Chapter 2: Inspiration

“Res ... taur ... ant,” Tepin muttered as he read off the Earth’nay text on the establishment’s colorful awning from the safety of a planter. They sold food here, it was as good a place to start as any. Paying shouldn’t be a problem, he wasn’t sure what the currency conversion was like, but Valbara had been inducted into the Coalition’s economic zone. They couldn’t turn him away.

He looked both ways before crossing the walkway, choosing his opportunity carefully. He was below the field of view of many of these creatures, and he couldn’t count on them noticing him before he was trampled. When the way was relatively clear, he bobbed over to the restaurant, two Earth’nay giving him a funny look as he emerged from a bush and darted across their path.

As he pushed open the glass door to the establishment, enticing scents reached his nose, his mouth immediately beginning to water. He could smell meat, a lot of it. Meat wasn’t that hard to obtain back home, but it was something that was usually treated as a delicacy, reserved for special occasions. Most food that was produced on Valbara came from aquaponics and insect farming within the city walls, while the world beyond was allowed to take its natural course. They didn’t farm livestock, but they did cull the Gue’tra flocks on a seasonal basis, stout reptilian herbivores that roamed the plains in large numbers. People usually loaded up on meat and feasted around that time of year.

The scene before him was oddly rustic. Everything was made from polymer that had been shaped to look like wood, the walls lined with paneling in the same style. It might have been convincing to an Earth’nay, but Tepin could smell the plastic. There was a mirrored walkway that ran along the length of the room, polished to a shine so that it reflected the lights in the ceiling above it, rows of tables and chairs lined up to either side. There were pillars spaced at intervals that were designed to look like they had been crudely carved from stone, but it was yet more polymer, a soft glow rising from beneath them. It was all very upscale, the Earth’nay had more taste in interior design than he had given them credit for.

Most of the seats were vacant, there were only a handful of aliens occupying some of the tables, leaning out to peer at him curiously. They didn’t mean any harm, they had never seen his like before, so he shouldn’t let it make him uncomfortable. He’d be getting a lot of odd looks during his stay on the station.

So ... how did this work? In a Valbara’nay restaurant, a greeter would be sent to seat him and take his order, seeing to his needs during his meal. He waited for a few moments, and then an Earth’nay woman appeared from a side room, walking over to greet him. She was wearing a black suit with a white collar, and a long skirt, her dark hair tied up in a bun. Her skin was pale, her eyes a shade of blue that he found quite appealing. He knew that she was female, but the lack of a snout always gave Earth’nay women a masculine feel.

“Would you like a table, Sir?” she asked.

Sir, an Earth’nay honorific, respectful.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied. She seemed taken aback for a moment, his trilling, flanging voice perhaps more musical than what she was used to. Earth’nay lacked a syrinx, a vocal organ found in Valbara’nay that allowed them to make a wider range of vocalizations. During his time learning their language, his instructor had talked about how Valbara’nay voices often sounded like two individuals singing in harmony to Earth’nay ears.

“This way,” she said, giving him a polite smile with her painted lips as she led him over to an unoccupied seat. He had to climb up onto it, it was too high for him, and there was a padded backrest that got in the way of his tail. It wasn’t uncomfortable enough that he wanted to ask for better seating, and it wasn’t their fault. He must be their first Valbara’nay customer.

“This is our menu,” she said, gesturing to a piece of laminated card on the table before him. “Please don’t hesitate to ask for help if you need it.”

He scrutinized it, following the rows of alien text with his claw. Even the words that he recognized meant nothing to him because they referred to dishes and foods without context. What was a pork bun? Who knew. The sheaths on his head and forearms opened up, flashing a disappointed purple, the woman recoiling in alarm. He glanced up from the menu, willing his long feathers to fold back down.

“Apologies,” he explained, “this is how my people express emotion. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“It’s quite alright,” she replied, chuckling sheepishly. “We’ve had a few aliens in here before, and they all have their own ... quirks.”

“I don’t recognize any of these dishes,” he explained, “what might you recommend?”

“No?” she asked, cocking her head at him. “You speak excellent English, I assumed that ... no matter.”

