HowtoPleaseanAlien (2 page)

Deran knew all the heroic stories about
Hanjek and the Ferocious Five
, who had even destroyed one of the bigger spaceships by pouring fruit juice in their machines. The height of the smoke column after the explosion grew by the telling.

Since then, the Rahenians had not attempted another riot, and Mawany security had dropped to a minimum again.

Cautiously, Deran crept closer, thinking of Hanjek and playing the mind game of how he would win and force the invaders to leave the planet before the
vinti
-fruits were ripe. He had no trouble climbing the roughhewn trunks that held the structure up. Once safely up to the first floor, he squatted to have a look at what was going on inside.

Two female Mawanies talked with each other in their language that consisted of tweeting, chirping and purring sounds. The latter was meant to be laughter, but Deran was not sure. He knew little of the language and less of the strange habits. No one had ever made an effort to teach the Rahenians the language of their invaders and only bit by bit did the people gain an understanding. The Mawanies were not pleased that the peasants learned it, but the workers close to them caught some meaning here and there and taught it to their families. Slowly but persistently, the foreign language became more understandable.

While the two females lifted shining pieces of cloth to cover their slim alien bodies, obviously choosing what to wear tonight, Deran heard the words
fun, new, male
and
excitement
. At last the word
Rahenian
was clear.

A shiver crept up his spine. There were rumors about Mawany habits of entertainment and even more stories about indescribable cruelties, especially after Hanjek and his men had disappeared.

Deran left his position to move around the building. It was easier than climbing a tree and his soft shoes made no sound. In a way, he liked the new palaces, as strange as they were. The rooms were high and bright with light coming from undetectable sources. Furniture with long sides and pointy edges competed with tables of a shining material that changed patterns every few seconds. Once he had fallen in a trance just watching the swirling motion. Luckily, he had awakened before a Mawany had caught him, or he’d have been one of the toads thrown out.

Along the small balcony, he swiftly reached the other end of the building to find the young man sitting on the floor. Deran gasped and quickly held his breath. It was too late. The young man had heard him and lifted his head.

“Who are you?”

Deran’s throat was too constricted to answer. He stared at the thick wooden chains that wound around the man’s wrists and ankles. They looked heavy. And if that was not enough, the man was naked and the chains were connected to a ring in the floor. The boy wanted to look away and could not. He swallowed dryly, full of fear.

“What are you doing here?” The young man’s voice was low and urgent. “How did you get here? Hey, don’t you have a voice?”

“I…I am…” Deran licked his lips. He felt hot and cold and positively ill. “Is that what happened to Hanjek?” he blurted. “Did they catch you? I…I want to help. How can I…?”

“Peace, boy, breathe.” The young man frowned. “I’m no captive. I applied for a job.”

“A job?” Deran felt hysterical laughter welling up in his throat like bubbly juice when it was overdone. “How’s this a job?”

The young man smiled amiably.

“That is a good question, at last. I came here to apply for a job as a servant and they offered me this.” The chains clanked dully when he lifted his hands. “Well, it is a kind of service. At least, that is what they’ve said so far.”

Deran was still so hot he thought his hair would take fire. Neglecting caution, he crept closer, his eyes wandering between the tethered man and the entrance on the other side, far away.

“You wanted to be bound like this?”

“It’s part of the training. So, yes.” He cocked his head. “You are the boy traveling at my heels.”

“Not your heels, exactly, but…yes.”

“Well, you were not that bad. Not good enough, either. You should try to avoid hasty movements even if it’s dark. By the way, I’m Kianto.”

Deran recalled enough courtesy to tell him his name.

“Welcome, boy named Deran,” Kianto replied with a curt bow. “Why did you follow me?”

“I…” Doing it seemed much easier than explaining his motive. After all, there was no real reason to be here. He had just been unoccupied. He would have felt better if he had had a real reason to present. “I thought this would be fun.”

“But you don’t look like you found some fun.”

Deran swallowed, feeling even more stupid than a toad.

“I hoped to see what you do here, but…”

“But you expected me to carry food for the aliens, right?”

“Something like that, maybe.” He cast his eyes down.

“And you truly hoped to see me fail and stumble, scattering their bread on the floor?” When Deran did not answer, Kianto sighed. “They don’t pay grand for just carrying stuff around. And not for throwing it, anyway. There are some servants who are well paid, so I heard. And now…I’m not sure. There was no talk about payment yet. They say they would test me before they decide.”

“Test?” Deran croaked. “Do you know what’s on their alien minds?”

“Alien minds!” Kianto chortled. “No, honestly, the last two meetings were as simple as that. Just being here for them to look at, no cloth in between. They came and went and then they sent me off again.” He shrugged. “Who can tell how their alien minds work, ey?”

Deran was not convinced. In his mind, he saw Mawanies with eyes like saucers staring at Kianto to decide which part they would rip out first. He still wondered what had become of Hanjek and his friends. The old men in his village growled that the Mawanies had cut them up to see what they thought or that they were flayed and eaten. Some even claimed to have seen Hanjek put to question by ten Mawanies and that he had been divided in equal parts when he did not yield and answer their questions.

“Did you do something to anger them?”

“No. Like I said, I applied for a job. There are always jobs around here, and they don’t get all the people they need. That was the rumor I heard.”

“It’s because men are frightened.”

“Because the Rahenians are proud,” Kianto replied. “But I’m my family’s eighth child and they don’t want me to be around. Just another mouth to feed, you know.”

Deran frowned.

“Are you so young? I thought you had a family of your own.”

“I’ve seen eighteen moons and stars, and if I ever want to feed a family, I need to work for a living.”

“It was not necessary in the old days.”

Kianto snorted.

