“I did not learn about a sex called Curran,” Krish replies. It frowns. “Did I miss a video?”
I bite my lip to keep from grinning at my second-in-command and best friend. “My name is Curran. Sergeant Alistair Curran,” Curran replies, poking himself in the chest with a thumb.
“Ah. Sergeant Alistair Curran,” Krish replies. “I will remember.”
“Just call me Sergeant or Curran,” Curran grumbles. Krish nods amiably.
“Is it time for food?” Zann asks, emerging from one of the bedrooms. “Davix and I were exploring the bathing chamber, but I am hungry.”
“Let’s head to the mess hall, then,” I say.
Krish is very talkative and asks questions about everything. If he weren’t so earnest with his questions, I might be concerned that he was involved in some kind of info-gathering operation. Quite a few heads turn in our direction when we arrive at the mess hall, but none of our guests seem to notice. Curran and I stand in line with the three of them behind us. I do my best to explain the process of selecting food they want to eat. The servers give me a strange look when the three of them want to try some of everything, but I just hand over an extra tray and nod. By the end of the line, each of our new friends has two loaded trays which they balance with ease as we make our way to a table.
“Humans are fascinating,” Krish says as we sit down. “So many different shapes and sizes and colors.” His eyes are wide as he glances around the dining hall.
“Glad you find us so interesting,” Curran says. “I hope you’ll allow us the opportunity to learn more about your kind as well.”
“This seems fair,” Zann replies as Davix frowns.
“Are chest lumps – breasts – a sign of a woman’s attractiveness to others?” Krish asks. Curran barely manages not to choke. I avoid punching him only because it would be unseemly in front of so many of our soldiers.
“They can be,” I reply as calmly and evenly as possible. “Different individuals have different preferences.”
Zann glances around the room studiously and then blatantly stares at my chest. I can see Curran trying desperately not to laugh and kick him under the table. “You must be very attractive to humans then,” Zann announces with a nod to himself.
Davix motions with his hands, and Krish asks, “What is wrong with Curran?”
“Many things,” I mutter under my breath.
Davix signs something else. “Is there something wrong with Curran’s genitalia?” Krish asks casually as I spit water all over my plate.
“What?” Curran and I both ask at the same time.
“There was a video in which a human was injured and he was bent over and his face skin turned darker like that,” Zann replies, pointing at Curran. “Based on his positioning and the fact that human males have external genitalia, Davix wonders if Curran has injured himself. His posture does seem somewhatprotective.” Zann frowns. “External genitalia seems like a significant vulnerability. I would imagine it is easily damaged. Does that not affect reproductive success?”
“What the hell kind of videos did you give them access to, Commander?” Curran asks out of the corner of his mouth.
“I don’t know. Basic biology and physiology,” I mutter. “Humans 101 or something.”
Zann looks at Curran with concern. “You are not injured?” it asks.
“My genitalia are just fine,” Curran replies. “Spectacular, even.”
Thankfully, I hadn’t taken another drink or I’d be spitting that out as well. “If I can ask,” I interrupt before there is any further discussion of my sergeant’s junk, “does your species have distinct sexes? Males, females, other sexes?” All three of them look surprised and maybe a little insulted.
“We are males,” Zann replies matter-of-factly. “Horns are the distinguishing characteristic of males of our species,” it – he, I correct myself - says gesturing to his head.
“I was not aware of that distinction. Thank you for informing me. If you are willing to let our medical team examine you further, I’m sure there are many more things we could learn about you.” Davix predictably frowns, but Krish nods enthusiastically. “Have you viewed any of the videos about the station?” I ask. “If there are places you want to visit, I can arrange for someone to take you.”
“Why can’t you take us to visiting places?” Zann asks.
“I have other responsibilities and commitments,” I reply. “But I would be happy to arrange for someone I trust to accompany you.”
Davix’s yellow eyes narrow and he begins signing something furiously to Zann who replies with the same kind of gestures. Zann leans forward and lowers his voice. “Davix asks how many creatures there are who you do not trust.”
“That was just a figure of speech – something people say. I do not actually mean there are individuals on the station that I don’t trust. But, there are many, many individuals here,” I reply honestly. “And I do not know all of them.”
The three of them exchange hand signals for a moment, then Zann nods. “Very well. We will wait until you are free of your responsibilities and commitments if we want to go anywhere.”
