Chapter 9
DADDY
I knew better than to entirely trust Twink’s assertions about his phone, not when there was a possibility Chelsea’s method to control his mind had safeguards in place in case someone tried to influence him.
Yet there was also my awareness of the many deficits in my own reasoning abilities that could have easily led me to misunderstand the situation.
Even worse than the embarrassment, it seemed this body suffered as a result of my possible misstep—I feared I had lost Twink’s trust.
He continued to assure me about his phone, explaining this mysterious piece of equipment.
He also gave me an update on the state of technology on his planet, including AI capabilities, which were so primitive, it seemed unlikely for society to have evolved to the point I’d initially feared.
Once I was satisfied it was unlikely he was in harm’s way, I made his comfort my priority.
I showed him into another room, demonstrating how to use the reorienter, which he operated to shift the main room of my ship into something he was more comfortable with—a living area with a big plush sofa, love seat, and fireplace.
A wall-length window overlooked a simulation of a lake, adding to the cozy atmosphere I could tell had at once made a difference in Twink’s vitals.
After he drank some more water, he settled on the sofa, taking a breath. “Okay, this is a lot to absorb.” He looked around at the furniture he’d made manifest and bobbed up and down on the sofa, as though waiting for it to give under him.
“The atoms stabilize after it picks up the image from your mind.”
His forehead creased, but then he shrugged. “Well, if I’m losing my mind, nice to know it’s in a comfortable setting.”
“I’m sorry,” I apologized, not for the first time since my blunder. It was the best I could think to say, and I didn’t know what I could do to make up for what I’d done.
“Sorry for what? Attacking me with tentacles in an alley? Oh, no. That’s like the third time that’s happened to me this week.”
“You were attacked this week?” I asked, my anxiety increasing, but I didn’t sense concern from him. Maybe amusement. “A joke?”
“Yeah, big guy. Sorry, it’s not the best situation for jokes, but it’s what I do when I get nervous.
” He continued searching the room before he said, “So…I’m not saying that I buy any of this alien stuff.
I mean, I believe aliens exist, and maybe I’ve watched one too many UFO documentaries—can’t really be Roger’s friend without getting into that stuff—so I should say I don’t necessarily believe that you’re an alien. But it would explain a lot.”
“For instance?”
“The first night in the bar, you didn’t really speak.”
“I hadn’t learned your language,” I explained. “My translator system had to reboot, which it didn’t do until later that night.”
“Which is why you could talk to me in the morning,” he observed. “And then there was that weird noise you made when I scared you.”
“What you describe as a scream is how I naturally speak.”
“Right. And then you kept calling me Twink.”
“Is that not your name here?”
He rolled his head back, laughing, which was refreshing, much better than the terror he was gripped with when he’d first woken up in the Kaylog.
“My name’s Charlie. Twink just means like a small, lean queer guy.”
“Oh…” It was frustrating to realize how much I’d misinterpreted, but mostly, I was disappointed because I enjoyed saying the name. But it also generated another question: “Is my name not Daddy?”
“Daddy’s…I don’t know, sometimes just like a hot older guy.
But there’s also this thing, like someone’s the Daddy, who takes charge and is in control and protective…
very dominant. And then you have Daddy’s boy, who is the submissive one who likes being taken care of and being treated well by Daddy, if that makes sense. ”
This sent a rush up my spine. “Oh, I like that.” I was probably looking at him too intensely, but his pupils flared.
“Yeah, I do too…” He seemed surprised he’d said that, maybe because of the circumstances. “Speaking of which, I’m guessing a lot of the times I thought you were joking, you were really misunderstanding things?”
“That’s correct. I’m a Furker.”
“’Scuse me?”
“Ah, my species, we’re used to creating placeholder names for words that you may not have an equivalent for in your language. In this case, you definitely won’t have a name for my species. I would say it in my native tongue…”
His eyes widened. “If it’s gonna be worse than that first thing you did, then no, thank you.”
“It would be much worse. And judging by your physical reaction to it, I wonder if the highest note might hurt you, so it isn’t something I’d attempt.”
“Appreciated.” He was quiet. It must’ve been a lot, absorbing the information I’d shared with him, so I gave him a moment.
