by Gemma Voss
She grins wide, swelling with pride. She prepares her cup, which I realize now is the coffee she tried to tempt me with earlier in the week. The rich smell of it permeates the room. I had always associated this scent with her but did not understand the reason why. I see now that she must drink it all the time, and it is oddly satisfying to make this mental connection about her life.
“So, what, is Pakka just okay with you being here now?” she asks, craning her neck to sneak a look at my tap-pad. “You two are just … chatting like nothing happened?”
I laugh. “Okay is not the word I would choose. He is begrudgingly dealing with my insubordination. Our people do not hold grudges.”
“And what about last night? Do you regret coming here?”
Do I? I could very well have attacked her. That is what all my prior teachings about the nature of unsuppressed individuals pointed towards. She teased me about calling another man, and it filled me with fury. But I had never considered the fact that she could very well have been living with another man here when I followed her. My reckless mind did not think of it until later. And what would I have done? Would I have done something horrible? It is possible… I feel more confident in my ability to control, but there is always that chance, the fear of slipping, digging at my conscience.
But no, I cannot bring myself to regret coming to see her. I regret tonguing her and causing her to go through that. But the time we have spent together? I could not ever give that up. I think of the breathy moans she made on the other side of the door, and the soft sounds of her slippery—No, better not think of that.
“No,” I tell her, and I do not miss the way her face relaxes at my response. “I only regret that I am not the male you deserve, one that can give you everything you desire and court you in the ways of your own people.”
The relief in her expression is short-lived, as I realize I have said something else to upset her.
“Would they really excommunicate you?” she asks, frowning. “And if they did, would it matter, seeing as you’re already here on Earth?”
“It’s not a typical situation, that is true,” I concede, “But I would be removed from my research team, and my colleagues would be expected to cease all contact with me. I would most certainly never see Kar’Kal again… Just last night, Pakka stated it clearly enough when he wrote to me, ‘If you act like a Deviant, then you will be judged as such, and there will be nothing I can do to stand in the way of our laws.’”
She sips on her drink and then lets out a little sigh. “If you’re already going to be considered guilty of the crime,” she says in a honeyed tone. “Then why not do the deed?”
“This is why I call you viki,” I say with a smile. “I do not know if there is such a thing in your culture, which is why I suppose there is no direct translation. There are some Kar’Kali that are chosen from command units to train as viki. They have their chips removed and infiltrate smuggler rings, weapons producers, neutral foreign cities… They pretend to be like any other exiled Deviant, but they are actually loyal to Kar’Kal and sending information to the home planet.”
“Like a spy?” she asks, raising her brow. “You’ve been calling me a spy?”
“Viki have been known to truly defect as a result, and they can acquire a reputation of being untrustworthy,” I explain. “So, often the word is used simply to describe a person that is lying or altering the truth for their own purposes, maybe making tricks and being deceptive.”
She giggles, then waggles her brows at me. “Making tricks, huh?”
Abandoning her cup, she leans across the counter. “A Deviant criminal and a spy?” she muses, her mouth dangerously close to my own. “To human ears, it sounds like a match made in heaven.”
Her breath tickles my lips, and the feeling goes straight to my cock. It hardens quickly, and I grip the countertop.
“You are only proving me right. All viki are well-trained in the art of torture. And to have you this close without claiming you is a slow, sweet torture,” I whisper to her.
“You wouldn’t know what to do with it if you could claim it,” she teases before pulling away and walking around the countertop to sit up on the stool beside me. I am learning she likes to taunt me. I think she wants to see me turn wild again. She told me once before that she’d like to see me lose control. Of course, she is not wrong in her statement. In comparison to a human male, I’m sure I’m quite useless and inexperienced at the sexual things she might want from me. I say nothing, and simply absorb this opportunity to watch her backside sway as she walks.
“Spend the day with me,” she says. “Court me in the human way, like you said. Take me on a date, and then maybe I’ll let you claim me.”
Her mischievous expression sets her blue eyes sparkling.
“I thought you were being reasonable,” I say.
“Well, I’m looking at ‘reasonable’ from a new perspective today. We have two full days together to do whatever we want to do. And for all we know, on Monday your team will have a fix for your chip and you’ll have your feelings for me turned off—”
I open my mouth to interject but she holds up the palm of her hand to my face.
“Shush up, Casanova. You know just as well as I do that you will at least consider getting it fixed. Anyways, come Monday, this thing between us could all go away. So why not enjoy the two days together, no strings attached and see where it goes? And if it’s all over, at least we’ll have the memories, right?”
“My desire for you is not a ‘thing’,” I argue. “It’s a force all its own. What of the consequences?”
“Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it,” she says.
“And what does that mean?”
“We will wait to consider the problems until those problems arise.”
“Humans wonder why it is they are seen as lazy and incompetent by other alien species, and then they have such phrases as these. And another thing. Everything is confusing and unclear. Attaching strings? Crossing bridges?”
“Here’s the simple question,” she says with a smirk. “Yes or no?”
That smug look on her face tells me she already knows. She knows full well that I can never say no to her now.
Chapter 13
Ella
I cancel on the weekly girls’ night out and decide to take Kila on a classic Earth-style date—the movies.
