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Authors: Tracy St. John

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BOOK: Shalia's Diary
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I mused.  “So you want me to tell Kalquorian men how Earther women think and feel?  What our mindset is when we speak to men, and specifically to our supposed enemies?  How to approach us in such a way that will cause least offense?”

 

“Or no offense at all, if possible.”

 

I arched an eyebrow at him.  “Don’t bet on it, Commander.  We women were taught any and all approaches from men were suspect.  Our religion brainwashed most of us into taking apart every instance of interaction with males, whether Earther or alien.  Men often used our fear of being accused of inappropriate behavior to blackmail us into their beds.”

 

One of the men behind me ... Dusa probably ... gasped.  Nang’s mouth hung open in shock.

 

I wasn’t finished.  “Add in that most Earthers believe Kalquor blew up our cities and destroyed our world on purpose because you are hellbent on making all the women your sex slaves.  Each woman thinks she is now destined to become the breeding bitch to a clan, which consists of three men.  It’s an idea abhorrent to everything we were ever taught.  Are you getting the picture, Commander?”

 

Nang leaned back.  He closed his mouth, and his jaw tensed as he ground his teeth together.  His forehead furrowed in half a dozen deep lines as he digested what I’d said.

 

Now that he knew what he was up against, I told him, “I’ll do it.”

 

His eyes widened.  “But you just said—”

 

“I know what I said.  I just wanted you to be aware that no matter how nicely your men approach Earther women, many will be frightened and ready to take offense.”

 

“Then why bother?”  His grumbly voice was gentle.  He gave me a look that said he really wanted to figure me out.

 

I smiled.  “Because every little touch of consideration goes a long way, even if we women won’t admit to it.  Kalquorians approaching Earthers in a way we feel is appropriate might make things easier not just on your men, but on the women you’re trying to help.”  I studied my hands, clasped tightly on top of the table in a single fist, the knuckles whitened.  “If you know our pain and how to handle it, some of us might begin to heal.”

 

Nang said, “I had heard stories of how Earther females were treated.  The tales were so shocking, I thought they had to be rumors.  We revere our lifebringers on Kalquor, and it is unfathomable that women would be handled so terribly.”

 

I wasn’t so sure how much truth was in that statement, but I let it go for now.  “Our religion made women second-class citizens.  It described us as helpmates to men, but we were little more than servants.”  I chuckled without the least bit of humor.  “I made so many vids on the evils of Kalquorians, detailing how you wanted us only for breeding.  I always found it ironic that that was our main function in our own society.”

 

“I would be in great debt to you if you will help.  What do you need from me?”

 

I thought about it.  “Can I see the reports of improper behavior being leveled at your men?  If I had specific examples, it would help me form a better presentation.”

 

Nang considered.  “They are supposed to be confidential to protect all parties.  I can remove the names however.”

 

I nodded.  “That will work.  When did you want to do this?”

 

“As soon as possible, but take whatever time you need.  I place it in your hands.”

 

I had another thought.  As little as Kalquorians know about how our minds work, I had to admit my own ignorance in reverse.  “I’ll put together a first draft.  Then you can go over it and tell me how to best present it to your men.  I don’t want them to not understand or be offended in any way.”

 

Nang looked pleased.  “Thank you, Matara Shalia.  I would be very glad to work on this project with you.”

 

I asked a few more questions, we exchanged some pleasantries, and Nang left.  I also put in to have Dusa and Esak approved for private meetings with me.  It’s just too hot to keep my dorm room door open when they visit.  All hail the luxury of air conditioning.  Maybe I’m borrowing trouble by allowing the privacy, but I think the boys are pretty much harmless.  I feel safe around them ... as long as I don’t start kissing Dusa again, that is.

 

We three had a nice day, walking around the Academy grounds (away from where my fellow Earthers tend to congregate) and talking.  I even listened to some of their favorite music.  It wasn’t as bad as I’d feared, though it was loud.  It sounded kind of tribal.  Dusa and Esak are thinking about making their own instruments and getting a
valit
(literal translation:  howler) ... the person who does all the screaming ... to join them.  They talk about how they’d even like to play for others.  I hope they do so in a closed venue.  If other Earthers hear it, they might think the Kalquorians are going to do blood sacrifices in some pagan ritual.

 

We ended the day by going to the semi-private dining room where we’d had our date.  This time we took Mom along.  She seemed quite happy she could order Kalquorian food without being chastised for it.  Esak tried some broiled chicken and gave me a taste.  It was moist and delicious, and Dusa confirmed he’d told the cooks my tip on how to not char it to death.  Look at me, I’m doing good.  Dusa ate something called grul.  It looked like bright red rocks, and the boys told me under no circumstance was I to eat it.  After my experience with bywes, I was more than happy to agree with them.

 

They have to work tomorrow, so I’ll start on my presentation.  I’m looking forward to some constructive activities.

 

 

September 13

 

Wow, it’s way past noon already.  I’ve been working on Nang’s presentation all morning and half the afternoon, it turns out.  It took my stomach growling like an enraged bear to draw me out to the dining room.  There was only half a dozen of us in there eating at that time of the day, the midday meal rush having come and gone.  So there was no P.T. to endure, though I missed eating with Mom.  She was having outdoor activity time when I checked on her.  The Kalquorian minders have their wards doing rubbings in the memorial garden, of all things.  You know, where you take a piece of paper, lay it on some textured surface, and color over it with a crayon or coal?  It actually looked like fun, and Mom showed me at least a half a ream of her work.  She’d done names of the dead from the marble, flowers, and lots of leaves.  She was having a blast, as most of them were.

