FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

There is something hauntingly beautiful about watching a ship come apart in deep space. It doesn't happen the way it was often imagined in popular media a few centuries ago - no bombastic choreography of petroleum explosions that defy the lack of atmosphere. It’s more like watching a glass disintegrate in slow motion, breaking down along fracture lines into its component fragments as they slowly disassociate and drift away, ceramic and metal glinting as they turn end over end in the unobstructed light of distant stars. The atmosphere inside puffs away, illuminated clouds dissipating into ghostly tendrils rapidly plucked away by the stellar undercurrents. It is a quiet, fragile sort of beauty, a reminder of both the triumph of human achievement and its yawning inadequacy amidst the yawning expanse of a largely inhospitable universe.

As beautiful as it was, it was a sight that I'd never expected or hoped to see, and certainly not from my current vantage point within a tiny survival capsule, one of the objects drifting somehow both slowly and rapidly away from what had once been a cohesive whole. I didn't know how many others had managed to surround themselves in such a cocoon of last resort, but it couldn't have been many - only my presence examining a malfunctioning conduit adjacent to the evacuation bay had allowed my mad scramble to end successfully, ejecting moments before the atmosphere in the chamber voided as the bulkhead began to shatter and break away.

Through the tiny portal before me, I watched the ship continue to drift apart and fade away, even as I felt the needles sink firmly into both of my wrists, and the deep, all-encompassing chill as cold saline began to flow into my veins to replace the blood flowing out the other side. The pod was insufficient to sustain life, and would make no attempt to - I knew that within moments I would be in a strange, unknown state between life and death, my blood stored away to be replaced when, or if, the pod found a place where my life could be resumed and sustained. And so I watched the ship for as long as I could, trying to appreciate one last scene of beauty, terrible though it was, before the blackness curled in around the corners of my vision and I faded into uncertainty.

—

Eventually I returned to wakefulness, my first sensation a strange awareness of the warmth once again pulsing through my veins, wondering how much time had blinked away. Coming out of stasis is accompanied by a certain odd sense of timelessness, and it took waving a weak hand hesitantly across the capsule’s small display before its contents began to sink into my consciousness, a sequence of blocky digits coalescing on the screen.

Three hundred and seventeen years. That was how long it had taken for the pod’s limited electronics, weakly scanning the nearby systems as it navigated through space the best it could on its non-deterministic drive, to have found a place potentially suitable for survival and set itself down. All that guaranteed, though, was an oxygen-based atmosphere with no detectable chemical toxins, and some signs of surface water and vegetation that could be rendered at least edible through the pod’s incorporated support gear. There would be no guarantees beyond that, and any number of potential, unknown perils, but come what may it would still at least be some sort of resolution - better to meet some fate on my feet, struggling and striving and surviving, than to drift through the endlessness of space in an unfeeling, unliving limbo.

I blinked my bleary eyes, still wavering in focus as they recovered from their deep freeze, trying to see through the tiny viewport in the main hatch in front of me. The hardened material, though, was a hazy, messy spiderweb of cracks, indicating that the capsule’s landing had been anything but smooth. The dampers that had protected me, coupled with the nervelessness of stasis, had probably saved me from the worst, but as feeling slowly returned to my extremities, so too did the deep aches and bruised soreness that seemed to spread across most of my body.

As I recovered, the pod ran through the rest of its stored atmosphere, beeping a warning before releasing a ventilation seal, which hissed sharply as the inner and outer pressures equalized. The air that began to waft in elicited a short cough from my stabilizing lungs as I breathed it in - it was rougher than I was used to, with a slight but noticeable acrid edge of bromine and sulphur, but also accompanied by something more exotic, something that smelled almost like a hint of the spicy aroma you’d get from old-Earth Mediterranean cuisine, but with an unusual accent and intermingled with a puzzling scent I’d never encountered before. As odd as it was, though, it was eminently breathable, and after a few abbreviated, coughing breaths, it slowly began to smell, and feel, reasonably normal.

The interior sensors, noticing that I was moving around well enough to be considered successfully revived, began the next stage of its evacuation. I felt a slight pinch from beneath my wrists as the needles retracted, their fluid exchange complete, an accompanying tube spraying a sealant onto the injection points as the pod made another series of hisses. Its cycling complete, the pod fired a series of electric pulses into the bolts that had sealed the hatch shut, tiny detonations shearing them along their length and allowing the entry hatch to fall away, clanking onto the ground as I got my first glimpse of the world it had selected for me.

My first impression on looking around was that I had lucked out immensely. This was no bleak wilderness, surrounded by hostile beasts. I had plunked down, it seemed, on top of some sort of raised thoroughfare, traversed by collections of domed craft that hovered across it on some type of forcefield - although only the ones in the furthermost lane were moving along, the rest arrayed in a ragged semicircle in front of me, although there was no sign of occupants behind the glasslike, tinted edges of the vehicles’ front screens. In the distance, curved spires rose up in a regular pattern, and while it differed from the way things looked on the planet I hailed from, there was no mistaking it as anything but a full-fledged metropolitan city - and, along with it, some form of modern civilization and a stable enough planetary situation to allow it to flourish.

As I undid the impact harness and sat up in the escape pod’s seat, I caught a flicker of movement behind one of the vehicles - and then, a moment later, a pair of fuzzy… ears?… popped up above the vehicle’s trailing edge. Apparently, whatever creatures had been in the vehicles had been startled by the noise of the hatch unsealing and had rapidly hidden from view. I called out to them in an unsteady, rasping voice, hoping I sounded friendly enough, and watched as the ears twitched and shrank back down a little as the pod, sensing my need, whipped a tube out to flick between my lips and shoot a jet of water down my parched throat. When it hit a stomach that hadn’t processed anything in over three centuries, though, it came right back up, but the pod kept at it until subsequent jets stayed down and began to make my insides feel the way they were supposed to again.

I worried that my uncouth, involuntary reaction had scared the creature off, but after a few minutes the ears popped back up again, and then the entire head, and another and another from behind the adjacent vehicles. Upon seeing them, I realized that I had lucked out again, perhaps even more so - while it wasn’t entirely unlikely, as it had turned out a significant minority of life in the universe had followed suit, it also wasn’t the likeliest eventuality to encounter advanced, sentient life that was within a reasonable approximation of humanoid.

If anything, the heads of the creatures that popped up looked like some sort of chimeric combination of animals: long, almost rabbit-like ears with something odd and feathery hovering in the center of the head between them, paired with short, light-colored mammalian fur and an extended muzzle reminiscent of a canine, the only real deviation being a sextet of unblinking, jutting hemispheric eyes that seemed to be almost entirely pupil, and a trio of thick, white whiskers that trailed down from where the muzzle met the neck.

One by one, they edged out from around the vehicles and headed hesitantly towards me, seeming to alternate between a slightly unsteady bipedal movement and a sort of crouched motion that was something between an amphibian hop and a canine bound executed on all fours. The general humanoid trend seemed to extend to their bodies, which were largely covered in what seemed to be a dense, complicated array of thin, loose-fitting robes, each one thin and diaphanous on its own but together serving to cover the creatures in shifting opacity. Their extremities, though, were visible outside it, and continued the general humanoid trend, albeit with no less than seven strangely articulated fingers, each one a different length, and mirrored identically on all four limbs. As I observed them, they continued to inch closer, there heads jerking about in swift movements that almost reminded me of the imagined recreations of small, agile dinosaurs, looking at me with what I guessed was curiosity.

