Chapter Four
Jeannie rubbed the fluffy material over her body to dry. Her mind swirled over the latest surprise the Risnarish man had given her.
Okay, so she’d surmised he might be able to grow his man parts at will. It had never occurred to her he might produce other appendages. Like a tail.
Why am I so shocked? I watched him sprout extra fingers and thumbs, including on his feet. Why shouldn’t he grow a tail if he wants?
Could he make himself extra arms? Legs? Other stuff? Multiple other stuff?
Jeannie frowned as her nipples hardened. She redirected her thoughts to how uncomfortable it had been for Kren to examine her as if she were a curious animal specimen. That had been downright humiliating, as well as similar to what the Grays had done to her. How much worse would it be if he looked at her like a human male looked at a woman?
Sex with an alien? No way she’d want that, not even if he had a talented tail. Especially if he had a tail.
She wrapped the towel around herself. It hung below her knees. She relaxed to finally have some kind of covering over her body. She wanted some actual clothes, though, especially with Kren looking at her. Maybe the Risnarish, with their retractable body parts, didn’t need apparel, but Jeannie did. She’d had enough of her stint as a nudist.
She tried to remember what Kren had said earlier to make the holographic drawing pad appear. The first part had sounded similar to a clucking chicken. The second part she couldn’t exactly remember. She tried anyway.
“Bock nose,” Jeannie said, trying to slur her voice as the Risnarish did. As she’d expected, nothing happened.
Kren looked at her quizzically. She made drawing motions in the air and he chuckled.
“Boknoz?” he questioned.
The floating screen appeared between them. Jeannie smiled at her pathetic attempt to speak his language. He pantomimed a pushing motion at the apparition, and it slid through the air toward her. When it was about a foot away, Jeannie put up her hand, instinctively warding it off though it would slide right through her.
It stopped and she was delighted to discover she had some control over it. Now she’d be able to call it up and move it where she wanted at will.
Jeannie thought for a moment. How did she explain clothing to a man who required none? After considering, she drew one of her crude stick figures.
Kren had finished drying himself and watched with interest. Jeannie pointed to the figure and said, “Jeannie,” then pointed to herself to be sure he got the message. He nodded.
She drew an approximation of a dress on the figure, shading it with her fingertip so that it covered the stick body. Hoping it would make some sense to her companion, she rubbed her hand over the soft towel encasing her body.
She told Kren, “Clothes. Or at least material to fabricate clothes.” She pointed again at the stick figure’s dress. “I can’t keep running around naked, especially outside. It’s cold out there at night.”
Kren came close to puzzle over the drawing. He glanced from it to her. He pointed to the towel—careful not to touch her, she noted—and repeated, “Clothes.”
Jeannie shook her head. She pointed to the towel. “Towel.” She pointed to the drawing. “Clothes.” She rubbed her hands over her bare arms, hoping he would get it. He stared at her, still confused.
Jeannie sighed and gazed at the screen again. Then she scanned the room. She needed a tool that would draw fine lines.
There was something made of metal on one of the shelves. It resembled a hair pick, with the handle coming to a point. Maybe she’d be able to draw with it.
Jeannie picked it up and approached the screen again. She was pleased when her first few strokes rendered not-so-clumsy lines on the drawing surface. She quickly sketched a representation of herself wearing a sheath dress, her favorite garment. It wasn’t up to her usual talent for drawing a clothing design, but it was better than the stick figures by far.
Jeannie noted Kren’s mouth dropping open in surprise. He even acted impressed, though his artwork had been far better than hers. He probably hadn’t gone to design school either. Fashion would not be high on the Risnarish list of priorities, she thought with amusement.
She pointed to the sheath. “Clothes. Give me material and I can make them,” she said, tugging gently at her towel and then making cutting motions over it.
Kren frowned and seemed to think the matter over. He tossed his damp towel into a nearby bin and motioned for Jeannie to follow him.
They left the closed-off lavatory, entering the wider space of the dome. Kren led her to the large cubicle that held the platform with its cushioned top. Probably his bed. Her eyes narrowed, but Kren ignored the platform and considered a stack of cubbies alongside the wall. He pulled out a swath of cornflower blue fabric that was the right size for the bed. A sheet, she surmised.
Carrying the fabric over to the kitchen, he searched through cabinets until he came up with what looked like a television remote control and a rolled-up strip of clear packing tape. He laid out the sheet on the countertop.
Motioning Jeannie closer, Kren showed her the black remote. It had only two buttons with odd symbols etched on them. One end, which he pointed at the fabric, had a small hole in the middle.
Kren pushed the uppermost button. A red light streamed from the hole, burning into the sheet. It was a laser, Jeannie realized. Kren cut a thin strip from the edge of the sheet, demonstrating its use.
He switched it off with the second button. Jeannie picked up the strip he’d cut, checking the countertop. She’d expected to see a cut in the hard, white surface. There was no hint of damage, not even when she rubbed her fingers over the area.
