The Iriduan’s Mate by Susan Trombley
Two
The helmet of his armor protected Shulgi from more than just attacks aimed at his head. The smell of the under-tier would be overwhelming without it. A miasma formed by far too many differing alien pheromones, garbage, sulfur from the volcanic vents, and a hint of rotten flesh no doubt left in the under-vents by Sha Zaska’s prodigious and foul appetites lay so thick over the docks that it should have been visible.
He’d had little reason to come to this tier in the past and had only made one other very brief visit after first arriving in Za’Kluth, but he knew enough about Sha Zaska not to take this trip lightly. The thida naf ruled these crowded docks through fear—and with good reason. Hundreds of slaves disappeared from these docks every annum, never to be seen again, and it was said that Sha Zaska ate every last one of them himself.
Shulgi would love to kill a monster like the foul thida naf gang boss, but no one ever met Sha Zaska in person—at least, no one who had ever returned from that meeting. Instead, the creature worked through his minions and communicated primarily through intermediaries, usually his slaves.
Shulgi’s wings flared and twitched as he stalked over the vents that dotted the docks, past dozens of full bays echoing with a cacophony of noise as dockworkers loaded and unloaded a variety of goods in crates constructed of every possible material. The ships that docked here carried mostly smuggled goods concealed from the notice of the city bosses occupying the highest tiers, a vast majority of those goods illegal in much of the settled galaxy.
The gang boss that owned these docks, not to mention a small fleet of ships of his own, dwelled beneath Shulgi’s feet in the under-vents—an extensive system of artificially and naturally formed tunnels. Thida nafs could grow to hundreds of feet in length, with many tentacle arms to capture unwary prey. No one knew for certain what their bodies looked like, since they lived underground even on their home world, but Shulgi could guess that even Nemon’s true form wouldn’t match the hideousness of a thida naf.
Whatever he might look like, Sha Zaska controlled his docks effectively from below, and many people had been snatched through the vents, disappearing so quickly and silently that those around them hadn’t even seen Sha Zaska’s tentacles grab them. Some even suspected the monster used camouflage, but Shulgi hadn’t heard that the thida nafs had that ability. They didn’t really need it. Only a fool stumbled into an underground lair in search of one of them.
The ostensible business office of the docks contained a single, bored dockmaster sitting behind a small, reinforced window. The dock AI system did all the actual work in routing the traffic and billing, so the dockmaster clearly existed for show. The lack of guards didn’t ease Shulgi’s sense of danger, since he could see the pedestals of gun turrets lining the top of the boxy office building. He didn’t doubt more remained concealed behind the ceiling tiles within Sha Zaska’s business offices. The nuxanon dockmaster chittered at Shulgi in its language, and Shulgi’s implanted translator allowed him to understand the creature’s intent, though he would hardly call the sounds it made words.
Once it learned of the cargo that had been left on the docks for Ma’Nah, it made a series of sounds that indicated amusement, rubbing two of its six hands together in front of it with obvious greed, no expression evident on its chitinous, insectoid face. Instead of immediately turning over the cargo and debiting his account for the docking fees, the creature summoned one of Sha Zaska’s minions and insisted he wait inside the lobby of the office.
Shulgi stood inside the lobby and waiting room of Zaska’s Docking and Shipping with wings half spread and vibrating with tension. His hand rested on the holstered pistol as he faced the inner doors to the gang boss’s offices.
Discordant and terrible sounds played from an overhead speaker that Shulgi suspected were supposed to form music. The chipped and battered waiting chairs sat empty, despite the docking bays being at full capacity from what he’d seen. Obviously, few of the regulars bothered to visit this office.
It didn’t take long for the inner doors to swing open and Zaska’s minions to enter the lobby. Though he kept his stance firm, he was taken aback by those who stepped out of a much more luxurious back office into the lobby filled with grime, cracked tile flooring, yellowed walls with peeling paint, and seats covered in questionable stains.
The two Ultimen guards didn’t surprise him, though they lacked the ubiquitous network of energy beads and even the braids so typical of their species’ more civilized citizens. Their long fur hung in thick hanks with nary an energy bead in sight. Their size and relative power were more than enough to intimidate though, and the pistols holstered on their hips sent an unmistakable message as well. Shulgi knew better than to underestimate them simply because they weren’t wearing the Ultimen version of armor.
The towering, hairy beast men wore groin cloths to conceal their genitalia, and besides that small concession to modesty that not all their species bothered to make, they wore nothing else. Despite that covering, he could tell they were clearly both male, though the females of the species weren’t much smaller or weaker than their counterparts.
Shulgi could take them both out, if necessary, but it wouldn’t be a fight he’d win easily. He would prefer to deal peacefully and quickly with Zaska’s servants.
Especially since the third minion—the one standing between the two guards—seemed so harmless—small and delicate.
For any other unmated Iriduan male, she would also pose a potential threat far more serious than the Ultimen guards. The female was undoubtedly human, even though her skin had been dyed an unnatural violet color with green pigments painted over it in a pattern of coiling tentacles, marking her as one of Zaska’s “dyed flowers.” What little fabric she wore over that marked and dyed skin covered her body only in the front and back with a tasseled silken rope as a belt and glittering sandals on her small feet.
She kept her head bowed and her gaze lowered to the floor in front of his feet. She clasped her hands low in front of her. The thin, silver slave collar around her neck blinked with lights indicating its armed status.
