AllFreeNovel
Share Us
* * * *
“You’re impressed by her?” Sherv asked Jemi as they helped Rusp pack his drums in their protective cases.
“She’s incredible.” Jemi’s tone held awe half an hour following Irene’s departure. Their normally gabby Imdiko clanmate was bubbling conversation now that he was no longer held hostage by his lack of English. Sherv thought encountering a young, beautiful woman had rendered him tongue-tied in her presence as well.
An inability to chatter no longer infected him. “I’d heard they looked similar to us, but she could almost pass as Kalquorian. Aren’t they supposed to be short? Her eyes were unique. I’d heard they were shaped funny, like blobs? Earthers, not their eyes.”
“My father says their ground forces are strong, the way we are. They have to work hard to reach what we have naturally, though. They take supplements to help.” Rusp clicked a case closed and reached for another.
“He’d know.” Rusp’s Nobek father was a high commander for the ground forces. Familiarity with potential enemies’ strengths and weaknesses was the elder man’s forte.
Rusp closed the case on its carefully nestled treasure and grabbed another drum. He used over twenty assorted drums during a show, but Sherv was certain he could have packed them with his eyes closed. He knew their perfect configuration, the tones they were capable of producing, the feel of them. Hell, he probably knew how they tasted.
“Her hair was lighter than ours. Skin too. Her eyes weren’t really weird, just different. As dark as her hair. Do you think Earthers sing the way our women do? Or maybe Plasians. What is opera, anyway? A style, like lemanthev?” Jemi had paused in packing only his second drum, as if venting so many queries kept him from doing two things at once.
“I have no answers for you, my Imdiko. I lost track of your questions after the first hundred.” Sherv chuckled affectionately as he put away his fifth drum.
“You told her we’d see her show.” Rusp held up his hand to forestall Sherv from replying. His gaze riveted on their three-man crew, who’d come onstage after stowing all the gear except the band’s instruments. Nobeks Taru, Anez, and Lorj grinned at them. They were trusted friends, but they’d go drinking once everything was packed up. Sherv had warned Rusp and Jemi it would be best if they were unaware of the encounter with Irene.
She’d hoped to keep her foray into the club quiet. Now that he recalled their initial encounter, hadn’t she asked Rusp if he was trying to get her killed by exposing her? No, he must have misheard that part. He’d ask his Nobek later what she’d said.
At any rate, he was willing to keep her presence during their set secret. Taru, Anez, and Lorj could usually handle their liquor, but stupid shit occasionally happened. Sherv thought of the time a thoroughly inebriated Anez had tried to set the band’s ship down on an asteroid barely as big as the craft on a dare from an equally smashed Lorj.
The life of a group endlessly touring the galaxy’s planets, moons, and stations was rarely boring. Sherv grinned to himself as the terrible trio who made up their stage crew collected half the packed drums and set off for the ship. It was a pain in the ass to set up and tear down every night when they were playing the same club for two weeks, but the venue wouldn’t guarantee their gear wouldn’t be broken or stolen. What money the group had was invested in their rig, instruments, and the ship that doubled as their home.
Rusp picked up the conversation where they’d left off, packing the final case. “You said we’d check out her show?”
“Sure. I’m curious, aren’t you?”
“Let’s see…gorgeous mystery woman, not afraid to slap Nobeks silly, fellow musician…nah, who wants to watch that?” Jemi pulled a face and ducked Sherv’s playful swing.
* * * *
Irene studied her computer while sipping a cup of warm water in the sitting room of her quarters. She curled on the massive couch, staring at the holograph monitor floating over the rectangular device on her lap. The furniture was decadently oversized, due to it having been constructed for Kalquorians. Irene was amused she’d been enjoying the luxury of plenty of space to spread out thanks to a species she’d only met an hour before.
She’d done the bare minimum to make it her own during her stay. The opera company’s contract for the space station was for a year, and Irene had seen no sense in adding to the sparse but lovely decorations. Why should she? It was essentially an extended stay in a hotel room. She’d gone no further than to display a couple of vid projectors, on which stills of her with her parents were set.
After glancing at the stills, her smile sad, Irene had settled herself to do some research. The excitement of the evening’s events was finally wearing off. She was tired, but she was intent on her exploration via the Galactic Council’s public information access.
She’d returned to her quarters without any further drama, thank the prophets. A message had been left by Meg, telling her Donald had checked in with them once the Kalquorian captain and his companions had left the theater. “Don’t worry. Mom told him you’d slipped off with us, and you’d gone to bed. As far as we can tell, he didn’t try to reach you.”
Darling Meg and Mrs. Hoffman, such angels. Well, not where Earth was concerned, if the Church or security had discovered their many clandestine affairs. To Irene, the pair were nothing less than saintly to cover for her exploratory jaunts. She was honestly impressed they’d run for the hills rather than remain to ogle the Kalquorians, but Fausto had brought too much attention to Meg in the company of security and Church-appointed chaperones.
Clan Sherv had fascinated Irene, unlike Captain Nil and his cohorts. She chuckled to herself. Of course fellow musicians would catch her interest.
Their lack of decent clothing was interesting too.
Irene pushed aside the thought and the image of gleaming muscles with difficulty. She continued her research on Kalquorian culture and their music. Now that she’d encountered members of the race and heard a little of their music, she wanted to learn everything.
She’d paid little attention to Kalquorians before, partly from self-preservation. Undue interest in a people Earth had deemed demonic was almost as dangerous as actually being in their company. She’d also been too wrapped up in her own life to bother. Rehearsing shows, staying healthy in voice and body, and vying for what leads she could wrest from Valentina kept her busy. The dire warnings from Earth about Kalquorians had been mere background noise.
What she was learning fascinated her. Kalquorian women were a rarity, having nearly been eradicated by some ancient virus. The few who were left were often infertile. It was rumored Kalquorians teetered on the brink of extinction, but their empire refused to confirm it.
There was such a lack of females, referred to asMataras, or lifebringers, the race had found it necessary to eschew monogamy. There were three breeds of men, and a member of each was represented in clans, the Kalquorian version of marriage. The Dramoks were the clan leaders. Imdikos were caregivers, and Nobeks were the protectors.
Matara, Dramok, Imdiko, Nobek. One woman mated to three men. It was Kalquorian law; only a clan of all three male breeds could legally enter into a recognized committed relationship with a woman.
One woman. Three men. Irene imagined Sherv, Rusp, and Jemi standing in front of her and shivered.
