Sir ChickenBurger
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Killer Kittens from Outer Space- Chapter Twenty Seven
🕑 Added 2024-04-16 02:01:45 +0000 UTC
Ana
Ana took a deep breath of fresh air as she strode down the tarmac. For all that the continent had a reputation for its extreme heat, the weather actually reminded her a lot of Rio, but the air was cleaner, and she found herself relaxing into the warmth of the sun as she made her way toward the monolithic building that was to serve as the Imperial consulate for the region.
At the moment it was little more than a large building with an attached military base; the senior officials who might normally have attended such postings were largely opting to remain in orbit until their safety could be guaranteed. Still, there was a skeleton crew of staff members in attendance, one of whom came out to greet her as she disembarked.
“Specialist Cardoso,” the kespan woman, clad in the navy blue of the diplomatic core, greeted her. “I hope your flight wasn’t too uncomfortable. Landing is often stressful for first-time fliers.”
Ana smiled thinly, trying not to think too hard about the descent. I have to admit, re-entering orbit is one thing the army didn’t prepare me for, she thought. I’ll take a C-130 any day over that.
“It wasn’t so bad,” she lied. “The captain and crew were quite competent. I knew I was in good hands.” She turned and waved a thank you to said captain, who nodded and returned the gesture. They’d already planned a time for dinner, and the thought of a juicy filet mignon still had her salivating.
“I’m glad,” the staffer said curtly. “Now, once we’ve got you signed in, I’m told that you have an appointment with the gentleman from GalWave. He’s already booked one of our meeting rooms on the ground floor, and I can direct you there just as soon as you’ve got your luggage stowed away.”
“I’ll handle that for you, wouldn’t do to keep the man waiting,” Banta held out a paw, and Ana shrugged off her pack and handed it over gratefully.
“Very good. Shall we?” The staffer gestured, and Ana followed her inside. It took only a moment for them to sign in, and after parting ways with Banta and Vrina, Ana found herself being led through the tall, wide corridors of the blocky new building until they arrived in front of a grey door labelled simply with the kespan script for the number three.
“One moment,” the staff member said, and she opened the door to stick her head inside. When she retracted it, she nodded in a slight bow. “Mister Mar’miar is not yet here. Please wait inside while I send word.” She smiled. “I’m sure he will be most pleased to meet you at last. He was very insistent that he be told as soon as you arrived.” She delivered the last comment with just the barest hint of intrigue, and Ana sighed internally, the same way she did every time Banta made a suggestive comment about her supposed horn-doggedness.
“Thank you,” she said, and the woman disappeared down the corridor. Alone at last, Ana let out the long grumbling sigh she’d been stifling and looked around. The room was a simple setup— just a single oval table and eight chairs in its center. One of the walls featured a slight protrusion towards the ceiling that she supposed might have been concealing some kind of projector, but otherwise, the space was wholly empty. She opted to stand, which was a good thing, because no more than two minutes must have passed when there was a quiet knock at the door, which then opened as the staffer ushered two new kespans into the room then, closed the door behind them.
The first through the door was a woman Ana hadn’t met, whom she presumed to be the wife of the man who followed her. The woman had a cagey look; she was glancing between Ana and her husband like she didn’t know what to make of the situation. Still, she took a step forward and bowed in the kespan fashion, and when she straightened up, it was with a small, tight-lipped smile.
“Specialist Cardoso,” she greeted Ana. “I was in the room when you gave your presser, you made quite the impression. My name is Skara Mar’miar, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m told your species touches hands in greeting, is that right?” She held one hand out in front of her.
Ana smiled. “That’s right, and likewise, it’s a pleasure.” Although, I have no idea what you think of me right now. She took the proffered hand. “Like this, up and down.” The woman was tense, and her handshake was jerky and stilted. Ana let go quickly.
“We were quite concerned for your health last time we saw you. I hope you are well? You recognize my husband, Jelakka, of course.” Skara gestured towards the familiar man, who nodded.
Ana took the opportunity to examine him a little closer. It was fascinating to think that his appearance reflected the galactic standard for a man; while his hips seemed narrower than his wife’s, everything else about him screamed feminine to her, from the painted nails that he held up by his neck to the subtle powdered darkening beneath his eyes and the way he carried himself— a little more daintily, he’d wafted into the room rather than striding. He was dressed to impress too, in a prim white blouse covered by a loose jacket, and form-accentuating trousers with a flare at the ankle. With a start of surprise, she realized that he was wearing heels, strappy sandal-like contraptions that displayed long toenails, painted similarly to his fingernails, and he was carrying a handbag.