In honor of his sly little nickname for me, I come up with the brilliant plan to see the newest James Bond film. We make our way down to the old theater at the center of town. Kila quizzes me on every detail we pass by. I try to tell him anything I think might be interesting. Piney was a small town once, with one Main Street shopping area surrounded by quiet suburban streets. Now that the Alliance research facility has been plopped just a ten-minute drive from town, the place has blossomed into a wannabe city. New bars, alien-owned businesses, transport stops, and apartment buildings like mine cropped up overnight. I’ve lived in Piney all my life, but in the five years since Occupation, it’s become a lot more colorful and interesting around here.
Of course, there are those that don’t look at it so positively.
“What is this word ‘NAA’?” he asks, pointing at an old diner on the corner across from the theater. “Is this a style of food? Because I have seen this sign in many windows.”
“It means ‘No Aliens Allowed’,” I awkwardly explain. As we hesitate by the window, a couple blinks out at us from their table.
“I see,” he says, and we move on. I cast a glance over my shoulder and slip my hand affectionately into Kila’s— just to rub it in their bigoted faces.
“That doesn’t bother you?” I ask, noticing how he has not even lingered on what I told him. He’s moved on to squinting his eyes at the flashing hand on the crosswalk sign that is currently yelling, “WAIT, WAIT,” in its monotone voice.
He shrugs. “Though we do not have leisure or vacation like humans, Kar’Kali warriors are often abroad on strange planets during or between missio
ns. I have seen all manner of marketplaces, cloud-high cities, space stations, and intergalactic shopping districts. There are always species that do not tolerate one another for whatever reason. I don’t often see a blanket disavowal for all foreign life-forms, but such intolerance does not surprise me at all.”
I sigh as I pull open the big glass doors to the movie theater. The scent of salty buttery popcorn hits my face. “That makes sense, but it’s still disappointing.”
Here in the theater, we encounter a much larger percentage of aliens enjoying their own days off. A couple of years back, a 3D gaming arcade was added just off the lobby and was outfitted with all the most popular games that other alien species seem to know. Kila is not interested in that area though. He is more amused by watching me go through the rigamarole of purchasing the tickets, a bucket of popcorn, two lemonades, and a bag of chocolates.
“Is this to be our main sustenance for the day?” he asks once I’ve explained the food options. “Sugar and popped grain kernels?”
“What’s your point?” I say, grabbing a handful of the most buttery bits and shoving it in my mouth.
We find our seats and settle in. I hand Kila the popcorn bucket while I open the chocolates and set the lemonades into the cupholder. Once I’ve got everything set up, I cozy up in the chair. I glance at Kila and find he’s as rigid as a board, clutching the bucket and staring straight ahead like he’s on assignment.
“Will you relax?” I poke one shoulder to indicate he should lean back and start feeling around for the button that will make his seat recline. When the chair starts to move backward, he jerks and grabs for the armrests, causing some popcorn to topple over.
“I am sorry,” he says quickly, frowning. “Is it required to lie back like this? Is it not strange to lay down in front of all these others? It feels vulnerable.”
“Vulnerable to what?” I look around at the other movie-goers, none of whom are paying any attention to us. I lean over and whisper conspiratorially, “You think those teens are planning a sneak attack? That skinny one looks shifty.”
“Very funny,” he says flatly. He shifts around, wiggling his shoulders before he lays back stiffly. “I suppose this is comfortable.”
“Just pretend we’re snuggling in bed,” I suggest, leaning over the arm rest to nestle against his shoulder and stroke his forearm. “Forget everyone else is here.”
“That is terrible advice, Ella. I’ll soon have an erection that way,” he says.
That comment draws the attention of the human couple behind us. One of them coughs with surprise, and I snort with laughter. I move to pull away, but he quickly grasps my hand.
“No, stay,” he sighs. “If it happens, I would rather suffer it and enjoy your touch.”
I chuckle. “Okay but keep your voice down. It’s not appropriate to talk about that kind of thing in public.”
“More human nonsense,” he mutters. “You mean to tell me that your species is willing to obscenely mate with random, potentially incompatible persons at any time but they shy away from speaking of sexual matters in public?”
“Yeah, and everything your species does makes sense,” I snipe. “Now shush, the movie is starting. You can’t talk while it’s on.”
“Very well,” he whispers, and the theater falls quiet to the sound of the opening credits.
Through two and a half hours of action, explosions, classic Bond romance, and egotistical villains, I cannot help myself from stealing glances at Kila’s reactions. He is clearly riveted, watching with brows furrowed thoughtfully from start to finish. When its finally ended and the lights come up inside the theater, I tap the top of his hand and say, “Wellllll…? What did you think?”
He blinks slowly and wrinkles his nose. “This man… would not make a very good viki.”
I laugh as we get up and start shuffling toward the exit with the rest of the crowd. “It’s not meant to be realistic. It’s entertainment.”
“Do your human spies go around causing explosions and drawing attention to themselves via fornicating with mated females?”
“He was getting information—”
“There are many planets on which fornicating with the mate of another male will result in painful death or public torture,” he explains. “As a newly mated male, I am beginning to understand why such things may occur.”
