Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
It’s just as bad as I thought. “Pardon?” I wheeze.
“The spur. It’s not a human thing. We want to know the purpose of it.”
“Biologically,” Liz adds. “We can’t figure it out.”
I look over at Niri, but she is deliberately ignoring me, turned in the other direction and feigning interest in what Trakan is saying. I’m pretty sure she’s smirking, though.
I feel trapped. I set down my plate of food and rub my jaw, trying to think of the best way to put it. Be blunt with the humans? Avoid the question? Am I offending someone if I tell them the truth? I don’t know how these people react, because their culture is completely different than mine. The last thing I want is some angry husband coming to beat the shit out of me because I talked anatomy with his wife.
“Come on,” Josie says when I hesitate. Her tone turns wheedling. “You’re our only chance to find out the truth.”
“Yeah, if I talk to my mate about it, all I hear is about how it’s to pleasure me.” Liz rolls her eyes. “I doubt that’s the actual biological purpose of it, but I let him roll with that ego-stroking explanation.”
“I…ah…”
Josie leans forward and pats my knee. “Don’t be shy. Spit it out.”
“Pheromones,” Niri says, saving me from an awkward explanation. “It’s a primitive biological way of marking a female as belonging to a particular male. The spur secretes twice the pheromones that the rest of the body does.”
“And deposits them along the hooha. I gotcha.” Liz tilts her head. “That makes sense.”
But Josie frowns. “It doesn’t have anything to do with the sa-khui lack of a clitoris?”
“Clitoris?” Niri asks. “What is that?”
“Humans have a nub between their labial folds,” Josie begins. “It—”
I get to my feet, feeling uncomfortable. “I think I will just go thank Stay-see for her excellent food.”
“Sure, run away, chicken,” Liz calls out as I head away. She’s laughing. I don’t care that she’s amused and I’m not sticking around to ask what a ‘chicken’ is. I’m not staying around for a female anatomy lesson. That’s Niri’s field of expertise, not mine. I’m the one that’s good with engines and computers…both of which are completely useless talents on this planet. I glance around, and while most of the tribe is clustered near the fire, listening to a story Trakan is telling (very loudly and very drunkenly), there are a few around the edges, busy sharpening spears or scraping skins as they listen. Stay-see and another female bustle around, feeding everyone, and a few others are watching several children at once. One human female with brown skin is busy watering the trees. They are a busy people, even on a day like this.
And I would have nothing to offer. It’s just another sign that points to the fact that Farli should come with me. Not that I’ve seriously entertained the thought of staying here. Ever. It’s an uncomfortable, chilly place, and now that I’ve stepped away from the fire, I can feel the cold seeping back into my bones. I re-fasten the front of my suit and hand my plate off to Stay-see, thanking her for the food.
As I do, I see another human female, this one standing apart from the others. Her hair is a strange orangey-red, her bleached skin dotted with spots. She holds a small boy’s hand, and there’s something distressing about her. The other females are small but healthy. This one is…not. Her eyes are sunken and her arms are very thin. Her belly is enormous, and she looks sickly. Her gaze meets mine, and I notice that her eyes are a much paler blue than Farli’s vibrant ones.
She’s dying, I realize. Fading away.
Her mouth curves in a gentle smile of greeting to me. A moment later, her eyes flutter, and she sags, then collapses to the ground.
I rush forward.
“Mama?” says the boy.
“Har-loh!” bellows a male. “No!”
I make it to her side before anyone else—maybe because I was watching her. The female is cold to the touch, her skin clammy. Her eyes flutter but remain closed. She feels light in my arms, too light compared to Farli’s strength.
One of the hunters rushes forward and snatches her from my arms. I think he’s going to attack me, but his entire focus is on his unconscious mate. He touches her cheek, panic and love in his eyes. “Har-loh,” he murmurs again. “Wake, please.”
A mesakkah female comes to his side, her face solemn. She puts her hand to the orange-haired female’s brow and looks unhappy. “Her khui is fading. It is too hard for her to carry her kit. It takes too much out of her.”
I look over at Niri.
She meets my gaze, stony-faced. After a moment, she gives a subtle shake of her head. She doesn’t want to get involved. Neither Trakan nor Chatav are speaking up, either.