I tried to get up to greet them, but my equilibrium still wasn’t up to it, and I collapsed back into my seat, gasping and coughing in the odd, alien air. At the sudden, sharp sound, a couple of them tucked their legs quickly and leaped, shockingly, several meters straight up into the air. The others, though, dipped their ears in a particular motion, and then bounded straight towards me. I felt a spike of adrenaline burst across my chest, suddenly fearful that I had misjudged the creatures and that I would soon meet a fang-filled, violent end. When they reached me, however, I quickly realized that their behavior mirrored the civilization all around them: instead of being hostile or angry or afraid, upon really seeing my condition, their reaction was one of immediate concern. Instead of ripping into my flesh, their hands worked rapidly over me, feeling my limbs through my jumpsuit for breaks and other injuries while peppering me with incomprehensible questions in an animated, melodic series of vocalizations that were almost certainly language.

The capsule’s systems apparently thought so as well, as a thin robotic arm jumped out from a panel and jabbed something forcefully just beneath my left ear, while another injected something, probably an induction speaker, below my chin. The actions caused the creatures to jump rapidly back out of the hatchway, conversing rapidly amongst themselves for a minute before approaching me again, a bit more cautiously this time. Meanwhile, the earpiece made a series of pings as its adaptive-translation circuitry kicked in, running through its diagnostics and reporting that it needed five hundred and seventy-three additional unique words to effect a rudimentary translation, a number that quickly counted down as the creatures continued their rapid-fire speech, poking curiously at my abdomen as one talked into what seemed to be a handheld communication device. Not wanting to seem like a threat to them, I resolved to let them continue their investigation of me as long as it wasn’t overly intrusive, and simply stayed put until the earpiece confirmed that it was ready to attempt a translation.

“Hi, how are you?” I said, not really sure what the best thing to saw was in the situation. There was a delay of a few seconds, and then the speaker attached to my jaw let out a series of trills that sounded remarkably similar to the language the creatures were speaking. Upon hearing this, the creatures all went momentarily silent, looking between themselves for a moment before they all simultaneously launched into another series of rapid speech directed at me.

The words seemed to overwhelm the implant for a moment, and it let out a series of glitchy, stuttering sounds before spitting out its initial translation:

“Eustachian carbuncle eventual ninepin elbow contusion indeterminate plenipotentiary noncommissioned to very ingrained verticopter?”

Moving as unthreateningly as I could, I brought my finger to my ear and flicked at the implant, hoping to nudge it into a more useful, or at least intelligible, state. After a few more tries, it seemed to more properly manage suppression of erroneous results, burying them in warbling static around the few words that it was reasonably confident in.

“… Injured? … pain, are … assist?” Not comprehensive given everything they were saying, I was sure, but it was enough to get the gist of it. I nodded in response, before realizing that such a gesture was probably not universal, and remembered to give an affirmative vocal response that could be actually translated.

“… We help … be unabrupt … coming you.”

I replied again, trying to thank them for their concern, and they seemed to acknowledge me. A moment later, though, they stepped aside, in favor of a new set of creatures. These ones, though, appeared to be more official, dressed more in a sort of loose-fitting uniform that bore at least a vague resemblance to doctor’s scrubs. There was a quartet of them, clustered around a sort of slab that hovered between them in a way similar to the vehicles, and they parked it next to me before carefully grabbing onto me and lifting me with their thin but surprisingly strong arms. They set me carefully onto the slab, affixing a flexible sort of collar around my neck, and I panicked for a brief moment at the constriction and its attendant worry of imprisonment before remembering that our own medics used similar procedures to immobilize people after impacts to keep them from further injury. The pod, sensing my imminent departure, expertly lobbed a field survival duffle somewhat painfully into my lap as the slab moved away, its surface vibrating with an unusual frequency. It hovered into the back of one of the larger vehicles, one with a bay that, while considerably differently designed, bore enough resemblance to a mobile medical facility to make it clear that it was this planet’s version of an ambulance.

The vibration intensified as the vehicle accelerated, and between that and the current situation, I couldn’t help but feel a little unease as the medical technicians used a pencil-style energy beam to cut along the seams of my jumpsuit and pull it away. Thankfully, they didn’t do the same with my underwear, instead waving several devices over my body that almost looked, at least in shape, like the electronic version of a painter’s palette, with indentations along the edge for the creatures to hook their fingers through. As they examined me, the translator continued to adapt, managing to pick out more words as they talked over my diagnosis.

“… Never seen one … skin along, smooth, just hair … that statistics are wrong? Liquid pressure inside … structure can intact, are masticators wrong color? … extrasolar thing, to contact ambassador … think is compatible? No to inquisit, though, heal first…”

I tried to pay attention, but as the vehicle moved on, my body’s rebound wooziness caught up with me, and the rest of my journey through the alien medical process took place in varying degrees of haze. My impression of the facility, once we arrived, was that it wasn’t wholly different from the sort of modern medical facilities that I was used to, albeit with a few differences, the most notable of which were some sort of alcoves that were adjoined to most rooms, partitioned off by some sort of a force screen that partially, but not entirely, obscured the shadowy movements and vague, muffled sounds that emanated from within.

For the parts I was awake for, at least, the medical treatment was fairly rudimentary - from the snippets of conversation I picked up in moments of awareness, they seemed to be concerned that, not knowing very much about my physiology, that they were unsure if many of their standard procedures would be safe. There was a scan of some kind, though, the full-body sort with a wand that spins around the length of your body, and after that they seemed confident enough to put me in another device, which lit up like the holidays and started up with an awful, buzzing vibration that, despite the haze, I swore I could feel rattling the insides of my bones. Whatever it was, though, when I came out of it a few minutes later, the aching, while still there, was lessened, and the contusions felt much improved. Along with all of that, the speaker felt like it had actually begun to sink into my jaw and integrate my own skin around it, although whether that was due to the device, or its own preprogrammed function, I didn’t know.

The final thing that happened before I left the facility was initially the most mysterious. One of the doctors had casually grabbed one of my wrists, placed a device against it, and injected something that left a very slight but noticeable bulge under my skin. I tried to quiz him on what it was, but between the still-calculating translator and my own unsteady state, the proffered explanation was somewhat less than helpful - the best I could tell was that it was some sort of identification, but not much beyond that. Then the slab hovered over to what looked to be some sort of loading bay, but this time I was met by a smaller vehicle with an official-looking splash of characters arrayed around the sides, and a pair of somewhat beefier creatures - beefier for them, at least - who supported me between them as I wobbled unsteadily towards the vehicle’s open hatch and into its interior.

The vehicle seemed to be composed entirely of a passenger compartment, with a plush-looking but strangely monochrome interior. Given their reasonably advanced technology level, it hardly seemed surprising that their vehicles were self-navigating. Overall, though, they still looked less like cars and more like a sleeker take on the image of the flying saucers from the classic imagery of premodern science fiction, although tapered and angled in a more scientific way to improve their aerodynamics.

The interior seemed to mirror the design philosophy; instead of the rows of parallel seating you would generally find in a human vehicle, a circular seat ringed the outside edge around what seemed to be a sort of low, pillar-like data console in the center. Above, a clear, unified strip of tinted material provided a full panoramic view.

