by Greg Curtis
She had not expected to find a mate at all, let alone among the humans. But it was awkward, difficult and embarrassing, as she tried to work out what to do, what to say. And he wasn’t much better, standing there in the morning, looking both happy and confused. It just wasn’t right. There should have been months if not years of getting to know one another, of families meeting, and shared dinners. And by the time the mating had been made official, there should have been no surprises.
It should have been the most natural thing in the world. But instead it was a shock from start to finish. Though a good one. Certainly before she’d fully awoken that morning, before she’d had a chance to really think about what had happened, she’d felt happy. Satisfied in a way she hadn’t ever known before. But then came the memories, the questions and the doubts, as they both lay there like star struck fools, wondering what they were supposed to do next.
Breakfast had been a silent affair as neither of them had known quite what to say. Yet even before that, just getting up, showering and dressing; things that should be perfectly natural between mates, had been so very unnatural. They didn’t know whether to cover up, whether to look at one another, or to look away.
In the end escaping back to the ship for some clean clothes had been an excuse, but a necessary one. She’d needed time to think, and David did too she guessed. But of course she should have remembered peace was the last thing she’d get that day.
First had come the talk with her mother, a long, shocked, tearful and confusing conversation that made no sense to either of them. But then the situation made no sense, and her family had a right to be shocked and confused when they saw the records of her and David. Full contact combat followed by wild sweaty sex. That had almost never happened before, at least in the public view, and the fact that it was with a human had just made it more sensational. Their mating was on every channel. It probably would be for months. And to add to her humiliation, they were being studied and examined like specimens under a microscope.
Already learned specialists in everything from psychiatry to medicine were discussing the encounter in excruciating detail, while she’d just had to watch their endless panel discussions on the morning news and somehow ignore the humiliation. No wonder her family were shocked.
Then, claiming some sort of need after having witnessed their fight, the doctors had called her in for an appointment, and then scanned her from head to foot and made copious notes, most of them also now public records. Some days she wondered if the humans had it right and maybe there were things that should be kept private. But at least the doctors had found nothing wrong and pronounced her fit to return to work, not that she’d actually been off work.
After that she’d had to face Lars. He was a good man, she knew that, but deep down under his calm exterior he was shocked and uncertain like everyone else. No doubt he’d never expected to face a situation like this either. But he had given her the necessary time off as he would for any officer beginning mating, and managed to say very little else, except that he understood. He didn’t of course. How could he when she didn’t? But at least he was trying to be a good boss and a friend.
But of course he was also a security officer, and even his good intentions had been undermined by his duty. He had asked her some pointed questions about David, already knowing that she was the best placed of his officers to find out. And they had some serious questions about him, another reason to wonder at her insanity of the previous night.
They already knew he was an agent, but the disturbing series of missing records and security measures taken to protect his past suggested that he was more than he’d admitted to. Much more. After all, no one went to such extraordinary lengths to hide everything about themselves unless they had something to hide. That was not good, especially when he now knew about them. Being asked to make enquiries with her mate though, that was worse. It made her feel guilty and treacherous, and she hadn’t yet agreed to do anything at all, other than her duty of course. And she would have to ask him. But how did you ask your mate if he was dangerous? If he was going to turn your people over to the authorities? If he was some kind of danger to them? Who he was? It was something that just didn’t happen.
With thoughts like that running back and forth through her tired brain, it was good to have a friend turn up to take her away from her worries.
“Done and then some.” It was good to have a friend to talk to, someone she had known for many years, and she even managed a small smile. “The Mother has a creative sense of humour.”
Cyrea indicated the other side of the park bench and Myra sat down beside her without so much as a doubt. That was good when everyone else was staring at her twice or three times, even her other colleagues. But then they were as close as sisters.
“How’s your family?”
“Shocked, devastated, embarrassed. Everything you’d expect. My father couldn’t even talk to me.” And that hurt. That she’d embarrassed them she’d already known. But that she’d done it so badly that her own father didn’t even know what to say; she hadn’t expected that. But then she hadn’t expected any of this either, and her father sounding confused and uncertain when he was normally neither of those things, that just made things worse. In the end he just talked about the farm, trying anything to avoid the subject. Maybe that was better than her mother’s wailing though.
“You’d expect that.” Myra smiled at her. “Even if things had gone normally you’d expect it to be hard. It’ll just take time.”