 

Being in the garden reminded me of when I was here last.  You know, in the arms of a big, strong alien, being kissed senseless?  Oh man.  Now I have that nagging warm ache in my guts again.  Until Dusa, I never knew a kiss could be so amazing.  If he walked in my door right now, I’d be begging him to do it again and damn the consequences.  So what if he ends up wanting sex?  I’ve gotten through it before.  It would be worth it just to taste those lips again.

 

I wonder what he and Esak are doing right now.  They’re probably out there in the wide, doomed world, saving humanity.  Meanwhile, I have to get my raging libido under control and put my brain back to work.

 

I have a headache.  So far I’ve been gathering information and composing an outline for my presentation.  I’ve read over Nang’s reports, which he sent to my handheld with a nice message thanking me once again for my help.  He’s invited me to dinner too, asking me what favorite food I might like the cooks to prepare as a token of his gratitude.  He says they’re making a real effort to make foods familiar to Earthers, so he’s sure they’ll be able to cook me something special.  After the issues they’ve had with chicken, I’m not so sure Thai peanut noodles would be doable, so I’ll just raincheck on the offer.

 

As for the incident reports themselves, I can see the trouble the Kalquorians are having.  A lot of the time they are running into immediate hostility from Earthers, which they correctly diagnose as being based in fear and anger.  Such a response spurs them to try and comfort (once they are sure the Earther is disarmed and not a danger).  It turns out the Kalquorian idea of comforting women is extremely hands-on:  grabbing, subduing, petting, and holding the upset person close to their bodies so they feel safe and protected ... the very things a woman who fears being raped is not going to go for.  No wonder things are going badly between our two species.

 

I discovered the obligatory bible left in my dorm room from the bad old days of only three months ago.  I’m going through it, pulling passages to better explain the beliefs that shaped our lives.  You know, I’ve never paid much attention to the scriptures before.  Having them shoved down my throat at every mandatory service by a stern, judgmental priest kind of made me tune out from an early age.  Now I’m finding verses that talk about God’s love for us and his compassion for his creation.  Where were those stories in church?  Why am I just now hearing about this kindness?  The only lessons I remember hearing, even as a child, were those of how we had to act a certain way or be victims of the Almighty’s wrath.  All I can come up with when I think back to those days was how we were to follow the Holy Leader without question as he was the mouthpiece of God, or we would be cast into Hell.

 

I know the state religion had been pulled together from three older ones:  Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.  What I heard all my life was supposed to be the Ultimate Truth of God, the final word at last made whole.  What I didn’t know was that the ugliness I rejected, the fire and brimstone warnings shouted by red-faced priests, is only a small part of the whole picture.  From what little I’ve read today, there is a lot more to the story.

 

Well, it’s something to think on later.  Right now I’ve got work to do, and then I pick up Mom and take her to dinner.  It’s so good to be productive again!

 

 

September 13 (later)

 

Ooookay.  I’m not sure what’s going on with the P.T. 

 

At dinner time I went to the rec room and picked up Mom, as planned.  We went into the main dining room after I peeked in the Kalquor-friendly one and didn’t see Dusa and Esak.  I figured I could claim curiosity if anyone saw me do so.

 

Maybe not.  I followed Mom towards her regular table with the three Fabulous Ones.  Fran, Patty, and Deirdre looked to be only halfway through their meal, but at our approach they all got up and left.  The looks they gave me were pretty scathing too.  Well excuse me, your ladyships.  I guess nosiness when it comes to the Kalquorians is greatly frowned upon.

 

I noted glares coming from other Earthers at nearby tables too.  I really was persona non grata.  Me being me, I almost ordered Kalquorian food just to spite them all.  But I reconsidered.  After all, I don’t want my poor mother to catch any flak just because I’m not bigoted against the aliens.  So I ordered meatloaf for us both, the highest rated item on tonight’s menu.  It wasn’t bad at all.  The Kalquorians are getting the hang of Earther food.

 

When we stepped off the shuttle that took us back to our room, Dusa and Esak were waiting for us.  I invited them in.  Delightfully, they’d brought refreshments:  a sweet juice for Mom, a bottle of cabernet for me, and some beverage of theirs called dlas.  Mom settled down with her cup and knitting after checking her latest project against the circumference of Esak’s head.  It looks like my favorite Nobek is getting a warm cap for the winter.  In soft lilac.

 

I thought about telling the guys how I’d been snubbed at dinner, but they looked pretty tired and out of sorts.  No wonder they’d brought alcohol to relax with.  Dusa discovered one of the women he’d been keeping tabs on had committed suicide.  He thinks if he hadn’t had a rest day yesterday, he might have saved her life.  He took it hard, and Esak was obviously worried about his Dramok. 

 

The agony in Dusa’s eyes couldn’t have been more obvious.  “She took too much medication on purpose.  Why would she do such a thing, Shalia?  I left a message telling her what I told you about how we wanted to make her safe.” 

 

“It goes back to what I explained to Nang yesterday,” I told him quietly.  “We’re terrified of you and of what will happen under your rule.”  I lowered my head.  “A lot of it is my fault.  I made those vids telling everyone how Kalquorians wanted to rape and enslave us.”

 

Esak clenched a fist around his glass.  His grip was white-knuckled, and I expected the cup to shatter. 

 

He told us, “Neither of you is at fault.  Dusa, you do your best to calm Mataras, but they are too frightened to hear.  Shalia, you only made the vids you were told to make.  What could either of you have done differently?  Nothing.”

 

We were a pretty morose group except for Mom, who sat there contentedly humming and knitting.  Dusa and Esak didn’t hang around for very long since they had to go back on duty in the morning.  Especially Esak.  With those two gangs requiring so much guarding, security has become an issue here at the Academy.  He’ll be pulling double shifts for a little while.

BOOK: Shalia's Diary
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