Risdaverse Tales: Four Risdaverse Novellas

by Dixon, Ruby

  Before I can even get to the door, Khex is there, pressing on the pad so it'll slide open. His eyes light up with pleasure at the sight of me. "My favorite female!"

  "Don't let Rektar hear you say that," I tease. "He's been very protective lately."

  "Of course he is. You look like you're ready to give birth at any moment." He takes the food from my hands, setting it down and then pulling out a chair for me. "How do you feel?"

  "Like I swallowed a bag of footballs," I joke.

  "What's a footballs?"

  "Something enormous like this." I pat my belly. "Where's my mate?"

  I look around the office, but Rektar's messy desk looks untouched. Before I can get an answer, two hulking alien men in uniforms—both as blue as my husband—race in and attack the muffins. Their horns are the same unadorned type that Khex and Rektar sport, and they both look much younger than my Rektar. Fresh out of college, I joke to myself.

  "Good morning to you two," I say, amused at their appalling manners. Khex has told me before that Ainar and Sinath were very low ranked at their particular military outpost, and he requested that they be stationed out here after they had no other opportunities. Not only is Rektar protective of me, but he's protective of others in his situation. We've had these two over to our little house several times for dinner, and I can't decide if I feel sorry for the two or if they've been raised by wolves and are beyond saving. They're good at citing military protocol, but when it comes to being a normal person out of uniform, they're a little…feral.

  Ainar grins at me through a mouth of muffin. "You look more radiant every time we see you, Lucy."

  "Oh, you suck up," I say, smiling as I relax in the chair. Or try to. It's not helping my back much. "I bet you say that to all the girls that bring you food."

  "No one brings us food but you," Ainar retorts. Sinath just stuffs another muffin into his mouth, like he's afraid they're going to be snatched away before he can eat his fill. Mentally, I make a note to increase how much I make. Or perhaps half a load of breakfast muffins and the other half a savory dinner pocket of some kind. Rektar loves it when I make those for him, as if he can't believe he's so lucky, and I always forget that these are men that have been given nothing but protein ration bars for years on end. Of course they love the cooking.

  That's fine. I love cooking for them. In a way, I feel like the team mom, but my team is the Port custodians.

  Sinath grabs a handful of muffins and shoves them into the crook of his arm, carrying them out to his sled. He nods at me in greeting, smiling, but says nothing. Never does, that one. Ainar grabs a few more, giving me a cocky grin of thanks, and heads back out as quickly as he came in. I'm left with Khex and a plate full of crumbs.

  Khex picks at a few crumbs, sitting on the edge of Rektar's desk. "I can't believe they ate all of it before I had a chance to get some."

  "The bottom compartment is for Rektar's share," I tell him, shifting my weight to try and get comfortable. "You can have one of his if you like. Speaking of, where did you say my mate was?"

  "I didn't," Khex says, pulling out one of the extra-large muffins and giving me a blissful look. "You truly are a goddess, Lucy. And he's at the med center."

  "What?!" I jerk to my feet. Or at least I try to. I mostly end up flailing like a turtle on its back. Khex shoves his food into his mouth and gives me a hand, helping me up. "Why is he at the med center? Is he hurt?" The med center here in Port is a large, military-run med-bay since most of the colonists don't have their own med-bays in their houses. It's like an urgent care center back on Earth, and I can only imagine the horrible things that have befallen my poor mate. "Was he shot? Did someone run him over with an air-sled? Is he bleeding? What's wrong?"

  Khex smirks. "He made me promise not to tell."

  Angry, I reach out and smack the last of his muffin out of his hand before it goes to his mouth. "You son of a bitch. You let me sit here and make conversation while my mate's at the med-center? I'm never talking to you again!"

  He gapes at me, looking wistfully down at the crumbles of muffin scattered on Rektar's desk, and picks up a chunk, shrugging. "Like I said, he made me promise not to tell."

  "I'm going to rip your head off right after I tear off his!" I screech, turning and heading for the door as quickly as I can. My heart pounds in my chest, and I head out of the custodial office, scanning the street for the med-center. It's tucked next to a shipping center, and I don't see a trail of blood, so that's good, right? I whimper, my hands under my belly as I storm over as quickly as I can. There's no point in getting the air-sled just to go across the street, so I make my way over and try not to think of all the horrible things that could have gone wrong.

  I can't lose Rektar. I can't. Today is our two-year anniversary. It's been two years of bliss and happiness, just like I knew it would be. I've always been happy with him, but I didn't realize how much I loved him until a month after we were married and I found him secretly throwing out my perfumes and scented candles. The sight of big, powerful Rektar trying to hide tiny perfume bottles from me was the most charming thing I'd ever seen and I realized I'd been slowly falling in love with him. That he made every day better just by being in it. That I looked forward to waking up with him every morning and going to sleep with him at night.

  I've been so excited to build a family with him, to start the next phase of our life together…and I can't lose him.

  The moment I burst through the doors of the med-center, I burst into tears. "Where's my mate?" I bellow, distraught. The waiting room is empty so no one's there to see me lose my damn mind, but it doesn't matter. "Rektar?! Where are you?"

  "Lucy?"

  I hear Rektar's voice from around one of the opaque plas-film curtains that separate the med-center into “rooms,” and I surge forward to his side. My back is killing me, and my feet are too, but I don't care. I just need to see my husband. Sure enough, I go around the curtain and see my mate seated atop one of the tables, a plas-film cloth covering his lap. He's naked otherwise, but his big body looks whole and beautiful and perfect and I burst into fresh tears at the sight of him.

