Chapter 8: Honeypot

The sun was getting low, painting the sky in shades of red and orange that were reflected in the snow, silhouetting their destination in its glow. The refinery was growing larger by the hour, and now, it was close enough for them to see the shafts of sunlight that penetrated its many pipes and catwalks. Boyd could make out the storage tanks, the cooling towers for the fission reactors, and even the ice drilling platforms that extended deep into the moon’s subsurface ocean.

Water ice was a valuable commodity. Having it in both solid and liquid form, along with free oxygen to siphon from the atmosphere, made the moon an ideal location. Humans breathed oxygen, they drank water, and hydrogen was what fueled conventional spaceship engines. All of them could be sourced right here.

Wherever there was a colony or an outpost, there would be an ice refinery on a nearby stellar body, if not on the planet itself. Asteroids, comets, gas giants, and frozen moons like this one all contained water ice in abundance. It could be broken down into its component elements through a process known as thermochemical cracking, where it was heated by a nuclear reactor to the point that the hydrogen and oxygen atoms were separated. This one must have been placed here by ExoCorp to supply Hades with fuel and drinking water, and to resupply the ships that docked at the planet’s orbital station. With any luck, it would be manned by civilian workers, or it might be completely automated. The possibility of Syndicate stooges taking control of the facility couldn’t be ruled out, but it wasn’t as if they had any other options. Better to keep his concerns to himself so as not to put a damper on Lorza’s good mood.

“We should find a place to take shelter soon,” he said. “Though, I’m loathe to stop when our destination is this close. I feel like I could reach out and touch it.”

“There are plenty of small ice caves around here,” Lorza replied. “We have enough food to last us for days, and there are no monsters on our tail, so there is no need to hurry. We can take a break, and you can cook us up some supper.”

“All you think about is food,” Boyd chided, the Polar patting her belly in response.

“I must keep the engine running.”

“Granted, you’re starving, but I still feel like you’re the only person who appreciates my cooking.”

“Does your wife not enjoy your cooking?” Lorza asked, glancing back at him over her shoulder as she stepped over a patch of ice.

“Don’t have one,” he replied, lugging his sled along. “I couldn’t in my line of work.”

“Poor Boyd,” she cooed, putting on an exaggerated pout. “No mate to cook for him, so he must eat his own terrible food. Lorza will have to teach him.”

“You’re going to teach me to cook?” he chuckled incredulously.

“Of course,” she replied, placing a hand on her chest proudly. “We Polars are natural-born chefs, and I was the ship’s cook, if you had forgotten. When we get off this moon, I shall have you making borscht like a true babushka in no time. Then, you can woo a mate.”

“Oh, is that my problem?” Boyd chuckled. “I would have taken a class if I’d known that was all it took.”

“There is a human adage that shows uncharacteristic wisdom,” she continued, raising a finger into the air as though sermonizing. “The path to the heart is through the stomach. This is true for my people also. Literally – the stomach is the organ that Polars associate with emotion, not the heart.”

“I can barely contain my surprise,” he replied.

“Food is central to our culture,” she continued, ignoring his sarcasm. “Hunting together reinforces our social bonds, and preparing the kill brings us together. When the whole pack feasts at the same table and shares the fruits of their labor, we grow as a family. After all, what greater expression of love can there be than sharing resources when they are scarce – to go hungry for the sake of another?”

Boyd hadn’t really thought about it in that light before, but for a species that lived in such harsh conditions, such a simple gesture could hold great meaning for them. No wonder she had appreciated him sharing the squid meat.

“How about you?” Boyd asked, crossing the patch of blue ice gingerly as he extended his arms for balance. “Is there a Mister Persian rug waiting for you back home?”

“Borealans do not pair off in the way that humans do,” she replied. “Well, when we are trying to mate, we sometimes have exclusive partners for a time. Generally speaking, all members of a pack and sometimes members of that pack’s community will lie with one another freely. There is no stigma associated with seeking love and affection in such a way.”

“Sounds like some kind of commune,” Boyd muttered.

