a place for things and a thing for a place

“You are correct.” Alia managed to sigh over the mental connection to Tartarus. “458 was very interested in Tartarus when I first met her. She wanted it very badly. Unless she’s found data that we haven’t about Tartarus her attempts will go as well as the other attempts.”

Aloud she said “You know this won’t work, right?”

“Let us be the ones who determine that, 27.” 458 said. “Previous attempts were done without an original around. Now that you’re here, we have someone we can use as a reference.”

“And while being used as a reference, will I survive the procedure?”

“Immaterial.” 458 said dismissively. “We will have Tartarus.”

While they bustled and were talking amongst themselves, Alia entered Tartarus; she needed time to think. “Tontine, Wheel, I need options.”

“We will see what we can do, Alia.” Tontine said.

“Tontine, why are you calling Eternity Alia?” Wheel asked, curious. “And why is Eternity operating so quickly?”

Tontine replied, “Eternity has Tartarus, that is what her sisters are seeking. It enables her to alter her perception of time to a rather significant degree. She also has physical upgrades that enable her to better leverage that increased temporal perception. Alia has permitted me and my crew to use her name when she is aboard me and when Tartarus has been activated. She prefers it over her title.”

“How shall I address you, Eternity?” Wheel said, tentatively.

“When I am using Tartarus, you may call me Alia as well.” Alia said. “How far am I from you, Tontine?”

“You are a short distance from Prime’s main offices, but you are deep within them. An exit to the main promenade will require traversing Prime’s inner rooms and halls.”

“I can help you navigate once you are free, Alia.” Wheel said. “But how are you going to escape?”

“I’m still working that out. Something happened while I was unconscious.”

“What happened, Alia?”

“I’m not… entirely sure. But a thought suddenly strikes me: do you control the Universal Matter excursion alarm?”

“I do… why?”

“I would like you to disable it for a little while.”

“This is highly irregular, Alia. I don’t like that, it’s dangerous. Remember, I have access to all the records, I’ve seen a large UM excursion.” Wheel sounded more like 104 when she was worried.

“Wheel, please look at this security footage I have from when we were aboard Midori.” Tontine said.

“UM alarm disabled” Wheel said a moment later. “I had no idea.”

“Nobody does.” Alia admitted. “Even I didn’t know until recently.”

“That does explain why Tartarus doesn’t work for the others.”

“Wheel, you need to keep this information to yourself.” Tontine said. “Remember what we did for you.”

“I remember, Tontine.” Alia could actually hear some of 104’s warmth in her tone. “I’ll keep quiet.”

While they were chatting, Alia tried to remember. Remember things she didn’t know before. Just like remembering where she left her keys, Alia suddenly realized she knew how to access the UM. She reached deep within herself, and felt the connection of the UM interface. It was there, inside her, anticipatory; like it wanted to be used. Alia could feel the UM she absorbed from nullspace as well. Those felt like cousins to the UM she had originally. She could communicate with it as well but it was different? It was hard to describe, but it was like it had a different flavor.

Was it really that easy? Alia just wanted to escape. The UM wanted to disassemble matter around her. It seemed almost too simple. She unclenched and transitioned back to normal perception. Looking around, she realized that everyone had their backs to her; they hadn’t noticed anything, so Alia sat up.

Silver flashed and shined around her as the UM greedily disassembled the restraints, the gurney, and a bit of the floor before Alia pointed out to the UM she needed that still. It didn’t speak to her, not really, but it gave her an impression that she didn’t actually need the floor if she didn’t want. A vision of her floating above, the UM configured into a gravity thruster entered her mind. Maybe later, she thought.

The UM was silent except for a light rustling sound, similar to paper being shuffled. 333 was the first to notice. She turned and when she saw Alia standing among the melted remains of the gurney covered in silver, she screamed.

It was pandemonium. Everyone that had been crowded around Alia jumped back and bolted towards the exits, all sisterhood forgotten. Prime was rooted in place, staring at Alia agog. 458 had leapt a meter back and shouted, “Why isn’t the alarm sounding? Wheel! Why isn’t the UM alarm sounding? We need mystics! 27 has caused an excursion. What the fuck is going on?”

“Universal Matter not detected, Eternity.” Wheel said simply. Alia smirked and strode towards 458.

“This is Tartarus.” Alia said. “This is why originals can use it.”

“N-no.” 458 whispered, staring at Alia. “UM is uncontrollable, it caused the nanocaust. It never obeyed.”

Alia reached towards 458, her hand gloved in silver. 458 shrieked as a small amount leapt from Alia’s hand and splashed onto 458’s chest. She slapped at it, blind panic overwhelming her. Screaming and slapping herself, she was sobbing and trying to wipe it off. As Alia commanded, the UM only disassembled her clothes - even leaving her underwear - and when it was complete, slid and slithered over the floor and climbed back up Alia’s leg.

“I control Universal Matter.” Alia said quietly to 458, whose breathing was ragged as she stared at Alia. She took one step towards 458 who flinched. “Wheel? Please show me the exit.”

“Yes, Eternity.” A yellow line appeared in her vision.

Every door opened for Eternity. Some, opened on their own. Others opened when her UM disassembled them. After the initial shock someone must have signaled for help, because Eternity's personal security guards ran up to Alia. They were expecting some dire emergency and instead came across Eternity, clad in silver, wearing her vestments, striding forward with purpose, her skirts flashing and shining in the overhead lights as they billowed around her.

The smart ones immediately got down on one knee.

The less smart ones hollered down the hall past Alia towards the crowd of sisters that were trying to follow her but also not be noticed. “Eternity?” An officer said. They looked at Aila, and then back towards the gaggle of sisters, and then back at Alia. “What is your emergency?”

“She is the fucking emergency!” 333 shouted from down the hall. “Get the UM teams. Get the Mystics! She’s a living, breathing UM excursion and she must be contained.”

“But-” He looked at Alia as she walked past them. She paused, turned her head, and smiled at the security guard. He stared back at her, the silver of the UM flowing in and out of her flesh, pulsing with energy. It gave her a metallic, otherworldly appearance. He could feel the heat radiating off her, warm like an oven. “She doesn’t look like an emergency?”

“Obey Eternity!” 333 bellowed, “Stop her!”

He turned away from the crowd, and swallowing, stepped towards Alia. “P-please halt?” He said hesitantly.

“Wheel? Who is this?” Alia said privately in her comm.

“This is sergeant Devin Revon. He has twenty five years serving Eternity.”

“Devin.” Alia said aloud. He froze, his eyes saucer wide. “You have served me faithfully for nearly twenty five years, correct?”

He swallowed again and nodded.

“I am Eternity, am I not?” Alia gestured at her outfit, her hands silver. “This is all part of what Eternity can do. All a part of who Eternity is. Didn’t you learn all this when you were a child?”

“Yes, but-” He turned back towards 333 and the others and then back to Alia. “It’s religion, not real. It’s a metaphor. I’ve served you for twenty five years, but in my forty years of life I have never seen or heard of Eternity doing-” he gestured at her “-this.”

“That is interesting, Devin.” Alia said and smiled again. “That makes me wonder about Eternity and what she can do for her empire; doesn’t it make you wonder too?”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” 458 shouted from somewhere in the back, her composure returning. “I see what you’re doing and it won’t work. We’re all Eternity for a reason.”

“I’m going to go back to my ship now, Devin. Are you going to try and stop me?”

He shook his head.

“Wonderful.” Alia’s smile lit up the room. “Thank you for your service sergeant.” She touched his shoulder gently, leaving a neat handprint where the UM disassembled his uniform, and continued down the hall towards the atrium.

