Chapter 12 Destiny
Destiny
“It was so embarrassing!” I groan from the service counter, where I am leaning dramatically, holding my pounding head in my hands. “You should have seen him, Furga. He had no idea what I was doing. He probably thinks I’m a crazy person!”
“I told you, kissing is a foreign concept to us. He probably just thought you were constipated,” she tells me from her place in front of the big data screen.
I can only groan and hide my face in my hands again. Leave it to me to be the first to try and kiss an alien. Maybe I really am too reckless…
Furga is tapping away on the big data screen attached to the counter this morning. She explained when we first arrived that in the mornings, while it is slow, we need to pack all our orders. Some citizens request their orders be delivered.
“There’s not many of those here today,” Furga tells me. “Most people come to pick up their own orders. There’s just a few exceptions. Folks who have a hard time leaving their apartment, that kind of thing.”
The English language package downloaded overnight, so now I can actually help Furga with the workload here. Despite my pounding hangover headache I hop from my seat and follow her into the back of the room when she starts to shop.
“This order is for Stomawk, a friend of mine. He doesn’t leave his apartment much, because of the stares,” Furga sounds sad, which even after only two days, I know is not like her.
“Stares?”
“Yeah, Stomawk is a Rankian. There’s only like fifteen left in the whole galaxy. I think there’s a few of them are here on Sanctuary. They keep to themselves, though.”
I rack my brain for information on Rankians, but I don’t even think the orientation video mentioned them.
“Are they…er… particularly unique looking?” I ask, gesturing to my own face.
“I think the horns just scare people off. They don’t bother me, though.
Stomawk is a big softy, really. Well, maybe not a softy but he’s friendly.
Well, maybe not friendly, but he’s been through a lot and I figure he could use a friend.
And he always throws things wildly off target.
I don’t think he actually wants to hit me, he’s just defensive.
And paranoid. Who could blame him, though?
So few left. I can’t even imagine…” Furga finally peters off her rambling, but the damage is already done.
I’m picturing the biggest, meanest set of devil’s horns on a giant, grumpy beast. After all, Dhugaren’s have horns and no one is afraid of them.
Well I was a tiny bit, at first, but only because one of them pushed me down.
“You have horns, Furg. Why isn’t anyone afraid of you?”
“Excuse me, our horns are beautiful and majestic. Rankian horns are,” she shudders before continuing, “really scary. There’s a lot more of them, for one.”
“What do you mean? They have more than two?”
“Yep, they have a ring of them around their skull. They call it their defensive crown.”
I picture a dinosaur who lived on Earth a long time ago, with a rounded dome head surrounded by spikes. Perhaps that is similar to what Furga is describing?
“Let me go with you to deliver the orders. I wanna meet him.”
“Why, do you think he’ll know what kissing is? Khur will be very sad to hear you moved on so quickly.”
“Oh my god, Furga, be for real. I am not going around kissing citizens willy-nilly like that. It was a miscommunication. One that is still threatening to kill me via mortification.”
“Can humans die like that? You must be such fragile creatures.”
She actually looks worried that I will die from mortification, and I feel a stupid, happy little burst of warmth in my heart. I have a friend who cares about me. That is a real gift. No need for bright side speeches today. I have a true friend, and she’s kind of goofy. How lucky am I?
“No, but we are known for our dramatic ways,” I tease, leaning against the closest shelf, clutching my heart to illustrate my point.
“That part I could have guessed,” she replies with a laugh.
“Dhugarens are dramatic, in their own ways. We tease and poke and joke relentlessly sometimes. Like last night,” Furga pauses and takes a breath, steeling herself, “I am sorry I made you uncomfortable. I was only teasing, but I forget that other races don’t take as kindly to that as Dhugarens do.
I hope I haven’t scared you off Khur. He’s a really good male, and he deserves a little happiness. He looked really happy last night.”
“Oh, Furga, my friend. Something you will quickly learn about me, and I should warn you, most humans might not be the same in this, but I do not hold grudges. Life is too short, and the galaxy is too big to let the small things drive a wedge between friends. I forgave you last night before I’d even reached my apartment. ”
She smiles brilliantly at me, her fangs gleaming.
