Chapter 9

The selective permeability of their wall admitted the warm evening breeze, redolent with the scent of brine and night-blooming flowers, and Vasiht’h couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well. His dreams overflowed with memories of home, twined with sensory impressions: sand under his pawpads, the feel of sun-heated fur on his back, the taste of pink drinks: tropical fruit and sweetness. He woke refreshed, stretching in the nest of pillows he’d made beside Jahir’s bed, and found his friend peeping at him from beneath his cocoon of blankets, because even in warm weather the Eldritch refused to sleep without several layers over him.

/Good?/ Jahir asked, the sending wreathed with laughter like champagne bubbles.

“All right, I could get used to this,” Vasiht’h admitted. And grinned. “But just in case familiarity breeds contempt I’m glad we’re only staying a week. I’d hate to lose my wonder over it.” He slid out from amid the pillows and stretched, forelegs splayed before him and tail behind. “Breakfast?”

Jahir sat up, braid sliding over his shoulder. “If I must.”

“You’re taking a test, you need a good breakfast. Let’s go see what the hotel has.”

Acquiescence in the mindline in this case felt like blushing. Vasiht’h hid his amusement and went to freshen up.

The hotel had multiple breakfast options, as one might have expected from its expense. Vasiht’h decided against ordering into their room in favor of the buffet, which was set up in the open air plaza. He hovered while his partner made his choices, because he didn’t want Jahir to undereat this week of all weeks, and then trotted alongside the Eldritch to the nearest Pad. The hotel had five public-facing ones, because of course it did. Why force its clients to come down by shuttle when they could walk?

“Good luck today,” Vasiht’h told him. “You’ll do great, I know.”

“Thank you, arii,” Jahir said. “You’ll be… seeing cetaceans?”

“If I can schedule it,” Vasiht’h said. “Otherwise, I’ll keep busy.” He grinned. “Shouldn’t be hard.”

Jahir laughed, quiet. “No, I imagine not. I will return.”

Vasiht’h saw him off and sighed as the mindline went diffuse and tenuous. He’d spent time apart from Jahir, but the attenuation of the mindline never ceased to mystify and disturb him. Why should something mental be subject to laws that dictated physical behavior? How did it work, anyway? Something quantum? Vasiht’h thought of himself and Jahir as two objects vibrating in sympathy and found the imagery charming and amusing.

“Well, that’s that,” he said. “Time to do something with myself.”

The whale show was apparently popular; when Vasiht’h tried to book it, the first available slot wasn’t for another two days. He scheduled that and studied today’s list of activities, decided tentatively on a walk along the beach, a massage at the spa, and then a show with air dancers. He couldn’t not investigate the latter, because if he saw it first, he’d be able to anticipate Jahir’s wonder at the sight when he took the Eldritch later.

This was, he thought, another situation like Jahir’s arrival to Seersana U, where the Glaseah got the pleasure of re-experiencing the Alliance through his partner’s eyes. Except by now he was so used to Jahir’s reaction to novel experiences that Vasiht’h could plan his own adventures so that he could enjoy them twice: once because they were new to him, and again vicariously through Jahir. How lucky was he?

Grinning, he went to the day.

There was little exciting about a test, no matter how momentous. Jahir reported to the lecture hall and was assigned his desk—the one he’d chosen during Orientation, he noted—where he was then isolated by a privacy screen, which fascinated him. He’d observed during his tenure at the university that most every interface in the Alliance could tessellate into unreadability when a privacy screen was activated. He’d expected this test to use that technology to prevent cheating, as the university had. But to have the field on, muting the noises outside his immediate area as well, felt like a courtesy. It minimized distractions.

While he waited for the testing to begin, he evaluated his mental state. Was he worried? Not at all. Nervous? Not that either. Nor guilty. There was no choice now but to go through with his course, for to do otherwise would be to waste the money and time spent arranging this, and to disappoint his partner.

“Day one of three,” Song of Wine Skies at Sunset intoned from the front of the room. “Commend your souls to your gods, aletsen. Commence.”

