From: elf@halcyon.com (Elf Sternberg)
Newsgroups: alt.sex,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.furry
Subject: Journal Entry 213 / 0916  [ Asking Samuel ]
Date: 4 May 1996 15:29:29 GMT
Organization: Pendor, UnLtd.
Lines: 1044
Message-ID: <4mft4p$53t@news.halcyon.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: coho.halcyon.com

Anar, Narquel 2, 0916

    "I'm not sure if I like these facilities better than those of a 
major docking facility," Tasha growled softly as she pulled the 
ship up against one of the cargo-handling stations of Terra.  "At 
least there I know I've got control of the ship, and the small-ship 
facilities are a hundred meters away."

    "It's tradition," David said, smiling.

    "Tradition, Hell," Tasha said.  "It just gives me anxiety and 
raises the dockage prices."

    "I know," David said.  He took off his headphones and tossed 
them up onto the co-pilot's station.  "Come on, let's go see what 
we can move.  We've got a hold full of mail and history.  Let's get 
it to the right people."

    Tasha followed him down to the main loading ramp, a huge 
circular arrangement that opened up onto the main loading deck of 
the station.  David looked out into the deck, thinking that 
anywhere in the galaxy, a warehouse was a warehouse.  The other 
three docking rings of this station were currently empty, a fact 
which surprised David very little; Terra was rapidly on its way to 
being little more than an interstellar curiosity.  "Home," some 
people called it.

    "Sometimes, children grow up and leave home."

    "Excuse me, David?" Tasha asked.

    "Nothing, Tasha.  Come on, let's find the stationmaster."

    It didn't take long; the stationmaster was also out to find 
them, and a few minutes later he strolled across the deck.  David 
thought the long, flowing full-circle red robe with gold trimming 
to be appropriately ostentatious.  Tasha leaned over and growled, 
"He looks like a priest."

    "Gatekeeper to the realm," David agreed, speaking out of one 
side of his muzzle.

    "Ah, Captain Elohim.  How are you?  I'm Marcus Aurelium, your 
stationmaster.  I understand you have some... national treasures to 
return?"

    "Yes," David said, feeling the smell of money exude from 
Aurelium.  "We have some exhibits from the Museum of Natural 
History in Washington, D.C. to return.  They've been on exhibit at 
the Xenohistorical Museum of Pendor."  He reached into his pocket 
and turned over a small memory chip.  "That has all the details."

    "Excellent," Aurelium chimed.  "Your payment will be eight 
hundred and twenty two thousand u-dollars."

    "In barter."

    "Excuse me?" Aurelium asked, surprised.

    "In parts barter," David replied, calmly.  "I expect eight 
hundred thousand of that in commodity items.  I'm on my way to 
Wisdom, and I want an appropriate cargo to carry with me.  
U-dollars are not accepted outside of TCS."

    Aurelium swallowed.  "I'll see what I can do."

    "Do that," David smiled, enjoying his role as a heathen.  "Or 
else I have permission from both museums to withhold the exhibit 
until such time as sufficient payment is made."

    "I understand."

    "I bet you do," David replied.  "Now then, when I can secure 
groundside passage for my crew?"

    "There's a passenger shuttlecraft every other day," Aurelium 
said, nervously glancing at a display he carried.  "It should 
arrive in about fourteen hours."

    "Good.  Tasha, please help me secure the ship."

    "My pleasure."  Katckin and Neorat turned and reentered The 
Rat's Asking.

    As the passenger loading door closed behind them, David barked 
out a short laugh.  "I can't stand these humans they have 
nowadays."

    "What does that mean?" Patricia, a human on his crew, asked as 
she walked up the gangway.

    "The groundsiders.  Even the ones who make it to orbit but no 
further.  There's something so... simple about them.  You pull on 
their strings and they dance for you," David said, miming the 
action with his hands.  "That one," he said, hooking a thumb over 
his shoulder, "Acted as if he held the keys to heaven and we were 
trying to take them away from him."

    "I wonder if it wasn't that he was faced with a very 
independent pair of 'morphs," Tasha said.  "I mean, this ship is 
_yours_, David.  The registry mentions no bank, no patron, nothing.  
It has your name and nothing else.  You don't even pay taxes on it.  
It has no AI, which sometimes screams 'pirate,' but everybody knows 
your record is completely spotless.  And me, well, I'm just 
registered as your killer tough kitty navigator."

    David stared at Tasha, then Patricia, who stifled a giggle 
behind her hand.  "You two..." he said, shaking his head.  "We have 
a ship to get cleaned up.  Let's go."

              -               -              -

    "Chico, man, you got a tuxedo to be my best man?"

    "What the Hell do I need a tuxedo for on a starship?" the short 
Asian human asked as he unbuckled his seat harness.  "I'll rent one 
someday.  I'm a doctor, not a soap-opera star."

    David grinned as he pulled the keys from the rented airvan.  
"There it is."

    "Where do your parents live?" Denni asked, staring across the 
wide grass at the enormous building before them.

    "There!" David said.  "All of it belongs to them."

    "That's all of it?"  Denni asked.  "That's Elohim Manor?"

