Chapter 1

Unable to stand it one more second, I muted everyone on the shared call with the surface and smiled. "If I may? My name is Ghosha Progoni Rijal. You have my permission to call me Ghosha, but you can also maintain formality and use my title and family name to call me Administrator Rijal." I stopped smiling and said firmly, "I am not ‘the tiger.'"

I gave the American politicians a moment to mull that over, only for three of them to immediately try to talk again. I sighed. Oh, how I wished I had been better prepared for the prudishness of Earth humans. Those on Nor had said to expect some pushback, but they had also said things might have changed in the decades since they'd been gone from their home world.

I could confirm now that nothing had improved.

I unmuted everyone just in time to hear one of the humans call me a "fucking rude-ass beast" before she cut herself off with a gasp.

"And if I might also remind you," I said pleasantly, "this session is being recorded for public consumption this afternoon."

That, I had discovered, seemed to be the only way to keep polite the people I was forced to deal with on the topic of human sex workers. I was now releasing every single session I had on the website so that every human everywhere could see how their leaders were handling the negotiations. The media coverage was thorough and global, though the reactions were mixed.

If that didn't make these people act professionally, I was going to make the sessions live. Maybe invite the press to ask questions during the sessions, too.

"Now, if we might return to the topic at hand," I said as I laced my fingers and tried to smile. "You are unhappy with Americans volunteering for sex work?"

A month or so ago, the delegation launched their website in order to control their message. One part of that had been explaining the basics, like the proper word to use for my people—I was a Khess—while other parts of the site had delved into deeper topics like the capabilities of nanobots and sex work as a respected career.

My focus was on asking for humans to volunteer to work in the brothels on Nor. There were only twenty-two humans who worked in the brothels now, and several of them were interested in retirement. Since many Norlons enjoyed sex with humans—and vice versa—the brothels had petitioned for an administrator amongst the delegation to take up their cause. The website, therefore, had a form detailing the expectations of sex workers on Nor, the benefits, and the requirements.

We received over one hundred thousand applications in the first week.

And then the politicians began to protest.

Regardless of which country it was, their leaders had a long list of reasons why "their people" could absolutely not participate. While I could respect their traditions, religious requirements, or whatever else they mentioned, the fact that someone had cast off those things voluntarily in order to signup had to count for something as well. It had to mean more, didn't it? Norlons believed wholeheartedly in free will, but I had never considered that others would not.

"I've looked at this form," said a rotund man with a perpetual scowl. "It starts off with descriptions of sex acts and links to detailed drawings of your peoples' anatomy."

I gave him a moment to continue, but he didn't. "Yes, that's correct."

"So you admit it?"

"We felt it was necessary to explain the expectations of brothel patrons as well as their possible anatomy to anyone interested in completing the form."

The beast-comment woman leaned close to her camera. "Children are able to see that!"

"Perhaps," I said while resisting a shrug, "but we made certain to comply with local laws regarding access to those pages." I checked my notes. "They are only available after one enters their personal information, including their birth year, to place them at the age of consent."

"Local laws?" the woman sneered. "Local to where? Skid Row? The moon?"

The other two angry humans snickered with her.

"I believe by local," Alexandra Ocampo-Cruz said, "Administrator Rijal meant American laws. Confirming a viewer's age is what we require of the porn industry. Well, it's actually more than we require because they ask for?—"

"Exactly!" the round man hollered. "Of all the things these aliens could've brought us and we get pornography."

I dragged my claws across the top of my head, grasping for calm. The humans had received medical technology that was making people weep with joy and relief the world over. They would soon have access to transportation technology that would allow them to travel outside of their own solar system. And were they satisfied? No, they needed to focus on anatomical drawings. Even among a people who embraced open and available discussions of sex and sexuality, Norlons still did what we could to keep too much information from those too young to fully understand it. Those anatomy drawings were the same ones available to cubs of appropriate ages in their schoolbooks.

I let the humans talk to each other for a few moments more, heartened by the fact that the majority were defending the methods used to inform the volunteers. I knew that not all of them agreed with sex work, but they had the sense not to condemn those who saw nothing wrong with it. I could imagine there might be Norlons who disagreed with sex work in some way, but it was not a belief and they certainly didn't force it on anyone else.