Hiding his smile, Jahir turned his attention to the interface as the first question appeared.

“So a Glaseah!” the human said. “How does that work? I mean, so many limbs?”

The cream-colored tabby Asanii beside her covered her face with her hands. If she could have sunk into the bench in the spa’s waiting room, Vasiht’h was certain she would have. “Don’t mind her, please, she just blurts the first thing that comes to mind.”

“Actually, it was the third thing that came to mind,” the human said cheerfully before peering again at Vasiht’h. “The first two would probably have been even more annoying! Maybe?”

“Definitely?” Vasiht’h guessed, taking a chance on the woman’s demeanor, and—

The human laughed. “Yes! You get it! Poor Gladdie, I don’t know why she puts up with me.” She offered her hand, then stopped mid-reach and turned it palm-up. “Oops, sorry. I keep forgetting. Hi! I’m Kristyl, and this is my best friend Gladiolus.”

“I hate that name,” the Asanii muttered.

They were a pretty pair, young women both, the Asanii’s soft ivory fur only faintly darkened by gingery stripes and her long, pale hair tucked up into a chignon with wooden hairsticks. Her human friend had skin a few shades darker, and light brown hair that fell in glossy waves over her bare shoulders. They were both in swimsuits and sandals, the Asanii’s more demure in color and cut than the human’s.

“We’re here for massages too,” Kristyl said, ignoring what was probably her friend’s recurring complaint. “This is my first time off-planet. Except I’m on a planet. I mean this is my first time out of the Sol system. I’ve never been this far into the Alliance. Except it’s more like it’s out of the Alliance, isn’t it?”

Amused, Vasiht’h said, “It’s not far from the Core, really. By our standards, it’s still in the Alliance. You’d have to keep going into the colonies to hit the lawn.”

“The lawn!” Kristyl said, delighted. “Like there’s a house and if you’re not in a house, you’re on the lawn! I love it!” She leaned forward, green eyes sparkling. “Metaphors are fun.”

“She likes to take things literally,” the Asanii murmured.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing for me.” Kristyl patted her friend’s arm. “I know I drive you crazy but that doesn’t make you responsible for my behavior.”

“It does if we’re seen together,” Gladiolus said, ears sagging, but she was smiling, and it was a helpless smile Vasiht’h had felt moving his features once too often. “Because people have expectations.”

“Stupid ones, often,” Kristyl said decisively. “But back to you! What’s your name? And are you here alone or do you also have a long-suffering friend to ride herd on you and die inside at all your faux pas?”

“Oh my,” Vasiht’h said, laughing. “Do you really think that about yourself?”

“No,” the human replied, cheerful. “But I can see where other people might so I save them the trouble of thinking it and feeling uncomfortable about hiding it.”

Vasiht’h grinned. “Well, I see why your friend likes you. You’re irrepressible, and it’s adorable.”

“I assure you it gets tiresome after a while,” Kristyl said. “That’s why I dote on Gladdie. She never gets angry at me for long. Even when she’s had to listen to me run on and on for hours.”

“No one’s so perfect that they don’t have a few tiresome habits,” Vasiht’h said. “I’m Vasiht’h, and yes, I’m with someone, but he’s on the station for business. He’ll be joining me in a couple of days. I’m taking in all the sights, see which ones I think would interest him most.”

“You think he’d like a massage?” Kristyl asked, interested.

“No, that’s for me,” Vasiht’h told her. “Because to your original question, I have no idea how it’s going to work with all the limbs, and I want to find out.”

“An adventurer, like me!” the human crowed. She tugged on her friend’s arm. “We should have lunch after. Are you busy?”

“Kris—”

“I’m asking,” the human said. “He can say no!”

“You haven’t given him a way to refuse without being rude!”

“Oh, mm. You’re right.” To Vasiht’h, “I’m sorry. That was abrupt, wasn’t it.”

Vasiht’h laughed. “I’d love to have lunch after. My unlikely massage needs an hour and a half. Maybe we can meet at the plaza and decide what to do from there?”

