One
BRIELLE
The holographic document floated in front of me, its edges flickering with a soft light. It looked like a scroll from some old fantasy film, parchment rolled tight with faux burnt edges, a prime example of the idea that advanced technology would look like magic to a primitive species if the provider of that technology wanted it to come across that way. Why a giant spider would decide to make a contract to mate look like an ancient scroll was beyond me.
"Miss Armand, if you need more time to think about it, you are welcome to review the contract in your quarters until you have made your decision," the giant brown and green spider across the table from me said. Technically, she wasn't actually a spider. She might look like an arachnid with eight legs, six on the floor and two that were used more frequently as arms to fit with her centaur-like body, but genetically she wasn't in any Earth-based genus, family, or kingdom. Her species, the Chyrrith, were allies with the more cat-like Norratar that had claimed Earth as part of their territory.
I didn't blame her for prodding me. We had been in this room for several hours now, as far as I could tell. The alien spider sat perfectly still, all eight limbs folded in neat precision, waiting as I worked through the holographic document line by line.
The contract was... extensive.
"I can… think about this?" I asked, lightly touching the spot behind my ear where they had implanted the translator. It was still a little sore. I hadn't jumped at the idea of having alien tech implanted in my body, but it wasn't like I'd had much of a choice. I was here because of my dad. I'd signed up for the Norratar's mate-matching program on Earth, but I thought I hadn't matched with anyone.
Then one day my dead-beat dad who had been crashing on my couch hustled me on to this shuttle and now I was here, reading a contract which made it clear that the money I’d gotten to come to the moon and read the contract was mine and not dependent on me actually agreeing to mate.
Except I hadn’t gotten any money.
That wasn't the only problem, this wasn't how the matching program usually worked. I hadn't heard of anyone being flown out to the moon except for a special honeymoon retreat, or to visit the massive film studio that operated there.
I couldn’t deny the thrill of it. I was on the moon, after all. Even if this section of the complex was separated from the main studio, it still felt unreal. The sterile air tasted faintly metallic, and the gravity pressed just a little bit lighter, even though they had compensators so that I didn’t have to bound around like a drunk rabbit. Across the table, the alien spider waited. I stared back, trying to decide if I wanted to contractually agree to bang an alien and run away from Earth with him on his spaceship.
"You can take all the time you need to decide if this is right for you," the Chyrrith said. She had introduced herself, thankfully giving her pronouns as well, because I had no ideahow to tell just looking at her, but I hadn't remembered her name because I was too busy processing my freeze response to suddenly being in a room with someone who looked like they might eat me, no matter how humanoid their upper body was.
"What happens if I decide no?" I asked.
"You will still be bound by the non-disclosure agreement you signed with the introduction packet," the Chyrrith said. "And you will be taken back to Earth without having met your mate."
That was both a relief and a concern. A relief, because no one here was forcing me into anything, no matter what nonsense my junkie dad was trying to pull. They weren’t pushing, no fake urgency or “decide now” that usually came with bad deals. They’d let me sit with it, reread every clause under the steady light of that sterile room. That was the good part. The bad part was I wouldn’t be allowed to meet him, my mate, unless I signed.
To protect my consent.
The implication of that sent a shiver down my spine that wasn’t all together bad.
"I don't understand why my match doesn't just come to Earth like the rest of them," I said. Aliens were wandering all over Earth now after our new alien overlords, the Norratar, opened the planet up to limited visitation from friendly species. “Unless Chyrriths aren’t allowed on the planet?”
"He isn't a Chyrrith," the Chyrrith made a clucking sound that I was associating with a chuckle, though I wasn’t sure, and for a moment I felt relief, then guilt at my relief. I never considered myself xenophobic before, but I was not mentally prepared to get with someone with so many limbs. I had signed up for the program initially, knowing that giant snake men were an option. I mean, I could consider one of the Chyrrith given time and proper courting to get over my initial discomfort, but the contract before me made it clear that a slow courting wasn't on the menu.
I signed up for it, but somehow I’d missed something important.
"His species, the Eldryx,” the Chyrrith continued. “Can't be accommodated by Earth just yet. He won't fit into any of the buildings. There is also an issue that Earth has a history of hunting down creatures that are described similarly to his species, so his species isn't on the allowed list yet."
"Okay, but why do I have to sign this..." I searched for the right words to describe the document they wanted me to sign, but couldn't find any other polite way to say it, so I just came out with it. "BDSM contract to see him? Why can't we just have coffee or something first?"
"Section five, clause c of this contract details that," the Chyrrith said, moving her hand slightly on the table top. The text on the hovering page scrolled to the section she mentioned. I thought I had read it already, but the contract was long, and I must have skimmed that part. I leaned forward and reread it, focusing line by line to make sure I understood it.
"He is going to ape shit when he smells me," I said.
"He is not an ape, nor will he put any of his excrement on you," the Chyrrith said, her tone remaining even, a consummate professional. "That is clearly spelled out in section fifteen, clause d. Neither urine nor excrement will be involved in the mating. You are also welcome to provide your own boundaries to what you will or will not accept, but they cannot counteract sections six through twenty."
Sections six through twenty dealt with the initial meeting, not with what came after his instincts calmed down.
"So I can insist on a coffee date after the initial... bonding... period?" I asked. It wasn't going to be bonding in terms of cuddling on a picnic blanket or taking a pottery class together. Bonding was my attempt to avoid saying what the contractspelled out in extreme detail. The bonding was going to be raw, unprotected, and intense. He was going to breed me.
My lower stomach fluttered at the thought and I shifted in my seat.
"Yes," the Chyrrith said. "Once your mate has returned to his senses, you can list whatever requirements you have. Please list any you have for me now, and I will add them."
"Ok," I said, leaning back in my chair, feeling way more comfortable than I had before. It wasn't physical discomfort. The room was at a great temperature and had an epic view of Earth from one wall, which distracted me multiple times while I read the contract. Drinks and snacks had been provided, and the Chyrrith had stayed there with me the entire time as I reviewed the contract. She had said she needed to witness me signing it, along with the video proof of me signing it. They were being through.
