Chapter 1

I woke up with a terrible hangover, not for the first time. And I didn't wake alone, also not for the first time. Last but not least, I was naked, which was also not unprecedented.

But I had never woken up with two bed partners before, and in particular, I'd never awakened to the feeling of furry heat pressed against my naked chest.

Sean Mac Chen at your service, citizen of the Celtic Republic, proud descendant of Irish Kings and Chinese Emperors. At least, that's what the drunken sods who'd given me birth claimed. Personally, I suspected my paternal ancestors had been criminals escaping the collapse of the New Heavenly Empire as it transformed itself into the New Chinese Republic. And I didn't think nearly that well of my maternal ancestors.

I'd dragged myself out of the illiterate hell-hole I'd been born to, mostly by an unquenchable thirst for the written word as found in the moldering libraries of Glasgow, and for the rather ancient texts that could be found on the free parts of the Worldweb. Applying myself at what was laughingly called school seemed pointless, so I'd studied other sources instead. My studies had had a number of useful effects and some that were less helpful. On the unhelpful side of the ledger, I tended to speak and write in a fashion that led my so-called peers to refer to me as sounding like a 'bloody antique toff.'

On the plus side, I'd managed to acquire a scholarship to the University here on Phoenix, as the Craxill home world called itself these days, to study biological engineering on a planet with three distinct genetic systems interacting in a single blended ecological system. The Craxill had 'invaded' first, bringing their food crops, livestock, pets, and favorite decorative plants to their new home. There'd been an interesting series of adaptive events, reminiscent of the introduction of kudzu to the southern part of the old United States.

Later, humans had come to the Craxill planet, bringing their own crops, and so on, and creating another wave of ecological upsets. There were still purely native ecosystems on some of the currently uninhabited continents, but wind-borne seeds and tourists were likely to spoil that purity eventually.

Having three active genomes to study, plus the records of the Hundmill, who the Craxill had traded with briefly centuries ago, the biologists of Phoenix had a unique insight into the nature of life, allowing them to easily identify which things were fundamental requirements of carbon/water-based life, and which things were mere historical accidents.

Unfortunately, of late I'd gotten myself caught up in a deadly feedback loop. Poor study habits and excessive drinking led to poor grades, which led to depression and feelings of incompetence, which led to more drinking and less studying, and so on around the circle. I was in serious danger of washing out, leading to the revocation of my student visa, and my repatriation back to Earth, where I would find myself unemployable.

I'd been celebrating a particularly poor set of examination results last night, with a group of fellow sufferers whose identities were still rather fuzzy. I remembered drinking far too much, and not much after that. And now, I was very much afraid that I'd done something very very wrong.

There were two naked Craxill lying on top of me, each with an arm across the other's back. Each one had their crotch pressed against one of my thighs, and to my distinct discomfort, one of those crotches was applying a disturbingly lumpy pressure. I was, as a former roommate once put it, disgustingly heterosexual, though I didn't consider myself homophobic. I was really starting to be afraid of what I'd done last night.

The furry form on my left began to stir slightly. She sighed, and the long tangled filaments of her tongue darted out as she sniffed me. Craxill didn't have noses; they smelled by drawing air through their tongues and 'tasting' the scents that rode the air. I sniffed myself, and flinched a bit at the odor of my alcohol-poisoned sweat. I found it difficult to imagine that my bed partners would find my current scent appealing.

The young female raised her head to look at me, with an unfamiliar expression on her face. "Good morning, lord," she said sleepily.

"I am no man's laird, nor woman's either," I snapped, then paused, aghast. In the English dialect in common use on Phoenix, 'lord' was the term of address used by a Craxill to his or her Alpha human. A married human couple, and a mated Craxill pair, joined to form a bonded quad. Husband and wife were lord and lady to the mated pair, who were called their brides. In very rare circumstances, the human female was the Alpha, and in that case she was the lord, and her husband the lady, which caused a great deal of consternation and amusement among the less sophisticated Earthers.

The young woman looked upset at my outburst, and I stroked her back to calm her, and said, "Forgive me; I spoke without thinking. I was very drunk last night, and I fear I have done something ill-advised. But if it is done, then it is done; I will not cast you out. I have never yet evaded a responsibility, and I do not intend to start with you.

"By your form of address, I take it that I took possession of you last night, making me the Alpha to your Beta. I am of Earth and not of Phoenix, and I admit to ignorance of the details of custom in these matters, but if you instruct me in my duties to you, I will fulfill them to the best of my ability."

Somewhat calmer, but still apprehensive, the young woman looked at me and said, "Yes, lord, you took me last night. But I am not a Beta as you believe, but a drone. I too was intoxicated last night, as was Naltort, and I fear that I too have been ill-advised. I love him, and he loves me, but I am a drone and he is not, and love between us is forbidden by ancient custom. I remember last night well enough to know that you took me, then bid him to take me as well. When he did, he bonded to me, even though as a drone I did not and can not bond to him in return."

I shook my head, and said, "And I don't suppose there's such a thing as a morning-after pill for either of you, is there? A magic potion to undo the damage done to your lives by my drunken lust?" I was sliding deeper into depression; bad enough that I'd ruined my own life, now I'd ruined two more. Only the thought that this beautiful creature would no doubt take her life if I took mine kept thoughts of suicide at bay.

I was woefully ignorant of the subtleties of Craxill expressions, but she seemed all too familiar with human ones. She touched my face soothingly and said, "You have done me no damage, my lord. You have filled a void that has grown in me since I became an adult, a void I thought would never be filled. So few of your people accept drones as their brides that I feared I would have to remain part of the clan to which I was born; and Sminran has never treated their drones well.

"While my love for Naltort is forbidden by ancient custom, the modern customs given to us by Lord Phoenix are silent on the matter, other than the mandate to treat Beta and Drone as equals except as required by our biology. That mandate, however, would not have been strong enough for most of the humans of Phoenix to set aside ancient custom and allow Naltort and I to be together."