“Great! We’ll see you there! Oh, hey, they’re calling us up. Later!”

As the human vanished down the breezeway after the sarong-wrapped Harat-Shar attendant, her friend paused, ears bright red. “Ah… about all this… she… grows on you?”

“You don’t have to explain her to me,” Vasiht’h said. “I understand completely.”

“You really can bow out if you have other plans….”

“I don’t,” Vasiht’h said. “You should go, they’re waiting for you!”

The Asanii exhaled, smiled. “All right. Thanks.” And trotted off after the human. Vasiht’h watched her vanish around the corner and chuckled to himself. He had no doubt Gladiolus had suffered for her friend’s ebullience more than once. For his part, he found Kristyl’s attitude preferable to the one he often found in humans visiting the Alliance… which tended toward far less positive engagement with what they found.

An adventurer, though! He shook his head, bemused. That was the last way he would have chosen to characterize himself! And just because he was willing to get a massage? But that was hardly a risk worthy of an adventurous personality! A hedonist one, though… someone called his name and he rose. He supposed he was about to find out, and then he’d have the chance to tell Kristyl all about it.

“They did what!” Kristyl said, giggling. “No possible way.”

“It’s completely the truth.” Vasiht’h rested his hand over his heart and bowed his head. “They brought in two more people.”

“Three people!” Gladiolus sounded dazed. “That sounds decadent. How can they even afford it?”

“Oh, look at this place, would you?” Kristyl waved a hand at the view, the palms nodding in the breeze, the drinks, which this time had three separate colored layers: yellow, blue, and orange, with umbrella in green and a chunk of pineapple on the sugar-encrusted rim. “You think they don’t charge enough to have a separate masseuse for every limb of a centauroid client?”

“Technically they had a separate therapist for every two of my functional limbs,” Vasiht’h said. “But it was still…” He let the words die off, chuckled. “It was definitely decadent.”

“Ours was good too,” Kristyl said, cheerful. “We had them on an open deck, and you could hear the surf, and feel the sea breeze on your skin. And I think the Harat-Shar working on me would have had sex with me if I’d asked, which was kind of ridiculous? But flattering? Maybe? Except, don’t they have sex with anyone?”

Gladiolus had her head in her hands again, but Vasiht’h could just see the smile her palms hid. “They don’t want to have sex with everyone, arii. That’s just…”

“An urban myth? I like those.” Kristyl brightened as a waiter came by with their food: an enormous bowl of coconut-crusted prawns on a bed of something that looked like it involved diced mango, along with a mound of sweetly fragrant rice tossed with some kind of dark green leafy vegetable. “But I didn’t think that was an urban myth. More like… a Pelted legend!”

“Just as long as you don’t expect all Harat-Shar to have sex with you, you’re fine,” Vasiht’h said. “They’re not all alike, you know.”

Kristyl darted him a merry look, like she was sharing a secret. “I had no idea. I thought, you know, point of cultural pride! Besides, I’m human, don’t I qualify as an exotic experience?”

Gladiolus moaned under her hands.

Vasiht’h said to Kristyl, “You try to make her do this, don’t you.”

The human ladled a healthy serving of the dish onto Vasiht’h’s plate. “She’s way too worried about what other people think of her. I’m just helping with that. You know.”

“I do.” Vasiht’h glanced at the Asanii. “So, how did the two of you meet?”

“On Terra—” Gladiolus paused, glancing at her friend with a soft, bemused smile. “I guess the whole ‘never been off-planet’ thing gave that away, though?”

“Possibly,” Vasiht’h said, over a forkful of the dish, which was savory and tangy and sweet in ways he instantly wanted to deconstruct. The coconut milk was obvious. Was the peppery taste solely the mango, or had they added something to intensify it? “But I never let that kind of thing get in the way of a good story.” He thought of Rexina Regina and all his sisters’ endless commentary. “Anyway, I like spoilers.”

Kristyl guffawed. “Me too.”

