling for my ruse. I cuddled her close, mostly so she wouldn’t catch me making ugly faces.
Trying to figure out how to cope with this unwelcome turn of events, I went to see my clan. My clan, with my decidedly non-asshole Dramok. Good night, what were Betra and Oses thinking, making Resan their clanmate???
Warned ahead of time by Cifa, my wonderful men were all waiting for me in the common room. Seot gave me a hug as our Imdiko claimed Anrel. “You aren’t having quite the tantrum I anticipated, given what Cifa informed me has happened. I know you’re keeping stuff under wraps because of the baby, but I’m still impressed with the level of control you’re exhibiting.”
I put a big, fake smile on. “I cannot emphasize enough how much I despise that man. Yet they clanned with him. Of all Dramoks in the Kalquorian Empire, they chose that one. That—that—uuuugh!”
“Punch stuff,” Larten advised. “Hard. It makes everything better.”
“I just—it’s just—him! That—ooh! He’s so—aah!” I couldn’t
finish a statement without the foulest profanity available, which I couldn’t use in Anrel’s presence. I paced back and forth, uttering incoherent sounds of disbelieving dismay.
My clanmates were visibly doing their best not to laugh. I’d already described in depth my dislike for Resan. And yes, it’s comical in its extremity, I suppose.
“It’s so unfair!” I ranted. “I thought I’d never have to look at his sneering, evil face again. I have been so happy to have that jerk out of my life. Now when Anrel has a birthday or celebration, something to invite her uncles to take part in, he’ll be there. Sweet prophets save me, I’ll have to be nice to him!”
“If it makes you feel any better, he’ll have to be nice to you too,” Larten told me. “Because if he’s not, I’ll demolish him.”
Shalia's Diary Book 11 Page 14