“We learn to speak your language through mimicry,” Tepin said, the woman nodding.

“I see, so that’s why I couldn’t place your accent. You’re mimicking several different people like a myna bird ... how interesting. You’re a Valbaran, right?”

“That’s right,” he added with a nod.

“Of course, I can recommend a dish,” she said as she turned the menu around and began to read it. “Can you give me some idea of what your people generally eat? Do you like sweet foods, savory, do you have any special nutritional requirements?”

“Fish, fruits and vegetables with high water content, insect protein.”

“I ... don’t think we have any insect-based dishes,” she muttered.

“You serve meat, is that right?” Tepin asked, trying and failing to suppress a flutter of excited yellow.

“We have lots of different meat dishes. Pork, beef, chicken. Oh, you won’t know what any of those are...” She thought for a moment, one hand on her hip as the other scratched her chin pensively. “How about a meat platter? That way, you can sample lots of different kinds at once. Maybe some fish too, if you’d like. I think we have a shipment of fresh salmon in. How do you like your meat cooked?”

“Whatever the Chef recommends,” he replied.

“I think I have just the thing for you,” she said with a grin. “Before I take your order, how will you be paying?”

He rummaged in his pocket and withdrew his visor, placing it on his snout, the Earth’nay watching him curiously as he began to gesture in the air.

“I can convert Valbara’nay currency into UN credits,” he said, “I will just need an address to send the payment to.”

“That should be fine,” she added, “I’ll send you the address along with the bill when you’re done eating. It should be around eighty credits.”

Tepin did some math for a moment, then nodded his head.

“Acceptable, thank you.”

“Excellent. I’ll be back with your meal shortly, Sir.”

Tepin could smell his meal long before the woman came into view, the wonderful scents preceding her. She was balancing two large dishes in her hands, placing them before him on the table, his feathers puffing up to express his excitement again. This time she was ready for it, and she didn’t falter, leaning over to point to the various items.

The larger of the two dishes was occupied by a ring of pink, marbled meat that had been sliced into bite-sized pieces, garnished with some kind of green plant.

“This is called ‘yakiniku’,” she explained, “it’s a Japanese dish made up of a variety of grilled meat. Here we have ‘rosu’, beef loin and chuck. This one here is ‘butabara’, pork belly, and here we have ‘negima’ which is chicken thigh.”

She gestured to the second dish, this one piled with small, round packets that were wrapped in what almost resembled black paper. Some of them had a strip of what looked like pink flesh that lay atop a ball of white mush.

“This is ‘sushi’,” she explained. “This pink meat is salmon, a kind of Earth fish. This is tuna or ‘maguro’, this is shrimp or ‘ebi’. The black stuff is a kind of aquatic plant called seaweed. The white stuff is a grain called rice. Feel free to leave anything that isn’t to your tastes. Actually...” Tepin watched as she moved a couple of the items to the side of his plate. “Be wary of the ‘wasabi’, this green paste. It’s extremely hot.”

“Spicy?” Tepin asked.

“Yes, very spicy. Please let me know if you need anything else,” she said, turning to leave him to his meal. His eyes played across the platter eagerly, he didn’t know where to start. There was enough food here to feed a whole flock.

There was more of that strange cutlery on the table, but he wasn’t sure how to use it, and so he reached out to pluck one of the marbled strips of ‘rosu’ from the plate. He popped it into his mouth, giving it a tentative chew, his taste buds lighting up like a color panel. It was wonderful! It was so much richer and meatier than Gue’tra flesh, the flavors so complex. It was smoky and salty, and the texture was so perfect. It almost seemed to melt on his tongue as he chewed, his feathers flashing pink and yellow as he savored it.

Each type of meat had a unique flavor, the pork had more fat, and the beef was denser. His favorite of all was the chicken, it tasted remarkably similar to the Gue’tra meat that he was accustomed to eating back home, albeit a little dryer.

He savored every bite as he devoured the platter, pausing to clean the juices from his claws. He was so engrossed in the meat dish that he had almost forgotten about the ‘sushi’, the allure of fresh fish eventually diverting his attention.