"If I might share my own experiences," I said and ignored the lips that curled in disgust. "My mother paid for my first encounter when I was of age, and he was as instructive and gentle as anyone could want for their overeager and impatient son."

"He?" the man practically screeched. "Are you a homosexual tiger?"

Goddess, give me strength. I bit back what I wanted to say and tried something else instead. "I am neither a tiger nor a homosexual. As I've said before, my people are Khess, and if I had to label my sexuality, I would use pansexual as I care not about the gender of my sexual partners."

One of the more reasonable men among them cleared his throat and said, "I think the point Administrator Rijal is making is that in Norlish culture such an event is normal and acceptable." He chuckled. "I'm pretty sure my first sexual partner would've appreciated it if I'd known more than I did."

"Gentle and instructive is wonderful," another woman added.

"Look," snapped a very polished man with a greasy smile. Everyone startled into silence at his volume, which I assumed had been his goal. "I'm not saying no American can participate. What I'm saying is that there's already a subsection of people who prostitute themselves. Why not just give them to the aliens?"

I stared in disbelief. I knew sex work happened in America, but also that it was deemed illegal and often done by those who felt they had no other method of earning money. Because it was unregulated, there was no dedicated medical care or even basic protections available to the workers. Disease, assault, and even murder were common. Drug abuse seemed to coincide as well. To suggest that we simply "take" those people?—

Alexandra gasped in outrage. "Are you seriously suggesting that they take away the prostitutes? A section of the population that hasn't had a choice in the work they do? Why not give them the drug addicts, too?" she snapped.

"That's actually a good idea," the man said. "They're probably used to selling themselves for their next fix. It would help clean up a lot of neighborhoods for the good, Christian citizens of Indiana."

I nearly cut the connection, sharing the horror that several faces were conveying, but some small part of me that was meant to be a professional stopped me. After a deep breath, I said, "While we would happily assist those who feel they have no choices with finding another sort of work or other methods of improving their situations, we are actually seeking humans who are truly interested in providing and receiving pleasure with paying clients as a career."

"A career?" the woman scoffed.

Alexandra said, "In several other countries sex work is deemed a profession where the workers receive medical care and?—"

"Other countries being the key phrase there, girlie."

"Don't you dare diminish my?—"

"This is ridiculous! We're debating the wrong thing here?—"

"Let's put this to a vote. All in favor of removing the undesirables from our states, say aye."

I saw red and muted them all again. As clearly as I could say it while my jaw was clenched, I said, "Thank you for your input regarding these matters, but we will proceed with selecting and interviewing the volunteers from the two million that we already have."

I ended the call and slumped back in my chair with a long sigh. The silence was a blessed relief, but it didn't last long, and I really should've known that it wouldn't.

"Should I book you in for a meeting with Prince Ye Lena to make your case for ignoring the leaders of this world and just doing whatever you want?"

I snorted and rubbed at my eyes, not bothering to look over at my assistant. Layleen, a gray and long-eared Pip, was a former brothel worker who'd happily left the business when she'd found her mate amongst her clients. She was currently pregnant with triplets and that hormonal situation had definitely impacted how freely she spoke to me.

"Yes, please," I said with a grin. "Let our illustrious leader know the many ways in which I've fucked this up and see if he has time to guide me through repairing everything. If you wouldn't mind."

"Absolutely, sir." She popped up from her chair and there was a definite hop in her step as she left the room.

I stayed where I was and sighed again. I should've become a bread maker like my father and left brothels and politics to some other fool.

My grandmother was probably cackling in the Great Beyond over how I was handling things. She'd been the one to leave me her brothel and instill her standards of stewardship in me. I saw myself as the leader of a people and took care of them in the best way I knew how. Bringing in new workers to fill a client need had seemed like the logical next step, so of course I'd answered the call to join the delegation to Earth.

"Idiot," I muttered to myself even as I approved the computer's request to upload the session. Yes, I was going to cause a few issues with this, but that wasn't new. Maybe if the delegation had come here asking for oranges instead of sex workers as the one thing they would like in return for their help, I would be seen as a hero.

Now that I knew what a devil was, I felt as though that title fit me much better anyway.