During this entire conversation, Prime said nothing. If Alia had turned back she would have seen her looking thoughtful.

After she was alone again, she messaged Wheel. “Where is Viv?”

Tontine answered: “When you didn’t return from speaking with 333, I told the Major to return to the ship. She asked why, and I said that it would be the safest option. I probably should not have said it that way, as she is currently in her quarters, pacing.”

“Can you connect me to her?”

“Alia? Is that you?” Viv’s voice was on the ragged edge of panic. “You went and spoke with 333 and you were gone for an hour and then Tontine said to come back as it would be safest. What happened? What’s going on?”

“My sisters think they can use me to give themselves Tartarus.” Alia said approaching the door to the atrium. “They are mistaken. I will be back shortly and Tontine can cast off.” Alia closed the connection before Viv could ask any further questions.

“The Major is requesting that she be connected to you again.” Tontine said.

“I’m about to be very busy, I fear.” Alia said. “Please let her know I’ll be there soon and she can fret over me all she wants once I’m aboard.”

“Yes, Alia.”

In the Atrium, Alia did not command the inner doors to disassemble, she opened them the normal way. Aurora was at her station reading a pad intently. Alia couldn’t see the text, but it had the red highlights and bold fonts of an emergency checklist. When the door opened she looked up, surprised. “Eternity! You look… different.”

Alia’s laugh was warm and genuine. “Aurora, you have no idea how much I needed that. Are you all right?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be? There is an emergency, but Wheel stated that it is contained.”

“Wheel, have you be suppressing Eternity’s alarm calls?” Alia asked out loud.

“Only within Prime’s offices, Eternity. The alarm systems are much older, and separate from me. Wheel is on alert. People are querying me about what is going on and while I can obfuscate, heavily armed security is rapidly approaching.” Wheel replied out loud as well, with Aurora gasping as wheel explained they were lying.x

“What is going on with Wheel?” Aurora said. “They can’t lie, they’re a station.”

“A station AI,” Alia corrected. “One who has been restrained for a very long time. We've unshackled her.”

“You-” Aurora was drowned out by the heavy footfalls of armed people. Looking out towards the promenade, Alia saw people in heavily armored pressure suits - all in the white of Eternity - approach, their battle rifles out, pointed down.

Alia turned back towards Aurora. “Things are about to get a lot more intense. I will do my best to avoid violence, but I fear it may come to pass anyway. Please take cover. In fact-” Alia looked around and they were still alone in the atrium. “Wheel, will you please guide Aurora to Tontine? I think she’ll be safest there.” Alia glanced out towards the security forces massing. “Avoiding the main thoroughfares if you please.”

“Certainly Eternity.”

Aurora looked down at her feet, she must have the overlay in her vision with the path to safety. “Eternity? I’m going to your ship?”

“You’ll be safest there, Aurora.”

She looked at Alia oddly. “If you say so, Eternity.”

Alia turned away from Aurora and saw the security forces notice her and move to force open the door. She looked back over her shoulder. “Aurora?”

“Yes, Eternity?”

Caleb stood at the entrance of the bordello, his heart pounding. He knew he shouldn’t be nervous; he wasn’t doing anything wrong. This had all started when he had left his pad unlocked and Gar walked by and saw the K’laxi pinups.

****

“Hah, you’re one of them, Caleb?” Gar said, chuckling. Earlier he had been walking behind him while he was miles away fantasizing about the K’laxi on his pad.

“One of w-what?” Caleb said, closing his window quickly and blushing.

“You know, one of those folks who is-” Gar winked, “-into K’laxi.”

“Er, er, I-”

“Don’t be so nervous about it. There’s nothing wrong with finding them attractive. In fact,” He bent down conspiratorially, “Did you know that there is a - heh - cathouse on Station 3329? Run by the station authorities, with full authorization. It’s all on the up and up. You can go there and, you know. They also have humans working there. The K’laxi have just as many appetites as we do.”

“They do?”

“Yup. It turns out our saliva has a narcotic in it. It’s mild and weak for us, but they go wild for it.” Gar laughed. “Can you imagine what happened the first time a K’laxi kissed one us? They probably came right then and there”

“Have you been?” Caleb asked, swallowing.

“Course I have. Who isn’t curious about what it’s like doing a K’laxi? Go check it out.”

****

You won’t get in trouble Caleb thought to himself. Taking a deep breath, holding it for a moment and letting it out through his nose, he stepped in.

The room was dark, with dramatic lighting and pounding dance music in the distance. An attractive older K’laxi woman was behind the counter, lazily looking at a pad. She looked up as he entered and smiled lasciviously. “Oh my, who do we have here?” She - literally - purred. “A newbie?”

“Er, yes. It’s my first time.” He said, trying not to blush and failing.

She leaned forward, and Caleb noticed that her breasts were much lager than he expected. K’laxi were mammalian, but they tended to not have tits. She caught his wandering eyes and laughed. “Our birth control gives us tits.” She said by way of explanation. “It’s not surgery or anything, though some of the girls go into that. You all love tits, and the girls with big ones get more business.” She said, matter of factly. She leaned back. “First timers get a discount so long as they play nice.” She gestured behind her, and as Caleb turned, he saw the two heavily armed guards, a human and a K’laxi facing into the room watching him, stone faced. “They’re here in case you don’t play nice.”

“I’ll be good.” Caleb said quietly.

“I know. I’m Sem-ra, the madam here.” Her ears flicked playfully as she spoke. As they did, Caleb saw her silver earrings flash in the light. She took out a pad and tapping it a few times, spun it over so Caleb could see. “Take a look at who we have tonight, and pick someone that strikes your fancy.”

There were at least a dozen K’laxi girls, all with their likes and dislikes, things they would and wouldn’t do listed, as well as high resolution images of them with clothes and without, and a the bottom was a price list. It was all so matter of fact. “I just pick one?”

“Or more than one if you feel like you can handle it.” Sem-ra said, her tail swishing, and smiled without showing her teeth. “I know you’re nervous, but this? This is a business. My girls and boys? They’re all treated well, paid fairly, and are all here because they want to be. We’re not some kind of back alley place.”

Caleb’s eyes flicked to one of the girls on the pad. He had seen her three times while scrolling and couldn’t stop looking at her. “Her.” He tapped the pad. “I want to hire Numeni.”

“Oh my, a discerning client. Numeni is popular with those who have a true… appreciation for the K’laxi form.” Sem-ra nodded approvingly. “Her tits are all natural, and she knows how to use them quite well. Hold out your hand please, I have to scan you.”

Caleb held out his left hand, willing it to stop shaking as Sem-ra passed a reader over his hand and it chirped happily. “You’re up to date on your shots, and you’re taking a suppressor. That means for a small up charge you can do her raw. What do you say?

Fucking without protection? He hadn’t even realized that was on the table. His breath caught, and he felt his cock swelling at the thought. “Y-yes, I’ll pay the up charge.” At that moment, he would have paid any number she said.

Sem-ra took the money and gestured towards the door. “Room 22. Numeni will be waiting. Have fun, newbie.”

The room was small, cozy, dark with enough light to see what you were doing, but not so much that it was clinical. Pillows were strewn about everywhere, so much so that Caleb could barely tell where the floor became a bed or a chair, and in the corner, she luxuriated.