The two assistants, or possibly guards, set me gently down onto the well-padded bench, allowing me to lean over and slump onto my side on the curved surface, before closing the entry hatch and sitting roughly opposite me, the pair uncharacteristically silent as they pored over something displayed on the console in the same script that was plastered on the vehicle’s exterior.

As the vehicle moved off towards its destination, I continued to recover, my return to full awareness and clearheadedness accompanied by certain other pangs as my insides finally stabilized enough to both accept and demand sustenance. Hoping that by now the translator had picked up enough to be generally fully functional, I asked the two creatures accompanying me if they might have food or drink on hand that could be compatible with my physiology. One of them said something that the translator couldn’t properly parse and looked intently at me with an expression I had seen enough recently to associate it with concern, but the other one brought up a report on the console, probably the medical results from the hospital, reading a few of the lower lines carefully before poking at the wall of the car behind it until an unnoticed compartment slid open. It retrieved a small glass bottle of clear liquid and a cylindrical black stick shrink-wrapped in something at least analogous to clear plastic, scooting itself over along the seat in a series of short, odd hopping motions before setting the two items down next to where I was resting my head, gesturing to them as it spoke.

“Hydration in this flask. This bar is also generic protein that should acceptably noncompete with your interior. If your internals do not continue stability, please gesture for hatch opening to avoid emesis within the compartment.”

The statement, despite the translator’s seemingly aloof, uninterested monotone, was clear enough, and my hunger and thirst overrode any residual concerns about the readiness of my insides. I unsealed the bottle and took a gulp of the liquid, which as far as I could tell was essentially distilled water, completely without taste but impossibly refreshing in my parched, post-stasis condition. The water stayed down this time, and after giving myself a few minutes for the threatening rumblings to subside, I unsealed the bar and chanced a bite of it. It did, in fact, taste generic, consisting of more texture than flavor, chewy almost like jerky in a way that I feared would overtax my weakened jaw muscles, still settling in from the speaker integration. They managed to work through it, though, and aside from settling rather heavily in my stomach, the food at least initially didn’t seem to cause me any problems. As the vehicle traveled on, I finished off both the items I had been handed, as the two creatures watched my every motion intently.

Becoming aware of their glances, I realized that there was another concern I had failed to address earlier in my recovering state. After the earlier examination, I was all but undressed, still clad only in the second-skin compression shorts that came as part of the standard flight suits I had been issued for my previous posting as an interstellar technician. While it was at least better than being naked, and while the interior of the vehicle was fairly comfortable even in my current state, being without the protection and modesty of my standard gear did leave me feeling a little bit vulnerable. My inquiries about clothing, though, were met with less success - according to them, there were no additional compartments that might contain, according to the translator at least, “intensely equitable raiment.” They did, however, mention that they would be happy to remove their own clothing if it would make me more comfortable, and the one closest to me appeared to allude to, in addition, being willing to make me more comfortable in “customary ways.” Given the vagaries of the translator, I wasn’t actually sure what that offer meant, so I politely declined, although in its reply it seemed to insist that it wouldn’t be any problem at all, and that it would be happy to help. Before I could try to decline in a way that wouldn’t offend it, though, its hands were already reaching over towards me. The customary way it seemed to be referring to, though, was to run its fingers gently through my hair in a sort of petting motion, and I had to admit that the gentle touch was actually quite relaxing, a far cry from the poking, frenzied examination from earlier. As overwhelmed as I was, going from stasis through a series of half-alien, half-familiar places and encounters, I was happy enough to let the touch lull me into a light slumber.

When I awoke from it, though, I was already out of the car, the two creatures apparently carrying me inside, setting me down onto another bench in some sort of waiting area. Overall, the design scheme mirrored that of the car, with short benches arrayed in a trio of concentric arcs to form a generally circular pattern, comprising the only visible furniture in the room. The walls were white, and seemed to be painted in random, jagged segments with what the creatures might call art, although to me they looked more like the monochrome, 3D barcodes of the type you might see on halfway-ancient products in one of the consumer museums back on Earth.

A few of the creatures occupied some of the other benches, ones with fur that was either darker than those I’d encountered before or tinged with a more auburn hue, though they weren’t the only other people there - mixed in with them was an even more unusual creature, something that looked to me like a combination between a geode and an octopus with vibrant green tentacles. Based on the other occupants in the room, I hazarded a guess that I’d been brought to some sort of immigration center, where the fate of such unexpected visitors would be decided. I hadn’t been harmed yet, though, so all I could do was hope for the best.

The two creatures who’d been tending to me left through one of the doors behind me, but not before one of them scanned the implant in my wrist with a small, hemispherical device that tucked neatly into its palm.

The task, it seemed, was simply to wait, and to take in as much about my surroundings as I could. Not seeing any other obvious sources of diversion, I satisfied myself with simply looking around the room. The other creatures, I noticed, were mostly looking intently back at me, a pair of them conversing softly while gesturing in my direction. I noticed that they were dressed similarly to the ones I’d first encountered, although they appeared to be wearing less layers than they had outside, the outlines of their bodies a little more clearly visible beneath them. Judging by a more prominently bulging pelvic outline, I surmised that the talkative pair were male, or some analogue thereof - what gender the tentacle-rock creature was, though remained a mystery.

The rest of the room, though, was far less interesting, and seemed largely nondescript, featuring the door I had apparently entered from, and a pair of closed ones on the slightly-curved opposite wall. The floor, walls and ceiling were all made out of the same hard, smooth white material, a compound that seemed to curve into itself in the transition from ceiling to wall to floor without betraying any obvious seams, the material appearing to glow uniformly across its surface to provide the room’s lighting. The only other break in the surface was in the walls curving roughly opposite to the doorways, each of which had a forcefield-obscured alcove that seemed basically identical to the ones I’d noticed at the hospital.

My gaze flicked back over as I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye, and looked over to see one of the creatures sit down next to me on the edge of the curved bench, although it looked slightly different from the pair I’d looked at before. It regarded me silently for a moment, before waving its hands in a quick but intricate pattern that I guessed was some sort of a greeting - one that, strangely enough, ended up with one of its hands on my shoulder and the other on my knee as it began to speak.

“I have never seen one like you before! Do you speak the language? Can you understand me?” The translation seemed considerably smoother now, hopefully indicating that the translator had met its threshold and would now be reasonably accurate. I only hoped that it was able to do the same in the other direction.

“I believe I can, in a sense,” I replied. “Is what I’m saying making sense to you?”

The creature seemed puzzled for a moment as I spoke, but when the translation kicked in a second later, he appeared to understand.

“Yes, you make sense. Excellent! If you are able to do such a thing, it means that you come from a modern society like ours. We have so much in common already. Additionally, you look… of our shape, which is a very good thing.” The creature glanced over at the rocklike alien. “There are many living things out there, but some make a true introduction unlikely.”

“Well, um… pleased to meet you? I’m Renford.”

The creature looked back at me quizzically. “You are? You are… what? Are you trying to call yourself, or your species?” I realized, on his response, that the translator didn’t really know what to do with proper names.

I pointed at myself again. “Not my species. Me, personally. Renford.” The creature nodded, hopefully in understanding. It made a slightly different-sounding trill, for which the translator remained silent, and again, for which the translator spit out “eggplant.”

“I don’t seem to be able to pronounce it. Is there a title I can use to call you?” A sensible request, in fact - if a proper name didn’t have a precise definition, a title might be translatable. As I wanted to move quickly past the formalities, and to the point in the conversation where I could determine whether the creature would be taking its hands off of me anytime soon, I went with the most obvious moniker of technician as my own.