    David nodded.  "It was one of the hardest things I ever did, 
getting away from them.  I raised every last udollar to buy the 
Asking by myself.  I had to fight with them every step of the way 
to make sure that they would let me take the Merchanter classes, 
and when I told them I was going into debt to buy her, Mom said 
they'd buy it for me.  I still have that money in a bank somewhere 
in Switzerland."

    "You didn't return it?" Denni asked.  "I'm surprised."

    "I'm not stupid.  I have pride, and I've known success.  But I 
may need that money someday."

    Denni nodded.  David sighed and opened his door, clambering out 
onto the graveled driveway.  "Fall out, crew.  We're home."

    "My God," Marder said, looking around.  "The last time I saw a 
place like this, it was in a porn vid!"

    "Why does that figure?" Patricia asked.  David debated breaking 
up the needle match between the two humans, but decided that so far 
it hadn't hurt anything.  The more he thought about it, though, the 
more he thought Marder just didn't need to be a part of his crew.

    Chico clapped him on the shoulder.  "So, you're rich, man."

    "Rich is relative," David said.  "I'm rich with the ship and 
you guys.  My parents measure rich relative to humanity.  They're 
doing better than most, so they think they're rich."

    "It's pretty, anyway," Chico said, shrugging.  "I dunno, man, I 
don't think I'm going to be a spacer forever."  He gestured, 
encompassing the building before them.  "Someday, man, to retire to 
place like this.  To have roboservers named Jeeves bringing me two 
P.M. tea and biscuits.  To put my feet up and have beautiful Negro 
women feed me grapes and roll around in bed with."  He laughed.  
"In my wildest dreams."

    "Might happen," David said.  "You just really have to want it."

    A small robobutler floated out to where they stood.  Chico, who 
had been watching the house closely, noticed it first, and tapped 
David on the shoulder.  "Excuse me, sirs," it said in clipped, 
properly British tones, "You will have to remove yourselves and 
your vehicle from the premises."

    David walked up to the butler.  "I am David Elohim.  Please 
inform Master Samuel that his son is here to see him."

    Despite lacking a face with which to show expression, the robot 
seemed to pause momentarily.  "Master Samuel has been informed.  I 
assume the rest of the party is yours?"

    "Yes."

    "Please, follow me.  Rooms are being prepared.  How many will 
you require?"

    David counted.  "Six."

    "Very good, sir."  The robot led them into the house, where the 
butler said, "Please remain here.  Someone will see to you 
shortly."

    David glanced around at the cold, white marble flooring and 
wall paneling that made up most of the anteroom.  The floor was 
covered in a white fur rug, which David remembered was vat-grown 
mink's skin.  The light was fluorescent, which lent a harsh tinge 
to the already chilled atmosphere.  A recessed statuary against the 
wall to his left was walled with mirrors which only served to 
reflect the harsh whiteness.

    "Daaaavid!"  A feminine voice echoed off the ceiling, and David 
snapped his head up to see his mother walking down the stairs, a 
long cigarette in her hand.  She walked down the stairs slowly, as 
if analyzing the visual effect of each and every step she took.  
When she reached the landing, she walked across the mink rug just 
as slowly.  "You've come home."
,
    "Only for a little bit, Ma," he said, bashfully.  "I, um, I 
don't think you've ever met my crew."

    "Why, no," she said.  "Who are these people?"

    David pointed.  "This is Patricia, my second of engineering and 
chief accountant.  Tasha, my chief pilot and navigator.  Marder, 
engineering.  Chico, ship's records, medical and science officer, 
and the best cook I've ever had.  And this is Dennielle, who's my 
engineering chief."  He took a deep breath and said, "And I've 
asked her to be my wife."

    The femNeorat turned to look at Dennielle closely.  "David, 
you're joking."

    "No, Mother.  Dennielle and I intend to get married the old 
fashioned way.  We want your permission, and I want to ask you for 
permission to do it on the house grounds."

    "She's a... a..."

    "Mephit is the appropriate term, Miss Elohim," Denni offered.

    "Carioch," the femNeorat said coldly.

    "Excuse me?"

    "We Rats do not carry our patriarchal names only.  My name is 
Jessica Carioch."

    "Oh," Denni said, taken aback.  "I'm... I'm sorry."

    "We'll have to take this up with Samuel, surely," Jessica said.  
"He will have a few words on the matter."

    "That depends on what the words are going to be," a new voice 
introduced itself.  "How are you, son?"

    "Father!" David said, crossing the room and giving a large, 
strong-looking Neorat a warm and familiar hug.  "I'm doing well, 
thank you for asking."  He paused, making the introductions all the 
way around, until he reached Dennielle.  He took a deep breath and 
introduced her the same way.

    "Samuel," David's mother said, "Surely you're not going to give 
this your blessing."

    "Shut your mouth, Jessica," the melRat said calmly.  "You 
should know by now we never talk David out of anything, so we may 
as well give him our blessing and let him be on his way."

    "And, what about having the wedding here?" she asked, 
critically.

    "Oh, sure, sure," Samuel smiled.  "We haven't had a good party 
on the Elohim grounds in, oh, four or five years, I think."  He 
walked over and stood in front of Denni.  "So tell me, young lady, 
aside from being just one more Pendorian, do you have any pedigree 
worth speaking of?"