“So,” he eventually said, “when you grabbed me outside…those appendages…were those tentacles?”
“Yes.” I sensed his stress at my acknowledgment. “Does something about my natural form upset you?”
“It’s strange, that’s for sure.”
A queasy sensation rose up in my chest. I didn’t like the thought that he might not find me attractive.
“I don’t have to use them around you. I was only restraining you earlier because I feared you might get away and warn Chelsea, which now I understand was not the case.”
“Where do they come out of?”
“They run vertically along the spine, on either side of it, on this back.”
“This back?”
“Furkers shapeshift to mimic the environment we’re in.”
His eyebrows jumped up in a way that sent a flurry of sensation to my face.
“Sure, why not? And how many tentacles do you have?”
“Eight.”
“Like an octopus?”
“I’m not familiar with what you’re talking about, so based on the context, I’d have to assume this octopus is something that also has eight limbs.”
“That’s right. It’s an animal in the ocean. A mollusk…an invertebrate. In any case, an octopus seems to be able to do a lot of the things you can.”
“I don’t have to get them out again.”
“No, it’s okay. Just something I have to get used to. Although, not sure why I’d have to get used to them…”
It was nice that he was already assuming we would remain in contact, despite my deception.
“And what brings you to Earth?” Again, I sensed concern I hoped to alleviate.
“That ex I told you about. She sabotaged my ship so I couldn’t leave her.
When we met, I thought she was one of the most beautiful of her species, had this magnetism that captivated me…
But she was not what she pretended to be.
I didn’t realize she had lured me into a trap, eventually capturing me to use me. ”
Twink’s gaze met mine, a softness in his expression, nothing like the tension in it when he’d first woken up. “I know the feeling. That’s how that asshole cheater was to me.”
It was nice to feel sympathy from someone about a situation I hadn’t had a chance to discuss with anyone.
“Yes,” I went on. “She captured me and forced me to mate with her repeatedly. I was just a vehicle for her to procreate with.”
He winced, his gaze shifting about uneasily. “Well, maybe we’re not as similar as I imagined. And you said you had kids with her?”
“I’ve had many kids over the course of my lifetime. With her and other species. Furkers are parasitic by nature. We mate with members of other species as a means of diversifying our genes.”
“Wait, you force unsuspecting creatures to have your babies?” he asked, his anxiety levels rising.
“Yes,” was my first response, which only made his eyes widen more.
“And no. The origins of the Furkers were like this: they existed solely to procreate, but over the generations, we developed ethical foundations for our nature, and while we still possess the desire to mate to procreate, we do so with consent of all species involved.”
“Guess not so different from humans,” he observed as his levels stabilized, and I was happy that my honest reply had set him at ease.
“How many kids do you have?”
“One thousand three hundred seventy-four.”
“Oh…wow…you do get around.”
“Around?”
“You have slept with a lot of…species?”
“My ex and I didn’t really sleep.”
He seemed frustrated by my candor. “You mated with a lot of exes, is what I was trying to say.”
“Ah, I see. Not really. One thousand three hundred and seventy-two of my children were with my ex. And I love every last one, even down to little…” I was about to say my son’s name, but I stopped myself.
“We can call him little Bill for my ears,” Twink said, realizing I was trying to spare him the pain.
I grinned. “I loved little Bill, and all my other precious ones.”
“But since you are on another planet, does that mean you don’t get to see them?”
“The children of my ex’s species typically eat their fathers, so while I loved them, they were not really fond of me once they developed from their larval stage.
And the two mates I had before this ex, the species weren’t communal by nature, so they left shortly after they were born.
But part of being a Furker means being very attached to your children.
It’s not something I can shake off, no matter how much they don’t care to be a part of my life. ”
This seemed to touch something in him as his gaze wandered. “Sounds painful. I’m sorry.”
Sadness. That’s what he was feeling. A deep sadness.
“Why does that mean so much to you?” I asked, but a familiar discomfort rose up within him. “I’m sorry, I should not have asked. It is hard for me, but it is the nature of existence…to be discontent.”
“Maybe you’re right about that one. It’s nice to hear about your connection to your kids. My dad…he wasn’t there for my mom and me growing up. He would pop up whenever he needed cash, but that was it. He wasn’t a good dad.”