Shulgi ground his teeth in frustration at his inability to do anything to help this slave, any more than he could aid the hundreds of others that disappeared from these docks. He couldn’t imagine what horrors this fragile female had endured at the many repulsive arms of Zaska—and perhaps within the many repellent beds of his minions.
Zaska’s dyed flowers were renowned for their beauty and grace and their absolute obedience to his will. They were also known for being untouchable unless Zaska ordered them to service someone other than him. As far as the gang boss was concerned, those female slaves he chose not to eat he kept to serve his—and only his—other foul appetites, unless he wanted to reward a particular client or power broker in exchange for something useful to him.
“Honored Iriduan,” the flower said in a high-pitched, whispery voice that he had to step a bit closer to hear, “my master welcomes you to our docks. It would seem that your cargo was mistakenly delivered here, and we understand that you are no doubt frustrated by that inconvenience. Please, allow my master to waive your docking fees as a gesture of his goodwill.”
She never looked up once while talking, her narrow shoulders high even as her head remained bowed. Tiny bumps pebbled the surface of her exposed flesh that he’d been told were common for humans when they were chilled or afraid.
He felt more intrigued by the female herself than surprised by her offer to waive fees. He’d expected Zaska’s minions to extort as much as they could from him before he had to resort to threats to finalize their price to retrieve his cargo.
“What’s the catch?” he demanded, then softened his tone when she noticeably flinched. “Your master isn’t known for his generosity.”
He had to remember that she was not the target of his ire, nor could he allow his disgust and repulsion for her master to reflect upon her.
The flower glanced up briefly and Shulgi saw her eyes clearly for the first time. They were an unusual shade that seemed caught between green and brown, as if uncertain what color they’d rather be. The dark green sweep of dye beneath her eyes and over her nose enhanced that color within them, but the golden-brown shade provided a halo around the inner green color. She quickly lowered them before he could study them for long.
The fact that he wanted to study them at first surprised him, then it deeply disturbed him that one look into her eyes impacted him in such a way. He lifted a hand reflexively to touch his helmet, knowing full well that it wouldn’t allow any of her scent to reach him. It was simply a lifelong habit to double-check when in the presence of a female—especially when something about her seemed too enchanting.
“My master hopes that his generosity will inspire you and your company to consider docking here regularly. Ma’Nah is known throughout Za’Kluth to be a profitable endeavor. Zaska Docking and Shipping would like more of your business. We are willing to work out a deal that proves beneficial to both parties.”
“Ma’Nah shipments are generally delivered to our tier,” Shulgi said, curious now about the unexpected offer, though he didn’t like the idea of doing business with a creature like Sha Zaska. “It lowers the transportation fees within the column.”
She glanced up again, a small, hesitant smile touching her small but shapely lips just briefly before she quickly lowered her gaze. “We have heard that hover-time fees are increasing on your tier, honored Iriduan. We are willing to work out a deal where we provide both docking and shipping at a price that will offset the difference in column transportation fees and still give your company a discount.”
“I don’t like your master,” Shulgi growled, suddenly far too tempted to accept the offer solely because it might mean he could see this female again. “I don’t like slavers or slave owners. Why would I agree to conduct business with such a creature?”
He didn’t like that temptation at all. Iriduan males were not immune to visual stimulation, but only a female’s scent could enrapture an unmated male. He remained aware that he’d been cured of that imprinting affliction, but not of the natural desire to mate. The deactivated genes only dealt with the compulsions involved with imprinting, not with sexual and reproductive functions. In fact, shutting those genes down unlocked reproductive functions without a male having to imprint. Because of this, it was best that he kept his distance from any female who made him want things he could never have. His mission was too important to jeopardize it with distractions.
Especially with a dyed flower of Zaska’s. The gang boss specifically used them for their allure, and Shulgi would not take part in using a slave, especially one whose sole purpose was to manipulate through seduction.
The slave looked up sharply when he said he didn’t like slavers, and he saw surprise in her widened eyes and raised brows, a soft gasp leaving her slightly parted lips. She quickly lowered her head, dropping her gaze even further until it hovered around her own sandal-clad, green-painted toes.
“Forgive me, honored Iriduan. My master was unaware of your… distaste for the practice of slavery. Many of the slavers do extensive business with Iriduans in the dreg.”
Shulgi crossed his arms over his chest, the movement causing one of the Ultimen guards to growl low. That growl fell silent when the flower turned her head towards the guard, a movement so slight that Shulgi wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t been watching her so closely, hoping for another good look at her eyes.
“Ma’Nah does not deal in slaves. You cannot judge all my people based on the repulsive actions of a few.”
Her lips quirked in a skeptical expression, though she kept her head bowed so he only spotted the edges of that expression from where he stood a head and shoulders taller than her petite frame.
“Perhaps more than a few,” he ground out, irritated by the reputation his people had earned in the wider galaxy, especially now that he knew for a fact how accurate it could be.
“Please, honored Iriduan,” the flower said in a soft, pleading voice, “consider my master’s offer.” She stepped closer to him, lifting her head to look up at his blank helmet.
She placed a hand on his forearm, and even though impenetrable armor stood between her skin and his, he could swear he felt her touch. “The potential rewards of our partnership will far outweigh the drawbacks.”
