Chapter 14: Hot Pots and Stage Shows

Another day at the office went by without incident. The flock were being remarkably diligent about keeping their hands to themselves at work, though they had begun to favor their eyes instead. The atmosphere was more relaxed in general, their advances far less aggressive than they had been before their talk, limited now to flirtatious comments or remarks about prior evenings. Knowing that Steven reciprocated their feelings and not having the looming threat of him being stolen away by rival flocks had put them much more at ease, secure now in their position as his girlfriends.

They even treated Yemi with far more respect when he came to deliver messages. Whether that was because of Yemi’s newfound confidence, Steven’s requests, or because they simply no longer had any need to pursue the male was unclear.

As the workday drew to a close, the flock began to prepare for their next outing. They were headed to the restaurant in the clouds this time, situated high inside one of the city’s towering skyscrapers. They bid their farewells to Yemi, then descended in the elevator. Steven was now so accustomed to the stomach-churning ride that he scarcely thought about it. A quick jaunt to the nearest station and a maglev ride later, and they were in another transparent elevator racing up the side of one of the glittering spires, the rooftops of the smaller structures falling away beneath them.

Higher and higher they went, rising above the clouds, the round shape of the city’s wall becoming ever more apparent. From the ground, its curve was much harder to perceive. At the top, Steven found himself in another upscale restaurant, the far wall following the flowing contours of the building, an uninterrupted pane of glass looking out over the city. Even as the waiter arrived to seat them, he wandered over to the window, his stomach lurching as he gazed down at the streets far below. He felt more like he was standing on the observation deck of a spaceship.

They settled in for another meal, this one consisting of more strange alien dishes, chatting and joking as they ate. When there was a lull, and they got up to stretch their legs, Steven noticed that Paza was standing by the window. Sensing an opportunity to get her alone for a while, he made his way over to join her.

“It’s an incredible view,” he said as he sidled up beside her. “You can see all the way out to the ocean from here.”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me a story about how you could never see so far on Ganymede,” she replied.

“Quite the opposite, actually,” he began. “You see the way the blue haze kind of swallows everything beyond a certain distance?” he asked as he pointed beyond the wall. “That happens due to the density of the atmosphere. If there’s no atmosphere, you can see uninterrupted forever – at least to the horizon. Those islands in the distance would be as crisp and clear as your own hand.”

“Fascinating,” she muttered with a flicker of red.

“I get the impression that you’re not quite as enamored with my stories as your friends are. You’ve also been a lot colder towards me than they have. We’re technically dating, right? Were you the dissenting vote?”

“If I have given you the impression that I don’t like you, I apologize,” she replied tersely. “I have come to respect your professional insights and the value that you bring to the team. I must admit, however, that I am not as infatuated with you as my flockmates seem to be.”

“Is there anything I can do about that?” he asked. “If it’s just about the way I look ... well ... I’m an alien. I can’t really grow feathers and scales.”

“You have a certain ... exotic appeal,” she muttered as she looked him up and down pointedly. “That isn’t the issue.”

“Then, what is?”

“I question the long-term viability of this relationship. You can’t sire children, and I doubt that you’d be willing to fulfill traditional gender roles in the home. Dating you simply feels like an inefficient use of our time.”

“I get it,” he replied with a shrug. “If you have to invest limited time and resources into securing a husband, you might as well maximize your return. You’re right – I’m probably not going to give you kids or a traditional relationship. Then again, it’s a little early to be thinking about marriage and kids, don’t you think?”

“Not for a Val’ba’ra’nay.”

“I suppose you do like to plan ahead,” he conceded. “I would posit that those things are less important than simply being with someone you love and enjoying their company. A relationship isn’t an investment portfolio where you’re expecting a specific rate of return. We don’t have to be locked in, either. Your flock can still decide that they don’t like me later. That’s kind of the point of dating – it’s a free trial period. Try before you buy, thirty-day money-back guarantee.”

“I’m often the one managing the flock’s time, money, and resources,” Paza replied. “I keep them on task and oriented – I keep them efficient. You represent an inefficiency.”