The alien made another motion with its head. “Yes, I understand! The maintaining of mechanical things, of that sort. I am… person that makes bits go around.” Seeing my expression drift again towards what it had now apparently learned was puzzlement, it said something slightly different that the translator interpreted as programmer. “So, we are both technical, which means we have even more in common!” As it spoke, the enthusiasm evident in its manner, I couldn’t help but notice that the creature’s hand also took the opportunity to slide further up my thigh, its fingers resting against the leg band of my underwear.

“As we are so similar, I think that we should be properly introduced,” the alien continued, looking down towards where its hand was resting. Taking its other hand from my shoulder, it gestured towards one of the obscured alcoves. “There will probably be a wait, and I would enjoy getting acquainted with you and discovering the full extent of out compatibility.” The hand shifted upward, a little closer to my crotch, and it rapidly became obvious what it had in mind. I glanced over at it, and a quick observation of its own shrouded pelvic region changed my assessment from an it to a he. That, I had to admit, only increased my trepidation. Not that I had anything specifically against males, aside from generally not being attracted to or interested in them - after all, in modern society, such things were based more on mutual attraction than physical sex, sometimes out of necessity depending upon the other person’s genital configuration. The larger issue, though, was that male in that context usually equaled penetration, and given my body’s currently recovering state, even if it was out of necessity such an act seemed to carry an even greater than usual risk. Not to mention a potentially lethal one, depending on what particular equipment the creature had…

I knew, though, that I might be jumping to conclusions, so I asked the creature if he could more specifically state his intentions.

“What would we do? From your underwear, I take it that you are currently of a male form?” I nodded, and the translator noticed it enough to spit out a vocal affirmative response.

“Ah, good! That means that you have a… protrusion of some sort, and if you are close enough to what I think you are, it responds to touch. I would touch it, and learn how you respond to stimulation, and you would do the same with me.”

“Er… and what would you be touching it with?”

The creature looked back at me, its ears dipping into an expression that I wasn’t yet able to read. “With… fingers? When we say touch in our language, that is what it commonly means. Sometimes, it is true other parts are used for touching, but that is used for something more advanced than a first introduction, as it is more often a configuration prepared in advance. A first introduction is about learning and exploration, to know someone by discovering what brings them pleasure.”

I tried to keep my composure, despite being a little taken aback. I knew, of course, that there were a wide variety of alien cultures, with huge variations in customs and rituals. I was mostly used to the common codes of spacefaring conduct, which tried to create broadly uniform sets of acceptable behaviors across cultures. For some creatures, their natural inclination about sex was so casual that it bore hardly more significance than a handshake; for others, of course, the proper greeting for unknown interlocutors was to cook them up in a stew and see if what resulted was poisonous to them or not. I supposed that I should be thankful that the culture I was currently in was closer to the former than the latter, at least if the creature sitting next to me was indicative of their socially acceptable behavior, but it was still a little disconcerting. Even on the few occasions I’d imagined making first contact with a hitherto-unknown species, it generally hadn’t involved mutual handjobs.

The creature’s hand returned from its gesticulating, this time brushing its fingers across my face. It was a strange sensation, and one I hadn’t felt clearly from the earlier petting. The outside of the creature’s fingers were furry, like the rest of it, but the interior seemed to be a little closer to skin, although it felt more like a strange combination of leather and felt, smooth and weighty but with an unusual texture, and a far fainter hint of warmth beneath.

“You are quite interesting, are you not? You have hair, but the skin on your face is smooth. That only makes it more interesting to explore the part of you that is currently hidden…” The creature’s other hand moved further upward, gently cupping the pouch of my form-fitting shorts, and to my surprise I could feel myself begin to stir beneath his hand. I actually felt an odd sense of relief that I’d at least recovered enough to have that sort of response, but I still wasn’t quite sure how to feel in the current situation. Was it really acceptable to just go into an alcove and just start… touching each other? Was it even something I wanted to happen? I knew that ultimately, my survival on the planet was probably contingent on accepting the current culture, but things seemed to be happening too quickly - at least for two people who were both ostensibly sober.

Before I had to make a decision either way, though, the situation was mercifully interrupted as another of the creatures walked up, wearing a garment that seemed adorned with a little more in the way of ornamentation than what the other one was wearing.

“The ambassador will see you now,” it intoned, before turning on its heel. It walked a few steps away, but then paused, turning its head back in my direction and seeming to gesture with its muzzle that I was to follow it. Thankful for the intervention, I got up, hastily saying my goodbyes to the other creature.

“It was nice to almost meet you,” it said as I walked away. “I will likely be here for a while, so if I am here when you are done with your meeting, I will seek you out again. I would very much like to finish making our introductions.”

I followed the other creature, presumably a secretary of some sort, through the waiting room’s other door and into a surprisingly normal-looking, if spartan, office. There was a low, squared-off desk that looked to be made of a polished black plastic-like material, a pair of chairs with circular bases and padded, open frames instead of full seatbacks, and a black fabric-covered low couch off to the side. Again, like the other room, there was little else available, aside from a small door on the other side through which the secretary exited, and two circles of grey metal inset into the ceiling above each of the chairs. The rest of the walls, though, were a uniform white, without even the monochrome adornments of the waiting room.

The person I was to meet, who I assumed was an ambassador of some sort, was already seated behind the desk, gesturing for me to take one of the chairs on the opposite side. Its fur color was a little more vivid, somewhere between auburn and orange, which only accentuated the foxlike appearance of its long, narrow muzzle. Combined with the eyes and ears, though, the appearance was still a little disconcerting, especially since it made basic expressions harder to determine. The ears, at least, were expressive, and I knew enough from my previous encounter to guess that the current display meant something related to either greeting or happiness.

The creature spoke, and after a moment of crackling the translator kicked in, first giving a confirmatory beep that I hoped meant it had moved to the next stage of smoothness in translation.

“Welcome! It is always an interesting event when there is a visitor of a new species to our planet.” It followed with what I guessed was the planet name, but the closest the translator could come up with was ‘kookaburra.’

“It is especially interesting when a new visitor appears with such a high level of projected compatibility,” the creature continued. “While immigrants from nearby systems often bear similar forms, others who visit may not, and due to their differences they can have a hard time interfacing with our society. As a result, many of them do not stay long, and are not offered a place here. Someone like you, though, both compatible and from the untraveled beyond, are a rarity - I have been the extra-planetary ambassador for this city for many years, and this is only the second such event.”

The ambassador pressed something on the desk, and a small screen angled up from the flat surface. I could only see part of it, and what I could see was more of the same undecipherable alien characters. “According to the medical staff, biocompatibility is generally good, with no detectable surface cross-toxins or other contaminations, and no obvious issues with our own biology. You are also free of diseases that could be potentially transferable, and in overall generally good health after our intervention. All in all, you seem to be an excellent candidate.”

The ambassador stood up from its chair, and I noticed as he did that his robes shifted in hue as they moved, from diaphanous white to a deep, oceanic blue. It meant nothing to me at the time, but I would later come to realize that it such embellishments were part of the standard dress for most higher-ranking officials. “Please stand, if you would,” the ambassador said, and I complied, glancing down at myself and still feeling quite underdressed in comparison.