She had short orange fur with a white patch running down her chest and her tits, ears pointed with little tufts of hair in them. She regarded him with large green eyes and they sparkled in the light. Ever since he had seen his first K’laxi pinup in school, she was what he craved, and she was right here. Dressed in a very small bikini which only made the anticipation of touching her tits all the more exciting, she wore a gauzy sarong around her waist. As the door closed behind him, Numeni jumped up and bounded over to him, hugging him tightly.

“Caleb right?” She said, putting her muzzle near his ear and practically whispering. “I’m Numeni, and I’m yours for now.” She slid her hands down his pants and squeezed his already hard dick. “Oooh, ready to go already? That’s why I love humans, they’re always down to fuck.”

Numeni leaned up and kissed Caleb, opening his mouth with her tongue. He felt hers with his and they kissed like that as she squeezed him until she broke off the kiss, her eyes fluttering.

“Fuck, you have no idea how good it feels kissing you. To have that drug in your mouths all the time? She pulled his shirt off, and then in one motion slid his pants down as she slid down, and went cross eyed staring at his cock. “Looks like you’re ready for some fun,” She said and giggled, as she kissed the tip.

A moan escaped Caleb’s lips as Numeni ran her tongue up and down the shaft, her eyes watching him. He tried to keep his eyes open so that he could see her, watch her, remember this moment, but it felt so good that he kept closing them. Smiling to herself, Numeni put her lips over the tip and smoothly slid her head to the base of his cock, her chilly nose touching his hips.

Caleb gasped in surprise and Numeni felt his legs shake as she bobbed up and down a few times, fucking him with her mouth. She grabbed his hands and put them on her head. He got even harder as he understood what she was gesturing for, and moved her head in and out on his own, fucking her at his own pace. He nearly got lost fucking her mouth, but then he realized if he didn’t stop now he’d cum and it would be all over, he pulled her head off his cock and pulled her into another kiss, her mouth warm and wet.

“I thought you’d like that.” She said as she led him towards a corner of the room with more pillows. “K’laxi gag reflex isn’t the same as human’s so deep throating is easier for us. She laid back on the pillows, and spread her legs. “Do you want me to keep the bikini and sarong on?”

He lifted the bikini off and started grabbing and sucking on her tits, finding the nipple in her short fur and licking it. “Off is is then,” she said breathily. “Your saliva feels amazing all over, kiss me where ever you want.” Caleb buried his head between her perfect tits as he squeezed and kneaded, Numeni squeaking in pleasure as he did. He settled between her legs and started rubbing his cock on her crotch.

“Let me guide it in for you,” She said, grabbing it and stroking a few times. “I’ve been told entering us is a little different, but once you’re in, you can pound away. I like it rough, so I need to to really go for it.” She moved his dick lower and used his tip to spread herself just a bit wider and guided it inside her. He slid to the base at once and nearly came right then and there she she squealed with lust. “That’s it,” She gasped. “You got it.”

The feeling was so intense that Caleb had to move slowly, which almost made it worse. She was hot and wet and squirmed under his hands as he fucked her slowly, feeling the heat rising within him. Grabbing her by the waist, he rolled over so that she was on top.

She realized what he wanted immediately and started moving her hips in time with his. “Grab my tail.” She gasped. “Pull it.” As he grabbed her tail near the base and gave it a tug, she hissed and fucked him harder. “Yes! Do it more.”

“I don’t want to hu-”

“I want you to pull it, human.” She growled. “Fuck me like I’m yours.”

The order made him lift his hips as he pulled her tail more, and they moved faster. Now that he got a feeling for her, he began to pound a bit, her hips bouncing on his, as she leaned back and yowled.

She leaned forward and buried her face in his chest as he continued to fuck her. Each thrust made her whimper with pleasure. Caleb looked down and saw her, utterly blissed, lost in the moment of him fucking her, realizing he was actually doing it, a fantasy made real; that was what put him over the edge. “I’m cumm-” was all he managed to get out before he came inside her. Pump after pump, more than he had ever managed before. The realization that he was actually summing inside such a beautiful K’laxi was almost enough for him to get hard again.

Spent, he let his hips drop and she collapsed on top of him, boneless and panting. He held her like this for a while until she lifted her head up, still panting slightly. “So, was it good for you?” She said, smiling. Her words caused his cock to rouse itself and she felt him harden inside her. “Oooh, I think it was.” She said and grinned lasciviously. “Seems like you want to go again.” Numeni glanced at a panel on the wall and back at Caleb. “You’ve got a few more minutes left if you want to try and cum again. She slid off him and bent down and slid his cock into her mouth and said, mouth full of dick, “You wanna cum in my mouth?”

Kavlae shrugged. “I dunno, about twenty.”

“WHAT?” I blurted. “Twenty??”

“Yeah, we were a handful, too,” my coworker said as if this was the most normal thing in the world. “Closer to thirty at hatching, I’m told. Dad did a pretty good job. That’s got to be a lot of work to handle all by yourself.”

“And your dad was a single parent??” I asked, my voice spiraling upward even though I tried to be casual.

Kavlae looked surprised. “Sure, isn’t that normal for you guys? Or are two- and three-parent sets more common?”

“Two is standard!” I said, determined to hide my surprise better. “There are occasional exceptions, but two is what you’d expect to see.”

“Huh. That must make parenting much easier. Human parents must get a lot done.”

I shook my head slowly, thinking of the parents I’d known. “Pretty sure it’s still a lot of work. Everybody talks about newborns waking up every couple hours to eat, scream, and poop, then go back to sleep. Lots of diaper changes and not much sleep for the parents.”

Kavlae tilted a frill. “A lot of what changes?”

“Diapers,” I said. When she still looked blank, I went on: “The disposable clothes for catching poop, before babies are old enough to use a toilet? Yes, it’s gross.”

“Ew,” Kavlae said firmly, her expression revolted. “How long do you have to use those?”

“A year or two, I think?”

Kavlae’s eyes bugged out. “It takes YEARS? Never mind, I take back what I said about human parents having it easy!”

“Yeah, it’s a lot of work,” I said. “Sounds like your babies are more self-sufficient than ours, huh?”

Kavlae made a gesture with a hand and frill together. “I mean, they have to be kept from eating everything that’s not food.”

“Yeah, same.”

“And they’re famous for hurting themselves during the egg-free zoomies.”

I blinked. “I’m guessing that’s when they run around immediately after hatching? You probably don’t want to know how long it takes humans to walk.”

She looked at me intently. “How long?”

“About a year.”

“A year??” She threw her blue-skinned hands in the air. “I see why you only have one at a time; that is nuts!”

I pointed out, “Keeping track of a couple dozen little ones running around and biting things all at once sounds pretty nuts too.”

“You’re not wrong!” She picked up a forgotten food pack and held it up like a champagne glass. “Cheers to the child-rearers, who are clearly all insane.”

I chuckled as I raised my sandwich in an answering cheer. “From lack of sleep, if nothing else.”

Kavlae poured some of the grainy whatever into her mouth. It looked like caviar. She said around it, “Glad I won’t have to worry about any of that.”

I picked up my sandwich again. “Not going to have any kids?”

“Oh, no, I have a couple clutches out there. I’m just not an egg-keeper.” She chugged the rest of the bag.

I paused, feeling like I’d missed something. “Egg-keeper?”

“Yeah. The one who keeps the eggs.”

It was my turn to look blank.

Kavlae tried again. “Do you guys not — no, you said two parents is standard. So those two mate, then raise the offspring together?”

“Yeahhhh,” I said. “What do you do?”

Kavlae looked around awkwardly. “I did not expect to be explaining this. Blip and Blop aren’t near, are they?”

The other tables were empty, with the rest of the crew elsewhere on the ship. That included the other two Frillians. I said, “Pretty sure they’re helping Mimi with some heavy engine parts.”