“Still, you went along with the consensus,” he added as he clasped his hands behind his back and gazed out of the window. “I appreciate that they’re asking a lot of you. You’re not as into me as they are – you don’t see me in the same light, but you’re going along with it for their sake. That’s an admirable trait.”

“The consensus is all that matters,” she grumbled. “I would not expect an Earth’nay to fully grasp the concept.”

“So, enlighten me.”

“Any decision is made wiser through consensus,” she explained. “When we take the time to discuss something between flockmates, and multiple people weigh in with different perspectives, we can be sure that we’re coming to the best possible conclusion using the information available to us.”

“Two heads are better than one,” Steven mused. “Or, in this case, five.”

“In essence, yes. Within a flock, there is give, and there is take. Consensus is reached through majority vote, and if there is a stalemate, the discussion continues until someone makes a concession. We make little concessions every day – what to eat for breakfast, what to do in our free time, even where to live and work. The flock – and by extension, society – functions because each of us is willing to tolerate small inconveniences and put aside our personal feelings for the greater good of the whole. Right now, you are that greater good. You are the consensus, and I cannot stand in the way of my flock’s happiness.”

“Consensus really isn’t all that alien to me, you know,” Steven replied. “What you just described also applies to any healthy relationship between two Earth’nay. We can’t always get what we want, and sometimes, we have to suffer a little so that the people we love can be happy. We do so with the expectation that, at some future date, they’ll do the same for us. They’ll recognize what’s important to us and make a concession of their own.”

“Perhaps you do have some limited understanding,” she conceded, giving him the same sideways glance that she tended to give him when he impressed her at work.

“Relationships also take effort,” Steven continued. “You can’t just expect everything to be peachy and perfect from the get-go. No matter how happy you are together, you’re going to hit hurdles and hard times, and you have to be willing to work through them together. That’s what makes a bond strong.”

“Do you imagine that you can forge such a bond with me?” she chuckled. Her tone was derisive, but there was a hint of pink in her feathers.

“I think that we can build off of a foundation of mutual respect, yes. Unless you’re just totally not into Earth’nay.”

“I didn’t say that,” she replied. “There’s a large gulf between finding someone attractive and viewing them as a suitable life partner. This is far from the first time that the flock has brought home someone who didn’t meet my standards.”

“Lounge dancers?” Steven asked with a smirk. “Did you partake, or did you spend those nights sleeping on the couch?”

“Perhaps you view me as distant and dispassionate,” she mused, keeping her eyes on the view ahead. “I suppose that I’ve never given you a reason to think otherwise. I am simply of the opinion that there is an appropriate time and place for such things.”

“You weren’t just taking my comments about not flirting at the office to heart, then?” Steven inquired. “I’ve never seen you let your proverbial hair down, really. If you play as hard as you work, maybe I should be a little scared...”

“I will say only that I make very efficient use of my time.”

She returned to the table, leaving him to contemplate the vista along with her words. It was about the closest to flirting Paza had ever gotten. She might not see him as a prospective husband, but she would still fuck his brains out if the opportunity arose – that had been made very clear. She was high-strung, and powerful executive types like her tended to know exactly what they wanted. They didn’t waste time beating around the bush. Her approach was the opposite of Mima’s slow-burn seduction – a simple statement of facts, like she was handing him a consent form to sign. Here’s the acquisition form for the new stationary shipment, and by the way, I’m scheduled to rock your world at four.

“Steven!” he heard Ipal call to him. “We’re having dessert! Come sit down!”

He turned away from the window, heading back over to their table.

“Thanks, I had a nice evening,” he said as the flock paused to see him off at the train station. “Thanks for finally letting me pay for one of the meals, too. I still have a chunk of that UN stipend left, and I was starting to feel guilty about mooching off you guys.”

“We’re still doing the concert tomorrow, right?” Tilli asked.

“The schedule is ironclad,” he replied, raising a hand as though he was taking an oath.

“Okay, we’ll see you at work tomorrow,” Ipal chimed.