“Yes, yes, quite intriguing… just a bit of light hair, and so much exposed skin, really something of a rarity indeed. Is it particularly sensitive?”

“Um… I guess?” I replied, having never really thought about it that much.

“Probably more so than with fur, in any case,” the ambassador replied, glancing down at the screen. “Your physical sex appears to be male. Tell me, is that your permanent form?”

I looked over at the ambassador, slightly surprised. After all, if you had to ask that question, then it stood to reason that for your own species it wasn’t quite as defined. “Yes, I have always been male.”

“Ah, interesting too, although not that uncommon. For us, we often feel that it is better to experiment, as our own physical forms have the capability to do, eventually to the point of direct selection made possible by technology. It may not be the same for you, but our physical sex is something that can be chosen by ingesting an activator at night and is then available the next morning. Being one with a generally fixed sex, it is probably important for you to know this, as there are several configurations you may encounter - there are four specific traditional configurations, although two are usually only used for a specific stage of reproduction, and many other configurations have been adapted from other species to aid our experimentation and pleasure. Some also choose to possess aspects of both physical types, while others simply choose a single, uniform erogenous zone with no extensions or openings. In your species, do you have these other types, or only a direct sexual dimorphism - male and female?”

“In rare cases, there are some with both or things intermixed, but… usually just two physical sexes,” I replied, suddenly wondering just what, exactly, the ambassador might be concealing beneath its robes - like the one from before, from what I could tell it appeared to be male, but now I wasn’t so sure.

“Okay, a simple configuration, then. It should mean that being here will be especially exciting for you, if you have not experienced many of these things before. It is always good to expand one’s range of experiences.” The ambassador looked back up at me. “All right, I would like to have a look at it now.”

“Look at it? Look at what?”

The ambassador gestured towards the front of my underwear. “Your male aspect, of course. I have the scans, but I would like to judge its compatibility for myself. Please lower your… what do you call that garment?”

“Underwear?”

“Below wear… yes, please move it to a configuration that does not obscure your maleness.”

I hesitated for a moment - judging from the forwardness I’d seen thus far, the ambassador’s request was probably considered normal, but my own upbringing meant that I was again faced with an uncomfortable request. On the other hand, considering that the ambassador probably had the power to decide my ultimate location on this planet, between being able to recover and figure out some existence here that might lead to eventual passage back to my own people, or potentially being detained or deported somewhere else, well… it seemed wisest to comply, no matter how uncomfortable it felt. Sighing, I tugged my boxer briefs down until they bunched up just below my knees, putting my flaccid member on display and feeling the slightly cool air keenly against it.

“Oh, a traditional sort of shape… simple, but quite elegant! It’s even closer to one of the customary types than I would have imagined. Tell me, when you are preparing for the act, does it expand or straighten, or does it go in just like that?”

“Er, well… for that, yeah, it becomes hard and longer, we call it getting an erection…”

“So, similar enough, although as with the rest of you even such parts are not so sheltered or protected, but just hanging right there for everyone to see. I can understand why you would wear a… garment that goes underneath, like that, to protect what your body does not. Regardless of that, you compatibility is indeed excellent! I would need to see it… erected, as you say, to judge how it would fully interface with one in a female form, but we can take care of that in a moment. You can return your underneath garment for now.” I complied, as quickly as I possibly could. “Good. Now extent your hand, please, the one with the imprint on it.”

I looked down at my wrist, the one that had been injected, and I noticed that whatever had been subcutaneously implanter had surreptitiously expanded into a series of thin, grey filaments that rested just below the surface, curled into a design faintly reminiscent of the wall art from before. I proffered that hand, and the ambassador gently took hold of my wrist, guiding it over the screen. There was a faint, mechanical beep, and for a brief moment, the filaments glowed through my skin with a vivid burst of light, strobing briefly between red, green, blue and white before rapidly fading. The machine beeped again, and the ambassador’s ears waved with what I thought might have been enthusiasm.

“Oh… one more question. From what I can tell about you, I doubt it’s a problem, but what is your intent on this planet? Anything troublesome, or warlike?”

I explained, quickly, my situation: the destruction of my ship, the escape pod trying to locate a survivable place, my thankfulness to simply be alive and able to function there.

“Ah, a refugee! A noble reason for being here, and one that we support - finding a new life in our society for those who are adrift in such a way is one of our basic tenets of responsibility. Right, then, it’s all settled.” He pressed something on the display, and it beeped once again, with a slightly more complex trill that went up sharply before fading into inaudibility. “Your registration is now complete and as long as you meet one further aspect required of being a citizen, you will have a place among us.”

He turned away, gesturing to the couch. “As for taking care of that remaining aspect of citizenship… I think the most expedient way to do that would be to introduce ourselves.”

I glanced over at the couch, thinking of what the creature had said in the waiting room. “Wait… by introduce yourself, you don’t mean… are you talking about touching me? Touching, I mean… my, um, genitals?”

The ambassador’s ears dipped in the way that I now was fairly sure meant assent. “Is that not how you normally introduce yourself? Most nearby cultures do something similar… but that is true, I am already forgetting that you are from the beyond! You seem so compatible that it’s easy to assume that you’re more familiar with us than you probably are. Yes, then, that is what we mean by introduction - pleasure and stimulation are an essential part of interacting within our culture, and it is with that greeting that we can become accustomed to each other and create a bond of the sort that helps to bring our society together. Ah, but perhaps you are worried that such a thing will not be mutual? And after the medical exams… I can assure you that this will not be a clinical investigation, simply a social one, and that you will be able to use your hands to explore me as your curiosity desires.”

Not quite what I was going for, really… “um… and if I don’t want to?”

The ambassador cocked his head, but his expression didn’t seem to be angry… maybe concerned? It was hard to tell, with those six blank, black eyes staring back at me. “Oh, are you feeling unwell?”

“No, I feel fine, it’s just…”

“Hmm… is it possible that the culture you come from practices that relentless trait of… what is it considered to be… modesty?”

“Yeah… something like that…”

“Ah, then I think we can probably get around that. As you can see, we do have a version of that, and use our type of clothing to provide some concealment when engaged in general interactions, and there are special places set aside where a group of people who have arranged to provide each other with mutual pleasure can do so separated from those interactions that do not involve such stimulation. I know that there is not one here, but this is a private office, and I find the couch a little more comfortable for introductions. I can assure you that no one will interrupt us. And as I mentioned earlier, we are externally compatible, which should be more than enough for basic introductions. Furthermore, my fingers are of sufficient dexterity that they can provide the necessary amount of tactile stimulation, no matter your level of sensitivity. So, as you can see, there are no barriers to prevent us from being properly introduced.” The ambassador gestured once again at the couch. “Remember, as I stated before, that the actions of my introduction will be entirely in the service of your pleasure, and you will have the honor of learning my own.”

I glanced over at the couch again. I had to say, the notion of having the alien’s multitude of spindly fingers playing over my crotch didn’t exactly sound like the greatest time in the world. Then again, I did have to admit that it actually wasn’t, by far, the weirdest thing I’d ever done with an alien, although this would be the first that wasn’t facilitated by an intoxicant of some form or other. And it sure beat getting shot, or lasered, or explosively decompressed into a vacuum, or a hundred other awful fates that were probably more likely once my survival pod had shot away into the great unknown. If getting felt up by an alien was the price I had to pay for lucking into an existence where I could do far more than just survive at the most basic level, as strange as it was, it actually felt like a fairly small one to pay. Still, it took me a moment to get up the strength to agree to it.

