Posted by PK on December 02, 2001 at 18:04:57:
Jeff and the Ku, or the Werewolf and his Girls
"Oh come on," Katri cajoled. "Are you sure?" She leaned forward over the desk
provocatively. It should have been enough to make her breasts fall out of her provocative
costume, but Kuari tend towards the petite in physique.
The costume hadn't been intended to be provocative, Jeff remembered. At least not sexually.
The short, sash-belted tunic, falling to mid-thigh, had simply been imposed on them by them
by their former masters, the Ss'Rith, for the same reason that well-designed food packing
comes with little plastic tabs you pull to get the wrapper off quickly. Pull the sash and the
tunic falls off, giving quick access to the edible contents.
"We don't do that any more," Jeff told her stiffly. "We're not the Ss'Rith."
Certainly not since the human-led Federation had liberated the Ku race from the Ss'Rith and
replaced their administration with their own people. After humanity had intervened in the
Ss'Rith - Ruan war and the humans and Ruan had allied, nothing could prevent the purge of
the lizards from known space, and nobody else was about to argue with the Alliance after
that. None of the Ku had been trained for government, though many of them - the elite - had
become accustomed to working as office staff and personal aides. It was a hazardous
occupation, but being a non-professional Ku was more so. The reptilian aliens had bred their
humanoid subjects for cheap labour and fast food. The costume was 'traditional', a reminder
to the elite workers not to get above themselves, that they too were potentially food.
Katri smiled seductively. "No, you're much cuter." She edged closer. Jeff could smell her.
She smelled as good as she looked, which was very good indeed. Shorter than most human
females, she lost nothing in comparison. Warm sweet flesh shone where her clothing failed
to conceal it, her scent hinted at the rest. She pouted prettily. "Don't you like us?"
Jeff wanted to fuck her. He wanted to eat her alive too. The fact that he rather liked her
enhanced the one appetite and did nothing to quell the other. It wasn't her fault, he reminded
himself. The Ss'Rith had engineered an imbalanced sex ratio. She was just horny. Who could
blame her?
When I'm such a handsome dog, he thought. Woof woof. Come here, pretty pussy...
...down, boy, he told himself.
Not that it would be illegal, exactly. Not with consent. There was no bar to interacting
intimately with the natives, they were classed as sentient and entitled to self-determination
under Federation standard rules. But the Alliance Diplomatic Corps tended to look askance at
anything that hinted at exploitation of subordinates. And the ADC, the driving force behind
the Federation and the arbiter of interspecies relations, was not to be trifled with.
"I like you just fine," Jeff said uncomfortably. "However, we're both professionals and this
doesn't come under your job description or mine." It sounded prissy even as he said it, but he
kept his face impassive. This job was important to him, he wasn't about to jeopardise it just to
satisfy his carnal appetites.
Katri took it in good humour. She slid off the desk, artfully allowing her tunic to ride up and
display her genitals for a tantalisingly brief moment. Jeff tried not to gape.
"Well, if you change your mind...." She pouted playfully and danced away.
Jeff sighed with relief. He really wished Katri would wear something normal. The revealing
costume wasn't compulsory any more, lots of Ku wore human or Ruan fashions now. If some
of his staff persisted in wearing the 'T'saaish' outfit he couldn't stop them, but he was
increasingly sure that they did it to tease him.
For some reason, a bit from a Terry Pratchett novel came into his mind. He had long since
become addicted to the old pre-space Terran SF classics. Two non-Terran people talking,
one asks the other if he likes humans. The other says, yes, I like humans. There was a race
who didn't like humans, didn't like them at all. I think there are a few of them left in a zoo
somewhere. But I like humans a lot...
The Ss'Rith didn't exactly dislike the Ruan, they just wanted them for dinner. And then
humans joined in and the Ss'Rith didn''t like that at all. And now nobody knew if there were
any of them left.
Jeff somehow got through the day, but he couldn't get that image out of his mind. Subliminal
imagery, he told himself. And, how do they know how to do that?
Images of Katri haunted his dreams, fantastic and bizarre imagery and meaningless
storylines all somehow centering around two focii: her face with its teasing expression and
the flash of her departure.
He woke aroused and panting. Not exactly a new condition. Here he was, without a partner of
his own, on a planet inhabited almost entirely by attractive humanoid females. Curious
females. Not only were the Ku burdened by a seriously unbalanced sex ratio, their own males
were barely sentient; mere stud bulls; the Ss'Rith had presumably engineered that too in
order to reduce the risk of insurrection and make it easier to keep their cattle under control.