    "Dad," David said calmly.  "If we have the wedding here..."

    "Shut up, son.  I asked the lady.  If you're going to marry 
her, she'd damn well be able to speak for herself."

    Denni took a deep breath.  "My father is Aaden Satpulov 
Shardik, a Tleil.  My mother was Rowan Masters Shardik, also a 
Tleil."

    "Entirely second generation, eh?" The NeoRat examined her 
closely.  "Like my son here.  How old are you, to be a second 
generation Mephit?"

    "Eighty-four years old."

    "That all?" Samuel asked, surprised.  "Didn't know Tleils were 
still having babies like that.  Are they real Tleils?"

    "Excuse me?"

    "You know, the first one hundred.  Sometimes, you'll catch one 
of the hrair calling themselves Tleil instead."

    "Yes sir.  Both are legitimate Tleils."

    "Good, good.  Now, did I hear you calling yourself a Shardik?"

    "Yes, sir.  Aaden Shardik is my father."

    Samuel smiled and turned to his wife.  "There you go, Jessica.  
If we hold the wedding here, you have a good chance of getting Ken 
Shardik to come to the wedding, and that'd be one damn fine coup in 
your cap, right?"

    "Dad, you're mixing metaphors again.  It's either a coup 
d'etat, or a feather in your cap."

    "Shut up, son."  Samuel looked over the assembled guests.  
"Well, Jeeves here will show y'all to your rooms.  David, I assume 
at this point you're sleeping with the young lady already, so 
unless someone from your crew isn't here, I don't see why you asked 
for six rooms."

    "Because, Dad, the groom shouldn't see his bride the day before 
the wedding."

    "Wedding's not for two weeks, son.  We need time to prepare.  
Consider it downtime.  I'll see that your ship is tended too."

    "Dad..."

    "Not another word, David.  Damn your Elohim pride, son, and let 
your old man at least give you a vacation."

    David swallowed.  "Sure thing, Dad."

    "Besides, I'll just take the money out of 2687."

    "Dad!" David said, shocked.  "How dare you access my Swiss bank 
account."

    "Son, it's my money anyway."  Samuel smiled a secret smile.  
"I'm only joking with you son.  You wouldn't let me buy you The 
Asking, and I've never told you this, but I'm damn proud of what 
you managed without me.  And I won't touch your nest capsule."

    "I appreciate it, Dad.  Thanks."

    "It's what children are for, David.  Jeeves!  Show these guests 
to their rooms.  They will be here for fifteen days.  And see to it 
that they are well tended to."

    "Of course, sir."

              -               -              -

    "Your mother doesn't like me," Denni said for the fifth time 
that day. 

    "Mom doesn't like anybody," David replied.  "She exists to 
impress people, to prove to them that even though she's a Rat, 
she's as important as they are.  She measures success strictly by 
social status."

    "Madame will look lovely," the shopkeeper standing to Denni's 
left said as he adjusted the bow at the front of her dress. 

    "I don't know," David said.  "I don't think that's really quite 
your style.  Go with something silly."

    "Perhaps a faux hoop skirt would do the trick?" the shopkeeper 
asked, holding out something from one of the racks.  "I am afraid 
that fashions for Skunks are not something we are readily equipped 
to deal with."

    "How about that?" Denni asked, pointing to a solid silk 
arrangement.

    "Oh, Madame, I am sure you would be beautiful in that."

    "Let me see what I would look like with it on."  The image 
surrounding her shifted, and instantly she was wearing the dress 
she had pointed out.  She reached up and 'adjusted' the veil until 
it was over her eyes.  "I don't think these were made with muzzles 
in mind."

    "We can shorten it until it just covers the eyes," the 
shopkeeper added.  "Muzzles, at least, we are familiar with.  It is 
your build and coloration we find unique.  Viola'!"

    Denni looked at herself in the mirror.  Although the head 
covering did tend to detract from the overall view, when she pushed 
the veil back she had to admit that the dress did indeed make her 
look very pretty.  "I think we'll take this one."

    "Very well, Madame."

              -               -              -

    "Now _this_ is decompression," Tasha murred as she hoisted the 
mug to her face.  "I dunno how you do it, David.  That house is so 
big and lonely.  After a week in there, I'm already goin' stir 
crazy."

    "But a beerfest in Germany?" David asked.

    "It was only a short hop away.  The airvan made it without even 
a refuel," she pointed out.  David noticed that her speech was 
slurring after only one glass.  He glanced around.

    Tasha had managed to find one of the rawest, crudest taverns in 
all of Berlin.  He didn't recall its even having a name; it was 
just a basement hole in the wall sequestered off from other holes 
in the wall by basic cement.  The clientele looked 
none-too-pleasant either, a side effect of Berlin's old spaceport.  
The tables they had been seated at were tiny; He, Denni and Tasha 
had taken one, and Patricia, Marder, and Chico another right next 
to them.

    Of all of them, Patricia looked the most nervous.  David leaned 
back and whispered, "What's into you?"

