22. AHANE

Had he over-reacted?

Probably not.

She was bruised. That bastard had hurt her. And he had sworn no one would hurt her again. He had presumed he’d made his point earlier, but clearly, he had not.

Had he done too much embracing her?

Perhaps not? Her body had felt so… so… something…under his hands. But she had still pushed him away. Weakly and without any conviction, but she had pushed, so he had obeyed.

He scrubbed the pots. If he didn’t give his hands something to do, he was going to do something stupid. Kissing her had frayed his control. The urge to sink his tongue against hers, lift her up onto the counter, shove her dress over her ass, and plunge his cock into her was suffocating.

They had not negotiated another encounter, and even if they had, there was not a chance she could take his cock. The thought filled him with a reassuring level of apprehension, but a disturbing level of desire.

She was still annoyed with him too.

The emotions he could perceive seemed to bounce between surface-level anger and the deep wounds that made him want to commit levels of violence Taidc would admire.

He could not shake the urge to kiss her until she came away from that dark vortex that seemed to swallow her sizzling.

There were many words in 25XA for the strange awareness he had of her, but the closest option came from her native language: sizzle. Even saying it sounded right. The translator had offered other options like sparkle, glister, glisten, shimmer, scintillate, shine, radiate, and glow, but sizzle was Thalia.

He had almost told her that he had sensed her “wit wandering,” and the diner had as well, like a shadow had passed over the place. It had been the oddest sensation, he still wasn’t even sure that’s actually what it was, or if that’s what had set off the strange pause, or if it had been a natural collective lull that sometimes groups experienced.

The room may also have chilled because she had been ignoring hungry customers.

Most psys weren’t able to project their abilities onto others. When a psy was able to impress their abilities onto others, it was usually a distinct two-person sensation. Given how rare such psys were, the chance of any Gestalt citizen ever encountering a weaponized psy (much less one skillful enough to not make their intrusion known) was virtually non-existent.

Thalia might be unique, she might be powerful, but extremely skilled? Not even a little.

She disappeared into the diner to clean up and be annoyed at him.

Better that she be annoyed with him than upset about Him.

He had often had to go to places around 25XA for worm deliveries that required stopping into unsavory places and dealing with unsavory types who wanted to pick a couple of House 8 scales. He dealt with them like he dealt with worms: immediate use of sufficient force to control the situation. All bottom-feeders became more aggressive if they sensed continued resistance may net rewards.

Escalation was for Prime Scions and diplomats.

Taidc had foreseen that House 8 scales would be trophies for low-feeding predators, so Ahane and Erkus had spent many sessions training with the Second Scion in the House’s training courtyard. Ohade had too, before he’d gotten sick. Ahane had never missed a session, and he’d never shirked the opportunity for any training or conditioning at all offered in the military, but he’d always been impressed that his youngest brother had actually shown a stripe of seriousness and sharp scales. Erkus’ weapon of choice had historically been his wit, his charm, and his extraordinary good looks. But Erkus accepted Taidc”s attempt to beat the pretty off him.

Erkus had just laughed the whole time.

Taidc had sworn that House 8 would not be an easy meal for anyone. He had also advised Ahane that he was not the most skilled in combat, his determination and unflinching willingness were far more useful traits. Keiron had a natural tendency to want to be diplomatic and to escalate as necessary, which was fine for a Prime Scion. Couldn’t be off starting wars and all.

“But for the rest of us?” Taidc had told him. “Meet violent threats with violent action. Do not hesitate. It is not a game of strategy. That is Keiron’s job. Our job is to deal with threats as quickly, efficiently, and permanently as possible. But remember that threats renew themselves all the time, and once you gain a certain reputation, yes, the lesser threats will fall away, but those that present themselves will be serious. Always be prepared to do what is necessary.”

He had not planned to kill the 23B that had attacked her. He had been fairly confident that the 23B would not, in fact, die.

And if he had died… oh well.

The Site Master”s threat to transfer the 23B’s debt to his own register was curious. He had almost said you can’t do that, but caught himself, because the Site Master could do that. This was his domain, and no one would stop him. Ahane’s value as a Cook did have limits, and it may not exceed the value of those debts.

In places like this, one’s reputation was important. At the same time, one’s identity was difficult to verify since there was no access to the Gestalt communication array. So why did the 23B remain here when he could go elsewhere and disappear? Why did the Site Master continue to extend credit?

The currency within a register could be traced while it was on-network, but once off-network, it was impossible to say where it had been. It was easy to get rid of “compromised” credits: exchange them, buy something, lose them gambling, simply launch the register into the nearest star.

Things that did not have obvious explanations were potential hazards. Especially if he was at risk of inheriting debts. He was already in debt to the Site Master.

He had the medical supplies in the shuttle to sell, but no one here seemed to have that kind of money, and it would only prompt questions and make him memorable. And he might need them. Or need to trade them for what raw currency could not buy.

