Page 36 of Invasive Species
Her gaze swoops up from my lips back to meet mine. “We're going to have a race underwater. I reckon I can hold my breath for longer than you.”
“What makes you think that?”
“You're bigger, you need more oxygen.”
“Size isn't everything,” I remind her.
Her eyes go wide as the Earth moon. “Can you breathe underwater?”
For some reason, I get the impression my answer to this question is critical. “No, I can't.”
“Aww, that's a shame. Thought it could be an alien thing.”
She falls quiet next to me. Have I disappointed her? As we crest the brow of the hill I say, “Maybe I can, I've never checked. There might be a surprise in my genetic template.”
“Then let's investigate. For science, of course.”
We hurry into the water, and I heat my core to combat the icy grip of the water. She’s overtaken by involuntary shivers, as well as a quantity of Earth expletives.
“Drok na,” I offer.
“What's that mean?” she asks through chattering teeth.
“It's a satisfying phrase to use when things aren't going to plan, along with things like ‘choke me’.” My throat tightens.
“Kind of like our ‘fuck me,’ then.”
My nanites translate it multiple ways: a swear word, yes, but also an invitation. A carnal one. Not an order, no, a choice, made together.
Normally I'd do my best to stay beneath a female’s notice, but with Arra-bellah it's different. My scales shimmer to match what she's wearing, coloring me the same deep-spaceblack as her tight-fitted wetsuit. Even under the icy water I can see it molds to her curves perfectly.
“Ready? I have to do this now or never,” the tiny human says.
I don’t know what she’s referring to until she takes a dramatic deep breath and submerges. Taking a gulp of air, I duck under next to her, and then she shoots off swimming.
Following closely through the murky water, I can make out her hair blooming around her pale face. Darker pigments dust her cheeks, what she calls freckles, scattered like the speckled stars of a new galaxy, and as we race, I can't help but wonder where else she might have them on her skin.
Realization hits me like a laser blast. I'm actually interested in her. I… desire her. Me, the clone who's kept a wide berth of all females after what they did to me.
My lungs burn. I didn't take a big enough breath. But perhaps I can breathe underwater?
I inhale a little and immediately the burning intensifies.Double drok na. I stop and try to cough the water out, attempting to stand on the muddy bottom. But we've gone too deep, and I'm flailing.
A clamp on my arm makes me look up. Arra-bellah pulls toward the light splintering above me. I follow, still coughing clouds of bubbles, and burst up onto the surface where I continue emptying my lungs.
“This way.” Arra-bellah’s grip doesn't waver as she tugs me to the side of the lake. Once I get my feet under me, I wade over to the side and lift myself out, trying to swallow back more coughs. I don't want to spit and vomit in front of her.
“Get it all out,” she says, nimbly lifting herself out of the water and rubbing my back with firm strokes.
It's not very effective, but that doesn't matter. Arra-bellah came back to help me. She saw I was in trouble and she saved me, even though this is a race.
Her cheeks are pink and lips chapped from the cold. If I wrap her in my arms, I’d warm her or, better yet, strip the wet clothes off her to bare her to me at long last and see those freckled stars for myself.
My scales heat as the need becomes all consuming.
Yes. This feels right.
“Doing better?” she asks, not knowing how much freer I feel allowing this truth into my life. This desire. My choice.
