Edgar Aeternum, Book 1: Tales of Aeternal Love (8 page)

The magna came to a halt at Grammercy
Station, one of the downtown stops. Edgar rose to disembark along
with two others, neither of whom was the possible offender. As he
passed each one, he took in a deep breath through his nose. It
wasn't the woman; she smelled like lilacs. It wasn't the teen,
either; his scent was a mix of weed and patchouli. Edgar felt a
momentary twinge of arousal, though the boy was far too young for
his tastes. That twinge lasted only briefly; as he passed Mr.
Gymclothes, he had to put his hand over his mouth and nose after
inhaling to keep himself from visibly gagging. The man seemed to be
oblivious to the fact that he smelled like a wheel of camembert
left out in the July sun.

At that exact moment, the passenger exiting
in front of him dropped his bag and a handful of grocery items
spilled into the aisle. The man turned around quickly, looking
stricken, and apologized before bending over to retrieve his errant
foodstuffs.

Oh Christ on a drainpipe! Are you fucking
serious? I cannot believe this shit luck!

Then Edgar looked at where the poor man's
face was as he picked up his groceries. He immediately thanked his
lucky stars and felt bad for the man. Edgar was standing just
behind Mr. Gymclothes; Grocery Man's nose, on the other hand, was
crotch-level with the stench. The man finally retrieved his items
and hastily disembarked, followed closely by Edgar. The first thing
Edgar did upon reaching fresh air was to take several deep breaths
of it. Grocery Man wasn't quite so lucky. The first thing he did
was run to the nearest garbage can, drop his bag, and vomit loudly
and violently into the can.

Edgar watched, surprised. When the man's
spasms subsided, he approached to see if he could assist. "You
okay, buddy?"

The man turned around, embarrassed. "Sorry,"
he said, "I couldn't help it. He... Oh fuck!" The man hit the trash
can again. A moment later he finished. "That was the worst smell...
I can't even..." he trailed off, shaking his head.

"I hear you," Edgar responded
sympathetically. "I thought I had it bad. Then I noticed where your
head was, you poor guy. You gonna be alright?"

"Oh yeah, I'll be fine," he said. "Thanks for
asking. I live just around the corner so I'll be home and," he
paused, trying to find the right word, "cleaned up soon. If I
wasn't already about to vomit, I'd have told his dumb ass to take a
fucking shower before he left the gym!"

"I couldn't agree more!" Edgar said. "If we
hadn't made it out when we did, we'd have needed to share that
can!"

"Ha!" the man barked. "I understand. Hey
listen, no offense, but I really need to get going. I need a drink
of anything so badly I can't describe it!"

"No worries," Edgar said, flashing a grin. "I
hope the rest of your evening is vastly better!"

"Trust me, barring sudden death, it will be!"
the man said, smiled and walked away.

Edgar took a few more minutes to enjoy the
fresh air before he continued on to Maxi's. He walked in just after
ten, pausing to adjust to the dimmer lights and loud music. The
club was hopping tonight; most of the booths surrounding the busy
dance floor were full. The music wasn't half bad tonight, good
base, synth in the mid-upper range; decent dance music for the 2-4.
Much of modern music left Edgar wanting, some of it to the point
he'd prefer silence. Jace was probably here by now; the man was
pathologically punctual. Edgar began a booth walk to his right,
scanning the seats for Jace as he traveled the perimeter.

He was almost halfway back to the front door,
on the left side of the "U," when he saw Jace. The man was already
nursing a beer and he stood to greet his friend. "Edgar, man! Do
you ever do anything but sleep and fuck?" Jace's usual ballbusting
seemed a bit strained. "How are ya?" he practically hollered to be
heard above the music.

Edgar gave his friend a brotherly hug in
greeting and waited until they settled into the booth before
answering. The interior of the booth was shielded by a
sound-damping field; the difference in volume was day and night.
"I'm good," Edgar said in a normal voice. He pushed the signal
button to place a drink order. "How are you? You look like you've
had," he paused, "a rough night."

"I'm managing," Jace answered. Managing was
not very Jace; the man was upbeat and optimistic to just shy of
being annoying.

"C'mon, spill it!" Edgar said. The waitress
arrived and leaned into the booth. Once she was surrounded by the
damping field, Edgar greeted her and ordered a beer for himself and
another vodka tonic for Jace. The waitress smiled and said she'd be
right back with their drinks. "So...?" Edgar prompted.