“Nice. Faster than scissors too,” she told Kren. The edge where he’d cut was clean, with no threads coming loose from the fabric. It was as if the material was fused as well as cut.
He showed her the roll of clear tape next. He peeled it loose from the next layer of the roll. Once he’d torn off a tiny piece, he stuck it to one end of the thin strip of material he’d cut away. Then he pressed the opposite end to the exposed part of the tape. The two ends stuck, even when Kren strained to pull them apart. Jeannie didn’t know if she was more impressed with the strength of the sheet and the tape or the muscles that popped out on Kren’s arms when he tried to tear the fused length.
Jeannie nodded to show she understood. She looked forward to working with the items Kren had found for her, particularly since the sheet was soft as well as sturdy.
“Boknoz,” she said, feeling as if she’d accomplished a great feat when the drawing screen appeared before her. After a few miscommunications, she got Kren to show her how to enlarge the screen, which only required putting her fingers at its edges and widening the reach of her arms.
“I could get used to this kind of technology,” she told the curious Risnarish male. He blinked in response and shrugged with a smile. Then he handed her a thin rod with a pointy end.
Jeannie used it to draw a pattern for the dress she wanted to make. This, she was good at. After years of custom designing clothing and using herself as the model, she knew the measurements she needed. She had the simple design done within half an hour.
As she’d hoped, she was able to have the hologram lie on the fabric stretched along the counter. Using the laser box, she cut the pieces she needed. It went quickly once she got used to the cutter.
The fusing tape was harder to handle. It tended to stick in the wrong places, and Jeannie kept having to cut wrinkles and hanging edges away. However, less than two hours after she started, she had a finished dress.
Smiling in triumph, she held it up to show Kren. “Mission accomplished!” she said with glee.
* * *
Kren was impressed with Jeannie’s handiwork. It was obvious she’d fashioned similar pieces of what she called clothes before. The alacrity with which she’d put her body covering together had been a wonder to watch.
At first he’d thought he’d handle the cutter for her, but not because he hadn’t believed her capable of using it. His concern had been that she might turn it on him as a weapon. Even his armored skin was susceptible to a low-power laser like the one he used about the house for odd jobs. But if he stayed alert, he could avoid injury and disarm her quickly. Seeing that the thought never occurred to her for a single second had assured him that he’d read Jeannie right. She was not violent. That had to count in her favor with Mekay and the rest of the elders.
Kren had come to another realization as he’d watched her work. Jeannie’s ease in assembling an outer covering for her body told him this was the norm for her kind. Her modesty made all the more sense now. With all that unarmored skin, she needed a defense, though a soft bedsheet offered little in the way of protection.
She slipped behind a partition wall to swap the towel for her clothes piece. Jeannie came out dressed and beaming. She walked back and forth and turned this way and that to show off her accomplishment to Kren. She seemed more at ease than ever before, her smile radiant. The blue of the fabric brought out her amazing eyes. He applauded her new covering, glad it made her happy. Hiding that lovely form was a shame, though.
Not allowed to touch. Not allowed to look. It was too bad. Yet Jeannie’s joy lit her sweet face, and her obvious delight pulled at Kren’s hearts. Clothed or bare, she was astounding.
Jeannie followed up the garment she called a dress with two more items: a blouse and a skirt, contrived of a cream-colored sheet Kren provided. She glowed as she modeled her new pieces for his approval. They were nice, especially how they flattered her slender and yet curving figure.
She was happy. She also seemed much more relaxed. Seeing her that way made Kren resolve to take her to the weaving guild at the first possible opportunity to select better fabrics for her clothes.
Then he remembered he might not have the opportunity to take her to the guild. His stomachs churned when he contemplated bringing her to Mekay the next morning. If the elder decided she was indeed a Monsudan construct, there would be no more clothes for Jeannie.
Jeannie laid out her blouse and skirt on a shelf. She yawned hugely as she did so, as any exhausted Risnarish might. Again Kren was struck by their similarities. Creatures from the other planets he knew of did not yawn. It was thought to be a characteristic belonging only to the beings of Risnar.
Kren reached under his bed and rolled out the guest platform. He pushed it close to the chimney since Jeannie seemed to like hovering near the warmth. He dressed its mattress in his depleted supply of bed linens and demonstrated its use to his guest, miming going to sleep. Jeannie gave him an amused look before getting into the bed. She waved him off, wriggling strangely beneath the top cover. He walked off, wondering what his lovely but bizarre visitor was doing now.
He peeked at her as he climbed onto his own platform. She lay down, her dress draped at the end of the bed. Ah, she had decided to sleep nude. His loins throbbed again, and he turned angrily. Why did the Hyoo-man have to affect him so?
He had an early day tomorrow, yet sleep eluded him as his mind churned over what his meeting with Mekay might bring. Perhaps the elder would not even bother to call together the council. He might order her destroyed right away.
