Chapter 21 In which Muzati is a surprising font of confusing wisdom
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
In which Muzati is a surprising font of confusing wisdom
Shohari
GARRISON INSISTED on letting me shower first. I was going to clean the mats later, but when I handed the tiny sonic cubicle over to him, he’d already done it.
I should have waited for him.
I shouldn’t just leave, not after what we’d done, what we’d shared. Especially not after last time.
But he kept saying things, things that were scary and dangerous.
I should have gone back to the bridge, should have reviewed the next few trades, but I couldn’t think about that either, but I did need to think, and I didn’t need Paiata’s comments right now.
Not that I wouldn’t get comments from Muzati, of course.
She stuck her head out of the tube she was in, lying on her back, eyeing me upside down. “Hang on, Cap, I need to be upright for this, don’t I?”
She gripped the exit handle above her, swinging down with a lithe flip that only lean kri’ith like her could make.
She rubbed her grubby hands over her even grubbier spikes, then looked me up and down, a wide grin forming. “I thought I heard something through the tubes. Was it the big human? Was it good?”
I inclined my head, and then, because I had to tell someone, I blurted, “I locked him.”
“You what? But you said—”
“I know what I said.” Kheh. That it wasn’t worth the gamble of locking anyone when I’d have to mate a male picked by my parents. That I didn’t want to risk finding someone who could get into my bones. That I didn’t want to set myself up for a life of pain for someone I’d lose.
“Was it worth it?” Her voice had softened, and, yes, I’d done the right thing coming down to Muzati.
“It was… very awkward in places. But, aye. I’m happy.”
“I hear another ‘but’ there. And I want to hear about the awkwardness. What’s the other ‘but’?”
I glanced around the engineering bay, wondering what had broken today on my lovely ship.
“Now you’ve had him once, you want more? Is that it?” she asked.
For a moment, I was a much younger female. One with options, one who saw the gods in the stars and wished for something more. A youth barely out of girlhood, with a crush on another female, or maybe a male, someone I might dream of taking as my mate, though being an adult was far from my mind.
I wasn’t that young any more. My parents had stolen my dreams from me.
A tiny, innocent part of me—one I kept bolted down—took a tentative breath. “Yes. I want more. Is that wrong?”
This was why I’d given myself boundaries, Kridammit. But Garrison was human. Safe. Maybe those boundaries didn’t have to be so firm.
My friend’s eyes tightened. “You know it isn’t. You deserve to be happy, Shohari. You won’t be beholden to them forever. I know it. You have to believe it.”
She took a step towards me, and I held up a hand. “Don’t even think about hugging me. I’ve just showered and you’re all… tubey.”
“‘Tubey’? Is that a word? I’m really sure that isn’t a word.”
“Quiet. I’m the captain and it’s a word if I say it is.”
Why couldn’t all of life be this simple? Why couldn’t I declare the future to be whatever I wanted, just because I was the captain, or because I could? “I hope you’re right, Muzi.”
“So are you going to ask him to stay?” She raised her eyes to the gods when she saw my face. “You haven’t even considered it, have you?”
“Why? He’s leaving.”
“Does he have to?”
“Why would he want to stay here?”
“For skyk’s sake, Sho. I know you’re Orithian, but don’t be so obtuse.”
I glared at her, but there was nothing I could say, no argument to have.
“Please, Sho. Just ask him.”
I shuddered a deep breath. “I’ll try.”
But we both knew I wouldn’t—because I never asked anyone for anything.
Garrison
“EVERYBODY HEARD you two fucking,” Imani said casually. “Everybody.”
I sank down onto a pile of blankets. “Sorry.” But I couldn’t keep the shit-eating grin off my face.
Even finding Shohari gone when I got out of the shower wasn’t enough to dull my mood. It was always two steps forward and one step back with her. Being inside her had to be five steps forward—at least.
“It’s okay. You weren’t the noisiest one.” She considered me for a minute, then gave me a bigger smile. “You look actually happy.”
“I’m always happy.”
“Not like this. You’re… glowing. Whatever that means.”
“Don’t ask me. Isn’t that what they say about pregnant people?”
“It is. Do you think humans and aliens can get each other pregnant?”
I shrugged. “No idea.” I wasn’t into hypothetical discussions.
Oh.
Oh, shit.
“It’s probably unlikely that such different species are automatically compatible,” she continued, as if I didn’t have any stakes in the topic. “But if you’re going to make a habit of it, you might want to look into it. Or use condoms.”
Got to love Imani’s bluntness. “Sure. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Do you like her? Romantically, I mean, not just sexually.”
Imani was great, but I couldn’t brush her off with a non-answer; that bullshit didn’t work on her. She didn’t fill the empty space with words like so many people did. No, she just sat there with her serene smile and waited for me to find the answer.