Those of them who weren't disturbed and alarmed by the sentient males of the occupying
Federation peoples were fascinated by them. Their former masters themselves were all
male, their own females being little more than egg-layers, but they weren't mammalian. Many
of the Kuari were intrigued by the idea of relating to exotic males they could talk to. Men.
And the biologies of the various races comprising the Federation were surprisingly
compatible, scientists from a number of disciplines were still arguing about how that had
happened.
Jeff checked the time. Too bloody early, too late to go back to sleep. Time to kill before
work...
He set about his morning routine, showering as if determined to scrub off any residual
pheromones produced by his psychophysical state and drying himself with an air blower. His
acute sense of smell precluded the use of deodorants, their toxic effusions made him
nauseous. Preparing a breakfast of rare steak with poached eggs and mushrooms, he waved
the vidcom to a public broadcast channel while he ate. Shit, it was one of those bloody boring
morning chat shows, he had hoped for a rerun of one of the classic pre-colonial Terran
programmes. Star Trek was his favourite of the moment, wildly and hilariously unrealistic and
yet oddly prophetic in parts, much as Wells and Verne had been in their day.
The Alliance saved Kuar from the Ss'Rith, he though sourly, but gave them breakfast TV. He
couldn't blame the Ku, they had lost whatever culture they might originally have had and now
the Fed had given them access to vidcom technology and the freedom to use it. He couldn't
be bothered to access a scheduling list from the info channel to find something better, like a
Pink Panther cartoon, so he let it wash over him.
"All I'm saying," the Ku woman on screen said, "Is that it's our natural role."
The interviewer, a younger and prettier Ku, frowned earnestly. "How can you say that? It's a
role that was imposed on us by our oppressors. There's nothing natural about it."
The older woman shook her head with an indulgent smile on her face. "It doesn't matter how
we came about it. Evolution is a series of accidents. It's not some sort of divine plan. A
species can change by adapting to a change of climate, or fail to survive at all. The Masters
were no more or less unnatural than an Ice Age. It's a meaningless distinction. However we
came to be what we are, we ARE what we are."
Someone in the studio audience shouted something angrily. The host turned back to the
guest speaker. "Masters?"
The guest shrugged. "It's the term we're accustomed to using for them. I know it's
unfashionable to use it these days. I know the human-dominated Federation calls them the
Ss'Rith, but that's just the name the Ruan gave them. It doesn't have any meaningful
translation in our language."
"OUR language? Everybody speaks English now. It's a superior language, wider in
vocabulary and concepts than the one the Ss'Rith allowed us to speak..."
"So the Federation tell us. We may look like humans but we're not. They're simply trying to
remake us in their own image."
The interviewer smiled like a fox. Or Wile E. Coyote finally trapping the Roadrunner. "How is
that any less natural than an Ice Age or the Ss'Rith domination? You can't have it both
ways..."
Jeff smiled. The pretty host was cleverer than she looked, the ingenuous pose was a snare.
The guest looked rattled and tried to cover it. "That's not the same at all. The humans haven't
really changed us, they're simply denying who we are..."
"And you're denying that culture determines who we are as much as a few superficial
alterations to the genome..."
"Superficial? We've existed for more generations than anyone knows in our present.."
This one will run and run, Jeff thought, waving the com to silence. Theory was fine, but he
still had to get through the day. Time to walk to the office. Stretch his legs.
The street was bustling with life. People going about their business or just going about. Most
of them Ku, a few humans and Ruan, the occasional exotic. Since the liberation, Kuar had
come alive, ripe with new possibilities. The city where he worked, formerly the centre of the
Ss'Rith administration, had become the cosmopolitan capital of a new world order. It was
exciting just to be here, but also daunting. Jeff didn't quite know how he fitted into the picture.
All those lovely, bright, juicy little Ku women, he thought. I could just eat them all up. They
brushed past him, intent on their errands. Some ignored him, some smiled, said 'Good
morning.' He shook himself.
"Are you all right, Sir?"
Jeff looked around and then down. A small red-haired Ku girl was looking at him with
concern. Do I look that lost? he wondered.
"I'm fine," he said. "Thank you."
The girl smiled and nodded uncertainly and went away.
Get a bloody grip on yourself, Jeff thought. And get some sleep the next time...
"Good morning, Sir," Ferrin greeted him cheerfully as he entered the office. Jeff noted with
relief that she'd abandoned the T'saaish in favour of Levi shorts and a Ruan style
embroidered tabard.