“Humans are monogamous, and they are said to pair for life,” Lorza replied. “In my experience, this claim is rarely true. I have known them to have multiple partners in sequence and even to seek out new mates in secret. Some who visit the Siberian colony quickly find that our way of approaching relationships suits them far better.”

That was certainly something to think about – a whole village of Lorzas. Just one of them was more than he could handle.

“So ... you’ve never met anyone that you really liked?” he asked. “Does it even work that way for you?”

“Oh, sure,” she said as she helped him over another patch of slippery ice. “We have favorites. I have never found a mate, though. Not in the way that a human would understand the concept.”

“And ... have you ever been with a human?” Boyd asked hesitantly, trying to phrase the question in a way that sounded less suggestive. “I hear stories about Equatorials from the Marines – word is they get up to a lot when they’re off-duty. If people are visiting your colony...”

“Why? Are you interested in being my first?”

She laughed at him as he shook his head vehemently.

“No, I’m just curious,” he insisted as he raised his hands defensively. “It’s not every day that I get to have a heart-to-heart with an alien.”

“I have never laid with a human,” she replied, her openness surprising him. “There was one who interested me,” she added, seeming to reminisce. “A boy who I met while I was studying in the city. He was cute, and we hit it off, as you would say. We shared many classes, and I could sense that he had little experience with women. He liked me, though. Perhaps talking to an eight-foot alien was less intimidating than talking to a female of his own species,” she chuckled. “One night, he accompanied me back to my dorm. I had told him that I needed help with my studies, but it was a pretense to get him alone, of course.”

“What happened?” Boyd asked.

“I propositioned him, but he said no,” she replied with a shrug. “Not all humans are so accepting of aliens in that way.”

“His loss,” Boyd said, Lorza giving him a sideways glance.

“Why do you say that?”

“He passed up an opportunity to try something unique,” Boyd explained. “I doubt he’ll get that chance again. You should always seize the moment and try new things. Even if you end up not liking them, at least you can say that you gave them a fair shake.”

She reached over and gently punched his shoulder. She was being playful, but she was still strong enough to knock him off balance, the Polar grinning at him as he stumbled.

“I did not expect such wisdom from you, malish. What about you? Ever been subjected to a night with an Equatorial?”

“Can’t say that I have,” he replied, shaking his head. “It probably comes as no surprise to you, but there aren’t many positions suitable for Equatorials in my profession. They’re not exactly the most subtle or tactful operatives. Why do you phrase it like that, by the way? Are they really that bad?”

“Worse,” she said with a sordid chuckle. “They make love like they fight – there is a winner and a loser, and they give no quarter.”

“What about Polars?” Boyd asked, shooting her a curious glance that she answered with a smile.

“We put a little more thought and care into it than that,” she replied. “For us, making love is a social experience, one that we use to reinforce bonds between members of a community. There is little distinction between a friend and a lover.” She paused the thought, gesturing past him with a clawed finger. “Look – a cave opening. We should stop here and get some rest.”

Boyd nodded in agreement, somewhat relieved by the change of subject, and they changed course as they headed towards the mouth of the cave. This one was a little more cramped than the last, the ceiling low enough that Lorza had to duck, but there was just enough room to lie down in one of the shallower chambers. Before long, Lorza had laid out the sleeping bag, and Boyd was cooking up another portion of squid steaks.

He flipped the cut of meat over, watching it sizzle, its scent filling the little cave. If he could forget the mobsters who were out for his blood and the man-eating squids that filled the subsurface ocean beneath their feet, it was almost cozy. Maybe he should take a well-earned vacation once he got back to civilization – do a little camping.

Lorza hovered beside him, eyeing the browning meat, licking her chops as Boyd turned it with his ceramic knife.

“If only we had something warm to drink,” she muttered. “We could boil some snow, yes, but I would fight another squid for a warm mug of sbiten.”

“The fuck is sbiten?” Boyd asked as he tended to the stove.

