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Sarus bared his teeth in what Evangeline instinctively knew was not a smile. The engineer’s spine stiffened, but he retreated a step and his short crest flattened against his scalp. At the alien’s retreat, the big male covered his teeth. The one who’d identified himself as Horas rumbled with a low purr.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Elodie head for the refreshment table and decided to join her. The males followed a short distance behind. She picked up a plate and leaned toward the other bride and whispered, “Is it just me, or are these guys creepy?”
“They’re certainly single-minded,” Elodie replied as she filled her plate with an assortment of canapes and stuffed mushroom caps. She continued in a low whisper, “Every single one of them wants a wife, is desperate for a wife. I had a little time and read the manual—”
“What manual?”
“There’s a manual on the local culture and a brief history in your room—”
“I haven’t been to my room yet. I came straight from the infirmary to the green room.”
Elodie winced. “Oh, yeah, that. Well, after tonight’s shindig, you’ll get the chance to relax in the room set aside for you. There’s a manual on the nightstand. I suggest you read it.”
“Thanks,” Evangeline replied in an arid tone. “How long have you been here?”
“About a week,” Elodie replied and popped an hors d’oeuvre in her mouth.
Evangeline took a plate and began to fill it.
“I will do that,” Horas said, gently removing the plate from her grasp.
“I’m quite capable,” Evangeline objected.
“It’s a male’s duty and honor to provide for his mate’s every need,” he replied. Pointing to a raw oyster, he asked, “Do you like this?”
“Um, no, thank you,” she replied.
Evangeline reached toward what she hoped was a crab rangoon. Horas gently captured her wrist in his hand to prevent her from selecting her own food. She shot him a glare that he ignored with an expression she could not read. Shoulders and voice tight with the effort to be polite, she said, “A couple of those, please.”
He delicately picked two and set them on the small plate, beginning a slow perambulation along the table while she pointed to the morsels she wanted to try. Seeing the senior warrior take such solicitous care of the female upon whom he’d set his sights, the other males scrambled to do the same for the other brides, except Sarus who refused to abandon his dignity by joining in the jostling. Instead, he plucked a tall, narrow glass filled with a pale, bubbly liquid and observed.
“It’s champagne,” the ambassador said as she sidled up to him. “Decent stuff, but a little thin and fizzy for my taste.”
He glanced over at the refreshments table and observed the females, then looked at the ambassador. “The females don’t seem happy.”
The ambassador’s thin lips pressed together a second before she replied. “Each of them signed a contract.”
“Did they understand what they were signing?”
She blinked at him and went on the offensive: “Are you suggesting human females are mentally deficient?”
He held her gaze and did not blink. “No, I am wondering if the brides received disinformation.”
The ambassador frowned. “That’s a serious accusation to level against the United States government.”
Sarus came close to snorting. The human government hardly qualified as a threat against the Ahn'hudi; however, the Ahn'hudi did desperately need human females. Aggressive acquisition of females would likely send the human governments to ally with Ahn'hudin’s powerful enemies. That he refused to risk, not because he cared so deeply for Earth, but because those enemies would take advantage of these puny humans and decimate their planet as well as their population, which would result in destruction of the very human females his people needed. Those few females not destroyed would be enslaved.
The healer with the blunted claws joined them at the beverage table. He looked at the flutes of champagne and asked, “I am not familiar with this liquid. Is it healthful?”
“It’s harmless in small amounts,” Ambassador Coquillen replied with a polite smile. “Imbibed in excess, it causes inebriation.”
The healer dipped his chin and said, “Ah. Then I shall permit my mate a small amount.”
“I can decide for myself, thank you,” Marisol interjected as she plucked a glass from the table. She sent him a challenging gaze as she took a sip. Marisol wrinkled her nose. “Too sweet.”
Evangeline overheard the conversation and said as she inserted herself between the ambassador and Sarus, “Weareadults, you know, fully grown and mature adults who are quite capable of making our own decisions and taking care of ourselves.”
The healer looked offended by the two women’s assertion of independence and intoned, “Your mates will, no doubt, relieve you of that responsibility. You need not exert yourselves beyond giving your mates pleasure and offspring.”
