“Would you enjoy it if we did it again?”
“Probably,” she admitted.
“And you enjoy playing with your sister.” It wasn’t really a question, but when Peet nodded he went on, “So why don’t we just call it ‘playing’ and leave it at that?”
“That would probably be the best way,” she said after a long pause. “But…”
“Yes, but,” Peters said. “But what you really want is a real male, of your own species, to romp around the bed with and maybe make you swell up.” He put his hand on her stomach.
Peet smiled a little. “A little lower, actually, but you’re right.” Deep breath. “Except I think it won’t happen. Like I said, I’m not very pretty.”
“Well, if your males are anything like ours, I think you’re putting too much emphasis on that,” he said, and squeezed her shoulders again. “What a male wants is somebody to do that with,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the bed, “and if he thinks you want to do it with him, that’s what’s attractive about a female.” He grinned. “Look at me.”
“I’ve been looking at you,” Peet said, and elbowed him again.
“Oof. I told you not to do that,” Peters admonished. “What I mean is, there aren’t any females of my species available to me. You came along and invited me to play, and I have to tell you, if I introduced you to my friends back home, most of them would run screaming.”
“But I had to drag you.”
Peters smiled fully. “Yes, but I didn’t pull back very hard. The point is, I found you attractive because I thought you found me attractive.” He touched her cheek, a soft caress. “I’ll bet your males are about the same. Pick a few and try it.”
“You mean I might have to try several before I find one with low enough taste?”
“No, I mean practice makes perfect.”
Peet chuckled, the first laugh she’d managed in a little while, and reached around his shoulders to return his hug. After a long pause she said in a different tone, “I’m all over sticky. I need a shower.”
“Me, too,” Peters admitted.
Long pause. Then: “But I really think I’d like to play a little more first. Do you think you’re up to it?”
“Well, maybe.”
Peet laughed out loud. “Yes, I see you are,” she observed, and swung around to lie on the bed again. “In case you weren’t quite sure, it goes right there,” she said, and pointed.
“I had figured that out already,” Peters said.
Neither of them felt any urgency this time; the session was longer, more relaxed, and somehow friendlier, with frequent pauses for one or another type of “play”. Afterwards they held one another quietly for a little while. Finally Peet pushed him away, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and stood up. “Time for that shower,” she said. “I’ll go first, that way I can clean it up a bit for you.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Don’t take too long.”
“I’ll try.” She headed for the shower, hips swinging, and Peters considered that she still looked really good from every aspect but face on, and he was used to that by now. He sat up and looked around. In this kind of situation he’d normally have a pair of skivvies to pull on, but he had no intention of donning the kathir suit in this condition, and it wouldn’t be—he had a hard time framing the concept, but finally came around to “polite.” It wouldn’t be polite to get fully dressed at this point.
Peet wasn’t long in showering, emerging still nude, with wet hair. “Your turn,” she said, and gestured, and Peters picked up the kathir suit and went that way. The facilities were the same as in his own quarters, a little bigger maybe, and there was stuff around that he thought of as “feminine”: pretty bottles of colored goo and knicknacks. He showered quickly, then hesitated a moment before pulling the kathir suit on.
It turned out to be a good choice. Peet was sitting at a desk chair, dressed in her own airsuit; she looked up as he emerged. She was smiling, which he thought was a good sign. “I’ve been thinking,” she said without preamble. “What are you going to tell your friends about the time we spent together?”
“As little as possible,” Peters told her cheerfully. “It’s none of their business.”
“What about your special friend, Todde isn’t it? Will you tell him more?”
“Probably.” He thought a moment. “But it still won’t be much.”
“Good.” She paused, looked him in the face. “And what will you say to me, if we meet again?”
“I’ll say, ‘Hello, Peet.’” He smiled. “And if you smile at me, I’ll probably say, ‘Would you like to play?’”
She thought about that. “And if I say no?”
“It’s your choice, Peet.” He touched her cheek. “If I ask, it’s because I want to, but it’s always your choice.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. A pause, and she shook her head. “Do you know how to get back to your living quarters from here?” she asked in a fairly businesslike tone.
“Yes, that’s no problem,” Peters told her. “We’ve been exploring a lot. I know my way around pretty well.”
“That’s good.” Peet stood, took his arm, and began walking slowly toward the door. “Thank you, Peters,” she said softly.
“And that’s one more thing,” Peters told her as he worked the latch. “I think we’re good friends by now, at least I hope so, and that means you should call me John.” He kissed her, on the cheek rather than the lips, just a peck. “Goodbye for now, Peet.”
“Goodbye for now, John,” she said. Then she smiled and closed the door.
Peters shook his head. Apparently the Grallt practice of brief goodbyes held here, too.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Zenth was visible out the aft door. “It don’t look a whole lot different,” Peters observed.
“Different from what?”
“Different from home. Earth,” Peters explained. “Or Keelisika, either. Just sort of blue and white.”
Todd considered. “I hadn’t thought about it,” he admitted. “But, well, water’s blue and clouds are white, right? I don’t think that’s gonna change between different planets.”
Two dli were pulled up where their entrances were convenient to the EM quarters hatch, and the freight hauler sat between them and another convenient for the officers. A chain of sailors was passing seabags down the line toward the freight ship, Mannix and another First Class checking name tags as the bags were presented.
Peters and Todd took seats in the aft section and sat while the others filed aboard. Gell pushed his way forward, leading the contingent of Chiefs toward the VIP section, and shortly after that the hatch swung shut and seated itself with a muted thud. Then the view out the ports began gyrating, the dli shot out the bow of Llapaaloapalla and into space, and the sailors settled in for the ride, some sitting quietly, others pointing out the ports and commenting.
Several of the more intrepid ones got up and went up and down the aisle, chatting with friends and generally skylarking. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Todd remarked, watching as Everett stood over one of his cronies, laughing about something and slapping the other on the back of the head.
“Let it be,” Peters advised. “We ain’t in charge of this evolution.”
Shortly after that they felt the odd sensation they’d noticed when Gell was letting them operate the controls. Probably Gell was letting one of the sailors drive; the dli accelerated in odd directions, and the sensations drove the skylarkers back to their seats in a general clicking of seat belts.
Atmosphere duly arrived in a roar of orange and yellow flame. “Nice ride,” somebody commented appreciatively when that was over and they were plunging toward a brightly sunlit cloud bank. The rest murmured agreement. There was a sky now rather than stars, dark blue, lightening as they descended. Next was broken clouds, first gray mist, then sunlit blue in flashes. Below that layer the dli stabilized at relatively low altitude, flying over a high-summer sea with puffy cumulus clouds overhead.