“In the
old days
. You sound like my grandfather. In the old days, the Rahenians owned all of the land, the fruits, the plantations and all the animals in their herds. And, to be honest, there was trouble here and there. All that talk about peaceful sharing is just making it sound better than it was. But I agree with you. The Mawanies tell our people what they can eat and how much. All the rest is loaded and sold. And if you don’t have coin, you have to earn it.” He shook his head. “The old days are dead, Deran, and if you want to have a family, you should think about how to build a home and keep your wife and kids nourished.”

Deran had not yet spent a fleeting moment on the thought of family and future. Still, he was shaken by the bleak prospect of maybe working for the invaders if he did not want to.

“I won’t…I mean, I will be a field worker like my father.”

“I wish you luck with that, Deran. But if that doesn’t work, do something in spite of yourself and work for the Mawanies. They are not bad people. Different, yes, but not bad.”

Deran pulled back, feeling lectured. He frowned and shook his head.

“I don’t know you. And what you tell me…”

“I see, I was good enough to feed your curiosity. Now, if you don’t mind, you’d better leave. The Mawanies might come any time to take me with them. And if you don’t want to be number two tonight and show your young body without those pretty clothes, you’d better slip out as quick as you can.”

Deran spun around as if the Mawanies were already waiting with a dip net to catch him. When the room was still empty, he climbed out on the rim. There he halted and turned back, seeing Kianto smile.

“Are you sure you want to do that? Stay here?”

“I will be safe. For now, anyway.”

Deran nodded and climbed down.

* * * *

Donego watched the huge room fill with Mawanies. He exhaled and wished he had a lesser sense of smell. The aliens still smelled strong, like a bundle of spices that would not mix, and it clung to the back of his throat like molasses. They had nothing of the earthy, warm smell of the humans he had grown up with. He scratched his shock of brown hair. It needed a cut, but since the Mawanies liked their servants to have full and thick hair on their heads and nowhere else, the appointment with the hairdresser had been postponed. He would not dare anger his employers, Donego admitted with a grunt.

He shifted his weight and listened to the chatter around him. He understood most of the musical sounds, even if two or three of them spoke at the same time. Sometimes he imagined their language to be a song and was content to just hear the music in it. The other times he understood too much to pretend they were singing. Mawanies were traders and rulers out of passion. And if they did neither trade nor rule, they had lustful entertainments on their minds, some of which he needed getting used to even after his long time of service.

The light changed as if the Mawanies had a mutual understanding of level of brightness. Servants brought vegetable bites on large plates and bowls with soup. Praise went up as the Mawanies turned to eat. Donego had to look away to not retch. The Mawanies swallowed most of the bites whole and the food went down their long necks like marbles pressed through a straw. He had seen animals eat like this, but never intelligent creatures, no matter how small their resemblance to his own race was. And they threw food as a sign of appreciation. Within minutes the floor was covered with bits and pieces of food and full of puddles of soup while the happy chatter went on in higher tones. Some went so far as to smear food into their neighbors’ faces. The purring was louder when the one attacked took revenge with his bowl of soup. Purring filled the room when the splattered soup dripped from the small chin onto chest and floor.

The human watcher cleared his throat and straightened his simple woven skirt and the bright red sash draped across his shoulder. It was a fine garment, much better than the one he had worn as a field worker. The memory of his entrance into the service of the invaders was both sweet and bitter. Sweet, because he lived a much better life now, and bitter because he was considered a traitor to the cause of Hanjek. All Rahenians who still dreamed of rebellion shunned him as if he alone manifested the Mawany rule.

When more servants entered to clear up the mess on the floor, one of the female Mawanies clapped her long-fingered hands and Donego turned to watch the new man being led into the room. He inhaled sharply and ripped his eyes open only to quickly turn his head away so no one saw his longing. The man was muscled, he was hung, he was a dream come true, and he had come within Donego’s reach. Just the image of his member made his heart pound and his hands wet. The Mawanies around him shared his surprise and admiration. By what Donego understood, they, too, welcomed such an outstanding example of manliness in their midst.

Slowly, irresistibly, Donego’s eyes were drawn toward the young man, who was introduced as Kianto. It took him all he had to not run and claim him at once.

He was tall, strong and self-confident as if the chains around his wrists meant as little to him as being naked. He kept his chin high and smiled around, impressing the guests without words. When he stood in the center of the room he turned around to let everybody see him in his beauty. He flexed his shoulder muscles and stood straight. With open hands he challenged the Mawanies to comment on his appearance, but they seemed flabbergasted.

“Now, will this test go on for another moon and stars, or do you want me?”

Donego knew by the way the Mawanies squinted that they needed a translation of the double meaning. He grinned without offering help.

“We have seen you now in all your pride,” the Mawany by the name Won Ta Ki answered. Her vocal cords had trouble with the Rahenian words, but she managed to be understandable. “You have impressed us, Kianto, and we accept your service.”

“What service do you expect?” Kianto asked and lifted his shackled hands. “Standing around in the altogether with chains of various colors? I bet, I can do better than just standing around like a tree.”

Again, Won Ta Ki seemed to ponder, head inclined, about the man’s words before she answered.

“No, there will be more different ways to entertain us. With females and males of your race.” She moved her eight-fingered hands like playing an unseen instrument. “And other items that will be explained to you in due time.”

Kianto frowned. Donego, frozen at his place, waited, his heart palpitating, for his decision. The Mawanies would not keep Kianto as a prisoner. If he preferred other work he would not be hindered to leave and another would, eventually, take his place. However, the short minute was enough for Donego to pray for Kianto to accept the offer and stay in the household of Na Ris Nei, to whom the palace belonged.