You know better. Mekay always takes his time considering matters from every angle. That quality had driven Kren up the wall in his youth. Mekay had been one of his boyhood guardians, a man Kren had once considered too careful and conscientious. Tomorrow he would be relying on those very qualities to save Jeannie.
Kren listened hard to get a sense of whether or not his guest lay awake. Maybe she also wondered what the next day would bring. His ears cupped in the effort to capture any sound. What he heard was the popping of the fire and deep, even breathing. She sounded asleep.
Before he knew what he was up to, Kren got out of the bed. He padded on silent, supple feet to check on her.
Jeannie lay on her side, facing the fire chute. Her eyes were closed. Her face appeared softer than ever, the muscles relaxed as she gave in to the fatigue she’d shown before going to bed. Her small hand curled beneath her chin and her exposed shoulders glowed in the firelight. She looked ethereal. Innocent. Exquisite.
She had enchanted him, he realized. Something about her begged him to shield her from all harm. To shelter her against the coming trials. She evoked everything he’d ever wanted to be for a woman, even though she was not Risnarish. Perhaps he saw her the way he did because she was not Risnarish. His race’s women were not creatures that invited any man’s doting attention.
I have to save her. Kren swallowed hard. Mekay would see she was of Spirit. He had to. This sweet being could not possibly be a Monsudan construct.
Kren turned and forced himself to get back into his bed. Still sleep would not come, leaving him tossing, his mind a maelstrom of worry. Scenarios raced through his mind: Mekay demanding Kren march Jeannie outside and turn his plasma shooter on her. Kren taking her to the woods instead and setting her loose, bringing her food every night. The Assembly agreeing she had come from the All-Spirit and allowing her to live in the temple complex with the Risnarish females. Kren claiming she’d escaped while keeping her hidden in his home. The visions, both horrific and hopeful, piled on top of each other.
Perhaps two hours had passed before sleep finally began to steal close. His eyelids fluttered. His breath eased. Tension seeped from his body. His eyes closed.
A whimper rose in the quiet. Kren’s eyes flew wide open. He was out of the bed and on his feet before he was conscious that he’d moved.
He looked toward Jeannie. Her body, covered by the sheet he’d found for her, jerked slightly in the firelight. Did she dream as the Risnarish did? Or was she awake?
She cried out, a sound of terrible anguish. Again Kren was not aware he’d moved until he stood beside her platform, looking down on her sleeping face.
Unlike earlier, her expression was drawn in terror. Her hand still lay beneath her chin, the fingers spasming, flinging wide as if to signal something to stop. Her head jerked violently. She acted as if she were avoiding something. Then her mouth opened and she made that awful cry again. It was the sound of a trapped animal, fearful and lost.
“No! No!”
It must only have been a dream, but Kren couldn’t stand to see her so frightened. He started to wake her, but thought better of it. If she came out of the nightmare, she wouldn’t remember him right away. She already looked so terrified.
He got into bed with her, sliding close and scooping her into his arms to hold her. He realized belatedly that if she woke now, it might upset her even more than waking with him standing over her. It was too late to undo his actions, however. He’d already embraced her.
She didn’t wake. Instead Jeannie burrowed her face in the hollow between his chest and shoulder, as if he could shelter her against the demons that pursued her. He petted her silky mane and held her close.
She made a sleepy, contented sound. Her soft body relaxed against his and with a last little sigh, she went limp.
Now that Jeannie had settled, Kren was abruptly aware she was naked. Naked, with her body right up against his. Soft breasts pressed against his skin. Her topmost leg slid between his, tangling their limbs like lovers in the immediate aftermath of mating. The scent of her hair, smelling of her recent shower, filled his nostrils.
Kren drew a shuddering breath. It had been some time since he’d joined with a female, longer than was wise. Between the coming harvest of his crops, the calving of his herd of ecal, and enforcement work, he’d been too busy to visit the women of the temple complex. He regretted it now. A surge of heat between his legs made the skin swell and begin to protrude.
Not now, he told himself. He could not visit the attendants of the temple’s Mating Center at such a late hour. He certainly couldn’t satisfy himself with Jeannie. She’d been clear she wouldn’t mate with him. As it was, she’d unleash those ear-splitting screams of hers if she woke and found him aroused and holding her.
He urged his flesh to calm. He thought about leaving her for his own pallet, but then she shifted and he was able to examine her face. She wore a slight smile, as if dreaming pleasantly. His presence made her feel safe. Perhaps his being there would keep the sleep demons away for the rest of the night.
Even though his groin ached with need, the rest of him was able to relax. He was doing a good thing. He kept her safe, if only from night terrors.
Plus it was wonderful lying there next to her. Even with unsated urges, Kren found the experience incredible in a quiet way. He’d never slept the night through with someone else. It contented him. No, he felt more than mere contentment. He felt blissful. Jeannie was warm and soft and lovely against his body. He floated in the sensation, unaware when sleep slid over him too.