    "Have you seen those five thugs over in the corner?  It's like 
an infantry squad.  They're waiting for something."

    "Patricia, you're being paranoid," he said softly.

    "No, I'm not!" she hissed back.  "It's not paranoia if 
something's really about to blow up!"

    "Just calm down, okay?"

    "Look," she said.  "I'm just your accountant.  This is why I 
don't go barhopping with you guys usually."

    David nodded, patted her on the shoulder, and turned his 
attention back to Denni, who seemed to be reading something with a 
great deal of interest.  So far, they had not been disturbed by 
other patrons.

    "Oh, my God," he heard Patricia murmur behind him, and then he 
felt a tap on his shoulder.  "See?" she said.  "I told you."

    Another crowd of six men walked into the bar and began to 
approach the five Patricia had pointed out earlier.  David had to 
agree with Patricia on this count; the testosterone was so thick he 
could smell it from where he sat.  Other patrons left hurriedly, 
anticipating trouble.  From each group, one man, each apparently 
the leader of his 'gang,' separated and approached the other.  
David watched intently as the two men sat at one of the tiny tables 
and merely glared at each other, balefully.

    "You guys can sit and watch," Patricia said.  "I'm going to go 
where it's safe."  She slid her chair back and slipped under the 
table, disappearing behind the dangling tablecloth.

    "Where's she going?" Tasha asked.

    "She's convinced that if a fight breaks out, under the table is 
safer than up here."  David continued to watch the two men 
intently, then out of the corner of his eye motion attracted his 
attention.  Marder, who had always had something of a running 
battle of wits with Patricia, slipped his hands down under the 
tablecloth and just sat there, grinning evilly.  David laughed, and 
a chuckle ran around the table.

    He wasn't sure what happened underneath Patricia's table, but 
suddenly he heard a THUMP! against it, and then Marder reached up, 
grabbed a napkin, and slid it under the table again.  "This is too 
good to pass up," Tasha said.  She pulled a pen from her pocket and 
scribbled something onto a napkin.  "David, hand this to Marder."

    David glanced at the note, which read "She doesn't swallow, 
does she?"  He fought hard not to laugh as he handed it to Marder.  
Marder did laugh out loud, and then held it up for Chico to see.  
His timing couldn't have been more perfect; Chico had just raised a 
glass to his lips, and just as he read the note he laughed hard 
enough to spray beer all over the table.  "Chico!" Denni 
complained.  "Do you mind?"

    "Sorry," he said, still giggling as he wiped his mouth.  David 
glanced over at the two parties. but apparently in the commotion 
over Patricia whatever had been the problem had been resolved.  
Both parties got up and walked out.  Whether to fight it out or 
towards peace, David didn't know and he figured he never would.  
"Patricia," he said.  "It's over.  You can come out now."

    Patricia climbed out from under the table slowly, looking over 
in the direction where the two gangs had been, and finding them 
missing, stood up.  "Okay, what was all that laughing about?" she 
demanded, irritated.

    Marder glanced up at her and said "We were just discussing an 
aspect of your personal development that you hadn't achieved yet."  
Chico and Tasha collapsed, laughing.

    Patricia walked around to stand in front of Marder.  "What?  
What aspect?"

    Completely deadpan, and timed just as Chico had again lifted a 
stein to his face, Marder said "You don't swallow, do you?"  Chico 
again sprayed beer all over the table, and Patricia's face grew hot 
and red.  "Swallow?" she demanded.  "I don't swallow WHAT?"

    Marder merely shrugged, smiling.  "Marder, I don't swallow 
wha..."  She suddenly realized what he had been talking about, and 
what she had been shouting about in a tavern full of people.  
"Marder, you are dead," she hissed, then tears welled in her eyes, 
and she ran for the bathroom.

    "I'd better go see to her," Tasha said.  "That got a little out 
of hand."

    David nodded, and sighed.  The situation between Marder and 
Patricia had always been sticky, and he worried that someday it was 
going to explode.  Of the two of them, Patricia was the most 
competent at her job, but Marder was the more stable of the two, 
and he was split with the decision of asking which of them to not 
renew their contract.

    After a few minutes, Patricia returned back to the table and 
sat down.  It was obvious she had been crying.  Marder managed to 
surprise both her and David, however, by reaching across the table 
and putting his hand over hers.  "Pat, I'm sorry.  That was really 
uncalled for."

    She smiled a little.  "I... That's okay.  I guess I was acting 
a little paranoid.  I'm sorry for being silly."

    "Not silly," Denni said.  "You did what you felt you had to do.  
It's okay, really."

    "Besides, Pat," Tasha said.  "I'm the one who originally wrote 
the note."

    "You?" Patricia said.  "Oh, you just wait."

    "Hey," David said.  "You know the rules about practical jokes 
on my ship.  That extends to my home, too.  You all got that?"

    They all nodded.  "Good," he continued.  "The needle matches 
and the dozens are okay.  Tonight the word battle got a little out 
of hand, but I want you all to be professionals as well as friends.  
Marder, that's the first time I've ever heard you apologize for 
anything you've ever said, and I'm impressed.  Now, I'm supposed to 
get married in a week.  Let's behave ourselves until then."  He sat 
back in his chair and  didn't wait for response.