He was gaunter than the woman, who was already quite slight when compared to the war-forms she’d spent time alongside in the military. He didn’t look unhealthy, but he was thin, with an angular face and piercing green eyes that matched the color of his earring- a strip of emerald stones set into a gold loop on his left ear.
His posture was guarded too; he kept his elbows tucked up against his sides and he was sticking close to his wife. The conversations she’d had with her squadmates filled her head again. Great, they really do think I’m just here to get in his pants. He likely only agreed to see me out of propriety and now I’ve dragged them away from their work on the surface. I might need to run some damage control here.
“Of course,” she answered. “He was the only one in the room whose questions surprised me. I should start by clarifying something,” she said, rubbing at the back of her head awkwardly. “I’ve been told that my invitation was rather forward compared to galactic conventions, but please rest assured that my focus is wholly on making sure that humanity puts its best foot forward for the galaxy to consider. If all that people talk about is war and casualties, they will be missing out on the many contributions I feel that humanity can make toward a better galactic community. I thought that after his questions the other day, your husband might be the right choice of journalist to speak to.”
To her surprise, the assurance didn’t seem to alleviate the tenseness in their shoulders, and their hackles stayed very slightly raised. Unease, her translator chip whispered into her brain. Alertness. Geez, have I really bungled this meeting so soon?
“Oh, not to worry,” the male, Jelakka, stammered, but she noticed with some surprise that his attention wasn’t entirely on her. Instead, his gaze swept the cornices and skirting boards, and his eyes flickered back and forth in a manner that Ana was beginning to recognize; his implant was feeding him information. “Likewise, I’m interested in making sure that your species has a path forward as more than a refugee race. It’s why I put my name forward to be on the new fleet after all. My wife has been kind enough to escort me, so we’re both here to help.” He met her eyes as he stressed the last few words, and Ana frowned, trying to make sense of the implicit message there.
Then his eyes returned to a spot on the wall that seemed to have caught his attention during his earlier inspection, and his shoulders bunched together. He reached over to touch his wife on the arm, and Ana caught the minute movement his finger traced on her skin. A circle and then a light tap in its center. Some kind of code? Her instincts were screaming at her to pay attention, but they were both staring at her earnestly now, and she had to respond.
“Er, that’s very good of you,” she said, her brain working to process the strange turn that the interview seemed to have taken. “Shall we begin? Did you have some questions prepared?”
The pair hesitated.
“Actually,” the woman said. “Do you mind if we conduct it elsewhere? Perhaps over lunch in town? My husband is still feeling quite claustrophobic after our long stint in space and mentioned to me that he’d much rather talk to you outside. You might need to drive. I hate to admit it but,” a flash of genuine embarrassment cut through her on-edge demeanor. “I have discovered that I lack the talent for it, and you humans sure do seem to love your death carriages. Perhaps you could pick the place? I’d be happy to pick up your bill in exchange.”
First dinner and now lunch paid for? For aliens, they sure know how to get on my good side. Ana thought, but that old adage still sprang to mind. There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Whatever the reason, there was something more to the change of venue. Jelakka seemed put off by the room. What could he have noticed that would put him on edge like that? A bug? Are we being watched? Why would that bother them so much?
The obvious answer would be that they were trying to get her to talk to them off the record. Still, it was worth considering other reasons. Is it me they’re after? Unlikely. Firstly because she’d been the one to initiate this meeting, and secondly because her uniform monitored her vitals the same way every Imperial soldier was monitored and tracked. No, it was much more likely they were trying to get her alone to talk to her about something. But what? Let’s see where this goes.
“I’d be happy to,” she said. “I have a hankering for sushi. Do you both like fish? Let me quickly change into civvies and I’ll meet you at the front desk.”
The drive was awkward, to say the least. As they piled into the car, she’d paid attention to the way both her new acquaintances' eyes tracked across the surfaces of its interior, and the minute signals they seemed to send each other, mostly flicks of the ears, small twitches of the nose, and meaningful looks.
Still, they managed to make some small talk on the ride. “…It was so embarrassing,” Skara’s ears folded down as Jelakka finished up the story of their first day’s outing. “I felt so bad about the poor man’s carriage, and he was so angry and crass! I tried to leave a description of him at the embassy to have him compensated, and they told me I should have memorized the numbers on the back of his car! I didn’t know!”
“I can imagine that being pretty overwhelming,” Ana chuckled.
“If you don’t mind me asking, Specialist,” Jelakka prompted as Ana turned into the parking lot of the nearest shopping center to the consulate. “What does it mean to be a gay alien?”
The car lurched as Ana tapped the brakes a little too hard. Stifling a laugh, she looked back into the rear seat. The flamboyant alien’s head was tilted curiously to the side, and he was holding a polished claw up to his pursed lips. Her grin widened, and she coughed as she tried to hold it together.