  "Love, what's wrong?" He cradles me against him as I bury my face against his chest and sob. "Is it the baby?"

  "No, it's you," I weep. "What's wrong? Why are you here? Did someone shoot you?" I sniff hard, miserable. "Do I need to kick some alien ass?"

  He strokes my hair, comforting me. "No, love. It's…complicated." He sighs, and as a clinic worker approaches, the little alien looks at my husband, nods, and turns back the way he came. "I'm not in danger," Rektar continues. "Please, calm yourself."

  "Just tell me what's going on," I manage, hiccupping. I do my best to stop crying, running my hands all over his massive arms and chest. He looks good. God, he looks amazing, and if I wasn't ready to pop like an overstuffed Thanksgiving turkey, I'd jump his bones. "Are you in pain?"

  My big, handsome mate grimaces. "Actually, a little, yes."

  I suck in a shaky breath. "Where?"

  "Do not be upset."

  "Of course I'm going to be upset," I say, feeling slightly hysterical. "You're my mate and I love you. Why wouldn't I be upset?"

  He gives me a soft look, stroking my hair again. "I love you too, my beautiful mate. And that is why I wished to give you an anniversary gift."

  It's on the tip of my tongue to ask him what the bleeping bleep he's going on about when he pulls the plas-film cloth back from his hips and shows me his new piercing. There's a large, rounded double-stud on the top of his cockhead. A spider bite, I recall vaguely from my knowledge of piercings back on Earth.

  "You…oh," I say, breathless.

  "It is tradition for most mesakkah to pierce their cocks in order to bring greater pleasure to their females," Rektar tells me in a grave voice. "I never had mine done because I thought it would not be necessary. There would be no female to please, because I am a nobody amongst my people. But then I met you. And I wanted you to have everything I could give you. So I g
ot this done. I have been thinking about it for a while, but I thought now might be the time, when you are not interested in mating. It will take a few weeks to heal." He shifts on the table, his expression a little uncomfortable. "And it hurts more than I expected."

  "I bet." I reach out to lightly touch one of the rounded metal protuberances. When he's inside me, I have no doubt that they're going to rub against my G-spot with every stroke, and I'm pretty excited to try that out. But the tip of him is swollen and looks painful, and I make a clucking sound in my throat. "You hurt yourself for me?"

  "I would do everything for you, my Lucy. You are my world."

  Damn it. I sniff hard, determined not to start crying again. "I love you," I tell him again, my voice wobbly. "Happy anniversary."

  "I love you too, my mate," he tells me with the most gentle, affectionate tone in his voice. "And…I think you are leaking."

  Leaking?

  I hear the sound of something wet on the floor, and I realize that my dress is now stuck to my legs. "I think my water just broke," I tell Rektar, dazed.

  "Then it is a good thing we are already at the med-center," he says, in the most calm, natural voice ever. He gets off the table and picks me up, setting me on it. "Now we will greet our daughter on our anniversary, and it will truly be the best day ever." He takes my hand in his and kisses my fingers, and his smile is so beautiful it could light up the universe.

  * * *

  Six hours later, I'm on all kinds of good drugs, drowsing sleepily in the med-center bed. Rektar is beside me, a pair of loose (very loose) pants on, and our daughter in his arms. Since I was made pregnant by the largest alien I've ever seen, it shouldn't surprise me that my baby is the largest infant ever, but the size of the newborn surprises even the attendants. They coo over her four-fingered little hands and her sweet little mouth and the fact that she looks like a sausage in the baby clothes they give me.

  She's completely perfect, of course, and Rektar looks down at her as if she's the most wondrous thing he's ever seen.

  "You are a marvel, my mate," Rektar tells me, leaning over to press a kiss on my brow as our daughter sleeps in his arms. "To think you were carrying something so large inside your small body."

  "That's why I love you," I tease him sleepily. "Because you see the size of my hips every day and you still think I'm dainty."

  "You are to me," he says, and tilts his arms so I can look at our daughter's sleeping face. "She looks just like you."

  "Don't make me laugh," I beg, even as I chuckle. "Everything hurts. You know she looks just like you, silly."

  "She has your fingers," Rektar tells me staunchly, and I bubble over into more laughter. My fingers?! "All right," he admits with a sheepish smile. "She looks a bit like me. It seems unfair, since you did all the work."

  "That child is the spitting image of you," I tell him, smiling. She's got his nose, right down to the plates, his wide cheekbones, and his eyes. There'll never be any doubt in anyone's mind that this baby girl is a hundred percent his. It's amazing to me that I can see so many of his features in her small, scrunched up face. "Isn't she beautiful, though?"

  "Almost as beautiful as her mother," he agrees, and kisses my brow again. "Did you decide on a name?"

  We've tossed around a few but never settled on anything. I look at her now, and then glance up at my husband. "Tara? She can take half your name, since she took your face."

  A delighted grin spreads across my mate's mouth, and he holds the baby tighter. "Tara," he repeats. "I love it." He strokes her tufts of black hair with an awestruck expression on his face. "To think that I never had anything in my life, and now I have everything a male could ever want." He takes my hand in his. "Thank you, my Lucy."

  Damn it. The man's going to make me cry again. "All right, but the next one looks like me," I declare, as if I have any say over the genetics.

  And Rektar leans in and kisses me again. He's giving me so many kisses tonight, this man. "It is a promise."