He wasn’t sure how to eat them, should the small parcels of rice and fish be devoured whole, or unwrapped and eaten in their individual components? It was unlikely that the Chef would have gone to such lengths for presentation alone, and so he decided to eat them as they were. He selected one of the morsels, popping it into his mouth.

Again, his vibrant feathers advertised his delight, Tepin chewing as his ornate plumes bobbed in the air above his head. The rice was sweet and sticky, while the fish was cool on his tongue, imparting flavors from an alien ocean that was at once familiar and strange. He would have to access the station’s information network later on and find out what kind of fish this ‘salmon’ came from. It was the equal of any delicacies on the homeworld, its flesh so delicate and soft.

There were so many varieties of sushi, and he wanted to sample all of them, save perhaps the ‘wasabi’ that the Earth’nay had warned him of. Many plants evolved painful irritants as a defense mechanism used to deter animals from eating them. Why the humans enjoyed the burning sensation, he had no idea.

Next, he sampled one of the ones that had been wrapped in black seaweed. The meat in this one came from a ‘shrimp’, according to his waitress. He leaned back against the padded chair, biting into the soft flesh, its ocean flavor complimented by the sweetness of the rice and the salty taste of the seaweed. Doubtless, he could spend his entire visit just sampling different Earth’nay delicacies at different establishments around the station, he was almost tempted. But his work here was not culinary in nature, he needed to find more things to paint and sculpt.

Come to think of it...

His eyes scanned the mostly unoccupied room, the mirrored floor, and the stone pillars. Why not capture this moment? The décor was uniquely human, his dishes were full of color and texture, this was something that the people back home would want to see.

Tepin reached into his pocket and withdrew his visor case again, dropping the pane of glass onto his snout and reaching up to turn on the computer. The HUD came to life, and he gestured in the air, selecting the right mode. He wasn’t about to sculpt each individual piece of meat and sushi, this situation called for a more traditional style.

The visor projected a canvas in front of him, and he locked it in place, as though there was an easel standing between his seat and the table. He tweaked the transparency a little so that he could see through the matte white square, then selected a texture that resembled fabric stretched over a wooden frame. He wanted to capture the entire scene, not merely one or two objects.

His fingers serving as brushes, he began to paint, the muscular feather sheaths on his wrists snaking down to pluck pieces of sushi from his plate like tentacles as he waved his hands in the air. It would be a challenge to paint his meal before he was compelled to eat it...

“Sir? Is everything alright?” the waitress asked as she returned to his table with a tablet computer in her hands. Tepin looked up from his painting, blinking at her through the glass of his visor, realizing that what he was doing might look strange without context.

“Quite. I am painting,” he replied.

“Painting?” she repeated.

“That is my profession,” he continued, “I was sent here by the Ensi to paint what I see. I will bring it back to Valbara as a record of all that I encountered in my travels.”

“Like a journalist,” she said, nodding her head. “I see. Well, I’m sure the manager will be happy to know that you liked his restaurant enough to paint it.”

“And the food,” he added, “it was excellent.”

“I’ll be sure to let the Chef know,” she chuckled. “I’ve brought your bill, the address for the account is here,” she said as she set the tablet down on the table beside the now mostly empty plates. “Thank you for visiting, I hope that we’ll see you again.”

He thanked the woman, then took a few moments to transfer the currency. Although Valbara had recently received a quantum relay satellite that allowed the planet to communicate instantly with the Coalition in spite of its great distance, the bandwidth was limited, and it was used primarily for official purposes. That meant that he couldn’t access his family’s account, and so he had brought some currency with him, albeit in digital form. It was so odd to have to carry bits of data around as though they were physical coins, but sending and then receiving a request to transfer money from the account back home would have taken approximately one hundred and thirty years. The waitress probably wouldn’t wait that long...

After a little currency conversion, it was done, and the woman bade him farewell as he moved to the exit. He had eaten a lot, perhaps a little too much. Tepin would have to watch his figure while he was on the station.

