Page 96 of Cozy Prisons
One more turn put them in the empty galley, and Lorisum was quick to guide Hale to a table. He asked what Hale wanted and rushed to fetch everything. Hale had never been waited on before, and it felt both strange and nice.
Maybe these Talins weren’t so bad after all.
When Lorisum brought back enough food to feed three humans, Hale simply thanked him and started eating.
“Do you want children of your own?” they asked.
“Absolutely!” Lorisum said. “At least two, maybe three or four if Palathum can figure out a way to make that happen. Right now, the population requirements are only two Talins percouple, but she’s a very clever leader. I’m sure she can figure out a way that I could have more children.”
Lorisum’s response made Hale realize how little they knew about Talin law. “There’s a limit to how many children you’re legally allowed to have?”
“It’s all controlled by the Population Council. They do studies on population growth and resources and decide how many children each couple should finance through the cresh. The current number is two, but if you're a member of a smaller clan or new colony, couples can petition for up to four children.”
Hale’s growing affection for the Talin went cold. “Wait, are you married?”
Lorisum was quiet for a moment. He’d been so eager to answer until now that Hale worried they’d accidentally hurt the Talin’s feelings.
Hale leaned forward and put a hand over Lorisum’s. “You don’t have to answer that, it’s none of my business.”
Lorisum stared at Hale’s hand, as if surprised by the touch. “You’re showing me affection.”
Hale blinked. “Um, yeah, I guess.”
Lorisum started purring loudly. “You like me!”
That childlike declaration made Hale laugh and pat Lorisum’s hand. “I sure do.”
Although Talins didn’t have a facial expression, Hale knew Lorisum was immensely happy by the way his entire body wiggled a little in his seat. He slid his hand closer to Hale so they didn’t need to stretch their arm halfway across the table to maintain contact.
“I like you too. I’ve been walking past your cabin hoping to get the chance to escort you somewhere.”
Hale felt a spark of warmth deep in their chest. Although they’d been sure they’d never be happy among the Talins, Hale was starting to understand why so many humans were content.Life as a pet was safe, easy, and full of Talins desperate for your attention. This kind of life could be addictive.
“I only hesitated to tell you about my marital state because it’s not a pleasant topic. I had a wife, but she requested a separation to make a more advantageous marriage. That means I’m legally allowed to have only one child, unless I marry again. That’s one of the reasons I was so desperate to be accepted by Palathum.”
Even though there was no one else in the galley, Lorisum leaned closer and lowered his voice as if someone might overhear him.
“Not only do I want more than one child without having to marry again, but I want to raise them myself. I want to be part of every aspect of their development. I want to be a true parent, as we used to be before Monarch Revelon.”
Hale could understand the longing to raise children. Even if Hale knew at the beginning that they’d lose Dimla and Sukla, they wouldn’t have done anything differently. They couldn’t imagine never getting the chance to know the joy and love of children.
“How long ago did you guys start doing the whole artificial wombs and cresh thing?”
“Roughly 3,000 solars ago,” Lorisum explained. “It’s very much set in both our culture and laws now. It all made sense when we were a young interstellar species, but we're so powerful it’s no longer necessary. At least in its current form. But I shouldn’t lament. I’m going to be one of the lucky ones who found a way to break the law with little risk.”
“I had babies.”
Hale didn’t realize they were going to say that until the words popped out of their mouth. Were they going to share this with this Talin? It was one thing to talk to fellow humans who inherently understood how you could come to love children that weren’t yours, or even human. But the Talins had such adifferent outlook on reproduction and family that Hale knew they wouldn’t understand.
Except maybe Lorisum would.
Lorisum sounded a mournful rumble that made Hale think of a giant weeping. God, the sound made Hale want to cry!
“What happened to your babies?”
Hale waited for pain to fill them, but it was only a dull throb of hurt instead of a sharp stab. Maybe they was finally healing.
“They were Fulmon,” they said. “But they were mine too. I’d been friends with the parents for years, and when they had their twins, it only made sense that I’d move in and help.” It’d been years, but the memory of the twins clinging to their chest and belly was still fresh. “When Fulmon are first hatched, they have a half shell and they suction onto a parent. Both parents had lucrative jobs on the station, and my skin was close enough to Fulmon skin so the babies could suction onto me.”