"Anice's news was
grande
, my friend.
She's engaged." Jace's voice paused, not a good sign. "To a
Thraxian. She's happy as hell, but our folks... Edgar, a Thraxian!
They're gonna shit! Anice is totally freaking out about telling
them. Our Dads will eventually get over it, but Mom is gonna go
nova! She wants me there for moral support when she tells them.

Man, I am twenty-nine years old and it's not
my engagement, but I would rather take a punch to the balls than be
in the same room for this conversation! So yeah, drinks tonight is
exactly what I needed. We're taking a shuttle tomorrow morning. A
Thraxian, Edgar! Fuck!" Jace looked dumbfounded.

Edgar flopped back in the booth, shocked. Not
so much by the interspecies relationship as by the fact that Anice
chose a Thraxian. He'd long ago overcome any judgmental thoughts
toward different races, both human and alien, that managed to
survive his hippy-ish upbringing. He shook his head and smiled, not
envying Jace, but almost wishing he could be a fly on the wall for
that conversation.

"Anice and a Thraxian," Edgar said. "I just
can't believe it! She's such a strong woman and Thraxian's are
known for their opinion of all females as second-class citizens.
Thraxian women aren't allowed to work, can't vote, dare not ever
contradict their husbands – or any male, for that matter – in
public. I just can't get my head around how Anice fell in love with
a Thraxian. Granted, they're among the most beautiful people in the
known worlds, but still…"

Such backward attitudes toward women and a
whole lot more. Male homosexuality, for instance; they can't
tolerate the idea of men loving and fucking each other. They're
taught from a young age that it's the biggest offense possible. If
a male child identifies as homosexual and lets it be known, or if
an adult gets found out, they're expected to kill themselves. And
if they don't do it, their fathers or other male relatives will
gladly do it for them.

They're a bit more relaxed when it comes to
offworld men. Mainly because they don't feel they have a right to
force a non-Thraxian male to commit suicide for liking dick. Those
Thraxian men who manage to survive skulk around like human
homosexuals did in the 1940s on Earth. Or, if they're smart, they
leave Thraxus. That is a shame of another sort, unless their chosen
career happens to be offworld transport. And some humans used to
think that all male flight attendants were gay; they'd shit if they
knew about Thraxian spacers.

It's a totally repressive, fucked-up
culture, in my book. But, the world doesn't live by my book and
it's not my place to be judge of all. I'll leave that to those on
Genesis. And the Thraxians themselves, of course. It's good that
Anice is bisexual, though. While they'll kill a dude for it,
Thraxian men just love watching two women get off on each other.
The wife's consent is irrelevant, depending on the husband. Anice,
child, what have you got yourself into?

Don't get me wrong; there are a million
things right about Thraxus. Art, science, music, literature,
medicine… all of it a thousand times more advanced than the next
closest comparison. It just amazes me that they never got over the
misogynist bit. It's not even a religious thing. Thraxians laughed
at the concept of god before humans ever walked erect. It's a
deeply-held philosophical deal.

I've tried more than a few times to
understand it, but I've known too many kick-ass women to buy into
it. It's kinda like how people used to train elephants: Put a chain
on the baby's ankle so damn heavy the poor little shit can barely
move and by the time it's an adult – capable of squashing your
sorry ass – a lightweight rope is all it takes to restrain it. The
elephant could snap the rope in a heartbeat, but it doesn't believe
it can; so it never does. Thraxian men are in for a world of hurt
if Thraxian women ever figure it out! Serves 'em right, too.

"I know!" Jace said, exasperated. His
outburst brought Edgar out of his surprised reverie. "I have no
idea what the hell she was thinking. Do you know what her life is
going to be like, Edgar?" The pain in Jace's voice showed his deep
concern for Anice's well-being rather than anti-Thraxian
prejudice.

"Yes, actually, I do," Edgar said, shaking
his head. "Are you certain this is her choice and that she's not
being coerced? I know love can make us all stupid sometimes, but
Thraxian men are known for being good lovers and persuasive
debaters."