They protrude from her bottom jaw and push her top lip up a bit, same as Khur’s, and I find it so endearing.
On Khur, admittedly, I find it unbelievably hot and I kind of want to lick those fangs.
On Furga, though, it’s just really cute, like a kid in pigtails.
I wonder if she’d let me do her hair…er, fur… whatever.
“Khur and I are just friends, though,” I say lamely, sounding, even to my own ears, like I am disappointed by this fact.
“You don’t have to be, though. I think he may be more open to the idea than you realize.” She has a gleam in her eye, like she knows something I don’t, and I don’t like the spark of hope that flares inside me.
“We’re different species. It’s never going to happen. I haven’t seen one interspecies couple on this station, yet. Why is that? It may not be illegal, but it doesn't seem to be socially acceptable.”
“Maybe everyone is waiting for one brave couple to be the first.”
Her voice is so full of longing I can’t respond.
Suddenly the image of Shemo staring hungrily after her yesterday leaps into my mind.
Maybe Furga’s right. Maybe there are a slew of couples just waiting for someone else to break the seal, if you will.
Or maybe there’s just one. Just two people desperate for each other, but too afraid to say anything.
My heart aches for my friend, and I try not to get stuck in the cycle of what-ifs currently working through my mind.
I’m not sure I can be the trailblazer here, though.
I want adventure and excitement, but that is not how I pictured getting it.
It’s too big of a risk. Sure, everyone might just be waiting for one couple to come out to start an interspecies gang bang, but they could also turn against us.
I couldn’t stand the thought of the whole station hating me, and Khur by association, treating us like pariahs for daring to be together.
I try to shove all those thoughts away and focus on what Furga is showing me. It’s a lot to think about, but on the bright side, I have plenty to keep me busy.
I don’t get to meet the Rankian, after all.
Furga says she wants to warn him first, and someone should watch the supply station anyways.
Luckily, only a few customers come by to pick up the orders Furga helped me pack before she left.
Before I know it, I am walking back to my apartment, and as much as I want to wander and explore, the energy it took to be cheery through my hangover has exhausted me and all I want to do is crash.
The apartment is quiet when I enter and the lights come on to greet me. I almost don’t bother to call out, but I can’t stop myself.
“Hey Dad. I’m home.”
I don’t wait for a response, just trudge to the kitchen and punch in the sequence I have finally figured out makes mac and cheese.
While the machine works its magic, I lean heavily on the countertop.
There’s no fridge, no microwave. There are open shelves above the counter where cabinets might be, but they're empty besides our standard-issue pairs of cups, bowls and utensils. There are no drawers, which totally threw me off at first. I just wish I had a few pretty dishes to add to the shelf. Urzu’s lovely pottery set comes to mind, but I think I want something more colorful.
Man, those credits are gonna be gone the second I get them.
A shuffling alerts me to my dad, coming into the kitchen in his bathrobe and worn slippers. He wears a stormy expression, his dark brows pushed low over his eyes, his mouth set in a firm line.
“Destiny,” he bites out, then stops.
“...Dad? Everything okay?” I ask.
He’s acting even weirder than normal.
“Did you tell that alien to come check on me?”
“Alien…?” then it dawns on me. Last night, Gunnvall suggested coming by, but it totally slipped my mind, “Oh Dad, please tell me you weren’t mean to Gunnvall. He’s a really nice guy.”
“You’re not worried if he was mean to me? Why am I the bad guy here?” he shouts at me.
“No one is the bad guy here," I respond with a little more heat than I intend to. "Gunnvall offered to come introduce himself to you. He was at the dinner party last night and wanted to help us adjust. Everyone did, they’re all so friendly.”
“Well I don’t want it. I don’t need their pity or their help. I don’t need anyone’s.”
“Well, I sure think you need mine.”
I want to bite the words back as soon as they're out. Snatch them out of the air between us and swallow them. I’ve never said anything like that to him, but now that the words out, I know I can’t erase them from between us, or from my mind.
In fact, I can’t seem to stop as more come shooting out of me.