"G'day," he muttered gruffly. "Get me some tea. Earl Grey, hot."
"....with milk, full fat, non of that skimmed lo-cal sterilised shit," Ferrin quoted, smiling fondly.
Jeff managed a smile in return. "Didn't mean to snap," he said. Ferrin was a sweetie, she
didn't mean to tease. He really hoped Katri wouldn't keep pushing him. He glanced around
warily. Was she in yet?
Yes, she was, but talking to another of his team. One of these days..
One of these days, what? He didn't even know what Katri meant when she made her
suggestive remarks, innuendos and ambiguous advances. She was probably just flirting, the
Ku were an overtly sensual people with few inhibitions. He just didn't understand the rules.
Had she really been offering him her body or just indulging in some friendly teasing?
And even if she'd been serious, was she offering sex or actually inviting him to eat her?
Everything she said in that mood could be taken at least two ways. What had she said,
exactly? She had brought him his cup of tea and asked him if he'd like anything else.
"A cream bun? A sandwich? (leaning forward) or me?"
Something like that.
And like a classic straight man he'd fallen flat on his face. "We don't do that any more," he
had told her stiffly. "We're not the Ss'Rith." What a stiff. He hoped she had taken that to
mean that he didn't intend to exploit his staff, not that he'd thought...
It didn't bear thinking about. He wished he was better at repartee. In between getting through
the morning's work he pondered the subject, coming up with witty ripostes in his head. All
very easy to do after the fact, but in real life you have to come up with them on the spur of
the moment, otherwise it's just another sad case of "I should have said.."
"Boss?"
Jeff looked up and stifled a sigh, it was her again, still wearing that bloody "take me, fuck me,
eat me" costume.
"Lunchtime. Want anything?" Katri gave him a slightly arch look with a hint - just a hint - of a
knowing smirk touching her lips. Nothing overt.
How do they know how to do that? Jeff wondered again. It shouldn't be possible, they aren't
used to dealing with men. Or am I just projecting?
Well, take this, he though defiantly.
"Oh, nothing much," he said, feigning airy unconcern. "A cup of tea and a sandwich..."
"What would you like in your sandwich?" Katri was still straight faced, he couldn't read her.
"Oh, I don't know. You, maybe. Should keep me going 'til teatime."
"Good choice," Katri said, nodding. "Well done or medium rare? The cooks will want to
know.." She pulled at her sash, easing the knot. "Or raw?"
Jeff was hanging on by his fingernails, staring another trouncing in the face. Time to sue for a
truce. "...or I could go for an English ploughman's lunch. Bread and cheese, cold chicken
wing. More meat on it," he added wickedly.
Katri sniffed and pouted. "Your loss," she fired back and flicked away.
"And don't forget the Branston pickle," Jeff shot at her back. Katri shot a look over her
shoulder. Was that a wry smile under the glare?
Even honours at least, Jeff decided.
Katri brought him his lunch exactly as ordered, without comment, just a wry smile that told
him he'd won a round but the campaign wasn't over. Jeff replied with a deadpan, nonchalant
nod and a neutral 'thank you.' He ate it all, despite the fact that the cheese was processed,
not the sharp mature Cheddar he'd had when he'd first tasted it in England on Earth. The
chicken was overcooked and dry, but the crusty bread was quite good. He composed a
memo to the commissary, suggesting that they import some real cheese from Earth or the
Britannian colony. They did a good Wensleydale, indistinguishable from the real stuff from
Yorkshire.
Ferrin interrupted his cheese-obsessed gastronomic reverie.
"Memo, Sir, FYEO." she announced cheerily. "Marked 'urgent'"
Jeff stared at her smiling, open, freckled face. She really was quite pretty, just not a self-
consciously seductive sex goddess. Short red hair, pale skin, endearingly innocent eyes. Jeff
wondered what it would be like to lick her neat little feet, currently imprisoned in moccasins.
"Nibble on your tiny toes," he said. For a brief moment he experienced a wave of panic as he
wondered if he'd said it aloud. No, he hadn't, she was still waiting.
"Another secret message from the Great and Good?" he heard himself intone with just the
right degree of cynical irony to make her smile again.
"How would I know?" she replied in the same vein.
The rest of the day passed without incident. On his way home, Jeff picked up a gallon of beer
and a pizza. He was determined to discover the attraction in it. As a backup he also
purchased tuna steaks.
With the half-eaten pizza consigned to the waste recyler and a grilled tuna sandwich in his
hand, he switched on the VC.
".....not the way to take our place in the Federation."