“It is a Russian drink,” she explained. “It is a kind of mulled wine, I suppose, made from a base of honey. They add ginger, cinnamon, cloves, and other spices. It is best served hot, like tea. Polars do not have much appreciation for sweet flavors like humans do, but we enjoy the drink’s other elements. It will warm one’s belly on a cold day.”

“Well, there were tea packets in the MREs,” Boyd said as he paused to glance at her. “But, you ate them.”

“Calories are calories,” she replied with a shrug.

“This one is nearly done,” Boyd added, flipping the steak over again. “Maybe a hot meal will warm you up just as well as ... what was it?”

“Sbiten,” she replied with a chuckle. Boyd handed the steak off to her, Lorza hooking it in her claws, steam rising from it in the chill air. She took a wet bite as he set another portion to cook, licking the juice from her chin with her prehensile tongue. Every time he saw the damned thing, it seemed to get longer.

“You do not give yourself enough credit, Boyd,” she sighed as she swallowed another mouthful. “This is like heaven. Perhaps it is the mild malnutrition talking, but I could eat this all night. We Polars like our meat oily.”

“Considering that I watched you put away about two hundred pounds of the stuff raw, I don’t doubt it,” he replied.

Lorza scooted a little closer on the plush sleeping bag, draping an arm over his shoulders and pulling him closer, Boyd feeling his head sink into one of her weighty breasts like a pillow.

“You know,” she began, pausing to saw off another piece of meat with her sharp teeth. “We are likely the only people who have ever laid eyes on one of these animals, let alone eaten one. We should name it!”

“Name it?” Boyd chuckled, trying to focus on his stove rather than the giant rack that was threatening to swallow his head.

“Yes,” she insisted. “We discovered it, so we should name it. That is customary, nyet?” She scratched her chin with one of her black claws as she considered. ““How about... ice devil?”

“Not bad, not bad,” Boyd mused as he prodded his steak. “Needs to sound more aquatic, though. What about an octo-stalker?”

“I know!” Lorza declared, bumping his head again in her enthusiasm. “Do you know of the Rainbow Spider?”

“Can’t say I’ve heard of it,” Boyd replied. “I assume you’re about to tell me all about it, though.”

“It is a huge predator that lives in the equatorial jungles of Borealis,” she explained, finishing off the last piece of her steak. “It is covered in beautiful, iridescent fur that refracts the light, hence its name. The Elysians especially see hunting one as a rite of passage for their warriors, and its pelt is often worn as capes or robes as a symbol of status. This creature was also colorful and dangerous,” she continued with a nod to his stove. “Why not name it a Rainbow Squid?”

“Fair enough,” Boyd conceded, blowing on his steak as he brought it to his mouth. He took a bite, juggling it around for a moment before continuing. “Rainbow squid it is, and this right here is Boyd’s home-cooked flame-grilled rainbow squid steak, patent pending.”

She laughed and brought her head down level with his, rubbing her fur against his cheek in a display of affection that surprised him. Without his hood, he was once again struck by how soft it was, her warm coat like velvet against his skin. Polars really were a tactile people – so much of their communication happened through touch. It had been alarming at first, but he was starting to grow accustomed to it now.

“Your suit is so warm,” she marveled. The Polar smirked to herself, then slid her hands around his torso, lifting him off the sleeping bag as though he was no larger than a child. He lurched as she planted him in her lap, crossing her arms around him and pulling him into a tight embrace. Her pudgy thighs made for an admirable seat, softer and more inviting than any recliner, and the paunch of her belly cushioned his lower back. Breasts that were each larger than his head spilled over his shoulders, barely contained by the much-suffering fabric of her coveralls, their considerable weight coming to rest on him. Even through the tough material of her work clothes, he could feel himself slowly sinking into them, as though her velvet-soft fat was trying to take a mold of his upper body. Even when he tried to wriggle away, all he succeeded in doing was sinking another couple of warm, yielding inches. “If only you could keep it turned on overnight,” she said, a pleasant shiver sliding down his spine as he felt her warm breath blow his hair. “It would be so nice.”