“Sure… why not?”

“Precisely. There is no reason not to, and therefore we should begin our introductions.”

The ambassador walked over and sat down on the couch, scooting over along its length to sit close beside me as soon as I joined him. He was close enough that we were practically touching at the hip, and I could feel the folds of his unusual, diaphanous garment rustling against my thigh. The sensation was soon joined by that of his hand, but instead of lingering like that of the creature from before, this one quickly found its way to the waistband of my underwear, tugging down on the front until I was once again exposed. With his other, though, he did something intricate to the arrangement of his garment, and a moment later the robes seemed to part down the center at the waist and slide off to either side, revealing the alien’s own nether region.

Following along from my earlier observations, in that respect he also seemed somewhat canine in nature, at least from the initial inspection - rather than a naked scrotum, there was an actual sort of sheath that protruded at a particular angle from his pelvis, covered in a shorter, more tightly-packed variant of his fur. If the things slightly below were its testicles, though, they were a significant departure from the ones I was used to: five of them, arrayed in a slight arc, hemispheres protruding only partly from the interior and covered in a slightly darker variant of fur. Within the sheath, though, the tip and shaft that were gradually beginning to emerge were an uncharacteristically vibrant sort of blue, almost as though someone had taken the color of the alien’s fur and inverted it. While it was certainly curious, I realized how true his earlier comments were - while the tip was a little more prominently pointed, and the ridge a little wider, it bore far more of a resemblance to my own, in general shape at least, than most of the other species that I had encountered.

“Do you find what you see interesting?”

I looked up to see him staring back at me with what I guessed was enthusiasm, at least as much as I could tell from his unblinking visage.

“Well, it’s both similar and different, although…”

“Although?”

“I’ve been with guys on extreme occasion, but most of my experience has been with more… female configurations. It just feels a little awkward, is all. I know you need me to do this, for whatever reason, but… should I just reach out and grab onto it? Are there certain parts I should or shouldn’t touch? Even if it looks kind of the same, I don’t know what actually feels good for you, and I don’t want to do the wrong things…”

The ambassador did something intricate and unusual with his ears, which I wasn’t quite able to interpret, but his reply was at least clear enough. “I think you misunderstand. I anticipate that we will both do things that are not optimal, especially at first. That is the nature of exploration, is it not? It is those unconventional things, things that may not always work, but in doing things differently perhaps new types of pleasure can be discovered that had not been thought of before by our species. You should therefore explore and experiment, in the idea that what may seem to be a failure now can lead to an innovation in the future. I am quite certain that neither of us can be harmed by this level of interaction, so do what you find interesting. And tell me… do you ever perform this tactile stimulation on your own configuration?”

“When I don’t have a partner to be with, then… yes, sometimes.”

“Ah, excellent! Then perhaps you would consider using the techniques that bring you pleasure on my current configuration, in the hopes that it might encourage new forms of enjoyment that I can learn and then share with others. Would that be an acceptable thing for you to try?”

“Yeah, sure…” Not that what I usually did was all that complicated, but as long he found it acceptable enough…

“Good. Then perhaps I will do the same for you.” He gestured down at his sheath, and the penis that I suspected was now close to being fully emerged - his interest was obvious, even if the awkwardness and limited attraction of the situation had kept me mostly flaccid. “In case you were waiting for a statement that we should begin, I am now offering it. You may start your explorations whenever you are ready, and once you have started, I will begin my own.”

That was it, then - just show him how I went at it? Well, if that’s what he wanted, then that’s what I would do, although it wasn’t like I’d developed some particularly advanced technique: just slapped on some hand lotion, grabbed my dick, and stroked up and down until I was done. There wasn’t any lotion on hand, though, but perhaps it wasn’t necessary - like my own circumcised penis, there didn’t seem to be anything like foreskin that might be unusually delicate, and I’d certainly done it dry myself, albeit with a lighter grip, when there hadn’t been anything else immediately at hand.

Nothing to be done for it then but to try, I supposed, so I reached over and tentatively wrapped my hands around his shaft. The first thing I noticed was how warm it was, not quite enough to feel hot or painful to the touch, but certainly more intense than my own. The ambassador seemed to find the contact intense in his own way, though, as I heard him take a sudden, sharp breath, and his ears dipped and twirled into a state that I hadn’t seen before.

“Hmm… what a fascinating sensation! Indeed, your touch is not quite like anything I have felt before. I am fascinated to feel it in motion… oh, but I can’t become so lost in that new sensation that I neglect your own. Here, let me show you how we feel…”

I watched as he reached over, feeling a moment of trepidation about how it would actually feel to be touched so intimately in such a strangely casual and not really sexually-charged situation - actually, I still felt far more awkward than anything else, with more than a little trepidation as I watched his fingers approaching me.

He didn’t grab me directly, though, in the manner that I had, but instead brushed a finger lightly across my tip and down along the shaft. It felt… a little odd, to be sure, but mostly just a more intense version of what I had experienced earlier, the sensation of being rubbed with a small bit of something like velvet or suede, and while I still wasn’t sure if I considered it sexy or not, it was a feeling that was undeniably pleasant.

Even if my mind didn’t find the situation erotic, though, the touch was stimulating enough to provoke my body into the expected reaction. It only took a few more of the hesitant, brushing touches to bring me to half-mast, and from there I didn’t seem to need any further encouragement to become fully erect.

The ambassador leaned over slightly towards me, seeming to momentarily forget about his own sensations as he examined me. “Yes, there really is quite a striking similarity in certain ways, isn’t there? Much wider than I would have imagined at first glance - far more of a difference in size from one state to the other, or at least far more visible.” He glanced back over to his own lap, apparently comparing the two of us. “And yet, the surfaces seem compatible, and attuned to similar stimulations. The way you wrap your fingers around, though… to simulate a certain type of opening, maybe? A straightforward idea, although we prefer to differentiate each act to play to the strengths of each configuration. Which makes me especially curious to see how you will react to the most traditional form of male introduction…”

I watched as his fingers spread out, articulating in their fascinating fashion to create a configuration that looked almost like a wireframe globe, albeit incomplete at the bottom. As I looked at his hand, trying to figure out how many joints the fingers needed to actually bend into that shape, he lowered it back down to surround the head of my cock - and then, abruptly, all seven fingers made contact, going quickly to work. Rather than working together, though, each one of them seemed to move independently, a confluence of motions I couldn’t even contemplate trying with my own fingers.

The pads of the fingertips made the same sort of motions as before, lightly brushing along one particular area and rarely traversing the entire length, but all of them suddenly brushing at once, with different directions and intensities, created a feeling truly unlike any I had ever felt before.

True, I had been with many others who had provided stimulation far more intense, but usually in a comprehensive way, with the sensations uniformly moving in one direction or another. There were a few who had been talented with their tongues, providing something a little like the every-which-way sort of stimulation, but only from a single point of focus, not seven at once.

Because it was all happening independently, it was hard to focus on any one of the sensations, and while I could feel that they were certainly stoking a biological sort of arousal, it was hard to tell whether it actually felt good or not. Well, it felt good, that much was true, but so chaotic and diffuse that I wasn’t quite sure what I was feeling. It took all my concentration just to parse the sensations, with just enough left over to provide him with the simple, unsophisticated motion of my own hand, but he still seemed far more focused on how I was reacting than to anything I was actually doing to him.