Which was what? Of course it was more than lust. I always needed some kind of emotional connection before sleeping with someone, and, yes, things had moved fast, but it wasn’t like we had much time. And that was the problem, wasn’t it?
“I wish I had the opportunity to find out,” I said, my voice flat.
“Why don’t you?”
I took a measured breath. “Because we’re leaving in two days.”
She looked at me as if I’d said something really absurd. “You could just stay.”
“I can’t invite myself to stay on someone else’s ship.”
“Why not? She likes you.”
“It’s not that easy.” If only. “And there’s a difference between wanting to fuck someone and wanting to be in a relationship.” I could guess which one Shohari was.
“I know that. I have done both, you know.”
“Right. Of course.”
“Multiple times.”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to imply you hadn’t. I’m just frustrated.” I stood, needing to close this off before I upset her more. Or got more details. Or had to think harder about my own situation.
“I know. It could be that easy, though.” She stared off into the middle distance again.
“People dance around what they really mean, but you don’t have to.
What if you just… didn’t? You could just say it.
You don’t want to end up on Vadias, but you do want to spend more time with Shohari. So tell her.”
Imani had an interesting way of seeing things, but she made it sound so logical. Regardless, I needed to put to rest the other thought she’d seeded.
The engineering bay was empty when I got there. “Muzati?”
Something clattered inside the ship, and a smiling kri’ith face popped out of a hole amongst some tubing and wiring.
She rolled onto her stomach. “Hey, captain’s favourite human.”
I ran my hand over my hair. “Yeah, about that. You’re the ship’s medic, right?”
“Yes. She didn’t break your parts, did she? Was she too rough? Do you need me to examine you?” She twisted her face in distaste. “The captain might not like that. Kri’ith can be possessive, you see.”
I held up my hand. “Stop. None of those. I was just wondering…”
“Get it out, then.”
“If… other species can, uh, breed. Get each other pregnant.”
“Oh my gods, look, it’s really cute that you want babies, but don’t you think it’s a little soon? Have you talked to Shohari about it? Oh! I wonder what they’d look like. What if they had a mane and headspines? Don’t you think that would be the cutest thing?”
How could I speak to two people in the space of ten minutes who were equally challenging in totally different ways?
“Forget I asked. It’s clearly possible, then.” Shit.
“Oh. Not without medications, usually.”
Thank fuck. “That’s what I was getting at. I really don’t want to accidentally get her pregnant.” Or have already done that.
“Got you. Sorry. Ship’s medic. Be professional, Muzati.
” She pulled a tool from her headspines and hit the side of her head with it.
“No, while a few sapient species can interbreed relatively easily, kri’ith generally can’t.
There are fertility treatments for interspecies relationships who want to have offspring.
But the chances of you getting a non-human pregnant are pretty low.
I think. Unless humans are, like, extra virile or something.
I mostly deal with injuries. I’m not a virility specialist, Garrison. You do know this is a trading vessel?”
I sifted through her words to find what I needed. “Pretty low is still possible. How do I find out?”
“I could run a sample through Comnica and see if humans are similar to any other sapients. We could reasonably estimate the chances from that. Or the captain can just get a contraceptive. Why aren’t you having this conversation with her, human?
Do you not think talking about things together is kind of important?
” Her golden stare was piercing, as if by glaring hard enough she could laser some information psychically into my brain.
“I will. But I don’t want to freak her out. Or accidentally say something culturally insensitive and mess everything up.”
“Hmm. She can be like that. Can I be serious with you a minute?”
Muzati? Serious? “Uh, sure.”
“Shohari’s my captain. Obviously. But she’s also my friend.
And I don’t want to speak out of turn. But I really, really want what’s best for her.
And I can’t tell you the stuff that she couldn’t even tell us until recently.
Even though that’s important. And I can’t tell you what she just said, apart from I heard what happened and, honestly, are your gonads okay?
Do you need a medic? Shall we go to the medbay? ”
Give me strength.
“I’m fine.” Physically, at least. Mentally, I was fraying by the minute in various directions. “You wanted to tell me something.”
She sighed dramatically. “I want to tell you lots of things. But, just— She might not say the right things sometimes. Or say anything. But she’s worth taking a risk for. Understand?”
Well, that made as much sense as anything else, but she looked so earnest, I didn’t want to let her down—or risk her trying to explain things again.
Especially that.
“Okay,” I said. “Yes, absolutely. Thank you.”
“Any time. Love talking to you, Garrison. And I’ll find you in the galley later and take you down to medbay so we can get your sperm analysed, so then you know whether we might be saying hello to little baby Garrisari next year. Gassi? Hariga? Shoharrison? Or maybe you should choose the name. Bye.”
She pulled herself back into the hole and started making a rough melodious sound that could have been singing.
I dragged a hand over my hair. At least it sounded like we’d probably not made a baby.