“We’ve spent hours talking. We’ve been discovering Martian art together. It’s not a subject that he’s had much interest in before now. But I find it fascinating. So we’re learning about it together. We’ve talked about our pasts, about our hopes for the future. And I know that he’s a good man, as much as I possibly can at this point. I can say with absolute honesty that I have genuine feelings for him. If we could return to a peaceful Earth, I would have to think long and hard about whether or not to leave him.”
“That’s saying a lot, Doris. Most of us would want to return if we could.”
“I know. I miss my mother and grandmother. But my feelings for Jaxxo are real. I’ve never felt like this for anyone. It’s above and beyond anything I ever could have even imagined. My last relationship didn’t even come close.”
“That’s not saying much.”
Bethany makes some tea and sets it down in front of me. I lift the cup to my lips, taking a sip. Part of me wants to run back to Jaxxo, to the simple comfort I feel in his arms, and to that drug-induced state of desire like the only thing in the universe worth my attention is him.
21
Leaving Doris at the bridal house feels like ripping off my own skin. The torture of it is beyond words. But I must leave her for this day. The high council is waiting for my report. It is critical that we all understand the outcome of the mission. And I expect that they will also want a full report of my own experience, having been the first Martian to be mated with an Earth female.
I turn my vehicle toward the capital, and my heart rate increases uncomfortably. I should not be nervous to see these men. I trust them with my life. But I hesitate to share the private bond that is tentatively developing between me and my match.
Despite my own indiscretion, I want to keep the tender truth of Doris to myself. But I know I cannot. They will need to understand to the extent of what is possible from one subject and what it is like to be matched with an Earth female. The fate of Mars is at stake.
I disembark from my vehicle and ascend the stairs to the capital building. The dark glass doors slide open, and I walk into the sleek tiled antechamber outside the Council Hall.
When I step into the Council Hall, everyone is waiting, seated at the large round table. King Damious Girr looks up at me and frowns. I hurry to take my seat on the opposite side of the table to my king.
“Nice of you to join us, Captain Noru,” Damious says.
“I had to drop my bride off at the bridal house.”
“Is she living with you then?” Lieutenant Martix Controi asks me.
“She is. But I thought I was here to report on our mission, not on my bride.”
“Lieutenant Controi has already filled us in on everything we need to know about the mission,” King Damious says. “What we want to know from you is your experience with the female.”
I lean back in my chair, my eyes scanning the room for an escape. But I know I cannot avoid this. I search for the right words to say. I will not betray Doris’s trust any more than I already have. She deserves so much better than this. I can only imagine telling her that I discussed our relationship in the highest government meeting on the planet.
“I have been matched with Doris Gray, a college librarian aged twenty-seven. She has a vast storehouse of knowledge and a sharp intellect. Her personality tends toward inquisitiveness, although she is highly adaptable and agreeable.”
“How has she adapted to the pheromone injections?” asks Malico Ossi, one of Mars’s top scientists.
“The effect has been powerful,” I say, although “powerful” is an understatement.
“And how is it affecting you?” asks King Damious.
“In all honesty, I believe the effect could be lessened.”
“I’ve been informed that you’ve been asking about this,” King Damious tells me. “And the scientists assure me that this dose level is necessary for full genetic integration.”
“Yes. I learned the same thing.”
“Do you find it uncomfortable?” asks Admiral Raylon Bishto.
“Frankly, yes I do.”
“In what way?” asks Frazzon Rimburn, who is a great industrialist and builder from the southern provinces.
“I find it almost impossible to think clearly in her presence. I am overcome with an irresistible need to copulate.”
My frank language seems to shock the assembled councilmembers. They mutter and speak excitedly to their neighbors across the table.
“Gentlemen, please,” King Damious says, trying to bring the meeting back to order. “These are details we must know. No matter how shocking it may be to some of you.”
“Copulation is indeed the purpose of the matches, is it not?” asks Malico.
“It is indeed,” says King Damious.
“And have you?” Malico asks, turning to me. “Have you copulated?”
I drum my fingers on the table and resist the overpowering urge to roll my eyes. “We have not, in fact, copulated as of yet.”
“Have you had any other intimate relations?” the king asks me.
I stare at my friend, speechless at the intrusion on my privacy. I do not want to tell them any of this. The idea of it is like a hot poker through my gut, adding to the indiscretion I have already committed against my sweet Doris. How can I possibly tell him more? How can I betray her more than I already have? Their eyes are all on me. I have been commanded by my king to tell the truth.
“We have done things that I was taught in courtship training. And she has taught me new things that I’d never heard of before.”
“What things?” the king demands.
My face reddens. I don’t want to tell them, but their eyes are all on me, burning into my skin.
“She has… she has… put her mouth on my phallus.”
There is a collective gasp from the assembled men.
“And this was her idea?” King Damious asks.
“It was.”
“Very interesting,” says Malico, scratching his chin.
“Very interesting indeed!” King Damious bellows. “I think I would like this done to me. Malico, I demand you find my match immediately.”
“My lord, I’m afraid this is not how the genetic matches work.”
“Nonsense. I want an Earth woman’s mouth on my phallus. Why should Captain Noru get this pleasure and not the king?”
“Sire…” Admiral Bishto says.
King Damious deflates, sitting back in his chair. “I know, I know.” He waves a hand. “We must have perfect genetic matching, or the resulting offspring will not undo the genetic regression of our species. I will not be the king who presided over a dying Mars. Even if we must watch Earth’s demise for the second time in our history. How are we on the time travel paradox? Have we found a way around the noninterference imperative?”
Glad that the conversation has turned away from my intimate life with Doris, I breathe a sigh of relief and turn my attention to talk of time travel and paradoxes. We quickly come to the conclusion that the noninterference imperative is still in effect, and we should not take any additional action on behalf of Earth.
We are all eager to intervene in the demise of the planet of our origin. But the possibility that our own lives and society on Mars could be lost if we do so is not a risk any of us is willing to take.