    Denni leaned over and whispered, "Headache?"

    David nodded.  "Little one."

    "Want to head back home?"

    He nodded again, and then he and Denni stood up.  "Look, folks, 
we're heading back to EM.  Anyone coming with us?"

    They all stood up.  David smiled; a two-hour drive just to sit 
in a bar for two hours, then another two-hour drive back home.  It 
was something that could only appeal to spacers.

              -               -              -

    The day of the wedding hadn't come too soon for David.  His 
headaches were rapidly getting worse to the point where Chico was 
giving him painkillers regularly and Denni had forced him into the 
bathtub last night for over two hours while she sat behind him and 
rubbed his back.  His mother was simultaneously ecstatic and 
annoying.  The party was already enormous; six hundred people were 
expected to attend.  Nicolette Turbane, the eldest Neorat still 
alive, was expected to attend, as well as her mate Francis Foco.  
Debra Mondino, current head of the United Nations of Terra, had 
RSVP'd as well.  And although few people were aware of it, Kennet 
Shardik would be bringing a large party as well.

    People began to filter in through the front doors; they were 
led down an aisle to the back of the house, where the wedding was 
to be held at noon, sharp.  It was already eleven o'clock, and the 
crowd had swelled appreciably.  The Rabbi, a short balding man, 
looked uncomfortable as he was introduced to both the bride and 
groom.  Despite philosophical disagreements with the arrangement, 
he saw no reason not to welcome Denni into a union with a member of 
his faith, and finally agreed to perform the ritual.

    A shadow passed over the crowd, and everybody looked up, 
surprised to watch as a small, disc-shaped spaceship came to a halt 
overhead.  It slowly descended, disappearing behind the bulk of the 
Manor.  A stir arose in the crowd still entering the building, and 
then everybody stood as the doorman loudly announced, "Kennet, 
Aaden, and P'nyssa Shardik.  Paul, Carroll, and Conrad Lewis.  
Ress, Maha, and Bawr Mahn.  Nance Narrone.  David Majors."  The 
names went on for a while, and David became dizzy thinking about 
who from Pendor was standing in the building.

    Two of the people on the list of twenty who walked through the 
door caught David's eye.  Dressed in immaculate black tuxedos, they 
were not of any species; they appeared to be robots.  One was of a 
silvery color and a distinctly masculine shape, the other of 
reflective obsidian and a much more feminine description, and they 
moved with the surprising grace and ease.

    His curiosity got the better of him, and he remembered hearing 
David Majors on the list of names read aloud.  He walked over to 
the "male" one.  "David?"

    "David?" he replied, smiling back at him.  "You seem well from 
the last time I saw you."

    "I, uhm, how are you here?"

    "The ship back there has a long-range FTL receiver back to 
Pendor, where my mental housing is.  Up here," he tapped his skull, 
"is the short-range radio by which I'm run."

    David nodded.  "I'm glad you made it."

    "As am I," the AI replied calmly.  "I am distinctly 
uncomfortable in this role, because time is compressed for me; back 
on Pendor I'm receiving only a fraction of the data I could be 
using interactively, and will have to process all of my impressions 
later.  But I would not have missed Dennielle's wedding for any 
reason."

    David nodded.  "Excuse me," he said.  "I have other guests to 
greet."

    "Of course," the AI replied.  David walked away from the two 
robots, feeling dizzy.  He was not at all surprised to see the 
Pendorians swamped with would-be conversants.  He retreated into 
the kitchen, where the caterers were busily preparing the reception 
dinner.  Through the rear doors, he made his way upstairs to his 
father's office.  He rapped on the door.

    "Come in, son," the voice inside said.

    "You haven't come down to see the guests, Dad," David said as 
he eased the door opened and walked in.  The office was another one 
of those rooms that showed ostentatious aging; lined with oak 
bookshelves, a model globe of the Earth in one corner, and a large 
oak desk behind which his father sat.  The desk was set facing the 
side wall, so that his father didn't seem to be sitting 'behind' it 
when people entered the room.  He felt it made him seem more 
accessible.

    Samuel turned around.  "I take it all that noise was the 
Pendorian contingent arriving?"

    David nodded.  "David Majors even came with them.  The Lewises 
and the Mahns are here too."  He walked over to the window and 
glanced down at the front lawn, now scattered with airbuses and the 
Pendorian contingent's starship.  He noted the Huffman aiming laser 
and its surrounding receptor dish at the top of the ship pointed 
straight up.

    "Nervous, are you?" Samuel asked.

    "Dad, why do you and Mom stay together when you're so 
different?"

    Samuel looked a little surprised by the question, then said, 
"Because believe it or not she's not the woman you see down there.  
When we're alone, when she's not fired by her hatred of humanity, 
she's a very sweet and wonderful woman."  David glanced down at his 
father, surprised.  "Oh, yes, she hates all of humanity with a 
passion you wouldn't believe.  That little secret your lovely 
fiancee' told you is what fires her hatred, and one of the reasons 
we never told you about Alpha Team's influence in our genesis.  I 
think Jessica would be happier if you married a Rat, David, but at 
least Denni isn't human.