It was a whirlwind of sensation, especially when several of the fingers shifted up higher to trace around my cockhead’s outer ridge, alternately seeming to lightly tap and rub short, abrupt patterns across the tip. I still wasn’t really sure what to make of it - some parts of my cock were beginning to feel almost numb, while others were stimulated to the point of near-discomfort. The brushing sensations had slightly more pressure than before, but the velvety feel of the digits as they rubbed against me became dramatically more intense simply by virtue of the rapid, repetitive motions over the same small patch of sensitive skin. A few of the brushes, in fact, almost made me want to squirm away from his touch, as they were somehow close to being too much direct sensation to bear, but before I could one of the fingers dwelled on one particular spot that had maintained just the right amount of sensitivity - and I realized, as my body suddenly tensed in response, that somehow, through all of the confusing stimulation, I’d barely felt the point of no return sneaking up on me until I was literally on the edge of it.

“Wait, hold on, I’m gonna-“ I started to say, but before the translation could even kick in, the touch had lingered just a moment too long, and I felt my hips shudder as the leading edge of my climax rolled through me. It didn’t feel particularly intense, maybe because of the strange situation or the confusing way I’d been stimulated, but it had the usual effect, and I felt the head of my cock throb once beneath his fingers before the first spurt of cum launched out and splattered against the palm of his hand.

The feel of it apparently surprised him, as his hand immediately jerked back, but not before nudging the tip forward a little, and for several more seconds my cock just stood there erect, jerking from side to side as it twitched and spurted, sending visible jets of cum in high, narrow arcs that landed to make a wet, abstract mess on the carpet in front of me. By the time I had enough control over myself to get my one hand around the base and pull it back, it was nearly over, and the embarrassing damage had been done.

I looked over at the ambassador, hoping that he wasn’t too upset by my abrupt climax, or the mess I’d inadvertently made on his carpet. From what I could tell, though, he didn’t seem angry at all - in fact, he actually seemed to be even more enthusiastic, marveling at the stuff as he happily squished it between his fingers.

“And on top of everything else, you’re an emitter! How exciting! Tell me, is this something that you do every time you are touched to this threshold of pleasure?”

“Yeah, that’s kind of how it works…”

“Wonderful! Such a feature will make you quite popular indeed.”

“Um, you mean… you don’t ejaculate?”

“You will soon see that for yourself, but no, such a thing is only reserved for one of two specific configurations we take on, and only when we are acting in a specific reproductive capacity, as for whatever reason it is a function that does not replicate upon changing to an alternate form. Because the use of such forms results in reproduction, and most of our contact is not intended to create such a result, it is rare to feel such a thing happen when reproduction is not intended. As such a novel thing, I imagine it will be fascinating to most. I take it your reaction is now complete, though?”

“Yeah, pretty much…” I was definitely spent, my erection already quickly subsiding, and while it hadn’t been particularly intense, I was already feeling the aftereffects, the general sort of relaxation in response, the typical male exhaustion compounded by what I’d already been through, and my mind was ready enough to wander or drift off. Still, though, I knew I had to finish the reciprocal part of the ritual, and I was awake enough to keep pumping my hand up and down while keeping just enough of a grip to slide gently along the surface of his cock, judging from what he’d done with me that his species tended towards less directly intense stimulation.

They also didn’t seem to need much in the way of duration, though, as it only took a few more strokes of my hand along his length before I felt it suddenly tense beneath my fingers, becoming inexplicably somehow both more rigid in general, but softer along the surface against my touch. It was unusual, but it seemed clear enough that it signified something important, probably a climax of his own, and I realized that my hand had instinctively tightened around him in anticipation like it would have around myself.

A moment later, I heard him gasp, and then rapidly twice more, his hand abruptly reaching up to my shoulder and gripping hard against it, tight enough that I could feel the series of tense little shivers that reverberated through his body and out along his extremities. As soon as they stopped, though, his penis seemed to almost buck in my hands, just a couple of times, but with a surprising amount of force. Then it began to throb, a little more quickly than I was used to but with a broken, almost random sort of rhythm - and as it throbbed, I realized it wasn’t just moving as a whole - underneath the surface of the skin, ridges were actually rippling upward along its length, and little nubs seemed to push out along the head’s outer ridge, tapping noticeably against my fingers in time with the rest of the strange, breakbeat rhythm.

I held my hand in place, feeling him rippling and throbbing beneath my grasp, but it was indeed true that nothing was being released in the male fashion that I was used to - the tip, visible through my grasp, had deepened in hue to a fascinatingly vivid turquoise, and I realized that the very top part of the tip itself was peaking somehow, narrowing and pushing outward in the same sort of tapping way. It was certainly different enough to be fascinating, and I watched and felt with undisguised curiosity as it continued, persisting for at least twice as long as I had before the motions finally subsided.

As soon as they did, though, I felt his shaft rapidly slipping away through my fingers, and I opened them up, puzzled, to find it tucked just about entirely away back within his sheath, with only the topmost part of the tip peeking out as it had before. As strange as it was, I began to realize why he had been so fascinated by the process of my becoming erect - in that particular form, at least, his species was probably always effectively erect, and that instead of becoming hard, arousal simply caused them to emerge in the same way that he had retreated.

As I figured that out, though, I felt a sudden flash of heat on my wrist, and I looked over to see the device that had been embedded in it was suddenly glowing red, with a series of symbols flashing brightly enough to be visible even through my skin. I noticed something else flashing out of the corner of my eye, though, and when I glanced over, I realized that something similar was happening on the ambassador’s arm, and that was managing to be visible even through his short dusting of fur.

“Wait, what… what just happened?”

The ambassador glanced casually over at his wrist. “Ah, there we go! That is the final part of our introduction, and administratively the most important one. Oh, unless you were referring to what you felt during my climax? I am eager to explain either one if you would like.”

“I admit I’m a little curious about both, but the thing in my wrist - is it supposed to get hot like that? I thought it was going to start burning for a moment…”

The ambassador glanced over, his ears dipping in what I thought was an expression of concern. “Really? Oh, no, that’s right, it does feel a little intense until the implant is fully settled into place. Eventually, it will be a nice, quick thrumming sensation to let you know a bond has been made. As to how that works… well, it’s more complicated, so I’ll explain the other part, the climax, first. It is one of the alternate traditional configurations designed for pleasure, generally the most popular one because it does more during the climax, and also because such things interface with the most popular female configuration and stimulate it reciprocally to a more powerful climax. It is one of many configurations you will see, although based on my initial assessment, I imagine you will spend most of your time with female ones. You should not be intimidated, though - that you are an emitter will make up for the other features most of the time, and I imagine your dimensions will be pleasing as well. Perhaps in another configuration I will sample them more directly, but as such things take a night’s rest to change, that is for another time. For now, I should explain your citizenship, and the important part that the device on your wrist, and what happened with it, will play.”

He gestured to his own wrist for a moment, before securing his flowing garment back around himself. “The device is your identification, but it also contains the bonds you have with others. A bond is often formed by way of introduction, but can also be forged through more directly intimate means. If two people experience the physiological effects of orgasm, while in contact with each other, a bond is created, which means that you will have access to that individual in the future. With such a bond, you can access the one you have made the bond with wherever they happen to be - if they have a permanent residence, for instance, you will be able to stay there as well, and if not you will be able to stay wherever they are along with them. You see?”