Not that he needed the money. Which was a strange position to be in. One he could never remember being in. His first pay deposit would erase the small debt to the Site Master for soap and towels, and their other basic needs were being met: a place to sleep, air to breathe, water to drink, hygiene, food. He would need to secure more clothing soon, and some creature comforts like another towel and blankets.

Granted: he had not started trying to repair the shuttle. There may be substantial costs with that.

Not that he had anywhere to go.

He glanced through the service window. Thalia was finishing wiping down all the tables.

He looked at his offending hands.

He had wanted to kiss her. He had wanted to pull her in and kiss her. Not hard, like before in the concourse, but soft. Slowly. Then, perhaps, invite her to abuse his body for her amusement again.

She had seemed to need a kiss.

But how could anyone need something like that? Beyond just needing the physical contact and release. And the validation of being approached for an encounter. Everyone enjoyed being wanted.

Except Taidc, it seemed. Taidc would have rejected the cosmos incarnate.

Thalia’s need had seemed different from those things. His need had been different than that.

Was Thalia an intriguing novelty quite unlike anything else, or was there more to it?

Granted, he had not spent a lot of time around non-family since getting out of the military. And he hadn’t been very social before that. Losing all your friends (and watching your brothers lose all their friends) because you were no longer good enough to be friends with sours one’s opinion on sentients.

He finished the pots, hung them from their hooks, arranged his ladle and its chain near the door.

“Shit!” She bolted through the door and past him. “Shit!”

Her voice cracked on a note of panic and she flung herself into their small room and onto the bed. She pulled the blankets over her head and flopped down.

“What are you—” The sound of the doors unlocking out front yanked his attention.

The Site Master had let himself in.

Ahane exited the kitchen and stepped over the fallen broom. The Site Master waved his feelers at him. “Your assistant fled.”

How much had the Site Master seen through the grimy glass? They had not cleaned it specifically for that reason, although at this point, Ahane doubted that there was much that would clean the thick layers of oily grime and dust from the glass. The Site Master”s feelers indicated that the Site Master expected a response. “You startled her.”

“This is not your home. You would do well to tell her that.”

“She knows.”

“As she also knows she has no mate?”

“You came here for a purpose, Site Master. And it was not to spy on my assistant.”

“Perhaps it was.”

No, it hadn’t been.

The Site Master gracefully gestured with all his top legs towards the three males that had accompanied him. “Supplies have arrived. I will leave you to make best use of them.”

The three males brought in a flat cart stacked with a dozen large sacks and half a dozen smaller sacks. Ahane lifted the sacks to get a look at the labels. Nothing unusual or interesting. Basic fare like what he had been serving, and not even good quality. Dehydrated granules and powders. Given the different lot numbers, it had not been directly ordered or purchased. The smaller items were a mix of standard items as well, but two of the sacks were intriguing. One was a dehydrated vegetable granule that was fairly popular and somewhat expensive, and the other was the same mealworm granules that the Greys had been importing. Very expensive, very hard to source, and generally considered a waste if dehydrated for long-term storage and deep transport.

His scales betrayed his interest in the items, even though he tried not to react. Then again, any Cook would be surprised to get those two particular items in a place like this.

“I trust you know what to do with all of this.” The Site Master gestured with his feelers, taking care to brush the precise top one-tenth across the bags in one graceful gesture.

“I am well-acquainted with all of these. Although this is a waste. Someone out here breeding illegitimate cats?” He picked up the granules.

…or Human/Grey hybrids.

The Site Master clicked his mandibles. “I expect you to sell those special ingredients at a profit, and to stretch that profit in a way I will find impressive.”

Ah. A challenge. “But the customers won’t?”

He tapped away. “You will find most of the customers have never had such morsels.”

Ahane wheeled the cart into the back, then checked on Thalia. The Human was still burrowed under the blanket. “He’s gone. He didn’t see anything.”

She peeked over the edge of the blanket. “You sure?”

“Yes. He was bringing supplies and was more concerned with telling me to make him a tidy profit.”

“Aren’t we doing that already?” Her mop of brown hair flopped as one mat. She shoved it out of the way and focused on him.

He had not noticed Chess’ hair behaving that way. Thalia’s hair seemed similar. Not the exact same color, but the same general texture and length and basic brown shade. “I used the established prices for the basic menu, but there were two exotic ingredients in the shipment. I am expected to use them to maximum profit.”

“Huh. Do you know how to use them?”

“Of course I know how to use them. He also said that his customers have no taste, so I need not concern myself with pleasing them.”

She cocked her head. “Strange flex, but okay.”

“He also reminded me to not kill anyone. I thought that might please you.”

“It would if I thought you intended to listen to either of us.” She sighed and flopped backwards into the blankets.

“…then I am glad to know I won’t disappoint you.”