    "People show their hatreds in different ways, David.  Your 
mother's favorite method is contempt.  When the Lord and Lady 
Elohim bequeathed us this house, your mother hated them because she 
thought she would never get it.  When they killed themselves five 
years later, she hated them because they were too cowardly to 
continue living."  Samuel looked around.  "Love is what keeps me 
and your mother together, David, but hatred is what keeps her 
alive."  He glanced at a monitor that jutted out from the surface 
of his desk.  "She must be going crazy with conflicting desires now 
that Shardik is here."

    David nodded.  "Do you think I'm making the right decision?"

    Samuel smiled.  "Yes."

    "That's it?  No advice, no words of wisdom?"

    "I have never been able to tell you how to live your life, son.  
You've never listened anyway.  You're making the right decision for 
you, kid, and that's all I need to tell you."

    "Thanks."  He paused for a second.  

    "Still want to be a spacer?"

    "Yes, Dad," David smiled, his eyes alight.  "That is never 
going to change."

    "I guess the house goes to Olivia then."

    "Someday," David smiled, then looked out the window.  "Speaking 
of which..."

    "She's arrived?" Samuel asked, rising from his desk.  "So she 
has, so she has.  Come, let's go greet our blood, flesh and genes."

              -               -              -

    David nervously looked up into Dennielle's face.  While a tiny 
corner of his brain screamed "Why are you doing this?" in painful 
falsetto, the rest of him kept right on with his initial plans.  He 
swallowed hard and said, "I do."

    The Rabbi smiled.  "On this day, October twelfth in the year 
two thousand eight hundred, I pronounce you man and wife.  You may 
now kiss the bride."

              -               -              -

    "So what's it like being married?" Shardik asked.

    David smiled, then lowered his voice to a just-between-us 
voice.  "It's a little like buying your first starship.  I'm 
suddenly aware that I now have two very difficult creatures I call 
'her' to take care of."

    Shardik laughed.  "I suppose that's one way of looking at it.  
You will take care of her, David."  He clapped David on the 
shoulder.  "I believe in you.  By the way, if I ever have need of 
an experienced interstellar captain, can I call on you?"

    David smiled.  "Sure," he said.  "I don't see why not."

    "Thanks," Shardik said, smiling in a peculiar fashion.  David 
suddenly wondered if he'd written that legendary voucher he was 
going to regret later.

              -               -              -

    Tiredly, David and Dennielle climbed the stairs to their 
bedroom together.  Still dressed in the formalwear they had 
suffered the day through, they stumbled into the room together, 
laughing as they bumped shoulders against one another in the 
doorway.  David finally closed the door behind them, resting his 
head against the doorframe as it shut with a satisfying click.  He 
turned slowly and saw Denni fumbling with her clothing.  "Want 
help?"

    "Would you?" she asked.  He roused himself from his lean and 
reached up.  "You'll have to sit down on the bed," he said.  "I 
can't reach the top of your dress from here."  He smiled, thinking 
that maybe he should have married someone a little shorter, or 
maybe he should be a little taller himself.  She sat down and he 
crawled onto the bed to get behind her.  He began by finding the 
ridiculously tiny clasps that held her top closed and undoing each 
of them.  There were nearly two dozen of  them, and by the time he 
was done he began to appreciate the purpose of the wedding dress.  
Not only was he frustrated, he was also excited.  He laughed aloud 
when he realized his hands were shaking.  "David?"

    "Huh?" he asked, looking up nervously.

    "Why are you laughing?"

    "My hands are shaking.  I can't wait to get you out of this 
dress.  I mean, I have... I can't believe I'm your husband now.  It 
feels so weird."  He reached around her waist and pulled the bow 
loose.  It fell about her, and he tossed it on the floor.  She 
reached forward with her arms and pulled the top of the dress off; 
underneath she wore a corset, complete with whalebone supports.  
David saw more of the tiny clasps he had already opened and sighed.  
He started on those as well.

    As he opened up the last clasp, it nearly sprang away from him 
and fell to the floor.  He smiled and reached around, running his 
small hands along the undersides of her soft, large breasts.  She 
sighed.  "Oh, that feels good."

    "I can't believe we've held off for two weeks," David said.

    "I can," Denni sighed.  "It's been worth it."

    David felt her body shiver as his hands caressed her nipples, 
which hardened under his touch.  Her hands reached down and back, 
caressing his knees and thighs through the material of his tuxedo.  
David reached down and found the zipper that bound her skirt, 
sliding it down beneath her hips.  "Okay," David said, "Stand up."

    Denni stood up and, with her back still to David, slipped the 
dress down over her hips and tail, dropping it to the floor.  
David's heart jumped as for the first time in two weeks he saw 
Denni unclothed.  "God, I missed this sight," he said.

    She turned around and giggled.  "That's what the dress is for," 
she said.  "It makes it feel like you're unwrapping a present."

    "Well, it works!" he said.  She giggled and leaned over, her 
full breasts dangling in front of his eyes.  "Now, let me undo 
you."

    "Do I have to keep my hands to myself?"