Ignoring them, Gladiolus continued. “Right, so, I went to Terra, because my field of study was history and I wanted to really understand the Rapprochement.” The Asanii stirred her drink absently until the colored layers broke and made whorls against the glass. “There was a Study Abroad program at my university on Asanao that would send you to live on Earth for a couple of years, and you’d tour the important sites there, and on Mars, and visit the Moon and all the places with historical significance both prior to our arrival and during the events of the Rapprochement. And it was really fascinating.”

“That’s how she met me,” Kristyl agreed. “I was at the university that hosted the Study Abroad program and she got assigned to my dorm room.” She beamed. “It was love at first sight.”

Vasiht’h glanced at the Asanii curiously, found her blushing brightly at the ears.

“I’m allowed to say that, right?” Kristyl said. “Cross-species friends forever stuff isn’t weird once you’re out of the sticks? Besides, he’s a Glaseah, they’re supposed to get that sort of thing.”

Gladiolus reached over and put her hand on the human’s wrist, squeezed. “It’s always all right to say that sort of thing, because it’s true.” She sighed, sheepish. “Although, yes, he’s probably not going to misinterpret it. Sometimes I think you say things just to be outrageous.”

“On purpose?” Kristyl gasped dramatically. “Would I do that?”

“Even I know you’d do that,” Vasiht’h said, and made them both laugh.

“Anyway, ever since we’ve been doing things together,” Gladiolus said. “And we just graduated, so I thought… why don’t we do some outrageous thing to celebrate?”

“I’m rich,” Kristyl said, unperturbed, reaching for the bowl to reload her plate.

“She is!” Gladiolus said. “She’s paying for everything!”

“Paying for everything’s fun.” Kristyl licked her fingertips of some of the coconut sauce and resumed eating. “Also, I love the way she has to tell everyone that, because everyone thinks all humans are poor. Kind of like everyone thinks all Harat-Shar want to have sex with everything.”

“Is this the part where I act shocked and say ‘wait, not all humans are poor?’” Vasiht’h asked, bemused.

“Sure!” Kristyl said. “And then I say, ‘nope, some of us are filthy rich! Like me!’” She laughed. “I admit, I really like people’s reactions to that, because people really do think we’re all poor. I bet you’re thinking it too: ‘wait, a rich human? That doesn’t happen! How did that happen!’” She pointed her fork at Vasiht’h. “And I’ll tell you how. Construction. My family’s been in construction for generations. And Terra needed a lot of it.” She sucked on her straw and ahhed. “Anyway. I’m a trust fund baby and that’s okay, because I’m going to use my powers—my filthy rich powers—for good.”

“Like taking your best friend to a ridiculously overpriced resort planet as a graduation gift,” Gladiolus said fondly.

“Exactly. Exactly that.”

“So, are you shocked, just shocked at the rich human?” Kristyl asked cheerfully.

“No,” Vasiht’h admitted. “I was more wondering how Gladdie feels about being your plus one.”

“I love it,” Gladiolus said, laughing. “I would never have seen any place like this without Kristyl.”

“See, I think that’s fair, because I would never have seen any place off Earth without her,” Kristyl said. “I had the money, but I would have felt weird without a friend to tour it with. And to apologize for me.” She grinned at the Asanii, who grinned back.

“So tell us about you and your friend?” Gladiolus said.

“Oh,” Vasiht’h said, guessing how this would go. “He’s an Eldritch.”

“WHAT!” Kristyl howled. “Oh my amazing GOD, I can’t even imaaaaagine do we get to see him? Are they as unreal as they are in pictures? Do they have sex with anything because I’d love to!”

“Kristyl!”

“Sorry, not sorry,” Kristyl pressed her hands to her cheeks. “But are you serious??”

Vasiht’h was trying hard not to laugh. “I am, yes. And yes, I’ll tell you the story.”

“Oh thank goodness.” Kristyl waved the waiter over. “Thank you so much for delicious food please bring us more of these colored drinks!” She slurped the last of hers. “We’re going to need it, so need it for this, I just know it.”

“A human,” Jahir repeated, bemused. “And an Asanii.”