“I’m… not entirely sure I follow. You’re saying that because we touched each other, that I can live at your house now?”

“Admittedly, it is a system with some complications, so perhaps I should explain it from the start. A child, for example, can stay at any of the residences of his parents, until the age of sexual maturity. At that point they must leave, but as they become sexually available at the same time, by the time their first day on their own is complete they will certainly have a variety of partners whose residence, and bed, they may share.

“Once they find a particular person with whom they share a plurality of their sexual contacts, they can have a permanent residence assigned with that person, in their place if there is room, or in a place nearby. Once they have that, all of their other partners can visit them there, and those that have many contacts who want to visit will be assigned larger residences to accommodate them. My residence, for example, is quite large, but this is because I interact with so many people through my job, and as I am the first bond of most immigrants, it also serves as the place they will stay during their first days as they make further introductions. Having a permanent residence is a choice, not a requirement, as all residences have the features to meet a person’s needs, and a fabricator to create individual items such as clothing. Some choose to have stable residences and have others come to them, while some prefer the freedom of their multiple connections - many who are prolific at connecting in that way can walk down any street in our city and have someone they can be with on every block. Perhaps this is different from how it is in your society, but this is how it works in ours.”

“The specifics of it are different, I guess… there isn’t nearly as much sharing that goes on, at least not like that, but everyone, regardless of their station, is generally provided for if they’re a citizen.” Well, if they were a citizen of the Constellation worlds, at least - I’d seen more than my fair share of worlds on the fringes of empires that hewed far less to those sorts of utopian ideals.

“So, some familiarity. Good. As long as you understand the system, you should do fine. If you would like to stay somewhere else, I imagine there are others around who would be more than willing to make similar introductions, but I would encourage you to stay in my residence for a while. As someone from another civilization, there are so many things I would like to talk with you about.”

He got up to go back over to the desk, glancing down at the carpet as he did so. “Don’t worry about that - the fabric is easily replaced, and we’ll want to remove that segment anyway and deliver it to a medical lab for a full analysis of your particular emission. If you passed the medical screening, though, it’s already been deemed compatible enough and without risk of unintentional procreation, so such an analysis would be done more out of scientific curiosity than anything else. If you do have any encounters with female configurations, though, do not feel any hesitation about emitting within them.”

The ambassador turned back for a moment after reviewing something on the screen. “The team assigned to the device you landed in has completed its evaluation, and has cataloged the small amount of handheld effects that resided in it. The device itself will be studied, but the effects, which include clothing and some other things, have had their components determined and scanned into the fabricator network, excluding a few pieces of equipment that appeared to be weaponry upon initial analysis. Should you have need of them, hold your wrist up to any fabricator and a list of your contents will appear. I do not know if your translation device extends to written words, but pressing an entry will display an image of the item in question - pressing again will fabricate it. I imagine this will provide you with clothes in your style which are more comprehensive. Oh, you can restore the covering of that region for now - we are done with that part of the introductions.”

Somehow, amidst all of the information I hadn’t noticed that my underwear was still pulled down, something that I hastily rectified, even as I felt some residual cum dampen the fabric as I pulled it back into place. If the ambassador was right, though, one of the fabricator devices could craft a clean replacement readily enough.

“So, with that, you are now a citizen of our world! Please return to contact me, either here in the day or at my residence at night, if there are any further questions. Otherwise, there are other appointments for me approaching, so I must say goodbye for now, although I am sure I will see you again soon.”

He ushered me to the door, and then through it, inclining his head to one side as I looked back and tilting his ears to the other, in what I assumed was a gesture of farewell. Then, once again, I was back in the waiting room, and before I could even figure out exactly where the exit was, the other alien, the programmer, was quickly at my side, holding his wrist against my own until a slight chime sounded from both.

“Oh… of course the ambassador is first bond. I suppose that’s only reasonable. He indicated that you should stay with him?”

“Yeah, essentially… although, come to think of it, he didn’t actually tell me where his residence is…”

“Not a problem! The ID in your wrist can guide you to him, if you can read its symbols… Is your translator visual as well?”

“As far as I know, it’s sound-only - it’s an emergency contingency, not a full-sense cybernetic translation suite - all the ships I served on had on-demand translation available anywhere on them, so I never actually got around to getting one. So if I’m going to read the symbols, I’ll have to learn them the old-fashioned way, probably.”

“I see. If you like, though, perhaps I can walk with you and show you where it is? It’s not very far from here, and I would like the opportunity to talk with you more in depth, perhaps become more properly introduced…” he gestured again towards one of the alcoves.

“Actually, I’m… not sure I’m up for another one of those kind of introductions today. I hope that doesn’t offend you…”

“Not at all. Is it that you do not prefer contact with males, or that it takes you a significant amount of time to… recharge?”

“Yes, to both of those, actually…”

“Ah, well. Had I known there would be such a fortuitous meeting today, I would have chosen a more compatible configuration. It is unusually…” he said, the translator struggling for a moment before spitting out the word ironic. “It is unusual in that sense, as I had spent the last several days configured as female, but desired a change for today. And now there is such a large opportunity, such a promise of new experience, but my first change limits it. That is only a problem for one day, though. Tomorrow I will take on my more usual configuration again, and then we can explore each other fully in the way that appeals to you. Could I ask for that guarantee, though? That if I am female tomorrow, that you will be with me in that way before you are with others?”

“I, um… I guess? I’m still trying to wrap my head around how all of this works. I’m used to a little promiscuity, serving on a ship with a wide variety of libidos, but… not quite to this extent. Do people really just go around and have sex with each other as an extended way of saying hi?”

“Not exactly. Although… I wonder if you fully understand the significance such things have for us. Take the ambassador, for example. He doesn’t hold his position because he has a conventional form of power. Some positions do, but the reason he has his is because every adult in this region has intimate knowledge of him, and so the general consensus is that he can be trusted implicitly with a position of importance. I… suppose that doesn’t really clarify things, but it’s an attempt to begin an explanation. It really is quite complicated…”

I still wanted to know more, but as the programmer talked, I did begin to wonder something about the translation. “I don’t know if it’s just the device, but when you were talking… did you refer to the ambassador as a ‘he?’”

“Oh, the ambassador? Yes… our language predates our conversion attempts, so we refer to people by their initial presentation, although it’s just a formality of language. We tend to be, actually, whatever form particularly pleases us… or pleases the person we currently wish to become entangled with. One can of course change it, but such pronouns are more… formalities rather than words which still contain relevant meaning.”

“Nevertheless,” he continued, “I wonder if you might let me… indulge in this opportunity tangentially, at least, regardless of my configuration?”

“I’m, ah, still not quite sure what you mean…”

“While we may not be able to properly introduce ourselves to each other, I am interested in extending the current exchange - of words and meanings, cultures and histories. If you are not up for a true introduction, I would not seek to continue such suggestions. However, my offer to guide you to the ambassador’s residence still stands. Nothing more than an accompaniment, with conversation. Would you be amenable to this?”

I nodded, following it up with speech when I realized the gesture likely was not universal. “I think that would be fine.”

“Thank you for your acceptance,” the programmer replied. “I suppose, as my business here is also concluded… we should make our way there?”

Reaching out, he took my hand in his own, and I headed out with him, slightly less befuddled then before, into the world that, it seemed, was to be my new home…