He waited beside the glass door to the torus, choosing the right moment to dart across the walkway and return to the safety of the planters. Not that he was in any position to make demands of the station’s engineers, but a small maglev rail that could transport Valbara’nay visitors above the dangerous crowds would be a welcome addition. There was certainly room for it, the space between the deck and the painted ceiling was mostly going to waste.

A pack of Borealans recoiled as he passed in front of them, alarmed by his sudden appearance, perhaps assuming that he was some kind of escaped pet. Their round ears swiveled atop their heads, tracking him as he vanished into the bushes.

Once he was securely nestled in the shrubs, Tepin began to make his way upspin once more, as the Earth’nay referred to it. There was no North and South on a space station, and so its inhabitants referred to the directions as either up or downspin, depending on the rotation of the habitat. He followed the long planter until he reached the end, hopping down and coming across an information kiosk. How opportune, he needed to decide where to head next.

He walked up to it, the device little more than an eight-foot, metal pillar with a holographic display that rotated around it at about Earth’nay chest-height. As he approached, it seemed to sense his presence, the holographic ring sliding down the shining tube to put itself at a comfortable height for him. It must adjust itself to the stature of the user, the Earth’nay had created many unusual innovations to accommodate the various species that shared the station with them.

Tepin reached out and played his fingers through the floating text, finding that it was very similar in function to the technology that he was already accustomed to using. Touch controls and interactive holograms seemed to have been developed independently by both species.

What he really wanted was to see more of the ships. Was there some kind of observation lounge on the station? He scrolled through the text, his violet eyes scanning the floating images. Perhaps the Earth’nay would let him into one of the hangar bays if he asked? It was unlikely, but he wanted to get a look at one of their enormous carriers for himself. He should check out the rest of the tourist quarter along the way, who knew what other oddities he might discover?

He leapt up into the bushes again, resuming his trek, threading between the shrubs and the round trunks of the alien trees. Once again, he marveled at the size of them, how densely packed some of the plants were. The station hadn’t been built with his kind in mind, but the foliage provided him a lot of privacy, it made it easier to forget that he was on a purely artificial structure that was spinning through space like a giant wheel.

His foot touched something that wasn’t soil, Tepin pausing, peering down at what looked like a moss-covered log. He gave it another tentative tap with a clawed toe, and then it began to rise from the dirt, a low rumbling sound making his teeth chatter. He froze in place as he realized that it was a long snout, jagged teeth protruding from lipless jaws, layers of dark green scales giving way to hanging skin that was a lighter beige in color. The thing rose to head height, everything save for its thick, powerfully muscled neck obscured by the abundance of plant life that surrounded it. It shook itself, the wet soil that was clinging to its scales raining to the planter below, a nearby bush rustling as the creature’s sheer mass displaced it.

Tepin gazed up into a pair of yellow, reptilian eyes, the alien blinking at him. It exhaled through a pair of large nostrils, then opened its mouth, revealing a maw that could have swallowed him whole. There were so many mismatched teeth, the mucous membranes a muted blue in color, an azure tongue that must have been as long as he was tall flexing as the creature yawned.

His feathers flashed in alarm, creating an explosion of color that seemed to startle the creature, its long head recoiling as his fight or flight instincts kicked in. Before he knew what was happening, Tepin had darted into the branches of a nearby tree, his muscles firing reflexively. His claws dug into the rough bark for purchase as he looked down to see the alien cocking its head at him.

It was a Krell, how could he not have recognized it? She was enormous. From his new vantage point, he could make out her long body as it trailed off into the shrubs. She had been lying on her belly, sleeping perhaps, before he had disturbed her by stepping on her nose. Her body plan was familiar to him, yet also alien. Her oar-like tail was packed with fat and muscle, so wide at the base that he could have lain down inside it with room to spare. It made up about half of her length, high enough that it would have reached past his waist if he were to stand beside it. Her legs were digitigrade, like his own, currently tucked up against her body. She had raised herself on her forearms, one of her many-fingered hands resting atop the other as she craned her neck to get a better look at him.

