“Would they honestly put a strike against me for healing a human who so obviously needs medical care? You can see Graven’s aura, too, and how blocked and frozen he is. He needs my help.”
“That’s none of your concern. You place yourself in danger just by speaking to him.”
Since Koviye left a few weeks ago to be with the human he loves, I am the one and only person on our entire planet with the Exstare power. An inheritance that goes back generations; my abilities to give orgasms with a touch of the skin, to heal people with sex, among other things, are legendary.
My people call me their sex goddess, though I’m hardly any different than I was a month ago, before my new Exstare powers manifested. I can just do cool stuff now and have every and any excuse to have as much sex as I want. Which…I have yet to find a limit to how much I want. I could do this all day, every day, for the rest of my life. The power—the Exstare—feels blissfully good flowing through my veins, and I like helping people. Assisting them is the most joyful thing I’ve ever done in my life. It’s my true purpose and calling.
Besides, as much sex as I want all the time with anyone? What Fellamana doesn’t want a job that allows that? It’s practically a fairy tale on our planet. I’m the princess who got it all.
But my power comes with consequences. Others, as much as they revere it, fear it, too, because when the Exstare is used for the wrong reasons, it can be deadly. I have the power to hurt people, if I choose. I can turn the Exstare outward, like a blaster weapon. I blew out a few walls by accident the first time I tried it. My hands are lethal now, as well as healing. If I wanted, I could destroy an entire city block as easily as breathing. It’s scary when I think about it too much. I have to be careful. Very, very careful.
But I can also light up and disappear. Mostly, it’s awesome being the most powerful person on the planet.
Something strange occurs to me, something I haven’t asked my father since I grew into my Exstare. “I don’t frighten you, do I?”
“Gods, no!” He booms and coughs in surprise. “I’m frightened for you. The council put two strikes against Koviye for his misbehavior—leaving the planet without permission, twice. His call to mate with the human female made him reckless with his life. One more strike and…” He shakes himself.
One more strike against Koviye, and he would have been imprisoned and eligible for execution once the next person manifested the Exstare. He left to be with his female and to go explore the galaxy with her friends who rebelled against the Ten Systems Empire. That’s why he says he left the planet, but he also had no choice. Once I manifested the Exstare, once there was someone to take his place, the council would have executed him.
The same applies to me. Our Fellamana culture is a strictly nonviolent way of living. Just taking a swing at another person can land you in prison, or, more likely, anger-management healing therapy. If the council deems me dangerous, I have three strikes. That’s it. If I go through all three, I’ll be trapped in a cage until someone else manifests with the Exstare, and then they’ll execute me.
There’s a story the Fellamana tell our children, the tale of Joyeve. It happened who knows how many years ago, but Joyeve was a possessor of the Exstare who went bad. He used the Exstare to seek power and cause violence among our people, rather than for unity, healing, and love, as is decreed by our gods. Joyeve almost destroyed our civilization, as invincible as he was. Being a nonviolent culture, we have no offensive weapons. The only reason Joyeve didn’t completely annihilate the Fellamana was because they managed to create a cage of metal, which the Exstare couldn’t penetrate: the cage of Opake. They still have the cage. I’ve seen it. They showed it to me the day I first manifested the power. The lasting imprint of Joyeve’s reign of terror remains in the form of the law where the possessor of the Exstare is the only person on this planet eligible for life imprisonment, even death.
But they’d do that to me only for something really disastrous. Like if I killed someone.
Which I would never do. Ever.
I’m not worried about it, at all. Our council is fair and just. “Do you honestly think I would ever do anything so ridiculous as to leave the planet without telling you? Really? Koviye never wanted this job. He shirked his duties from the beginning. I love my work! I swear, you have nothing to fear.”
“I do if you decide to have a relationship with a human,” he seethed tightly, obviously working to stay calm. “They blame Koviye’s falling in love with one as the reason for his misbehavior. And they’re right.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. “Koviye committed himself to a lifetime of…” I can hardly say the word. It sounds so strange and like sheer torture. “…mamo—mangymyo—”
“Monogamy.”
“That.” I shiver. “Can you imagine having sex with only one person, the same person, for the rest of your life?” I’m still too shocked Koviye committed to such a thing to believe it. “I’m glad he’s found happiness, but I could never, ever do that. No thank you!” I can’t help making a disgusted face. I love my polyamorous life. I could never give it up. Not for all the stars in the universe.
My father laughs, a big booming sound, and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “I’m relieved to hear you say it.” But it doesn’t stop him from cautioning me again. “I still want you to restrict your contact with the humans. To be safe.”
I groan and move away from him. “We need to talk about this over dinner.” I start walking down the street toward our home, and he walks beside me. “Graven is his name, and he obviously… Just by looking at him, it’s clear he has severe depression. The kind that would challenge even our medical staff. I’ve never seen an aura so disjointed. Have you?” It’s a Fellamana skill. We can see emotions: each other’s, visible on skin, and those of other species, moving around them in auras of color.
He nods and says, easily, “I’ve never seen an aura like his either, so much gray. Not like the free-flowing rainbow hues of the other humans. He must be in a great deal of emotional and physical pain.”
We walk down the street, Fellamana passing us, all of them smiling and nodding at me, many of them grateful for orgasms I’ve given them this week or in the past. I’ve had so many of them in my “office”—I have to smile every time I think of it that way. Having sex is my job; how great is that?
“I want to help Graven,” I say gently. “For the council to forbid me from healing him seems against our very creed as Fellamana to care for one another.” Appealing to my father’s sense of morality, to the council’s mandate of righteousness, is the fastest way to get what I want. “Perhaps they could make an exception for Graven to my ‘no humans allowed’ rule, because he is so unwell.”