“In what context?” she asked, still battling for control of her expression.
“Well, we walked into an establishment in search of food, and the vendor took one look at me and said, ‘fuck me dead, a gay alien’” Jelakka scratched his head. “I understood the first part was just an expression of surprise, but what did the second bit mean?” Ana swung the car into the first available park to avoid an accident as her grin spilled over into a genuine laugh, surprising the male. “What? What did he mean by it?”
Ana wrested control again. “Sorry,” she said, still grinning. “A gay person is just someone whose orientation for… partners… leans wholly toward the same sex.”
“So, a woman who has sex with other women, but not men?” Jelakka tilted his head. “That’s normal though, isn’t it? Plenty of women settle down together. So he thought I was a woman. I understand, I’d heard that humans are a little different in how they express themselves compared to the rest of the galaxy.” His nose wrinkled a little as he examined his nails. “It feels a little strange to be considered feminine, but I’ll try not to take it personally.”
“Or like a man who only has sex with other men,” Ana shrugged, and the pair of kespans stilled, Skara’s hand froze around the door handle, her ears sticking ramrod straight in the air as redness started to creep up her neck. “In fact, gay is a term more often used to describe men than women, though it could mean either.” When she saw the looks on their faces, she hesitated. “What?”
“That… human men do that?” Jel squeaked, his face flushing. “How would that even… oh my…”
Skara looked over at her husband up and down with wide eyes, her face going even more beet red until Ana was half convinced that the top of her head might start smoking. “I think I need a cold shower,” she mumbled.
“Wait, that’s not a thing elsewhere?” Ana’s humor gave way to concern. We all know how long it took humanity to get with the program and start accepting homosexuality. Some of us still don’t. I hope I haven’t just stepped right into dangerous territory.
“I mean, outside of fetishy stuff, and even then… not really?” Skara blinked, apparently still flabbergasted. “Like, only other males? There’s just not enough of them. Some of the richest family groups have multiple men, but for there to be a word for guys who live that way… Well, I suppose you come across something new every day.”
Jelakka was still flushed as they entered the little sushi shop that Ana had picked out for them from a quick search of local businesses. The back row of tables were private booths with dividing walls, and as they made a beeline for them, other diners hurriedly made way for them, some even picking up their meals to avoid them. Ana’s stomach fluttered uncomfortably at the sight, but there was nothing for it. She just hoped none of them recognized her from the press conference. I’m glad I thought to change out of my uniform. I wonder if it was broadcast down here?
The good news was that the other patrons’ unease left them with plenty of space for a private conversation.
“I’m just going to start ordering things,” Ana said as the pair of felinoids stared curiously at the pictures on the menu. “If you don’t like something, you don’t need to eat it.” Flagging down a reluctant waitress, she ordered several rounds of nigiri and some teriyaki chicken rolls, then turned back to the pair. “Anyway, where were we?”
Instead of answering, Jelakka held up a hand to signal her to wait, then reached into his bag and procured a small sack. He made a show of withdrawing his communicator from a pocket, switching it off, and then placing it in the sack. He held it out to his wife, who followed suit. Then they both sat expectantly, looking between Ana and the sack.
Ana raised an eyebrow, and the man shrugged. Looks like I’m not getting an explanation out of them unless I play along. Hesitantly, she handed over her phone-like communicator, and it went in the sack too, which was tied closed and left in the middle of the table.
“Let’s wait for the food to get here first,” Jelakka proposed, but he’d no sooner opened his mouth than the waitress had returned with trays of fish and rice, setting them down in front of the trio and then scampering away. “Huh, quick service.”
His wife’s eyes lit up at the sight of the colorful fish. “Wow, it smells amazing,” she salivated, leaning across the table with wide eyes.
“Alright,” Ana clapped her hands together, and the pair of hungry cats jumped slightly. “Enough sneaking around. What’s got your tails in knots?” She nodded towards the sack on the table. “Why the subterfuge?”
“So we can talk without anyone listening in,” Jelakka confirmed, and Ana nodded.
“Right, but what about?” she pressed. “I’m just a soldier. Sure, I’m one of the first humans working for the Imperium, but I’m still not seeing a reason for all this sneaking around.”
“Well, for one thing, I’d rather not have to censor my questions.” Jelakka said. “But the main reason, well.” He leaned in, and Ana followed suit until they were close enough together that she could smell the flowery scent he was wearing. “How did your operation go? Did they get the rejected implants out okay?”
Ana blinked. “Implants? What implants?”
The man’s eyes flashed. “I knew it.”
Comments
Hauke Sattler
To bad the Earth Internet is down. Ana could have given them enlightening search prompts. But then maybe Skara would need to shower with liquid helium after googling for 'make her airtight'