The flock hovered for a moment as though waiting for something, but Steven wasn’t sure what to do. After a date with a human girl, he might offer her a kiss or some show of affection, but what should he do with five girls? Should he go down the line and kiss them one by one?

Instead, he selected Tilli, bending over to reach her. He gently placed his fingers beneath her chin, encouraging her to lift her head, then planted a kiss on her scaly lips. It wasn’t one of the bawdy kisses that he had shared with Ezi or Mima – that didn’t feel appropriate – but she flared pink and yellow all the same.

“See you tomorrow,” he said, waving them off as he climbed the steps. They tittered for a moment, exchanging pleased feather signals, then bobbed off back down the dirt path.

The train soon pulled silently into the station, and he took his usual seat in one of the undersized chairs, catching a few glances from other late-night commuters as he pulled up his phone. He noticed that he had a message from Qimi’s flock, and seeing that they were online, he put through a call. It rang for a few moments, then he saw her familiar face appear, her flockmates flashing greetings as they crowded around their device.

“Hi, Steven!” Qimi chimed.

“Hey, girls,” he said with a smile. “I hope I’m not catching you too late.”

“Not at all,” Tlaso replied from her left.

“We actually wanted to catch up and see how you were doing,” Nawa added. “We haven’t talked much since our meal together.”

“I just got back from a date with my coworkers,” he said, smirking as he watched the flock flash their feathers.

“It sounds like you’ve been making progress,” Qimi said, leaning closer as though she was expecting to hear some juicy gossip. “What’s been happening between you and the flock?”

“Was our advice helpful?” Tikol asked.

“Very,” Steven replied. “I couldn’t have gotten this far without your insights.”

“Well, are you going to tell us the details?” Nawa pressed.

“I invited them over to watch some shows a few nights ago,” he began, the girls leaning in attentively. “Partway through the episode, there was a racy scene, and they seemed to take that as a cue to put the moves on me. They were pretty aggressive about it, too.”

“What did you do?” Qimi asked.

“Well, I could have just done nothing and let the night run its course,” he replied with a shrug. “The temptation was certainly there, let me tell you. Instead, I remembered the advice that you guys gave me, and I decided to confront them directly.”

“I can’t imagine they took that very well,” Kema giggled.

“Not at first,” he continued. “They mostly just seemed confused. I guess that, in their eyes, it was like – here are five beautiful women inviting you to spend the night with them. What are you complaining about? I explained the situation, though, and I told them how their behavior was impacting me and what I expected of them if they wanted an actual relationship.”

“I’m guessing that they listened if we’re having this conversation now,” Tlaso mused.

“They took a little while to come to a consensus, but when given the choice between a one-night stand and a relationship, they chose the latter. I was pleasantly surprised.”

“That means they’re actually interested in a longer-term arrangement,” Qimi confirmed.

“I actually kissed Ezi,” Steven added. “I guess it was an olive branch of a sort. If you remember – who am I kidding, you always remember – Ezi was the really pushy one. It turns out that she’s way less experienced than she wanted me to think, and she pretty much turned into a stuttering, blushing mess the moment I showed her any affection.”

“That’s adorable,” Kema snickered with a flutter of pink. “The moment you started describing her, we knew that she was overcompensating.”

“Yeah, you guys were right on the money.”

“What’s a kiss?” Tikol wondered. She pulled out her phone before he could answer, the flock crowding around and flashing pink feathers as they discovered it for themselves.

“They’ve stopped bothering me at work,” Steven continued. “We’ve been on a few more dates, and they’re actually really cool when they’re not trying too hard. I’m glad I stuck it out.”

“All they needed was a little structure,” Qimi replied with a flutter of green. “They’re lucky that they’ve found someone so patient to help them learn.”

“I think the whole situation is adorable,” Kema said.

“I thought you guys might have some advice for what I should do next,” Steven began. “I’ve broken the ice, but I don’t really know what they expect of me now, or when Valbara’nay consider it appropriate to take things further. I don’t want to be too easy, but I don’t want to make them wait longer than would be reasonable, either. The goal isn’t to punish them.”

