Alien Tongues (40 page)

Al laughed.  "Who told you that rubbish?"

"Gentle Cros," said the other youth, "Please don't disrespect us.  This is core doctrine now at the Crosin League meetings we attend."  He paused.  "You're from the Light or the Cloud, right?  Mainly liberal intellectual stuff, I'm thinking, like Senator Brandt?  Here in the Dry Zone that's sort of minority thinking.  If I mentioned Human Rights at a League meeting, I'd get shouted down."

"If not worse," his friend added.  They both gave short, knowing laughs.

"But don't they appreciate mals' contribution to our society?" I asked.  "Without their gene reservoir, your adult life would be halved."

"Yes, and we owe a similar debt to the monkeys in our labs who test our drugs," came the response.  "But we're always going to need monkeys.  They're close to transmitting mal genes directly through the mother now.  They think it might even happen with our generation.  Then we can close the Banks and mals can be assigned, along with our other prehistoric ancestors, to the history books."

"Not that Mik and I would personally advocate putting down any existing mal," his companion added.  "We're not like those crosins from the countryside who want to have them all put to sleep as soon as possible.  They like to think that mals aren't really human, but that's just ignorance of biology."

Though fearful of these comments, I believe I kept an outward appearance of calm.  I nodded and looked past the youths to Ben, busily sketching.  My fear suddenly turned to anger, which I found more difficult to conceal.  I sensed Al noticed it, and he tried to steer the conversation.

"I'm sure you're also aware that there are many crosin in the Light and Cloud who actually favor greater longevity and more rights for mals," he told the youths.  "If you listened to their arguments, you might conclude that your fears are an overreaction."

"We've listened," one of them said, "but how do you measure these chances?  Suppose I said there's a one percent chance of mals killing us all.  Is getting rid of mals then an "overreaction"?  I don't think you can actually argue that one out.  In the end, you go with your gut."

"The average crosin here will tell you that your guys are pressured," the other added.  "They want to be seen to be appeasing fem sentiment.  Some because they're looking for wives.  Others because they're afraid of their wives."

I tried to keep my voice normal.  "Why afraid?"

He looked down at me, then up at Al and Jo.  "Ma'am, you're big enough to put these two croses in the hospital, if you wanted to.  A blow to their stomachs would potentially rupture them.  And I can see you're angry now.  Frankly, you're a bit scary yourself, and with your pet mal you're like a small army.  You know how many fems are in prison for violence?"

In all my life I had never seen myself as a physical threat to anyone.  The fact that I was bigger and stronger than Al and Jo was not something I had any control over.  And my view of the quantity of fems in prison was one of social injustice against our gender.  So what right did this crosin have to see me as a physical threat?  I felt more angry, and turned to Al and Jo.  They looked at me blankly.

"Thank you for your honest opinions," Jo was telling the youths.  "We'll head inside now, and leave you to the pool."

Maybe this point, after this confrontation and also my acceptance of Jo's proposal, with its
ménage a trois
caveats, is the appropriate place in the story to describe how I lost my virginity.  The story is probably a very common one in my society, though it's not easy to be sure because most fems don't tell and you can never trust the ones who do.  I have a strong sense that it is quite different from the Earthling experience, and I believe that difference is instructive about our social structure, which in turn determined your fate.

The first thing to appreciate is that human sex in my world is
never
about making children.  To most croses and fems, the idea of deliberately leaving to chance the most important work of your life would be laughable.  It would make more sense to choose your career by drawing a card from a deck.  Married couples are judged by the quality of their offspring.  It's the single purpose of marriage – we have no such thing as a childless, married couple.  If you want companionship, it can be supplied by your spouse or someone else.  You might say, making a child is a serious business, and you choose that business partner accordingly.

I'm going to tell you a lot more later about the making of children and why mals are so important for it, so now I will confine myself to the act of sex itself.  What makes human sex so different from all other animals?  The fact that it provides the fem with the most incredible experience of her life.  Again, in your society, the quality of that experience may well be at least partly left to chance.  In our society, like quality children, it is almost guaranteed.  If there is one thing that is central to the education of a cros, it is how to satisfy a fem sexually.  It's a cros's first duty to his wife or wives. For those of us who don't want to commit to marriage before the experience, a gentle cros is not supposed to refuse us.  He can try putting us off a bit but, if we're insistent, then turning down a fem is the height of rudeness.

For all I know, there may be some croses who really enjoying sex with fems but, no matter how attractive you are, you are never going to get an offer from him – save that for your fantasy dreams.  You, Girl, are the one who's going to put yourself on the line and ask him, perhaps with other people within earshot.  You are going to risk hearing the reluctance in his voice, the excuse of a pressing meeting, the fact that he got no sleep the previous night, etc.  That's why many fems are still virgins when they get married.  But I hated the idea of being so wussy.  If I wanted it badly enough, I was going to go out and get some.  Within reason, I wasn't going to take no for an answer.

I had just had the loneliest haul of my life.  I hadn't yet replaced my last mal, and I hadn't felt the physical presence of a human for about half a percent of my lifespan.  I left the GW in the fueling station and headed for the bars.  I found one with several croses and, although the fems greatly outnumbered them, I was pleased to note that I was the prettiest one in the room.  Some of the sisters were into each other but I knew I couldn't stomach that – downy hair, breasts, huge nipples, fem scent – I don't know why, but the thought repulsed me.

I sat at the bar and drank for a while, watching the others, getting relaxed.  I started smiling at one or two of the better-looking croses, even though they each had a fem talking to them.  The smiles were returned and, when one of them walked to the bar from his table for a refill, he made a point of standing next to me.  It was now or never.  I steeled myself and hoped my voice would come out right.

"This is no place to look for a wife, Mister," I told him.