“Mated male, huh?” I shake my head. “So presumptuous.”
He turns with a worrying lip. “I don’t mean to be,” he says quickly. “But you must realize that for Kar’Kali, there will be no other female. Even if you don’t wish to be with me, Ella. I didn’t mean anything untoward by it.”
“Well, anyway, James Bond can handle himself.” I change the subject away from this stomach-churning talk of life-long commitment. You’re the one that asked him out, I remind myself. “Besides, on Earth, sleeping around isn’t exactly a cover-blowing offense. Guys do it all the time and no one suspects they’re a spy just because they screw anything on two legs.”
“I suppose, biologically, human males feel they must spread their seed to create the best chance for successful offspring. They are fertile at all times, after all,” he reasons.
“You some kind of cheater apologist?” I mutter, squishing the empty popcorn bucket into an overflowing trash can. The reminder of all the cheaters I’ve dated brings a jolt of irritation to me, and my footsteps speed up as I cross the carpeted lobby. I need fresh air. Be careful what you wish for, people always say. I spent so long bemoaning my string of commitment-phobes and two-timing sweet-talkers… Lo and behold, an alien appears with a hormone spike that’s telling him to wife me up on sight and stop at nothing to have me. Why does the thought of it scare me? Isn’t it exactly what I wanted? To have one man that only has eyes for me?
“What does that mean?” he asks, following at my heels like a puppy.
“Nothing,” I sigh, pushing open the door and taking a deep gulp of fresh autumn air. “What kind of food should we try, hm?”
“It does not sound like nothing,” he says.
“Chinese, maybe? Or sushi? Do you like fish?” I make my way briskly down the sidewalk.
“Stop, and speak to me,” he insists, tugging on my wrist to grab my attention. “I know you do not like to upset others by saying things they do not wish to hear, but I do not want it to be that way between us. You can tell me anything and I will try to understand. Did it upset you that I presume to be your mate?”
I blink and draw up short. I let him pull me away from the main flow on the pavement, keeping me from getting bumped from behind by the fast-walking woman behind us.
“How… do you know that?” I ask. “I didn’t… I mean… We barely know eachother?”
He shrugs. “I pay close attention to you. I think you are too kind to upset others. Maybe you didn’t notice, but I watched you all the while I was ignoring you. You never tell Pakka when he is annoying you by over-explaining simple tasks that you already know how to complete—”
“He’s a man-splainer,” I agree.
“You never stop Kiva when he is talking to you for far longer than you have the time or patience to listen,” he says. I smile a little at that. Kiva is so enthusiastic; it’s hard to interrupt him without feeling bad. “You did not tell that man in the parking lot to leave you alone. The one I believe wished to court you as a mating partner.”
“Kila!” I slap at his chest lightly. “Were you eavesdropping when you stalked me?”
“I happened to be under the nearby vehicle,” he says sheepishly.
“You are so bad,” I laugh, just imagining him all stiff and serious while lying under a car, waiting for me to get on the bus.
“As I said, you do not need to extend this treatment towards me,” he says.
“It’s not you,” I sigh out. “Look, let’s walk and talk. This way.” I steer him to the left down an alley that will lead us to a less populated area. He falls into step beside me. The sun is shining and the air is crisp. It’s a beautif
ul day.
“The conversation just reminded me of some shitty past relationships, that’s all,” I tell him. “I don’t know. I’ve fallen for a few guys that just couldn’t commit and I always dreamed I’d find someone that wanted me so bad that I would never even have to fear they’d cheat on me. I never want to feel that insecurity again. It eats at you, even if you have no reason to suspect them…”
“You are telling me that males you were mating … chose to mate another without your knowledge?” he repeats the words as though they are a particularly confusing math equation.
“Oh yeah. More than a few times. Maybe I just have ‘doormat’ tattooed on my forehead, I don’t know,” I groan. “And I’ve been over it, I really have. It’s just… Life is funny, you know? Sometimes it gives you just what you wanted in the least convenient packaging.”
“I understand only half of what you just said,” he says. “But who are these males? Are they mentally incompetent?”
“You sound like my brother,” I say, rolling my eyes. We’re strolling by the local park entrance now, so I hook my arm in his elbow and steer him down the entry path. The leaves have turned colors and started collecting in pretty piles all throughout the green grass. “But no, in fact, some of them were damn smart or very successful people. I mean, one of them works at the facility, too, as a research assistant. No… I just don’t know how to pick ‘em.”
“At the facility, hm?” He turns to me and grins. “It would be very convenient to pay this male a friendly visit, then.”
“Very sweet of you to offer, but I think that’s just what Pakka’s most afraid of, isn’t it?”
His amusement fades to a deep frown. “I suppose you are right.”
With an immediate pang of guilt, I lean to squeeze his shoulder and bump him with my hip. “Oh, don’t get down, okay? You were joking, weren’t you? We’re supposed to be having fun. Let’s just relax and enjoy a nice day.”
“I am relaxed when I am with you and you are happy,” he says. “So forget about these males. I know I’d like to. You know now that I think it… these wouldn’t be the same males you said you would—?”