Her sudden words, so quiet that I almost could not hear them, did not serve to remedy my confusion. DidIfrighten her, or was it something else?
“What frightens you? Is it something I can … assist with?” I paused, scrambling for the proper Earth words to combat fear. “If it is a human that has frightened you, I will fight them. I have much combat experience. Tell me, Leigh.”
Her sobs became interrupted with bursts of weak laughter. “No, it’s not a person that scares me. It’s … a possibility.”
I cocked my head. “You are frightened of a concept?”
She nodded and rolled over, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Yeah, I guess that’s it. It’s not something you can fight, that’s for sure.” Her head rested in my lap, and damp tears dripped onto my thigh. “T’raat, that thing Timber gave you—thezi’in—How effective is it? Like, as far as preventing pregnancy.”
“Xalanites have used these devices for many generations. I do not know of a single failure in the past hundred solar cycles or more.”
“So … If we use it, I won’t get pregnant?”
I paused. I did not wish to give her misinformation, but I was not well versed in human procreation. More answers were needed before I could reassure her with confidence.
“Human women … they are impregnated by male sperm, correct?”
She sniffed and nodded.
“And they cannot be impregnated without this genetic material, correct?”
“Right. It’s gotta come in contact with a woman’s egg, inside her body, in the right location at the right time in her cycle, but yeah, the genetic material is, uh, necessary.”
Was it motherhood that frightened Leigh? I knew she was young for her species, but she was of a birthing age. Her body, in theory, was ready to bear children. Perhaps, though, her mind was not ready, and if that was the case, I would use a thousandzi’inif it meant her comfort.
I stroked her cheek, wiping away the tears. “Then if we use thezi’in, you will not get pregnant. They are designed to prevent any molecules from passing between partners.”
“Will it still be good for you?” she asked, her voice small. “The sex, I mean. Timber said those things don’t affect the sensations, but … Will you still like it?”
She expressed concern for my pleasure while her own doubts plagued her? How did I deserve such a mate? “I cannot honestly say. As you know, I have never mated, with or without azi’in. I do not believe it matters, though. I will enjoy mating with you.”
Leigh looked into my eyes, and the despair I saw in her beautiful face sorrowed me. I did not wish her to feel like this over a matter as trivial as mating.
“How can you be sure? If you’ve never done it, and I’ve never done it … I might be terrible at it. And if you can’t even get kids out of the deal, what’s the draw for you, then?” She blinked her red-rimmed blue eyes, pressing out fresh tears. “I don’t want you to feel disappointed or something because our ‘mating’ won’t result in kids.”
Her strange emphasis on the word “mating” gave me pause. There were so many nuances to human language that the nanites could not interpret, almost as though each individual human spoke their own unique dialect. I couldn’t fathom why she would use the word in such a manner unless it held a different meaning to her than my nanites were giving me. Was my use of the word the cause of her distress?
“Leigh, I do not understand why you think offspring matter to me. I wish to mate with you because you are a good mate. You are intelligent and attractive, and I enjoy spending time with you.”
She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Then why do you phrase it the way you do? ‘Mate’ implies … well,mating. Breeding. Isn’t that what you really want?”
Realization slammed into me as I processed her words. Her people had a wide variety of words for the mating process, some more formal than others, and I had foolishly chosen to use one that needlessly put added pressure on mytyr’il. Humans must have different relations with their children than Xalanites. It would explain Leigh continuing to live with her father after reaching maturity, and her closeness with her aunt. Xalanites love and appreciate their offspring, but rarely do those connections remain so strongly after the parents have finished raising the children. If bearing my children would bring that kind of lifetime commitment to Leigh, I could understand her reticence.
Feeling a bit wiser, I chose my next words with more care.
“I do not wish to … breed you, Leigh. Not unless that is your wish as well. I wish to pleasure you. To court you, to lie with you, to satisfy you. I wish to ensure your enjoyment of our mutual activities. For Xalanites, there is only one word for sex. The first and closest translation my nanites provided me was the word‘mate.’ I now regret using it so frequently when I did not know its human implications.”
The hitching slowed. Stilled. The sniffles stopped, and Leigh’s body relaxed into mine.
“You really don’t mind if I don’t want kids yet? It doesn’t bother you?”
I cupped her cheeks in my hands and tilted her face to look up at mine. “I would not be bothered if you never want children.” To lighten the mood, I closed one eye in an expression of human humor—a wink. “So long as you continue to want me.”
Leigh’s smile made my hearts happy. She rolled onto her back and threw off the covers with one hand while pulling me to her with the other.
“Xalanites can see in the dark, right?” she asked.
“Yes.”