    "Just don't get in the way," she laughed.  He nodded as she 
pulled loose the bowtie around his neck, slipping it off and 
tossing it on the floor with her wedding dress.  Her hands worked 
down the studs of his shirt, tossing each one of them onto the 
dress as well.  She slowly pushed his shirt open, caressing the 
soft fur that lay underneath.  "David, have I ever told you you're 
beautiful?"

    "Not quite that way, my love.  But I'll take it as a 
compliment."

    She laughed and attacked his cummerbund, then his pants.  As 
she pulled down on the zipper, she giggled.  "What's this?" she 
asked, caressing the hard lump she felt through his pants.

    "It's a gift," David replied, smiling.  Surreptitiously, he 
kicked off his shoes; they hurt.  "Why don't you finish unwrapping 
it and find out?"

    She nodded.  "Your turn to stand."  David got up off the bed, 
and his pants fell to the floor; he stepped out of them.  She 
reached down and tugged on his underwear, and it slipped down just 
as easily until it dangled on the tip of his tail.  He shook it 
off.  "Well," she said, stroking him between his now-naked legs, 
"That certainly is quite a gift."

    He gasped as her hand encircled his sex.  "I bet."  He 
retreated from her, climbing back onto the bed.  "Come here, my 
wife."

    "Gladly, my husband."  She smiled, then crawled across the bed 
to join David, lying down next to him and cuddling close.  Her 
hands stroked his body tiredly.

    David found his excitement rising as she touched him.  He had 
missed her so much the past two weeks; at least on board the Asking 
they had been cuddling close to one another, even if they had put 
off lovemaking since Pendor.  David reflected with surprise and 
realized that during the entire past two weeks he hadn't even 
masturbated once.

    Denni snuggled closer, her head on his chest.  His free arm 
reached around and scratched the fur along her back.  He found all 
of the simple things about her, like her fur and her breathing, so 
alluring by themselves.  She giggled.  "I should do something about 
that."

    "About what?" David asked.

    "About that," she said again, raising her head and squirming 
down the bed until her muzzle touched the tip of his sex.  He 
moaned, his excitement erasing all the sensations of exhaustion 
that had gone with the ceremony all day long.

    A soft roar overhead told him that the Pendorian contingent had 
just left.  It registered dimly in his spacer's brain as Denni took 
all of his shaft into her Mephit muzzle.  "Oh, Denni," he gasped.

    She didn't say a word, but suckled softly on his sex, her warm 
mouth surrounding him.  He stroked her fur idly as she caressed him 
with her tongue; when she took his entire shaft into her mouth, 
down to the hilt, he moaned aloud; so many different sensation, so 
many different things to feel; the tightness of her throat, the 
softness of her tongue, the warmth of her body.  And love, for he 
did love her more than he could have possibly imagined before 
meeting her.

    She moaned herself as she caressed his sex with her tongue, and 
David looked down to watch her head bob back and forth slowly.  He 
felt close to orgasm already, but she managed to keep it at bay by 
building slowly, backing off when it got to be too much.  David 
could feel his testicles tightening against his body, and he knew 
that unless she stopped completely he was going to climax soon.  He 
said so.

    She ignored him, her mouth suckling his sex, dragging out in 
tight, almost painful suction as she pulled back until just the 
head was in her mouth, then dove downwards, taking it all again.  
Her hand cupped his testicles, and David squirmed against the bed 
as his climax drew closer.  His thoughts were incoherent, and his 
hands trembled as his climax became closer and closer.  The tension 
in his thighs and calves grew.  "So close," he whispered.  "So 
close."

    Her mouth suckled him harder, her head bobbing faster.  She 
wanted him to come in her mouth, and he wanted to oblige her.  His 
body shook, and then became still; even his breathing stopped, and 
he knew he was right there on the edge.

    "Ohhh..."  He gasped aloud, moaning uncontrollably as he came, 
shooting his seed into her mouth.  He could feel her throat working 
against the head of his cock, swallowing as thick jets of semen, 
two weeks' worth, shot out of him.  She managed to get it all.  
"Oh, God, Denni..."

    She finally looked up and smiled.  "Yes, David?"

    "That was incredible."

    She slid back up to where she had lain a few minutes earlier.  
"I'm glad you liked it."

    "Liked it?" he said, sitting up.  "LIKED IT?"  He growled 
softly.  "I'll show you how much I 'liked' it."  He slid down the 
bed until he lay between her legs.  "I should always return a 
favor, right?"

    "A good spacer remembers his debts," she giggled.

    "Damn right," David said.  He leaned down and licked at the 
soft fur that covered her pudenda.  "At least, he should try and 
return in kind."  She slid her legs further apart, and he looked 
down.  The sight of her cunny had fascinated him, and it still did; 
the pink flesh just seemed to open up for him as his small 
rattongue licked her labia.  She moaned as he found the hood of her 
clitoris, licking rapidly.  He reminded himself to slow down; he 
did have a tendency to be overeager.  His mouth probed her vulva, 
licking the silky fur of her outer labia, then sliding in to the 
equally silky skin of her inner lips as well, before sliding down 
to the musky depths of her cunt, tasting the juices that seemed to 
spill out of her.  Then he slid back up to her clitoris, which was 
budding just a little beneath its hood.  She was sensitive there, 
and he avoided her clitoris directly, concentrating instead on her 
hood and the skin surrounding it.  She squirmed and moaned at his 
tongue's wet touch.