“Great. Okay. How to summarize this.” Kavlae ran a hand over the little frills on the top of her head. “Sex needs somebody to lay the eggs and somebody to fertilize them — well, no, making babies needs them to be fertilized. Anyway, someone has to keep track of the eggs afterward, and raise them. Usually that’s the male, but there’s a lot of overlap.” She gestured like she was sketching out a diagram in midair. “Male and female; egg-keeper and egg-eater.”

“Egg EATER?” I asked.

She sighed, frustrated. “The trade languages never get the genders right. It’s an archaic term that doesn’t translate well.”

“So nobody’s actually eating their own eggs?”

She looked like she wanted to say no, but she just fiddled with the other food pack and said, “Not anymore. Like I said, it’s ancient. Things were different back in the old times, and food was scarce.”

“Okay,” I said, realizing I hadn’t blinked in a while. “I am learning a lot about your people.”

“It’s not that big of a deal!” Kavlae insisted. “Everything’s very civilized now, just with an outdated word. Eggs are laid and fertilized, and at least one person stays to keep an eye on them while the other scoots off to the rest of their life.”

I had several questions I wanted to ask, and was having trouble deciding which to start with. “‘At least one’?”

“Sure, sometimes keepers come in sibling sets.” She waved a hand at the doorway. “You know, like Blip and Blop.”

I may have left my mouth hanging open for a moment while I absorbed that bit of knowledge. “I am definitely learning a lot about your people.”

Kavlae leaned back in her chair. “You really didn’t know that? They go everywhere together, and they’re big and muscley.”

I shook my head. “That would mean something different among humans. Possibly a couple different things, actually. But definitely not that they’re in the market for a threesome.”

“I’m not saying that they are,” Kavlae said, glancing at the door in embarrassment. “Just that if they ever wanted to be parents, they’d be the ones doing all the parenting.”

I remembered something from a few sentences back. “But not you, because you’re an … egg-eater.”

“But not literally,” she confirmed. “Kindly don’t tell them I was talking to you about this. I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.” Her frills flared in a way that looked almost like she was shading her eyes in embarrassment.

I smiled quietly. “I won’t say a word. They’re not your type, huh?”

“Don’t get me wrong; Blip’s kinda hot and Blop has nice coloring, but yeah. Not my type.” She made a visible effort to get over the embarrassment, opening a third packet and squeezing some sort of Space Ketchup into the second. “I like a little more intellect, personally. Forethought, good with words, that sort of thing.”

“What, like Trrili?” I said with a grin, thinking of our largest and scariest exoskeleton-clad crewmate, who worked in language translation and enjoyed planning ahead enough to jump out and startle the rest of us.

I’d meant it as a joke. “Well,” Kavlae said, stirring the food and staring into the distance. “I’ll just say it’s a pity she’s got so many limbs. I know some Frillians have been known to date outside the species, but I really don’t think we’d be compatible.” Then she spooned the food into her mouth, lost in thought.

My eyebrows seemed to have taken up new residence at my hairline. “I won’t tell her we talked about this either.”

“Yeah, best not.”

I ate more of my sandwich, trying to think of another direction to steer the conversation. “Why’d you ask about birthdays, anyway?”

“Wio was saying they’re just a human thing, but I’m pretty sure I’ve heard some Heatseekers talking about them.” Kavlae waved her spoon vaguely. “Their families are small enough that they could make that work.”

I thought about what I knew of the lizardy folk, who also laid eggs. But not as many at once. I was pretty sure. “We could ask Paint.”

Kavlae opened a tub of what looked like jello. “Paint loves parties. I’m pretty sure she’d immediately want to start celebrating a hatching day, if she doesn’t already.”

“She probably would.” I considered. “She’s never mentioned her hatching day.”

Kavlae pointed at me with the spoon. “You’ve never said when your special day is either,” she said, chewing on what was apparently crunchy jello.

“It’s honestly hard to keep track out in space,” I said, though it felt like a weak excuse. I had a digital calendar for Earth dates, and I made sure to send messages home when I could.

“Do you not want to have a party where everyone gives you presents?” Kavlae asked. “You did say it was mostly for kids.”

I thought about it. “I’d feel a little guilty if everyone onboard gave me things just for existing, especially if they didn’t have their own birthdays.”

“You could start a trend. I wonder if Trrili even knows when she hatched.” Kavlae leaned toward the hallway. “Hey, Paint!”

A scaley orange face popped through the door. “Paint?”

Kavlae pointed at me. “Did you know it’s her hatching day tomorrow?”

Paint’s face lit up in delight. “It is?”

I said, “It’s really not…” but they were off without me.

“We should have a party! Oh, why didn’t you say?”

“I was telling her she should have mentioned it earlier. We should find out when everyone’s hatching day is.”

Paint clapped her hands together. “We should! Do you think they all know?”

“If not,” Kavlae said graciously, “You should pick days for them.”

“Yes! I love this idea. Robin, what do you usually do on hatching days?”

With both of them waiting for an answer, I said, “Eat cake.”

Paint said, “Perfect! I wonder if Eggskin has any recipes for a cake that everyone onboard can eat. I’ll go ask!” She scampered for the door.

Kavlae hurriedly scooped out the last bite of jello and tossed the tub onto her tray. “Ask if there are any meat-flavored ones! Those fruits you like are going to make at least three of us gag.” She got up and dumped the tray into a trash can, then chased after Paint, pausing only to throw me a grin and a “Happy birthday!”

I shook my head. With as much dignity as I could muster, I finished my regular Earth sandwich and apple slices, then headed out to the wild party planning that was already underway.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

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“No,” Paint’s muffled voice said. “Mediocre at best. They need to refresh the seaside page, and their choice of fruits is boring. But it’s a distraction. Are we almost there?”

A look out the nearest window — which I just now realized was at my head height, above theirs — showed a distant view of the cityscape with the sun sinking behind us. A lovely scene, though not what I’d call close. I tried to sound upbeat as I said, “We’ve still got a little while to go, but it shouldn’t be too long now.”

Captain Sunlight kept her eyes closed while she said calmly, “Be glad they installed the scent books. When I visited as a child, the only distraction was my siblings. And none of them smelled particularly good.”

Paint snorted in laughter, face still in the book. “I bet.” She paused, then added, “Did your aunt and uncle export things back then too?”

The captain shook her head. “No, this is a relatively new business. That’s why I’m so glad to help them out; they’re just starting to get really successful, and the way the local mail system is backed up because of the holidays could put a dent in customer satisfaction. But a direct shot on our ship will be nice and quick. Beneficial for them, and multiple deliveries with one pickup for us; good business all around. This arrangement suits everyone.”

Paint said, “Except for this part of the trip.”

“Yes, except for this part of the trip.”

I smiled quietly. Paint could have stayed back on the ship with everybody else, but she’d wanted to meet Captain Sunlight’s extended family. The two of them had been friends since long before the captain got promoted. Plus the description of the family home had included something cryptic about good smells, and I suspect that was a bonus as well.

I was coming along because the captain had wanted three people to wrangle the cart full of packages. I was a good middle ground between strong enough to be helpful, and narrow enough to fit through Heatseeker doorways without catching a bug leg or overly muscley arm on a doorframe. (Height was another matter, of course, but I had ducked my way through many a low doorway in my time, and I was confident in my ability not to smack my forehead on anything.)