Her back was as rough as the trunk of the tree that he was clinging to, covered in overlapping scutes that resembled plate armor, providing her with an incredible amount of protection. The scales on her underside were smoother and finer, more like those of a Valbaran, a tiny mosaic with an almost waxy sheen. Her body was so bulky, the breadth of her shoulders the equivalent of four or five of his own people standing side by side, her arms packed with muscle. She might be sixteen feet long, at least fifteen hundred pounds, if not more. Tepin was like an insect in comparison.

She climbed to her feet, the muscles in her powerful thighs and calves bulging beneath her scales, her limbs almost as thick around as the tree trunk. It was a miracle that she didn’t sink into the soil, but her feet were wide, her seven toes splayed far apart to provide more surface area. His claws dug into the bark as she rose up, her nine-foot height putting her level with his chosen branch despite her somewhat hunched posture.

Her every movement seemed to make her titanic body quiver, her footsteps sending a ripple along her chubby tail, the meat of her thighs wobbling. Now that he could see her underside, he noted that her figure was firmer than it had first appeared. Her torso was laden with a layer of fat that extended to her neck and tail, giving her somewhat of a soft belly, but she lacked breasts entirely. In their place was a pair of developed pectoral muscles, firm and hard, like slabs of concrete.

Tepin was struck by her beauty. She was like a statue chiseled from jade that had been brought to life, as though a sculpture of an ancient Valbara’nay war deity had stepped down from her pedestal, cold stone given warmth and vigor. His feathers flashed pink as his eyes were drawn to her powerful thighs and her long snout, almost in disbelief, his heart racing for reasons other than fear now.

The Krell seemed as curious about him as he was about her. She moved around the trunk, trying to get a better look at him, the leaves rustling as the branches of the tree shook with her every step. Her claws raked the bark as she lay a hand against it, Tepin noting that she had seven fingers. Her bulging bicep alone was larger than the circumference of the average female’s thigh.

She loosed a low, rumbling call that he could feel in his very bones, making the hanging skin beneath her jaw vibrate. It was a little alarming, reminding him of the terrifying pulse of a predatory Teth’rak, but there was a gentleness behind her yellow eyes that slowly coaxed him down from his branch.

He dropped to the floor, so light that he barely disturbed the soil, peering up at the alien as she looked down at him from what seemed to be an insurmountable height. He realized that she was nude, she wasn’t wearing so much as a loincloth. That said, she had no visible genitalia, the scales between her legs were as smooth as those of her belly. She didn’t seem to need clothes...

He willed his feathers to collapse back into their sheaths, knowing that she didn’t understand the meaning of his pink coloration, but feeling embarrassed all the same. He spoke up, his high-pitched, tinny voice carrying through the trees.

“H-Hello,” he said, hoping that she spoke English. She cocked her head again, her hanging skin swaying with the motion, then raised a hand in what looked like a greeting. Good, she seemed to have understood. “My name is Tepin’chi’atli,” he continued, waiting for a reply. The Krell emitted a strange warbling that sounded like someone trying to speak underwater. Was that her name? He tried to mimic her, but her vocalizations were so incredibly powerful, almost subsonic. They were felt as much as they were heard, and he had no way to approximate such a low and resonating note. She seemed confused by his attempt, standing there motionless as she waited for him to continue, as immovable as a mountain.

Tepin had hoped that he would meet a Krell, but now that one was standing in front of him, he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to tell her that she was magnificent, that her beauty was transcendent, but what would she even say to that? He didn’t know a thing about her and her people, save for hearsay and rumor from the homeworld, so he just stood there and gazed up at her.

She seemed to grow bored of him, Tepin scooting back a few paces as she dropped to all-fours, emitting another rumbling vocalization that made his internal organs shake as she returned to the dirt. She flopped down onto her belly, extending her long body, the impact very nearly bouncing him into the air. Leaves from the trees above rained down on him, the Krell exhaling loudly, her eyes closing.

He was going to miss his chance if he didn’t act quickly, this was what that he been waiting for, the opportunity to capture one of these magnificent creatures in all their glory.

“May I paint you?” he stammered, unable to prevent his feathers from flaring again. She opened one eye lazily, its amber hue catching the dappled light that bled through the branches above, almost making it seem to glow.