“Are dying to meet you,” Vasiht’h answered, the mindline bubbling with mirth that tasted like… some kind of fruit-flavored cocktail? Jahir licked his teeth, trying to identify flavors he hadn’t actually tasted. Apricot? Peach? Lime? “And I’m not sure that’s hyperbole, either. If you’d rather not have them fawning over you I’ll make sure we’re conveniently unavailable when you’re done with your test.”

“You like them,” Jahir guessed, from the effervescent pleasure washing through the mindline.

“Oh, they’re fun.” The Glaseah laughed, watching him change into something less stifling for their trip down the beach to the performance. “I’ve agreed to gad around with them while you’re busy. It’s better than doing everything by myself. There’s only so many calls I can log to my sister before she throws a pillow across interstellar space at me.”

Jahir glanced at him. “You are not lonely?”

“Not even!” Vasiht’h sat up. “Don’t think that, not for a moment. If I don’t like something about this situation, I can easily change it. Like I did, deciding to do things with these two. If I hadn’t met them, it would have been someone else.” He chuckled. “The way Kristyl accretes people, it might end up being several more someone elses, even.”

“She has a way about her,” Jahir guessed, finding the mindline cryptic when he sought impressions of the two.

“Ridiculously, yes.” Vasiht’h squinted. “You sure you want even that much by way of clothes? It’s hot out.”

“I shall burn without it,” Jahir said. “And when the sun goes down, the breeze will be cooler.”

“I guess that’s true.” Vasiht’h rose to follow him out the door. “How did the testing go?”

“It was not difficult.” After the grueling experiences on Seersana, pushing his degree through in as little time as possible, and then the gauntlet he’d run in Heliocentrus, Jahir’s grasp on matters medical had become nigh instinctive. Learning additional material during his correspondence courses had been pleasure, not difficulty, and being tested on them felt like a leisurely ride under sunlight. Exertion, but satisfying. “I believe I will not waste our time.”

“I never thought you would,” Vasiht’h answered, fond. “Anyway, music now, and food. And colored drinks.”

Jahir sampled the mindline again. “That taste of fruit.”

“They make them in layers, so if you drink them with a straw you go through different flavors! If you stir them, though, it tastes like fruit punch. And doesn’t turn brown, and I’d like to know how they manage that.”

“I did not know you to love alcohol,” Jahir said, bemused.

“I didn’t either, until they put umbrellas in it.” Vasiht’h laughed. “They all come in non-alcoholic versions, though. The ones without them are mostly sugar. A lot of sugar, granted, though without the crash, and that’s another thing I wonder about. This place is apparently magical.”

“Speaking of magic, we should spend some time on the station when we’re done,” Jahir said as they strolled down the path toward the beach, where the sun was staining the sky orange near the horizon. “There are marvels there you would appreciate.”

“Oh?” Vasiht’h glanced up at him.

“Also, interesting food.”

Vasiht’h laughed. “Then of course we’ll have to make a point of stopping on the way out. But really, look at this.” He stopped in front of the beach, spreading his arms. “Those colors. How do they even do that without clouds?”

“It is rather mysterious.” Jahir paused alongside him, facing into the breeze, and lifted his head to feel it on his face. He felt his partner still and do the same, savoring the sensation not just on his own cheeks, but on Jahir’s as well, so much more sensitive without the fur. “It is beautiful here.”

“I love it,” Vasiht’h said. “Obviously I should have lived by the ocean all my life. It’s too bad the starbase doesn’t have one.”

“Not in the city-sphere, certainly. Perhaps one day we will live someplace like this.”

“Maybe,” Vasiht’h said. “Anyway, we’re going that way.”

That way involved a knot of people on the beach, and eventually resolved into a demonstration of firedancing while accompanied by a choir so tightly rehearsed they seemed to have a single voice. The sight of the dancers, silhouetted by the setting sun as they leaped with their flaring staves, was mesmerizing.

“How fortunate we are,” Jahir said to Vasiht’h on the way back to their room.

“Aren’t we just,” Vasiht’h replied, contented.