Dogshit, it was the chat show channel again.
"The point you're missing is that this IS our role in the Federation. By right of conquest, they
own us. Without predation, we would be living in squalor in two generations. The birth rate.."
"Ever heard of birth control? We've had it all the time. We only use the studs when we have
to because the Ss'Rith scheduled it that way. Social sex is between females, under the UFP
we don't have to do it at all. Reproduction is optional."
"Reproduction is the birthright of all right-thinking Kuari. Nobody has the right to take that
away from us."
"Not even the humans whom you say 'own' us?"
Despite himself, Jeff leaned forward, interested. The guest speaker looked angry and
disdainful. A fanatic, he assessed her.
"They should appreciate us for what we are. We should be used in the way that befits us. Of
course they can do what they wish, but.."
"Actually, by Federation law, they can't. At the risk of repeating myself, we're classed as
sentient, legally human."
The guest conceded the point with an angry nod. "But we must make them see.."
Jeff switched it off with a flick of the wrist. Keying in a selection of music by Led Zeppelin,
Bach, Coltrane and the Beach boys he resolved to get seriously drunk.
The Bach came first, rather tritely he had opted for the popular Brandenburgs, their
familiarity soothed him and the precision of the music helped him think. Bach never made a
wrong move, everything he did was part of a plan. Could he really have been so confident?
Not all of his work was so tranquil, but Jeff reserved the more dramatic stuff for special
occasions. Why had he come here, anyway? He sipped his second beer more calmly after
throwing down the first.
Well, it had seemed like a challenge, a new direction for a life he felt was becoming too
predictable. And it was worthwhile work, managing a technical services resource coordination
department that was helping to deal with the incredible logistical problems involved in
updating the infrastructure of Kuar's society to a level sufficient to support a Federation
standard economy and government. It would have been impossible without Federation
expertise, the locals had been allowed only the degree of education necessary for their jobs
under their former masters, and no experience whatever of being in control.
And the staff he had been assigned were a resource themselves, selected from the elite
class of the Ss'Rith's slaves, educated in the use of technology and even in the rudiments of
the science behind it. The lizards had not been fond of technical work, or work of any kind,
they were predators and conquerors, cunning and ferocious in battle, slow to learn and
progress. Complacent in the terror they inspired amongst less aggressive races. Jeff often
wondered how they had lasted so long. Against humans, not long at all. He grinned a
predator's grin, baring his teeth in savage delight and appreciation.
But where had that left their domesticated humanoid cattle? On an impulse, he switched to a
programme of Kuari folk music. It had surprised him that they had any, until he thought about
it. Slave populations are always allowed their recreations as long as they're harmless. And
there was no evidence that the Ss'Rith had any music at all. On another impulse, he decided
to get stoned rather than drunk. Smoking was not an option for him, so he swallowed a pill.
The wrapper promised the authentic hit of a classic hash brownie, rated at 2.5 standard
joints. Give or take a bit, contents may have settled in transit.
Foreign music always sounds weird, he knew, but if you stop analysing and let it wash over
you...
Four hours later he woke up on the floor wondering where he had been. Two or three hours
from morning, he guessed. Just time to crawl into bed.....
And woke three seconds later to morning. As he washed and dressed the three seconds
came back in flashes of unfolding time. Ferrin had been in the dreams, all he remembered
was her stroking his back and shoulder, lying in bed. What had they done? He couldn't see
her. Katri came in naked and he knew she wanted something. He couldn't hear her.
"She doesn't know what she wants," Ferrin said. "She doesn't know who she is."
It was a struggle to recall the next bit, it didn't seem to come in any order.
"I know how that is," his dream self had said, or somebody had.
"Just eat her, then she'll know," Ferrin/Katri said. "It's who you are." Jeff tried to ignore her,
he couldn't find his clothes, they had to be here somewhere and he had to get to work.
Jeff woke up. It was still early. His brain seemed to be doing things his conscious mind wasn't
letting him in on. He made a metal note to ask it later. He had to get to work. No hangover
this time, he noted. He felt oddly optimistic and didn't know why, but he wasn't going to look a
gift horse in the mouth.
Risha gave him his personal messages as he entered the office. Briefly he imagined that
they'd been delivered on horseback. Flix was lying on her back under one of the
comconsoles doing something with the optical cables, her legs sticking out, tantalisingly
spread. Jeff smiled, enjoying the view. And why not? he thought. I'm in control. Really. I
wonder what she'd do if I slipped her shoes off and just touched, tasted...