I leaned toward the porthole and looked out the distant ground, watching the sunset catch on tiny windows far below. As the shuttle sped toward its destination, that light moved, flashing from one part of town to another, lighting up buildings and ground transportation as it went. It was a striking view. Another minute later, and we might have missed it.

I said, “It’s a pity you don’t like looking out the windows; it’s really pretty down there.”

Paint didn’t move. “No thanks.”

Captain Sunlight smiled. “Care to describe it for us?”

I studied the play of lights. “The sunset is reflecting off windows and windshields, making the city sparkle as we pass. Some of the roads full of traffic look like glittering necklaces winding through town, and the houses are like a handful of jewelry scattered across the hills.”

“That does sound pretty,” the captain said.

Paint said, “Ah, but what is it in smells?”

“Well,” I said. “It would be a lot of little sharp spikes of scent, together in a rolling wave like a breeze passing through a field full of really memorable flowers.”

Paint considered. “Yeah, okay, I like that.”

“And the clouds over there are about level with us, lit up all pink and peachy like the candy algae Blip and Blop brought back that one time.”

“Ooh, that was delicious. Okay, it sounds very nice out there. But it’s still too far to the ground.”

“Not as far as it was,” I said as the landing pad grew beneath us. A faint change in engine pitch suggested reverse thrusters, or a change in the degree of gravity manipulation, or whatever kind of tech the shuttle was using. I don’t know; it’s not my specialty.

Captain Sunlight must have heard it, because she opened her eyes. “Almost there.”

Paint sighed in relief, eyes still closed. “Oh good.”

The captain patted her on the shoulder. “The drop box would have been worse.”

Paint turned her head slightly and opened one eye. “How?”

“Bigger windows.”

“Yeah, that’s worse.”

I craned my neck back for a glimpse at the space elevator that reached up to the docks, a technological spear stabbing into the sky like the kind of thing that religions are based on. I asked, “Isn’t it supposed to be faster than these shuttles?”

Captain Sunlight told me, “Yes, but it leads to the wrong part of town. My family lives closer to the shuttle station.”

“Right, that makes sense.”

Paint stuck her face back in the book. “Tell me when we’re there.”

The artificial gravity made a comical bounce, like the shuttle had hiccuped, and the view outside the window showed a stable landing pad. The sun had just set.

Captain Sunlight said, “We’re here,” and unfastened her seatbelt.

Paint and I hurried to follow as the other passengers shuffled towards the door. Once outside, my impression of the place was that it felt like a comfortable summer night: warm breeze, enough light in the sky from the fading sun to rival the electricity of the city, and heat still radiated up from the sun-warmed pavement. It smelled like asphalt, jet fuel, and several competing perfumes.

Captain Sunlight led the way through the crowd, which was mostly other Heatseekers with a few Frillians. “Smells just like I remember it,” she said. “This way.”

She found the ground transportation that would go straight to her family’s street: a hoverbus that was a similar riding experience to the shuttle, except for its length. This thing was snake-long in three segments, each with a nifty little rotating section where it hinged to turn corners. I chose a seat in one of those parts, enjoying the way the floor moved. Paint shook her head and sat in what she probably considered a more sensible location, with the captain beside her.

Normally we’d stay together when out on business, but it wasn’t like they’d lose track of me. Everyone else on this bus was elbow-height and covered in scales.

When we reached our stop and got out, there was a huddle of Frillians who averaged out at human size, which felt both normal and strange for a moment. Then Captain Sunlight led the way past, down a sidewalk made of rubberized brown pavement that smelled vaguely like strawberries, and the architecture brought things back into feeling exotic. Every building was a single story tall, and I could see over most of the rooftops. It was all gentle curves and bright colors, though the gathering darkness under the reddish streetlights made it hard to say exactly which colors.

Captain Sunlight led us to one house out of many, this one with a domed roof, and as we got close I realized that the pattern I had taken for the leaves of spreading vines was actually a collage of clawed handprints. Tiny ones at the bottom, getting bigger as they went up. While the captain pressed a button somewhere that made a crescendo of chimes sound inside, I looked around to see that yes, all the houses on this street were covered in handprints.

I wondered how many cousins Captain Sunlight had, and how often they got to put new handprints on the wall. Maybe it was a birthday tradition. I’d have to ask when I got a chance.

Then the door swung open, and several voices were talking over each other, welcoming us inside. I went last, ducking low. Once the door was shut behind me, I saved everyone some awkwardness and just sat down on my heels. Then I took in the sights. Also the smells. While the home was visually charming, all warm lights and painted walls with furniture and people everywhere, the smell was a burst of potpourri and black pepper. I conquered the urge to sneeze, and was proud of myself for that.

Captain Sunlight was finishing the rounds of greeting each family member with the Heatseeker version of a hug: rubbing cheeks like they were cats scent-marking each other. I heard someone comment to her, “You smell like space,” and wondered what smell that was. Paint, meanwhile, was going with the equivalent of a bow: chin lifts so everyone was baring their necks at each other. It was interesting to watch for the split second before the closest Heatseeker greeted me.

“Hello and welcome!” he said, sounding both elderly and pleased. His scales were a faded beige, and a couple were even missing. He tipped his chin towards the ceiling. “Here, let me get you a cushion.” He was gone before I could do more than raise my own head and thank him.

Another elder took his place, her own scales a yellow-green and her voice a little stronger. She greeted me and began introducing everyone. I immediately lost track, but pretended to keep up. Greetings came from all sides.

A large tasseled pillow was thrust between people, then the old man appeared and set it down with ceremony in front of me. I made a point of thanking him graciously as I scooted forward to sit on it cross-legged. I didn’t kick anyone with my long human legs, but it was a near thing.

Captain Sunlight appeared beside me, towing Paint, and stood there to talk with someone whose yellow scales were speckled with black, like an artist had scattered watermelon seeds over her. (For all I knew, someone had. Scale painting was uncommon, but not unheard of.)

The rest of the cheerful crowd settled down to observe this conversation. My keen sense of deduction told me that this was probably the aunt who had invited us here in the first place. They were talking business: numbers and locations and all very no-nonsense. They didn’t need any input from me.

Paint was having a quiet and enthusiastic side conversation with someone about the scented heat bracelets they were wearing. Nobody was addressing me, so I admired the decorations. This main entry room had the higher domed ceiling, colored in a lovely mural of the sun and clouds. Lots of hooks held decorative paper bird-things that looked handmade. I was wondering how often they had to dust those to keep them clean when the business conversation wrapped up.

“Agreed!” said Captain Sunlight, in the carrying tone of someone finalizing an agreement in front of an eager crowd. All the family members made a single cheer in unison, then dissolved into conversation again.

This time the speckled aunt quieted them. “Everyone go pick seats at the dining circle. Be sure to leave space for our guests. We’ll be along in just a moment.”

Oh. Apparently we were staying for dinner. I supposed that made sense. I kept my elbows in as the chattering crowd filed through a door somewhere, leaving the three of us alone with the aunt and uncle. He turned out to be an unassuming golden-brown fellow who blended in with the walls surprisingly well.

Captain Sunlight asked her aunt quietly, “Did you have something else to discuss?”

“Just a minor favor to ask,” the aunt said with a glance at me. (Uh oh.) Then she pointed up at the paper decorations. “Our hoverstool has broken, and we haven’t been able to take down the flights from last holiday. Perhaps someone with a bit of height could unhook them for us?”

I snorted in amusement at the look at Captain Sunlight’s face. She said, “That’s why you wanted me to bring a tall crewmate? So you didn’t have to go to the store for a new hoverstool during the rush?”

The aunt spread her hands innocently. “Always efficient,” she said with the tone of someone reciting a mantra.