"No, I'm sure it's all free will," Jace
answered. "Not that Anice couldn't be persuaded, but she told me
how they met and fell in love. He's here studying, ahem,
'primitive' art; they met at a gallery showing two months ago. They
left after the show and spent the night at an all-night cafe,
drinking coffee and talking art. She said they only just slept
together two weeks ago; 'It's a meeting of the minds,
hermano
, not the loins,' she tells me."

Edgar worked hard to stifle a laugh at Jace's
spot-on impression of Anice; he even nailed the haughty tone. Jace
caught the look in Edgar's eyes though, and burst out laughing
himself. Surprised, Edgar joined him and the two laughed like
fools, stopping only to thank the waitress as she delivered their
drinks.

"
Gracias, amigo
, I needed that," said
Jace, wiping tears from his eyes. "Ahhh... I can always count on
you for a good ear and a strong shoulder." Jace took a sip of the
cocktail, eyes widening, "And strong drinks! What did you do, have
her dump half the bottle in?"

Edgar chuckled, "You sat right there when I
ordered you a double! You looked like you could use it."

"True that, but a little warning next time,
eh?" Jace's smile and wink told Edgar his friend was only
joking.

"Well, as hard as it might be, Jace, if she's
really in love..." Edgar left the sentence hanging.

"I know, I know," Jace said. "It is hard,
though. Yeah, she can be a royal pain in the ass, but she's still
my sister. I asked her what she knew about Thraxian culture and she
rattled off some things even I didn't know. Like, for instance, did
you know Thraxian men sometimes insist on their wives having sex
with other women of the husband's choosing solely for his
pleasure?" Jace shook his head in disbelief.

"As a matter of fact, I did know that," Edgar
said. "I know Anice's bi, but I'd have thought that particular
piece of knowledge would be a deal breaker. That - and no offense -
that females aren't permitted to contradict or question their
husband or any other male."

"Don't think I didn't bring that one up,"
laughed Jace. "I have the bruise to prove it," he patted his left
shoulder. "She may be tiny, but she's got a helluva roundhouse
right!"

"And?" Edgar questioned.

"Didn't slow her down in the least," was
Jace's answer.

"Please, please, please tell me she is not
playing the 'my love can change him' song! She can't be that
stupid, Jace!"

"Nope, not even close. That's the kicker,
Edgar! Every logical argument I give her as to why this is a bad
idea, she meets with an equally logical defense. No stupid bullshit
movie ideas like that one, just good, solid, logical reasons why
this is a good marriage."

"That's the problem," Edgar said. "You're
fighting emotions with logic. That's a fight you can never win,
buddy," he said. He waited a moment, then asked, "Who
proposed?"

"Huh?" Jace said. "What does it matter?"

"You're thinking like a human," Edgar
reminded him.

"Well, yeah!" Jace responded. "What the hell
else would I be thinking like, a fish? How many of those," he
gestured at Edgar's half-empty beer, "did you have before you got
here? Or are you just high?" Edgar knew it was all in good fun; he
and Jace had been through enough to be able to tease each other
like brothers.

"Three and no. Like a Thraxian!" Edgar
quipped. "I ask again: Who proposed to whom?"

"And I say again, what does it matter?" Jace
answered.

Edgar shook his head. "I should be asking you
how much you had to drink before I got here," he laughed. "Look, in
human society, things like 'the man must propose' went out hundreds
of years ago. But, as you already know, Thraxian society is not
human society. Now answer the damn question before I kick you in
the shin."

"Try it! I may be shorter than you, but I can
still kick your ass!" Jace was smiling. "Okay, okay, I'll answer.
She did. You know Anice, if she wants it, she's gonna go after it!
Now tell me what difference it makes."

"Well," Edgar drew out the word. "For one
thing, traditional Thraxian men would never accept a proposal from
a female, even if it was one they wanted. It's just not done. I'm
assuming he said 'yes' since you said they're going through with
the wedding?"

"Yeah, he did," Jace replied, all serious and
listening intently.

"He's obviously not a Thraxian
traditionalist, then. Unless, of course, he re-proposed?" Edgar
asked.

"No, she said he was overjoyed, accepted and
then they started making wedding plans," Jace said. "Is this
good?"

"Hmmm... I'd say it looks like it might be
good, Jace." Edgar replied. "A Thraxian traditionalist would either
have rejected the proposal or, if he really wanted the woman,
re-proposed. You may not know, but what does he do for a
living?"