He finished off his steak, blushing in earnest, her gentle breathing making him all the more aware of her breasts as he felt their weight shift. She lay her chin on his head as she watched the fire dance beneath the little stove, Boyd practically wearing her like a coat, enveloped in fluffy fur and cushy fat. It was oddly relaxing – that was impossible to deny – the cold all but driven away by their combined heat. It felt... good to be held, as strange as that realization made him feel, and he thanked his stars that she couldn’t see his burning face from that high angle.

“You are quieter than usual,” Lorza mumbled, lifting her furry chin from his head. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m just ... relaxed.”

“I know that some humans do not like to be touched, but we are friends now, da?”

“I don’t mind you touching me,” he said, not really stopping to think about what he was saying.

“I think that you would be a credit to any pack that would have you,” she added. It was an oddly off-hand comment, and he peered up at her as she looked down at him with her blue eyes.

“Yeah? Why do you say that?”

“I think that you are a Polar at heart,” she explained, Boyd feeling her grip on him grow tighter. “You are a survivor, and you take care of your own. At least, once you have learned who your allies are,” she chuckled as she ruffled his hair affectionately with a giant hand.

“I guess the way to your heart really is through your stomach,” he said, and she laughed at him.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the flickering of the flame, Boyd feeling an unfamiliar tension growing within his chest. There was nowhere that he could rest his hands, nowhere he could sit where he wasn’t in contact with Lorza. He was acutely aware of the way that his fingers sank into the supple, doughy meat of her thighs, and how the weight of her chest leaned on his shoulders. Fuck, his head was practically nestled between her breasts, every subtle motion making them quiver.

He couldn’t stand it any longer, and he struggled out of her lap. Escaping her inviting flesh was as difficult as pulling himself out of quicksand, his hands sinking into her wherever he tried to find purchase, but he succeeded in climbing to his feet.

“What is the matter?” Lorza asked, cocking her head at him.

“I just ... bathroom break.”

He hurried off down one of the side tunnels, Lorza watching him with a quizzical expression. Once he had broken line of sight, he leaned against one of the cold ice walls. Hoping that it might have the same effect as taking a cold shower, he tapped at his display, lowering his suit’s temperature. His chest felt so tight – what the hell was wrong with him? He had endured her teasing, and he had resisted her attempts to get under his skin for days, but her genuine shows of affection were burning through his defenses like a hot knife. This wasn’t a form of interrogation – he couldn’t deal with this in the same way.

Did he like her?

He felt his heart skip a beat, his breath catching in his throat as the realization dizzied him. It felt like someone was inflating his heart with a bicycle pump, and it was about to explode. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He struggled to compose himself, drawing on the training that let him keep his head on straight in a firefight, but it was somehow even more difficult to focus. Frustrated, he tore his hood off and took a few gulps of fresh, frigid air. Logically, his mask wasn’t stopping him from breathing, but it was an illogical impulse.

The bite of the cold helped calm him a little, enough that he could put on a stoic front again, but how long would that last? The thought of sharing a sleeping bag with her again, as permissive and affectionate as she had become, filled him with a blend of dread and anticipation that made his mouth dry out. He had to do something about this. Could he endure her company for just one more night? Once they got back to civilization, there would be no further need to sleep together, no reason to be in such close proximity. Maybe that was the issue – they had become too familiar, and it was all starting to feel too normal.

He had to stick it out. In just a few more hours, it wouldn’t matter anymore, and she’d have no way of knowing about his temporary lapse. Lying was his job, playing a role was his profession, and this was no different.

Boyd took a few more moments to compose himself, doing a breathing exercise usually reserved for far more dire situations, then slid his hood back over his head. When he made his way back up the tunnel, he found Lorza waiting for him, her blue eyes and her fluffy ears tracking him as he returned to sit beside her. The silence seemed to bug her, so she broke it.

“Boyd,” she began, giving him a concerned look. “I may not be able to read you as easily as I can other humans, but I know you well enough by now to realize when you are acting out of character. You have been behaving strangely all day. Did I do something to upset you?”