“Time?” It was the last thing she needed to hear just then, as it reminded her anew that she had to go back to him. He was her mate. For the rest of her life, he was her mate. And that was the truly scary part. She was mated.
“Time. You’ve always got time you know. Things may have gone pear shaped as the humans say, but in the end it doesn’t matter. You’ve got the time you need to fix them.”
“But how do I fix them?”
“The same way everyone does. You take the time you need, you talk with your mate. Get to know each other properly. Build your home together.”
Myra was right of course. She was often right but thankfully she was never self-righteous with it. Maybe that came with being a theologian as well as a speaker. Someone who studied the works of the Mother as well as knowing the words of the prophets. Then again maybe she was just very practical.
Cyrea sighed quietly. A part of her wished it was otherwise; a large confused and worried part. But in the end she simply had to deal with what had happened. She had a mate. For better or worse she had a mate. There was no point in wishing it hadn't happened. The only thing to do was accept it and move on.
Chapter Eight.
It was Friday the following week when David finally managed to leave his cottage.
At that he didn’t really want to. It was just that he was out of essential supplies like food, drink and toilet paper. Things had been getting tight until then, and they’d dined on toast for two days as they consumed the last of his frozen bread. He resolved to do a very big shop so he could put off having to go back to the supermarket for as long as possible.
Still it was good to be out. He missed Cyrea, even though he knew he would see her again in only a few hours. Having said that the peace and serenity of the drive to town was wonderful.
Physically he hoped it would also give him a chance to recover somewhat from his exertions. He needed all the recovery he could get.
They had been insatiable. There was simply no other word to describe their time together. In nearly ten days they had done nothing more than make love, morning, noon and night. It was exhausting work, and he fancied they had done as much exercise in bed as they had missed out on in the gym. Though they had managed a few sessions there as well, until their hormones ended the sessions early. Swimming too had proved nearly impossible as they barely got in to the water before they had to get out. Sometimes they hadn’t made it out. They were like teenagers.
But on the other hand, working o
ut and swimming were now a lot more fun. The competition had gone, or at least the bad side of it, and they were actually learning to cooperate. Each helped the other with their routine and learnt from the other in the process.
David had started moving back into the free weights and bench pressing with Cyrea acting as his spotter. On his own he’d mostly stuck to the machine press, always worried about dropping the bar on his neck, but with Cyrea present he didn't have that fear any longer. And the view while he was pressing was to die for. Cyrea was working with him on his flexibility as well. Now that they weren’t at war any longer he could accept her guidance. In turn he was helping her with her strength, encouraging her to push herself in ways she hadn’t before.
Daily life had occasionally been strained, though not terribly. They were sharing everything, including the cooking and cleaning, and learning about each other’s needs in the process. There was a lot to learn, though that he figured was no different than whenever any two people moved in together. The fact that she was from another world was probably less disorienting then the fact that he was suddenly sharing his home and his life with another. Not that he minded.
Besides, physically they weren’t that different. They could eat the same food, use the same toothpaste and shampoo. In fact the only difference between living with Cyrea or with a human woman was that he had to change the sheets every few days or start to itch, and that was no great hassle.
Of course there were other concerns. He wanted to take her exploring to more than just the local lake and valleys, but had to be careful in case someone spotted her who wasn’t one of the aliens’ confidants. The same applied to going driving in the country, or just expecting visitors. Surprisingly he did receive a few. The odd neighbour dropped by, as well as various service men when things broke down, and a few hunting and fishing friends. Still, thus far they had managed to navigate their way around the worst of it without too many worries, and the rewards were more than worth it.
Emotionally it had been a wonderful time, as they explored each other in every way. And the more they explored, the more they liked. For David, Cyrea was turning out to be the woman of his dreams even though he’d never dreamed of a woman. Least of all an alien woman. She was so like him in so many ways it kept surprising him. She was an investigator and an officer, but unlike him she was still a believer in her work. She was where he had been more than a dozen years earlier when he’d first started with the CIA. That was a time when he’d still been one of the good guys, defending the innocent against the bad. Before the world had suddenly become so grey.
He loved that idealism that still lived within her, and when he was close to her he felt close to it as well. Almost close enough to forget the very real problems that beset him. The enemies he’d made, the things he’d done, the secrets he was keeping from her. When he was with her, they didn’t matter. He simply forgot them all. It was only when he was alone that the nightmares crept back like thieves in the night, and with them the fear that when she learned of them she’d run screaming. Anyone would.