The flock took a moment to discuss the question, tittering and chirping to one another.

“If you feel like they’ve shown an appropriate amount of restraint and that they respect you, we don’t see why you can’t take the relationship to the next level,” Qimi replied.

“For Earth’nay, it’s generally considered acceptable to put out on the third date,” he chuckled. “Maybe I’ll make them wait a little longer than that.”

“Keep us updated,” Nawa added. “This is the most exciting thing that’s happened in weeks.”

“You’ll have to let me take you guys out to dinner again sometime soon,” Steven said. “My treat this time – I insist.”

“We’ll take you up on that,” Qimi said with another ripple of green.

“My stop is coming up, so I’ll talk to you guys later,” Steven said as the train began to slow.

“See you later, Steven!” they chimed in chorus.

“I think it’s almost done,” Steven said as the flock crowded around his desk, their violet eyes reflecting the glow of his holographic display. “Unless there’s anything else that you guys want to add to the presentation?”

The flockmates were all impressed with his work, but they looked to Paza for the final say, knowing that she was the most knowledgeable among them. After a few moments, she gave it her quiet approval, flashing green feathers.

“Very impressive work,” she replied. “The software demo will be ready on time for the presentation, too.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Steven continued, the flock turning their attention back to him. “You said that the algorithm is basically finished, right?”

“There is some tweaking and refinement left to do, but essentially,” Paza replied.

“Could it be deployed right now?”

“In theory,” she said. “We’ve run very accurate sims, and all of the bugs that we’ve been able to find have been ironed out.”

“That means it could be loaded onto a test bed?”

“Assuming that we had a suitable platform,” Paza replied. “Real-world trials likely won’t begin until the client closes the deal.”

“You must have access to some of the turrets this software was designed to run on, though. You’d need detailed schematics and performance data.”

“The company does,” Ipal replied. “What are you getting at, Steven?”

“If you really wanted to wow the clients, a practical demonstration would do wonders,” he explained. “If we could get our hands on one of these turrets and have it blow some shit up – really show them how well it performs – it would make us stand out against the competition.”

“That ... isn’t something Val’ba’ra’nay would generally do,” Paza said as she considered. “The data from the simulations should suffice as a demonstration of the software’s capabilities.”

“If I know Earth’nay, and I do, then something with a little more visual flair would go down well. Could it be done in time?”

“We haven’t exactly tried to rent a weapon system before,” Ipal replied. “It’s short notice, and we would need to obtain the appropriate permits and permissions from the Ensis of Kalahar.”

“Not to mention selling the idea to the executives,” Mima added. “It’s rather unorthodox.”

“Expensive, too,” Ezi added.

“But it may be a possibility,” Mima continued. “We have some days yet before the presentation is scheduled.”

“We can always fall back on the original plan if we can’t swing it,” Steven said. “Do you guys trust me?”

They paused to discuss it, taking a few moments before delivering their reply.

“We trust you,” Ipal said. “We’ll see if we can make it happen.”

“What’s this?” Yemi asked as he stepped into their cubicle with a tablet computer in hand. “A request for the temporary use of a Tona’me’yotl laser point defense system just came across my desk. What are you people up to in here?”

“So that’s what TMY-6 stands for,” Steven mused.

“Roughly translated, the name means to become bright,” Mima said.

“I’m sure the Earth’nay will change the name if they actually adopt it,” Ipal added.

“You’re really asking me to forward this request to the board?” Yemi asked, giving them a skeptical flutter of yellow. “What could you possibly want with such a thing?”

“It was actually Steven’s suggestion,” Paza said as she gave him a flutter of acknowledgment. “He believes that a real-world demonstration will wow the Earth’nay clients.”

“I think it’ll help give our presentation some extra pazzazz,” Steven said, locking his hands behind his head as he leaned back in his chair.

“Pazzazz?” Yemi muttered, rolling the unfamiliar word around in his mouth. “Well, if you’re certain, I’ll forward the request. I just wanted to make sure that this wasn’t some kind of strange error.”