He shrugged.  "I'm here with a Goldie repair team for the next two orbits.  Plans for marriage are on hold while I work my way out of debt with hell-based assignments like this one."

I had lucked out – here was a cros I could talk shop with about Gold Wings, not to mention follow up on his leading remark about being in debt.  I held out a hand.

"Pilot Moon, First Class, Nebula Goldie." He had to shake, which he did.  "You can call me Meg."

"Wow, it's a privilege, Meg.  I'm Ax.  It's my ambition to go to pilot school.  You know, there are better bars in this place for someone of your seniority."

I grinned. "This one suits just fine if I can find decent company.  I'm willing to buy the drinks for a debt-ridden engineer who can help me to relax and enjoy my stop-over."

Ax glanced back at his table, where two overweight and older fems looked the worse for alcohol, then he slipped into the chair beside me.  "Yours is the G-11 we saw coming in a couple of hours ago?" he asked.

The talk and beer flowed freely for something over an hour.  It was pleasant, but it wasn't why I was there.  The more I drank, the better-looking Ax became.  I decided to take a small gamble, and secretly slipped a love-pill into my drink.  For best effect, they needed to be taken at least an hour before orgasm.  The problem was, if you didn't have one, you'd be wired like a lab-monkey for the rest of the night.  I was now committed to score.

I gradually moved my stool and sitting position until our knees were touching.  After a few hand-gestures, it didn't seem awkward to rest my palm on his leg briefly, then again for a longer time.  He didn't resist, and soon I was finding excuses to touch him in various places.  When he finally said something funny enough, I laughed loudly and rested my forehead against his shoulder.  He smelled great and my hunger for him suddenly leapt.  He could tell I was a bit drunk so I felt I had an excuse to take a chance. I pushed my nose against his neck and breathed in his cologne.  Intoxicating.  I turned my face up to his, our lips very close.  He didn't pull away.  I gave an apologetic grin.

"Galax, I'm horny!" I said softly.  "These long hauls can drive me crazy.  You're a real nice boy, you know?  Can we go somewhere private so I can refuel with a little human touch?"

"It sounds fun, but my next shift starts in an hour," he replied.

I didn't believe it, but I would call his bluff.  I pulled out a thousand and held it up to him.  "So you're going to be very late, and this is to cover the pay they dock from you."

He hesitated, then took the note.  "A cros in debt has no dignity," he sighed.

I threw cash on the bar, stood up and took his arm.  "I don't need your dignity.  Quite the opposite."

Short-time rooms were available next door and I bought a couple of hours.  The bed was equipped with stirrups, but I'm not the type of fem who likes to just hang there.  When I was undressed I pulled him to me, and he didn't lose any time.  I had made sure to keep hold of the remote so that, once I had him where I wanted him, I shut down all the lights and the darkness was complete.  That way, I was able to imagine anyone servicing me.  I know some fems like to watch movies where their fantasy lovers are brought to life, but for me that would be second-best to my own creative thoughts.  The character I used in my self-satisfying routines was now working on me, even though I had to tell myself his head had been shaved as some kind of punishment.  Once I had suspended disbelief for that one, I could caress his scalp and – best of all – feel his ears lightly between my thumb and first finger.

I had nothing to compare him with, but the experience was many times better than doing it alone.  I now understood why so many sisters would brag about their adventures.  Apart from being the most amazing sensation in the world, you had this sense of passing through the final gate of full adulthood, of independence and personal power.  This cros was part my slave, part my master, and I was part his master and part his slave.  It was a lesson in extreme intimacy combined with casual acquaintance, making an erotic mockery of social convention.  In that deep black, soundproof room, it was natural to do and scream the craziest things.  My screaming filled the room in place of light.  Perhaps this indebted, low-level mechanic was the only human who would ever know Meg Moon this way. The fact that I was slumming it with him in this hourly love-hotel only added to my sense of abandon.  I became so loud that I finally decided it would be considerate to cover his ears with my thighs.  But the sudden tension I applied to the inner muscles sent such a delicious wave through me that the poor guy must have felt his head being crushed.

Finally, I knew I was fully out of orgasms.  I rested a while, still in the dark, running my hands lightly over his head and neck, feeling a little tender towards this young cros who had taken me to the final level of femhood.  Then I decided I shouldn't keep him longer from his shift – if indeed he had one.  I turned on the light and looked down to smile at him – but what he actually saw was a horrified expression. Blood was smeared around his mouth.  My period must have started very early – my exceptionally long time in deep space must have accelerated it even more than usual.

There was clearly not too much blood, as he hadn't noticed it by touch.  I pointed to the mirror and, when he saw himself, he ran to the bathroom.  While he was in there, I quickly dressed with the strategic use of paper towels.  I could hear him gargling and spitting many times.  He emerged wearing a towel around his waist.

"I am so terribly sorry!"  I told him.  "Please accept the fact that it was an honest mistake.  You probably know that space travel plays havoc with menstruation.  But also let me assure you that you have nothing to worry about.  I am tested for absolutely everything on every second day abroad ship.  And you're the first cros I've ever had – the first sex, in fact, because I can't do anything with another fem."

He stood with his arms folded.  "Did you know that here, what you just did is a crime?  I could have you arrested."

I didn't know, and frankly I wasn't sure I believed him.  As I have mentioned, there are some crazy laws and so many legal jurisdictions that you can't keep track of them.  But that makes it too easy for anyone to claim that anything is illegal, and few people are knowledge enough to contradict them.  I suspected he was freaking out and I needed to play this one carefully.

"I don't think calling the police would be a good idea for either of us," I told him calmly.  "If your employer found out you were late because of being paid to have sex with me, you could lose your job.  How about I give you another five thousand and we just let it go?"