In turn Cyrea loved his discipline and the way he approached problems. He was in some ways where she wanted to be in a few more years, though without the cynicism. She criticised him for that cold eye as she called it. Cyrea had been working as an officer now for seven or eight years; long enough to have mastered the basics and make her a good officer, but part of her would always believe she was still too flighty, too prone to doing the wrong thing in haste. For her he was self-control personified. She was wrong of course. David had told her that repeatedly. Her concerns were always a sign of an excellent officer. Those that thought they knew everything were the ones who made the most and the worst mistakes.
In some ways Cyrea was also everything he’d wished he could be. She was a family girl, with parents and brothers and sisters, whereas he had been raised an orphan after the premature death of his parents. He loved to listen to her stories about growing up on the farm. They were so warm and happy, and so almost perfectly human, whereas his own childhood was a cold alien place by comparison. When she spoke about them he just held her close, closed his eyes and imagined her childhood as it must have been. He only wished he could have brought similar stories for her to enjoy. Instead he had his own supply of tales he couldn’t tell, most of them both bitter and classified. Even if he could tell her, David knew he wouldn’t want to. His past was simply too dark to lay on her. And too shameful.
Humour was deeply ingrained in both of them, with neither of them able to resist a joke, and neither afraid to laugh long and loud, or play the clown. For the moment it was all still new to them, and perhaps they laughed longer and louder than they should, but they also knew it was a gift and they should enjoy it. Besides, he couldn’t see them ever losing their laughter.
They shared similar tastes in many things too, not least of all music. Cyrea loved the classic rock that he listened to, finding it almost identical to their dance music of the previous century. Cyrea’s grandparents had introduced her to the back beat as a child, and from then everything else had been second best. It was something he could understand perfectly. Often they had spent the days just listening to the music of the Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, Elton John and so many others, making love and singing, badly. Neither of them could sing, but if they turned up the stereo, it didn’t really matter. At night they turned it down and drifted to sleep to the sounds of Enya and Deep Forest.
Soon, Cyrea had promised, she would bring him some recordings of the music of her home, and he was dying to hear them. Music from another world. In his wildest dreams he’d never even considered the idea, but soon he was going to be listening to it. Maybe even that evening.
She also promised to bring back some spices. A necessity when he was trying to prepare food for her, and yet had no idea what she liked. Plus he was looking forward to sampling the cuisine of another world. New tastes, new flavours. He couldn’t begin to imagine what she could show him, but he was dying to find out.
There were surprises too, things he could never have imagined. For a start she was religious, believing emphatically in Mother Lei, her people’s name for God. In fact she was even a speaker as she translated it, someone who had learned all her people’s religious texts and could quote them by heart. That seemed wrong somehow. She was from an advanced alien race, with spaceships and technology he could barely begin to dream of, yet her people believed completely that there was a creator.
She had told him at length about the divine moment when the universe had been born, created from nothing, by no one, and how all of their science, every single scrap of knowledge they could glean from the universe would never explain that. The same was true of the other four space travelling races they knew. They all accepted some sort of creator. It seemed that their knowledge had become so far advanced that they had finally worked out what was beyond them to understand. No doubt there were going to be some upset atheists on Earth when they found that out.
Of course there would be some upset believers as well, since her people didn't follow any of mankind’s faiths. Though they saw the spark of the creator in everything it wasn't the same. Rather they believed in a creator and lots and lots of prophets. People divinely inspired who saw a little deeper into the universe than others. But they had no Son of God. Jesus to them would have simply been a prophet. They had no belief in heaven and hell. Though they accepted that there was something after, they said that what came next came next. It wasn't for them to know it until the time.
She was also an artist. All her people were. Even though she claimed she wasn’t a painter she had enormous skill in that direction, and a strange view of what she should do in another person’s home. He’d discovered that on their first full day together when she’d returned from the ship with a tool box full of paints, and started work on the main wall in his lounge without any warning. That had caught him by surprise at first but in the end he had to admit, the wall hadn’t been the most attractive part of the house to begin
with, and with a clean white base coat it looked better from the beginning. Besides, it was fun to watch her at work, tracing out lines with chunks of charcoal, something that seemed somewhat primitive to him, especially for a people with space travel, and then little by little colouring in the strange alien landscape she had sketched.