“Thanks, Yemi,” Steven said. “I think it’ll help if the request goes through you.”

“Yes, you’re very well-respected within the company,” Paza added.

“Thank you, Yemi!” Mima chimed. The rest of the flock followed suit, thanking him and giving him respectful salutes of red.

The little male seemed taken aback by their new attitude, giving them a brief bow before returning the way he had come.

“You guys are looking sharp,” Steven said as the flock bobbed down the street towards him. They were wearing the formal suits that they had bought a couple of days prior, with form-fitting vests and a blend of skirts and shorts, their colors far more muted than the flock’s usual dress.

The concert was taking place late in the evening, so the sun was already setting, the artificial glow of the city starting to overpower its fading light. This part of Kalahar was more of a cultural center, so the throngs of bar and clubgoers were absent, but there was still a respectable nightlife. Flocks were walking to and fro, and the roads played host to the occasional squadron of scooters.

“We thought we’d break in the suits,” Ipal replied. “We don’t want to look all stuffy during the presentation.”

“Besides, this is a somewhat formal occasion,” Mima added. “We want to look our best.”

Steven was wearing his suit, too, but he rarely went home to change into casual clothes before going out with the flock. It had kind of become his default look.

They had arranged to meet outside the theater this time – a building in the city center that was distinct from the glass and carbcrete skyscrapers that towered over it. If Valbaran architects had tried to one-up each other with every new skyscraper, the theater was either their magnum opus or the fevered dream of a madman. Steven wasn’t well versed enough in the arts to guess.

It looked somewhat like a blooming flower, the curving, organic petals forming the structure of the building. They were clad in a shining silver metal that caught the colorful city lights surrounding them, warping and reflecting them like a funhouse mirror. The petals were joined by lattices of glass panes – or some comparable material – like gossamer strands of spiderweb. The soft, yellow light from within filtered out, making the whole structure seem to glow. The theater was built on its own little piece of parkland, surrounded by carefully sculpted hills and patches of trees.

They set off down the winding path that led to the front entrance, a few other guests giving them curious looks. Ipal had been right – this was certainly a more upscale venue than they were used to. Everyone was fancily dressed, and the males were especially easy to pick out thanks to their shining jewelry and more ostentatious getups.

Just like tropical birds, the females were all clad in muted gray and beige, while their male companions were wearing much brighter and more elaborate clothing. A lot of the outfits looked similar to what Yemi wore at the office, with tight tunics that exposed the neck and shoulders coupled with long shorts. Some were designed to expose the midriff, but they were all equally colorful and decorative, often sporting a kind of reflective filigree or intricate patterns with an iridescence that matched their feathers.

They filtered through the doors and into a large foyer, the glass ceiling glittering above their heads. Whereas the scant few opera houses and theaters that still existed inside Ganymede’s domes were designed to imitate an ancient baroque style commonly associated with old Europe and classical art forms, the Valbaran style was very different. There wasn’t a straight line anywhere in sight save for the floor. Every wall or supporting pillar was rounded and organic, almost like the building was a single piece of malleable resin that had been extruded from a giant nozzle. It wasn’t even really symmetrical, but somehow, it didn’t come across as haphazard or chaotic. Every flowing shape was a deliberate design choice that had been put there with intent.

The colors, or lack thereof, were also surprising. For all their love of color, the Valbarans had chosen very muted and neutral tones. It was all gray, white, and beige, almost seeming monotone in comparison to all of the colorful visitors.

The crowd was slowly flowing through the building, so the flock followed, making their way down a corridor. Steven was able to see over everyone’s heads, and even for him, the high ceiling added to the grand feel. It reflected and focused the murmur of conversations, creating an echo effect that reminded him of large warehouses or spaceports. While the walls of the corridor were continuous, the wave-like texture of bumps and valleys almost made them look like the trunks of pale trees when light and shadow interacted in the right way, meeting above their heads like the intertwining canopy of a forest. It was subtle, but once noticed, it was hard to ignore.