    "Oh, David," she moaned.  "You're so good at that."

    David didn't know if that was true; sex, especially oral sex, 
was something he had never thought of himself as skilled at.  If 
she believed so, though, he wasn't about to contradict her.  His 
tongue flicked slowly against her lips, and the smell that filled 
his nostrils made him dizzy with lust.  He felt his erection 
return, and his desire to get inside her struck him full force, but 
he wanted to see her climax first, he wanted to watch her moan the 
way she had made him moan.  Her body tensed, like his had, as he 
applied a soft touch directly to her clitoris, and she gasped aloud 
as she came, moaning loudly.  "Daaaavid..."

    He smiled up at her, then without saying a word slid up between 
her legs and slid his erect sex into her.  Her eyes opened 
suddenly, and he smiled down at her.  She nodded wildly.  "Yes, 
yes!"

    "I love you," he said.

    She looked up at him.  "I love you, too."  He began to stroke 
his cock back and forth within her, and lowered his muzzle until it 
met hers.  She tilted her head to the left; he did the same, and 
their mouths locked together, not entirely perfectly, as their 
tongues wrestled.

    His hips stroked against her thighs of their own violition; 
David concentrated on the kiss, which he suddenly wanted to last 
their whole lives long.  She didn't try to break away, sensing his 
desire.  Supporting himself on his arms, their bellies touching, 
his cock stroking in and out of her femhood, the urgency of their 
lovemaking rising between them.

    A small peal escaped from Denni, her body shaking underneath 
him.  David was surprised; he hadn't expected her to come so 
quickly.  Her tongue paused for just a second, and then the kiss 
went on.  David never lost a beat as his cock slid between her warm 
labia and into her even warmer body.  He could feel her cunny 
grasping him, could feel her trying to tighten up against his 
invading sex and hold him within her.

    Denni came again, her body bucking up against his.  He slowed 
down a little and more sensation came to him.  Their kissing never 
stopped, and suddenly he felt his second climax rising.  He 
concentrated on it, and on her tongue, and suddenly he echoed that 
small whimper of ecstasy as he came inside her, feeling his cock 
pulse again, this time against the soft walls of her beautiful 
cunny.

    Slowly, the kiss ended as he pulled up and away from her.  He 
smiled at his wife.  "I love you," she whispered, then reached up 
and pulled him down against her.  "Wulp!" he exclaimed as he fell 
down beside her.  "I love you too."

    "We're heading back to the stars tomorrow, right?" she asked.

    "That what it says in my schedule book," he replied.  "Yes, 
we're going back to the stars tomorrow."

    She sighed.  "I hope we've made the right decision."

    "I think we have.  Are you tired?"

    "After all that?  You must be kidding.  I'm dead, David."

    "Me, too.  Let's get some sleep."

              -               -              -

    The next morning, Jessica insisted on serving them breakfast.  
The robobutlers brought out an extensive meal for the six of them, 
and David thanked his mother profusely for her kindness during the 
past two weeks.  They started to make their exit when a voice from 
the top of the stairs said "Wait one moment."

    David turned around to see his father descending the stairs.  
"Dad?"

    "Just wanted to give you something, David.  Don't give me that 
look; I know you don't want favors or anything like that.  But I 
don't want you to go away without something of a wedding present 
from your parents, David, Denni.  But you gave this to me ages ago 
to keep, David, telling me that you didn't want it because you 
didn't think you'd ever meet a fem that appealed to you the way the 
Asking did.  Well, here, obviously you've changed your mind."

    David took the small box Samuel held out and opened it.  "My 
Right of Replacement key?"

    "Nobody misplaces one of those things, David, no matter how 
symbolic they might be.  Take it with you; she's not ever going to 
be able to bear you children the way you want, and I think that's 
okay.  But if you ever find someone to contract with, remember that 
you're a very desirable father, a self-made success by any 
measure."

    David nodded.  He leaned over awkwardly and kissed his father 
on the cheek.  "Thanks.  Good-bye, Dad."

    "Good-bye, son.  Don't be a stranger.  If your travels ever 
take you this way again, look up your folks, would you?"

    "Sure thing.  Bye, Mom."

    "Good-bye, David."

              -               -              -

    "Rat's Asking to Antarctica Control.  This is First Officer 
Dennielle Elohim, asking for departure."

    "Departure on standard vector SLS-21 at 13:21 authorized.  
Departure initialize at 60 meters per second until plus seventy 
thousand."

    "Copy, Antarctica Control.  Rat's Asking, out."

--
"Journal Entry 213 / 0916  [ Asking Samuel ]"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and Related Tales
are copyright (C) 1989-1995 Elf Mathieu Sternberg.  Redistribution of
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Any redistribution must include this copyright notice intact.
--
Elf Sternberg            FUCK THE CDA!       (Cohen vs. California, 1971)
elf@halcyon.com          Nos numerus sumus et fruges consumere nati.
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