Rosemary poured the wine. They sat on the floor, falling into an easy chat about nothing of importance. It wasn’t until they were each working on their second cup that Rosemary said: “May I ask you a personal question?”
Sissix laughed. “I will never understand why you people ask that.”
Rosemary ran her finger around the rim of her cup, looking a little embarrassed. Sissix thought perhaps she should have refrained from the comment about the personal question question, but honestly. Humans wasted so much time by being redundant.
The Human woman cleared her throat. “I found out that we’re—the crew, that is—is your feather family.”
Had she not told Rosemary that? Maybe not. It wasn’t the sort of thing that came up often. “Ashby told you?”
“No, he implied. I figured out the rest myself.” She took a sip of wine. “I know there are a lot of complicated rules for feather families, and I don’t pretend to know any of them, but I was wondering how you… how you categorize crew members that you didn’t choose for yourself. I mean, the people who are only here because it’s their job.”
“You mean Corbin? Yeah, that’s complicated. But in feather families, getting stuck with a member you don’t like happens all the time. You just recognize that somebody else in your family needs them and you stay out of their way. It’s like Ashby and Corbin. Ashby needs Corbin. Doesn’t matter to me that he needs him in a business sense, rather than a family sense. Ashby is my family, without a shadow of a doubt. Therefore, Corbin falls within my feather family.” She grinned over the edge of her cup. “Though I certainly wouldn’t object if he found a new family elsewhere.”
Rosemary nodded. “Makes sense. Though I wasn’t asking about Corbin.”
“Oh?”
Rosemary was quiet. Sissix had watched Human faces for long enough to know that Rosemary was either searching for the right words, or for the courage to say them. Sissix was silently grateful for how much time was saved by hand speak. At last, Rosemary spoke. “I was asking about me.”
The irritation Sissix had been nursing toward Rosemary’s entire species weakened. She smiled and took Rosemary’s hand. “If it were my call, I’d take you in again. You should know by now that I like having you in my family.”
Rosemary squeezed her fingers. She smiled, but there was something else there, too—fear, perhaps? What could she possibly be afraid of? Rosemary withdrew her hand and topped up their cups, giving the last few drops to Sissix. “After seeing you with your family, your hatch family, I mean—well, I wondered if maybe it isn’t enough for you here. We must make life awfully hard.”
“Being away from Aandrisks can be hard. And I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t feeling kicked in the guts right now. But I’m here by choice. I love this ship. I love our crew. I have a good life. I wouldn’t change it.”
Rosemary’s eyes swung up, looking through her dark lashes. There was a different look in them now, something strong, grounded. “But no one touches you.”
Sissix almost choked on her wine as she realized what was going on. All this time with Humans, and still there were things that didn’t occur to her until after the fact. The details rushed at her at once. The look in Rosemary’s eyes. The wine. The shy pauses that shifted into a low-voiced directness. Her clothes—oh, stars, Rosemary had changed her clothes since they’d got back to the ship. Humans read meanings into different kinds of clothes, but it was a complicated business, and Sissix had never got the hang of it. Rosemary was wearing a pair of soft, flowing pants and a pale yellow top held up by a criss-cross of strings—casual, Sissix thought, but festive, the sort of thing one of Kizzy’s friends might wear to a party on a hot summer night. The top of the shirt dipped down below Rosemary’s usual collar line, showing the upper curves of her breasts. And her hair. She’d done… something to it. Sissix couldn’t say what, exactly, but effort had been made there. And with having had time for her nose to parse Rosemary’s intricacies, she knew now that the change in her scent had nothing do with wine, or soap, or clean clothes. It wasn’t anything from an external source. It was hormones.
Sissix had seen Human vids. She’d seen how Kizzy fussed over herself before going out to dock bars. She’d seen Ashby staring at himself in reflective surfaces before he met Pei, absently nudging at his hair or trimming the scruff on his face. Rosemary had come to her quarters in pretty clothes, with wine and kind words and hair that had had something done to it. This was a Human’s elaborate way of asking something that an Aandrisk could ask with nothing more than a slight flick of her fingers.
Rosemary continued to speak. “Sissix, I don’t have any feathers I can give you. I wish I did. You made me feel welcome when I first set foot on this ship. And since then, the kindness you’ve shown—not just to me, but to everyone—has meant more than I can say. You go out of your way to make everybody aboard this ship comfortable, to show us affection in the way that we expect it. I don’t pretend to know Aandrisks as well as you know Humans, but there are some things I understand. I understand that we’re your family, and that for you, not being able to touch us means there’s a vital piece missing. I think that feeling hurts you, and I think you’ve buried it deep. I saw the look on your face when your family held you. You may love the Wayfarer, but life here is incomplete.” She pressed her lips together. They came back wet. “I don’t know how you see me, but—but I want you to know that if you should want something more… I’d like to give it to you.”
Sissix cupped her palm, flipped it, and spread her claws, even though she knew Rosemary would not understand the gesture. Tresha. It was the thankful, humble, vulnerable feeling that came after someone saw a truth in you, something they had discovered just by watching, something that you did not admit often to yourself. If Rosemary had been an Aandrisk, Sissix would’ve knocked the cups aside and started coupling right then and there, but she remained cautious. Apparently the part of her that understood Humans was still at the helm.
“Rosemary,” Sissix said, taking her hand. She was so warm. Other species always were, she could feel it just standing by them, but it was all the more present now. She had sometimes wondered what it would be like to have that warmth pressing against—no, no, she was not thinking about that. Not yet. She had to be smart. She had to be careful. After all, Humans reacted differently to coupling than she did. Didn’t their brains get overloaded with chemicals afterward, way more than normal people? Aandrisks bonded through coupling, too, but Humans—Humans could get crazy over it. How else could you explain a sapient species that had overpopulated itself to the point of environmental collapse? This was a people that had coupled themselves stupid.
“I’m… I’m grateful,” Sissix said at last. What a horrible, hollow way to describe how she was feeling. Tresha. That was the right explanation, but there was no word for it in Klip. Useless language. Rosemary’s face fell slightly, as if she had been expecting Sissix to knock aside the cups. Dammit, why hadn’t this been covered in interspecies sensitivity courses? “Are you…” Think, Sissix, think. “Are you saying me this because you feel sorry for me, or is it… something you want?” Ugh. Klip was always too practical or too emotional. Never a middle ground. Useless, useless language.
Rosemary took a sip of wine and contemplated her cup. “Well, I am attracted to you. You’re a wonderful person, and a very good friend. I’m not sure when I started feeling more than that for you. Which isn’t a problem, by the way, if your answer is no. I do like being your friend, and I’ll be happy if that’s all we are.” She took another sip. “But, to be honest, I probably wouldn’t have said anything about it if I hadn’t seen your hatch family. My own feelings aside, you need something like that, and not just when you happen upon other Aandrisks.” Her eyes swung back up again, dark and honest. “If not from me, then from someone. You deserve it.”