Steven’s head was on a swivel as the hallway opened up into the theater proper, a massive auditorium filling his field of view. It must be somewhat recessed into the ground, because as high as the domed ceiling was, the room seemed taller than the scale of the building should allow for when seen from outside. He could see the sections of glass roof, the petal-like shape of the building’s structure actually shielding the windows from the light emanating from the surrounding city, preventing any of it from leaking in. Even those elaborate floral designs had a very functional purpose.

He was standing on a high balcony that overlooked the auditorium, rows of hundreds of seats arranged in a semi-circular pattern like a coliseum sweeping down far below him, their upholstery the same muted grays as the surrounding décor. Some of them were separated into little pockets and pits off to the sides of the main seating area, adding to that strange organic feel. It looked like it could probably host a thousand Valbarans or more, and that was before he included the two higher floors that each had their own overhanging balconies lined with more seating. In the usual Valbaran fashion, there were no safety railings, the fifteen-meter fall to the ground floor making his stomach churn.

At the apex of the ceiling above and behind him were the rows of stage lights, currently bathing the cavernous room in a diffuse, yellow glow. The stage itself was the focal point of the auditorium, all of the sweeping contours and organic shapes guiding the eye there, so far away from his perspective that a Valbaran would appear about the size of his thumb if they were standing there. The stage was conspicuously flat when compared to the surrounding structure, large enough that a whole orchestra could have occupied it – and perhaps they sometimes did. Experience told him to search for said orchestra in a pit in front of the stage, but he couldn’t see them. Maybe they didn’t play live music?

“You look impressed,” Mima chuckled, giving him a nudge. “Come on, we need to find our seats.”

“We shelled out for a booth,” Ipal added, taking him by the arm and guiding him through the crowd. “We thought you’d appreciate being able to see the show without people staring at you instead of the dancers.”

“You guys didn’t have to do that,” he said.

They led him along the balcony, Steven watching the seats in the auditorium below steadily fill up with people. They descended a level via a narrow staircase, then entered their booth – one of the little bubbles that extruded from the wall. There was a door at the back that could close to seal them off from the world, and rather than a window overlooking the stage, the forward section of the pod was simply open to the air without any railings or safety measures to protect the occupants.

Fortunately, the padded couch was a little further inside, providing an unimpeded view of the show without the risk of falling to one’s grisly death. There was a low table, too, presumably for any drinks or snacks that the occupants might order. Steven had no idea what the etiquette was or whether liquor or popcorn were usually allowed.

“The show should be starting before long,” Mima said as she settled into the cushions. The rest of the flock soon joined her, and Steven had to admit that the booth had been a good choice. The couch was a hell of a lot more comfortable for him than one of those tiny chairs would be.

Ezi settled in beside him, sandwiching him between her and Mima. Ezi hadn’t spoken very much since their kiss, in stark contrast to her usual behavior, but she was jumping on the opportunity to be close to him tonight.

After a few more minutes, those massive stage lights began to dim, plunging the auditorium into darkness. Steven fished out his phone and made sure that its notifications were turned off, dreading the prospect of a call or message interrupting the performance.

“We haven’t been out to the theater in rotations,” Tilli sighed, shifting her weight on the pillows.

“It’s a little more high-brow than a lounge,” Ipal snickered.

“We can still order drinks, though,” Mima added.

“How long do these things usually last?” Steven inquired as the sound of echoing conversations slowly faded.

“Usually two or three hours,” Mima replied.

“We’d better get comfortable, then.”

A couple of spotlights slowly came to life, illuminating a pair of platforms that had risen up to either side of the stage while the lights were out. They were elevated high off the ground, each one occupied by several flocks of Valbarans who were holding alien instruments. That must be where the orchestra performed – raised above the stage rather than situated below it. It was hard to make out much detail from so far away, but he could see strange string instruments and curving tubes that might be horns of some kind. There were no conductors, and there was no tuning or warm-up – the musicians simply began their carefully memorized routine.