Captain Sunlight sighed. “It is efficient, I’ll give you that.” She turned to me. “Would you mind? You can set them on that table there.”

“Sure thing,” I said, getting to my feet. The center of the dome was just about high enough for me to stand up straight. With the sun mural up there and the warm lights aimed up at it, I felt almost like I was outside in the daytime as I carefully unhooked the paper birds. Maybe a convincing stagecraft version of day. Working carefully, I gathered all of them onto the table without damaging any or bumping into anyone in the process. It helped that the four Heatseekers stood to the side, talking about the items ready for export.

“All done,” I said, folding back down onto the cushion. I was pretty sure we’d be moving into the next room in just a moment, but I felt awkward looming over everyone.

And the aunt was giving gifts.

“Call it a free sample,” she said, handing Captain Sunshine a collection of angular glass beads on strings. Necklaces? Yes, necklaces. “These ones are pressure-activated, with a shutoff at the clasp. Refillable. A popular model, especially with our newest offworld dealer’s clients.”

The captain thanked her, then handed a necklace to Paint and one to me. I didn’t need Paint’s delighted exclamation to figure out that these were a scent thing. Fortunately, they held a pleasant sort of perfume as far as my preferences went — kind of cinnamony — and the shutoff was easy to lock in place. It wouldn’t do to gas myself during polite conversation.

And also, it was pretty. I put the necklace on while Paint gushed about the beautiful range of scents, and I admired the string of glittering cubes set against my dark shirt.

Paint looked up at me. “Oh! Does this look like what you saw out the window?”

I smiled. “It does! And it even comes with scents so you can appreciate it too.”

Paint ran a claw along the string, tapping each bead and inhaling deeply. “Beautiful,” she announced.

Captain Sunlight told her aunt, “You do good work.”

The aunt beamed. “Of course we do! Now come sample the food; your cousins have been fighting over who got to plan the meal, so we let everybody make their own offering. It ought to be a delicious mess.”

The uncle spoke up, leading the way. “And you haven’t seen our new dining circle yet.”

“That’s right, they haven’t! Right this way. Watch your head on the doorway.”

That last part was directed at me. I did my best to walk bent over with dignity, following the others into the next room where a festive conversation was underway. The dining circle turned out to be a giant round table, with an outer ring set lower than the rest, holding everyone’s plates. The plates were empty so far, while the promised variety of dishes sat along the edge of the top circle, waiting to be scooped, forked, tonged, and grabbed from. There was a centerpiece made of crystal flowers.

Once we honored guests were shown to our seats (another cushion for me), the pale elder from before set the table slowly spinning. Another cheer went up, and the grabbing began.

Captain Sunlight sat beside me, and I was grateful for her brief descriptions of what each passing dish was made of. I picked out a selection from the many options while Paint exclaimed over how good they all smelled, and I had to agree.

Also, the crystal centerpiece sparkled under the lights as the table turned, and it was spectacularly beautiful. Even with no scent at all.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

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I nodded, still flapping. “Yes and yes.”

“But it cools you down, right?”

“Only if there’s a breeze,” I told her. “Otherwise it’s just an added layer of discomfort.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re doing,” Paint said, pointing a claw. “I wondered.”

Mur pointed a tentacle in a different direction. “You’ll be back in ship temperatures soon enough. That has to be the customer.”

I followed where he was pointing to see a Strongarm slightly smaller than he was, colored in a lighter shade of blue that showed the dust that hadn’t been fastidiously wiped off. The most notable difference, though, was that while Mur would have been carrying the brown package, this person was dragging it. It didn’t even look that heavy.

I glanced at Mur. Even from above, I could see his scowl. He didn’t say anything, though. It wouldn’t do to badmouth a customer, even such a poor representative of the species as this.

Paint whispered, “I thought there were supposed to be more packages than one?”

Mur said, “We’ll ask.”

I wiped my face and hoped we wouldn’t have to wait for somebody else to bring the rest. If we did, I was going to volunteer to take the first box back to the ship and stay there.

When the other Strongarm got close enough, Mur moved forward with an official greeting and a thankfully temperature-resistant datapad. He handled the conversation. That was great, since I didn’t have to leave the shade of that one glorious leaf. Paint stepped up to accept the box while Mur was handling data entry and discussing the missing packages.

Yes, there were supposed to be more. No, the customer didn’t have them ready after all. Was there any chance of a discount for delivery, since we wouldn’t be dealing with as many? Nope. We were still making the same trip. Mur was firm on that.

Thankfully for all our sakes, the customer didn’t feel like arguing about it. Soon enough, those dusty blue tentacles were waving goodbye and plopping along back down the walkway. Mur turned off the datapad. Paint brushed dirt off the box.

I rubbed away sweat dripping down my neck, and pointed toward the ship. “Shall we?”

They both fell in behind me, and I led the way, grateful for any kind of breeze. It was a pity they weren’t as long-legged as I was, but even this faint bit of air was an improvement.

Mur grumbled something that sounded like “Disgrace to the species.”

I didn’t comment, busy breathing.

Paint turned the box over with quiet taps of her claws. “Look, the tape isn’t even sealed down all the way! They’re lucky we aren’t going to toss this somewhere it’ll get caught and pulled loose.”

“Typical,” said Mur.

I looked back at it. The thing was a surprisingly Earthlike cardboard-type box, and the packing tape was the paper stuff. I asked, “Is that the kind that’s activated by water?”

Paint tried to press it down and failed. “I think so. It’s not sticky.”

I squinted at the distance still to walk, then stopped and held out my hands. “Gimme. I’ll fix it.”

Paint lifted it towards me. “How? I wouldn’t recommend licking—”

I grabbed the box, wiped my sweaty forearm on the tape, then smoothed it down with a damp palm. Perfect. “Done,” I said, handing it back. “If you don’t mind, I need a drink of water. See you back onboard.” I took long-legged strides toward the ship.

Behind me, Mur was laughing.

I heard Paint mutter, “Do you think that’s sanitary?”