The alien rumbled, then rolled onto her side, keeping her eyes closed as she lounged beneath the heat of the sunlamps above. Was that a ‘yes’? He hadn’t even considered that he might not be able to communicate with her properly, the humans and Borealans made it all seem so natural and easy.

Tepin locked his legs, fishing in his pocket for his carrying case and placing his visor on his snout. He reached up and switched it on, the familiar glow of the orange HUD lighting up to overlay his hands with holographic markers. The Krell was lying still, the fallen leaves near her snout blowing. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to be a good model, or if she was just asleep, but he began to paint all the same.

She had such a classical appearance, a traditional style of painting was the only thing that could adequately convey her beauty. He selected an appropriate easel, peering around it for a moment before increasing its horizontal size by twenty-five percent. There was a ‘lot’ of Krell to capture.

He selected a suitable fabric texture, starting off with charcoal as he began to sketch her figure. His eyes traced her impressive musculature as he drew, compelled to examine her alien body in intimate detail. Her snout was as long as he was tall, her neck tapering into developed shoulders, her muscle tone visible even beneath her leathery hide. She was still very streamlined, and he remembered that her people were semi-aquatic. Her teeth were a little frightening, jutting at random from her lipless maw when she was at rest, but it gave her an air of savagery that he found oddly exciting.

Her torso was massive, the beginnings of abdominal muscles just visible beneath her pectorals before they were buried under the fat layer. She was so wide that if he were to attempt to wrap his arms around her waist, he wouldn’t even have gotten half-way. There was an alluring heft to her, the fat beneath the smooth scales of her underbelly doing little to detract from her obvious strength. She had the figure of powerlifter, this was all functional brawn, necessary for her lifestyle. Something about that made her all the more alluring. Nature had endowed her with this strength, not vanity.

Her left leg was tucked up against her body as she lay on her side, the right one extended, Tepin trying to concentrate on his work as his eyes lingered once again on her thighs. They were so immense, thicker than his torso, and they would need to be to stand any chance of lifting her weight. The legs of a Valbara’nay female were a subject of fixation for many males, the stronger, the better. They all paled in comparison to what was lying before him, there was probably more muscle in one of her thighs than there was in a Valbara’nay’s entire body.

Tepin realized that his feathers were rising again, and he cleared his throat, focusing on sketching her powerful calves. As he moved down her body, he was again transfixed by another of her exaggerated features, her hefty tail. That was another trait that males of his species found appealing, and it went without saying that hers was impressive.

When his sketching was done, he moved onto the detailing, trying to capture her every scale and scute. He embellished the bushes and trees a little, making them more vibrant, adding more flowers until she was practically lying on a carpet of petals.

At last, it was time to paint. His careful strokes captured the green of her scales, highlighting her underbelly with a waxy shine. He used dappled light and deep shadow to pick out every dimple of muscle, to convey her sheer power.

Time seemed to stand still when he was engrossed in his work, his arms beginning to ache, the pedestrians that passed by beyond the planter fading far into the background. His model never moved, she just lay there, the only signs of life the occasional shifting of her tail.

When the final brush stroke was complete, he awoke as though roused from a dream, his conscious mind crawling back to the forefront as he admired his work. The piece was evocative of Valbara’nay antiquity, his chosen medium oil on canvas, the style replicated perfectly. There was a veritable jungle of blooming flowers serving as a bed upon which the Krell lay, her lounging form serving as the radiant centerpiece, hanging vines adding even more color to the scene. The light filtered through the canopy, her scutes catching it, one of her amber eyes open to peer at the observer. It was serene, provocative, he had outdone himself.

This was why he had come here, to find inspiration, to rekindle the burning flame that had first compelled him to take up a paintbrush all those years ago.

“Thank you,” he breathed, doubting that he could ever truly convey the awe that she had inspired in him. To his surprise, she stirred, one of her scaly eyelids opening. The ground shook as she climbed to her feet and lumbered over to him, her snout descending from the sky, her breath misting the glass of his visor. His feathers flashed yellow and pink, alarming the creature, her massive head withdrawing.