their positions of power and their relationship meant nothing to Diem, in comparison to protecting his sister. Diem squared his shoulders.
"Wind told me that you showed an interest in Karma."
"Interest?" Phuck looked away. "I was hoping for a mating, possibly at the House Party, but..."
"A mating?" Diem's boots pounded heavily over the floor toward the Plutian. Phuck jumped backward, a hiss simmering from his lips. Diem stopped short. A Plutian hiss was a warning that the alien was about to spray its venom. Diem stepped further back, hands at his chest in surrender. "Understand my...concern...Phuck. You are talking about my sister."
"I could give you a sister, if you would need to trade."
Diem tried to keep a lid on his rising anger. "I don't want to trade. I want you to leave my sister alone. Plutians are not supposed to mate humans. It's unnatural."
Phuck cocked his head to one side. Without being able to get an accurate read on the dead space of Phuck's expression, Diem made the leap that Phuck was offended. Plutians were proud and Diem was sure he was supposed to feel honored that a Plutian would be interested in mating a lowly human, but it only disgusted him.
Diem knew he had to be careful. Diplomatic. He chained up the thoughts of shoving his thumbs right into the Plutian's sinkhole of a face and ripping the head wide open.
Phuck rubbed two fingers together in thought. "You are correct, I believe, that it would be unnatural, if a Plutian retained his form. However, you should have no worry in the case of your sister. My form is of man, as you can see..." Phuck jacked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, slipping them to his knees in one motion. Diem's hand shot up to shield his eyes.
"No, no, I don't need to see that," Diem said.
"I assure you, I am accurate in all ways," Phuck said.
"I don't need to see," Diem assured him again. Once Diem trusted that the alien's pants were back in place, he looked at the Plutian's face and caught what appeared to be molars, encased in the shadowed edges of the alien's partially visible lips. It was a most grizzly smile, if that's what it was. Diem coughed instead of gagging.
"I don't know how to say this," Diem said. "But my sister is not interested in you. It is not meant to be an insult, but human women are supposed to be with human men."
"But she is only a girl," Phuck said. " If she's known nothing else, then she would know no difference in me."
"She'd know," Diem said tightly. "You need a girl that would mate you properly, Phuck. Someone experienced. How about Wind? She wants to be Linked."
"Wind mates everything," Phuck said. "I once came upon her accidentally in the shorb brush. I thought she was hunting hampigs, but she was not. She was mating. With something that doesn't even take breath."
Diem winced. He didn't want to know, but Phuck caught the wince and seemed to interpret it as curiosity, because he went on.
"It was a polished piece from a gorne stump," Phuck confided. He rubbed the tip of his chin. "She has an incredible talent for carving. The stump was so smooth that it wouldn't rip out her guts. Not an easy feat, considering that gorne stumps have all those thorny knobs and..."
"That's fine. I don't need to hear," Diem said. "I don't want to hear."
"Alright." If he'd been human, Phuck would've shrugged, but since he wasn't, he made a glugging sound in his throat and changed the subject. "I would like to know more about the catch you opened today. How many hens survived?"
Grateful to move on, Diem cleared his throat. "Six, so far. I've put them with my sheathen, Forge."
"I don't care for that." Phuck shook his head, the black spot in the middle blurring. "You are the only one that can get near the hens with that dragon."
"Exactly," Diem said. "It keeps us all honest."
"I am no other way," the Plutian said.
"Sure, you're as honest as they
"Wind told me that you showed an interest in Karma."
"Interest?" Phuck looked away. "I was hoping for a mating, possibly at the House Party, but..."
"A mating?" Diem's boots pounded heavily over the floor toward the Plutian. Phuck jumped backward, a hiss simmering from his lips. Diem stopped short. A Plutian hiss was a warning that the alien was about to spray its venom. Diem stepped further back, hands at his chest in surrender. "Understand my...concern...Phuck. You are talking about my sister."
"I could give you a sister, if you would need to trade."
Diem tried to keep a lid on his rising anger. "I don't want to trade. I want you to leave my sister alone. Plutians are not supposed to mate humans. It's unnatural."
Phuck cocked his head to one side. Without being able to get an accurate read on the dead space of Phuck's expression, Diem made the leap that Phuck was offended. Plutians were proud and Diem was sure he was supposed to feel honored that a Plutian would be interested in mating a lowly human, but it only disgusted him.
Diem knew he had to be careful. Diplomatic. He chained up the thoughts of shoving his thumbs right into the Plutian's sinkhole of a face and ripping the head wide open.
Phuck rubbed two fingers together in thought. "You are correct, I believe, that it would be unnatural, if a Plutian retained his form. However, you should have no worry in the case of your sister. My form is of man, as you can see..." Phuck jacked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, slipping them to his knees in one motion. Diem's hand shot up to shield his eyes.
"No, no, I don't need to see that," Diem said.
"I assure you, I am accurate in all ways," Phuck said.
"I don't need to see," Diem assured him again. Once Diem trusted that the alien's pants were back in place, he looked at the Plutian's face and caught what appeared to be molars, encased in the shadowed edges of the alien's partially visible lips. It was a most grizzly smile, if that's what it was. Diem coughed instead of gagging.
"I don't know how to say this," Diem said. "But my sister is not interested in you. It is not meant to be an insult, but human women are supposed to be with human men."
"But she is only a girl," Phuck said. " If she's known nothing else, then she would know no difference in me."
"She'd know," Diem said tightly. "You need a girl that would mate you properly, Phuck. Someone experienced. How about Wind? She wants to be Linked."
"Wind mates everything," Phuck said. "I once came upon her accidentally in the shorb brush. I thought she was hunting hampigs, but she was not. She was mating. With something that doesn't even take breath."
Diem winced. He didn't want to know, but Phuck caught the wince and seemed to interpret it as curiosity, because he went on.
"It was a polished piece from a gorne stump," Phuck confided. He rubbed the tip of his chin. "She has an incredible talent for carving. The stump was so smooth that it wouldn't rip out her guts. Not an easy feat, considering that gorne stumps have all those thorny knobs and..."
"That's fine. I don't need to hear," Diem said. "I don't want to hear."
"Alright." If he'd been human, Phuck would've shrugged, but since he wasn't, he made a glugging sound in his throat and changed the subject. "I would like to know more about the catch you opened today. How many hens survived?"
Grateful to move on, Diem cleared his throat. "Six, so far. I've put them with my sheathen, Forge."
"I don't care for that." Phuck shook his head, the black spot in the middle blurring. "You are the only one that can get near the hens with that dragon."
"Exactly," Diem said. "It keeps us all honest."
"I am no other way," the Plutian said.
"Sure, you're as honest as they
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