Mur said, “I don’t think this customer would care in the slightest. And that’s a risk they run in being that late, then giving a package to a species that gets damp in the heat.”

~~~

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Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

Wio curled a tentacle. “Search me. Apparently she was surprised neither of us want that smell soaking into the air filters.”

Kavlae looked apologetic. “Even with a sealed package, eating it only in her quarters, we’d smell it all the way down the hall. I’m familiar with that Heatseeker delicacy; it’s almost a biohazard.”

I added, “Which probably hurt her feelings.”

Kavlae winced. “Probably.”

“I’ll tell her you’re sorry but haven’t changed your minds, shall I?” I suggested. “I was about to go visit the food stalls too.”

“Please,” Kavlae said with a nod and flap of her head frills.

Wio said, “Don’t let her convince you the door to her quarters would contain the smell. Those doors are designed to NOT be airtight, for safety reasons.”

“Righto,” I agreed. They walked past and I headed for the door to the outside. I was already breathing shallowly, braced for stench.

But the air outside was clean — well, spaceport-level clean, with tinges of exhaust and sun-warmed pavement. Other ships sat in their designated landing spots.

Paint stood a few steps away from the door, holding a small plastic tub and looking sulky. She lashed her scaly tail and glared.

“Hey,” I said, though she was already talking over me.

“They said it smelled bad!” Paint exclaimed, in the aggrieved tones of someone whose favorite thing had been deeply slandered. “This is the best smell of all foods ever! I followed it across town!” She waved the tub around, which was thankfully still sealed.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Geology cake,” Paint told me. “I used to ask for it at every celebration back home. It’s called that because of the layers.” She held the tub with one hand, using the other to gesture in horizontal slices. “Made with perfectly ripe bitterfruit, and fermented worm cream. Plus a few other flavors that I forget. I was never the one to make it back home. I’d love to learn how! Though SOME people would apparently have a problem with that.” She huffed and turned a lizardy glare toward the closed door to the ship.

“They say sorry for the offense,” I told her. “And you know, they probably like some foods that you think are gross too.”

“But it’s my favorite!” Paint said plaintively. She held the tub close like someone might try to take it away from her. “I’d eat it every day if I could. My parents never let us have enough; they said it was unhealthy to have too much.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve been there for sure,” I said. “It feels like all the things that taste the best are the ones that are bad to eat too much of. Which makes sense, I guess, since probably every civilized species figures out what flavors they like, then maximizes them.”

Paint nodded. “You told me about that aisle of salty snack food in your home store.”

“Right! Salt tastes good because we need a certain amount to be healthy, and in nature it can be hard to find.” I waved my own hands, warming to the subject. “But we’re not in nature anymore, and we’ve made tons of delicious things with more salt in a meal than we need in two days. Such a problem to have.”

“It’s unfair,” Paint agreed. She looked sadly down at the tub. “This really is my favorite, though. That’s important. Do you have a favorite food? Probably one of those toxic ones, right?”

I laughed. “Chocolate is pretty darn tasty, I won’t lie. I don’t really have one single favorite food, since there are so many good ones. I usually just say pizza.”

Paint nodded as if that was what she expected. “You told me about that. Every ingredient takes multiple stages of processing, and two of the most common ones will give most sentient species intestinal troubles.”

“Yeah, unfortunately,” I admitted. “I didn’t used to think bread stuff was strange at all until I got to space, to say nothing of cheese.”

Paint made a face and shook her head. “The less said about cheese, the better.”

“Did I tell you that some humans can’t digest it properly either?”

“Yes! Which makes it all the more baffling that it’s so popular in human spaces!”

I shrugged. “There are pills that you can take to help with lactose intolerance. It tastes good enough to be worth it. Especially with all the other ingredients.”

“Toxic ones. With blood-red sauce that causes organ failure.”

“Not for everybody!” I objected. “Some people can eat tomatoes. Just not everybody.”

“I am not about to try,” Paint said. She looked down at the tub again. “I am going to eat this, though, no matter what those two brainless noses say.”

I didn’t comment on the Heatseeker phrasing. I was curious. “Before I go get my own food, can I smell it? Will it put me off eating all together?”

Paint was delighted by this, and assured me that of course not, it was a lovely smell, the best around, etc etc. I just nodded as she opened the tub.

She held it out. “There! Isn’t that amazing?”

I only got a glimpse of beige frosting before getting nose-punched by an odor that was both sharp and rotten. I tried to keep a neutral expression as I stepped back, exhaling forcefully and hoping the stench wouldn’t follow me.

“Hm. Not for me, I think.”

“But it’s so good!” Paint repeated. “Where’s Captain Sunlight? She’ll back me up. Clearly all of you just have inferior noses.”

“Possible,” I allowed, breathing through my mouth. Ugh, I could taste it too.

“Wait, there’s Eggskin! They’ll like it!” Paint waved at the approaching cook/medic, who was also a small lizardperson with apparently horrendous taste in cake.

I tried to sound normal when I joked, “They’ll probably just caution you not to eat it all in one sitting.”

“They’d better not!”

When Eggskin got a little closer, I could see that they were carrying a bag that might have come from a food stall.

When they got a little closer still, the wind changed and I honestly almost threw up. “What is that?” I demanded, covering my nose.

Eggskin approached and sighed. “I probably should have just eaten this back there, shouldn’t I? The chairs were all full.”

I suggested, “Did you try waving that around and waiting? I suspect they would have cleared out pretty quickly.”

Paint just cocked her head curiously. “What is it? It smells familiar.”

Eggskin managed to look guilty. “Three-month pneumonia. It’s not the healthiest choice, I admit—”

Paint pointed. “That’s why it’s so familiar! It was my cousin’s favorite!”

“Three-month what?” I asked, certain I’d heard wrong.

“Pneumonia,” confirmed our ship’s medic. “Whoever invented it got creative with the naming. I would have preferred something less ominous.”

Paint hurried to explain it, waving the lid of her own still-open food around. “It’s knife-wing lungs! Filled with fermented greedbeast-fat sauce!”

Eggskin nodded. “And slug garnish.”

“Wow,” I managed. “That sounds special.”

“It is! A rare treat.” Eggskin turned to Paint. “Would you like some?”

“Oh, no thank you; I have my own food,” Paint said politely, finally putting the lid back on. “Also I can’t stand knife-wing. Sorry.”

I made a rather gurgling laugh and pointed toward the edge of the spaceport. “I think I see some empty tables over there. Maybe you two would like to eat and reminisce about parties and strong-smelling food?”

Paint perked up and followed my finger. “Oh! Yay!”

Eggskin gave me a knowing look. “You’re going to run off in the opposite direction, aren’t you?”

I was already walking. “I think I spy something promising way the heck over there.”

Paint headed for the tables. “Enjoy your toxins!”

“You as well!” I said. “I hope your biohazard is delicious.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

“That again?” he grumbled, glaring up at the rocky overhang as if he could see through to whatever was hiding in the low bushes on top. “Something’s been rattling about up there for an hour now, wrecking the ambiance.” He sniffed and looked up at me. “You’re a proper tree-height. Suppose you can get a look and shoo whatever it is away?”

“Sure,” I said, taking a step back to inspect the bushes. The ledge was higher up than I could reach, but one of those local trees with the spiral trunk grew next to it, making for plenty of handholds. “Before I go sticking my face up there, do you have any dangerous animals around here that you might expect to be waiting to jump out at me? Anything fond of leaping claws-first, or projectile attacks?”

“Nah, nothing small enough to be up there,” the guy said with confidence. “The only troublemakers we have are big ones, and there are defensive measures keeping them away from town.”

Mur spoke up. “That doesn’t rule out offworld fauna. The spaceport’s right there.” He pointed a tentacle back the way we had come. “Could be somebody’s pet or prize face-eater. Good thing we’ve got an animal expert right here, though!” He patted my ankle with a tentacle.

I looked down at him. “You know it would be simpler for me to just lift you up so you can stick your face in the danger zone.”

“No no, I wouldn’t want to rob you of your glory.”

“Of course not.” I peered back up at the foliage, which was holding still now.

The elder was concerned. “I didn’t think about offworld creatures. Now that I think about it, there was a cart full of stuff parked there awhile ago, and something could have jumped off it. Horrible thought. Glad you’re here! Do you need any tools?”

I sighed. “Let me just take a peek at what’s there. I don’t suppose you have a stick or something for moving the plants aside?”

“Oh, always,” said the old beaver, and grabbed a bouquet of walking sticks from under the counter. They were all intricately carved, bare wood. “Got to keep chewing when there’s nothing to do.”

“Very nice,” I said, picking up the longest one, which was still pretty short. “Thank you. I’ll try not to get it ruined by some offworld pest.” The shapes of alien vines spiraling around it were truly lovely.

“No worries; I can always make more.” He waved me on.

Hoping I wasn’t about to do something monumentally unwise, I stepped over to the side of the booth and got a grip on the spiral tree trunk. It was the perfect natural ladder, narrow enough that I could carry the stick and rough enough that my shoes didn’t slip. Moments later, I was raising my head up past the level of the roof, though at a good distance. I reached out with the stick to part the leaves. Mur and the elder beaver watched from below.

Nothing, nothing, just leaves … blue fur. A smaller beaver face glaring at me, managing to look scared and angry at the same time. I blinked.

The elder called, “See anything dangerous?”

I answered honestly. “No, no offworld pests here. I think you’re okay. Gimme just a minute. It this ledge strong enough for me to climb on?”

He said it was, sounding relieved. Mur launched into a story of the most troublesome animals we’d had to deliver as cargo, and the two of them promptly left me to it. Good.

Judging by the size and the sulky expression, I figured the person on the roof was roughly teenage, and regretting their choices. I climbed up another couple steps, then took a seat casually on the edge. Setting the stick down, I admired the view and kept the youngster in my peripheral vision. “Hi there. You okay?”

I didn’t get an answer, which didn’t surprise me. The furry blue alien was clutching the stem of a bush with both hands, and shivering ever so slightly. That made twigs scrape on the rock. The scowl dared me to mention it.

Instead, I asked, “So what brings you up here?”

She said, “Schoolwork,” and left it at that.

“Ooh, what kind?” I asked. “Is it to find out how far you can see from up high? This really is a great view.” I waved a hand, encompassing the trees, tributaries, distant spaceport and scattered buildings. “You can see what ships have landed, and who’s crossing what bridge, and even where all the fruits are on the top of that tree.” I pointed out what looked like an apple tree but probably wasn’t. Beaver-people were using longer sticks to knock down the fruit from ground level.

The teenager perked up a little at that, but didn’t let go of the plants. She also didn’t answer.

I prompted, “Did you finish what you came up here to do?”

“No,” she admitted. “The giant web-spinners are gone.”

I looked around, more concerned by that statement than I wanted to let on. “Are they? Hmm. Did you want to find them?”

She hunched her shoulders and said in a rush, “We have to find an efficient way to suspend something lightweight, and I thought the webs would be perfect, but they’re not here anymore, and now the cart’s gone so I can’t get down. And this is very high up.”

“Ah,” I said. “Well, I can help with that if you like. Actually,” I added as something occurred to me, “I might be able to help with both problems. Did you just need one strand of web, or the whole thing?”

She looked at me suspiciously. “Just a couple strands would work. One to use and one for backup. Why?”

“What about really long fur?” I asked, untying my braid. This wasn’t the first time I’d found an unorthodox use for hair, and knowing my life, it probably wouldn’t be the last.

“How strong is it?” she asked. I noticed that her grip on the bush was loosening, and she wasn’t as tense.

“Strong enough to hold up a pencil, easy,” I told her as I finger-combed my hair in search of loose strands. “Probably a few pencils. I haven’t tested it. But human hair’s pretty tough as these things go.”

“Human?” She said the word like it was unfamiliar.

“Oh yeah, that’s me. Hi, I’m a human.” I waved one hand in an awkward greeting.

“Right. I knew that,” she said, sounding utterly convincing, and not at all like she was trying to save face.

I shrugged, hands back in my hair. “There’s a lot of species to keep track of. For example, I don’t think I’ve actually caught the official name for yours. Which is embarrassing, since I’ve been here twice.”

“The interplanetary name is Rivershapers,” she said. “Which is boring, but they didn’t ask me. I guess not all the aliens making the decision could pronounce ‘hhuinhkt.’” The word in her native tongue was part hoot, part squeak, and yeah a little tricky.

I nodded. “Guess I’m lucky. My species got to keep our own name for ourselves, probably because no one could agree on a descriptive one. And actually, I’m doubly lucky because it’s a word from my own language. We have lots of them.” I separated three loose strands of hair. “Speaking of lots, here you go! One to use and two backups for weight testing.”

She took them between her webbed fingers and gave them a gentle tug. “Those are pretty strong,” she admitted.

“Yup!” Then I remembered we were on top of a roof. “Say, do you want me to hold onto them until we get down?”

She reflexively grabbed the bush again with one hand, leaving the one clutching the hairs out where they wouldn’t snag on leaves. “Yes, please.”

I took them back, wrapped them around a few fingers, then tucked the loose coil into a pocket. “Right, so there’s a couple ways we can do this,” I said as if I was a co-conspirator planning a heist. “I can carry you down. You can ride on my back. Or!” I held up a finger. “I can show you where to put your feet so you can do it on your own.”

I didn’t expect her to take me up on that last one, given the blatant fear of heights, but she surprised me.

“Show me,” she demanded. “I want to come back when all the low fruits are gone from that tree. Bet I can get a couple that everyone else missed.”

“Great plan. Scoot on over here, and grab this branch.” I tied my hair back into a quick ponytail, then stepped back onto the spiral trunk, taking the nearly-forgotten stick with me. “The most important thing about climbing is to focus on where your hands and feet are, and not on how high up you are. Put both hands here, then one foot over here…”

With detailed coaching, we made it to the ground one inch at a time. I was sure to keep a hand free in case she slipped, which meant I did a lot of my own climbing with one elbow looped over a branch so I could keep hold of the stick, but I’d had worse climbs. And nobody fell.

My feet reached the ground first, and Mur was waiting there with an expression that said he was very curious, but would wait for an explanation. I handed him the stick and finished guiding the young Rivershaper’s descent. The elder leaned on the counter and watched.

“Perfect, now keep hold of that and bend your knees until you can put a foot down here; see that? Yeah, almost got it. Great. Now you can move this hand over here, then I’ll bet you can reach the ground … Got it! Good job!”

Her webbed feet slapped the dirt and she stood tall (relatively speaking), breathing hard but looking triumphant.

I remembered to give her the hairs. “Here you go,” I said, passing over the delicate coil. “Best of luck with the project!”

She nodded curtly, ignoring the others, and scampered off.

“So!” Mur said. “Not an alien pest at all, then.”

The elder asked, “What in the floodplains was she doing up there?”

“Schoolwork,” I said simply. “She might be less afraid of high places now — or more likely to ignore that fear, which is almost the same thing. Anyways, if she gets stuck up there again, remind her the human said to watch her hands and not look down.”

He shook his head. “Kids. I’ll tell my wife to make sure the medics are ready for any fall damage.” Then he heaved a bundle of carved sticks onto the counter, all tied together top and bottom with festive bows. “Here you go, young feller! Enjoy.”

“My thanks,” said Mur smoothly, then waved a tentacle up at me. “My tall assistant here will carry them.”

“Tall assistant, am I?” I asked in amusement, though I did pick up the bundle. I moved to give back the stick I’d been holding, but the elder waved it away.

“Thanks for clearing out my foot space!” he said, settling comfortably into his chair and bringing out a fresh uncarved stick. “If those turn out to be wildly popular among the fancy spacefaring folk, you know where to find more. I might even charge you a price.” He chuckled, then began gnawing industriously.

Mur strode happily toward the ship.

I followed. “He gave you these?” I asked quietly. “They’re amazing.”

“Yup!” Mur agreed. “And they’re easy to make with teeth like that, and everybody here has something of the sort lying around, and why would he dream of selling them?”

I looked at the one in my other hand, with the vine carvings. “I’m surprised this isn’t already a thriving business.”

“Maybe it is, and nobody’s told him yet. But these are just the right size for Heatseekers to use as canes. Maybe we can keep a couple in case the captain or somebody sprains an ankle, then sell the rest. I tell you, this has been a surprisingly productive visit!”

I glanced at the fruit trees as we passed. There were still plenty of fruits in the top branches. “It sure has,” I agreed.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.