“It’s nothing like that, just some digestive issues from the squid meat,” he replied with a dismissive shake of his head. “Listen, Lorza – we only have one night left before we’re off this rock, right? What do you say we get some sleep? I’m exhausted from all the walking we’ve been doing, and the sooner we pass out, the sooner we can be up and moving again.”

“Yes ... alright,” she replied, sounding unconvinced.

He had to admit, he wasn’t doing a very good job of concealing his emotions. Somehow, trying to hide the way he was starting to feel about her was so much more difficult than what he had been trained for. He felt as though he couldn’t look her in the eye, or she’d know.

Boyd lurched suddenly as he felt her giant, fluffy tail wind around his waist, the Polar dragging him into her waiting arms. She planted him in her lap again, enclosing him in a cocoon of flesh and fur, his head spinning as her familiar scent washed over him.

“At least share your heat if you are going to get all quiet on me, malish. It is getting colder – the sun must have set. Will you stop your wriggling?”

Boyd couldn’t escape her – she was too strong – so he gave in and let her manhandle him like an overly possessive girl with a new puppy. That pressure in his chest returned as he felt her soft, fluffy hands curl around his torso, the heft of her breasts coming to rest on his shoulders once more. All he could do was sit there and simmer quietly, not knowing how to object in a way that wouldn’t reveal the conflict that was raging within him.

“Your suit grows colder,” she murmured, loosening her grip on him as he breathed a silent sigh of relief into his mask. “You are running out of power, no? We should get into the sleeping bag, unless you want to become a Boyd popsicle.”

There was that blend of dread and anticipation again, Boyd nodding his head, Lorza letting him slide out of her grasp as she unzipped the sleeping bag. He tapped at his display, shutting down his suit to conserve what remained of its charge, feeling the tendrils of cold start to creep in. He turned to see Lorza lying snugly inside the bag, holding it open in invitation with one hand, her breasts squashing together under their own weight as she lay on her side.

“Come. I am letting the heat out.”

He steeled himself, then complied, lowering himself into the bag beside her. She closed it around them, then zipped it up, sealing him inside with her. Not wasting a moment, she scooped him up in her arm, tugging him close. She pressed him up against her voluptuous body, Boyd feeling himself sinking into her warm, soft flesh like she was draping a blanket over him. No matter what position he tried to shuffle into, he was always in contact with something round and squishy, her body heat already baking the inside of the bag.

It should have been no more uncomfortable than the previous nights – it wasn’t like had hadn’t endured this before – but she was being extra affectionate and handsy since she had declared them friends. She draped one of her long arms around his waist, her breasts practically consuming his right shoulder as she dragged him closer, pushing her face into the nape of his neck to nuzzle him like a cat.

“My people sleep in piles,” she explained, her hot breath blowing on his shoulder. “I am glad you warmed up to me, Boyd. I can relax around you now, and I sleep much more soundly when I can feel someone else close to me – their warmth, the sound of their heartbeat.”

Could she hear his heart pounding like a hammer with those sensitive ears? Her flowery scent was unavoidable, every breath that he took making his head spin, butterflies swarming in his belly. What the hell was wrong with him? He hadn’t felt this way since he was a damned teenager. Lorza seemed to notice, his face burning as she peeled back his hood, then gently pressed the back of her furry hand against his forehead as though she was checking his temperature.

“Are you sick?” she asked. “Your face is so warm.”

“N-no, I’m fine,” he stammered as he blinked back at her. “Just the stress getting to me, I guess.”

She hooked her clawed hand around the back of his head, sinking her fingers into his hair, and pulled him closer to bury his face in her furry bosom. He breathed in her scent without the filter of his mask, his heart quickening as she scratched his scalp, pleasant shivers rolling down his spine with each gentle prick of her claws. Her coat was impossibly soft against his cheeks – thick, silky, and luxuriant.

Were all Polars this affectionate with one another? Was this normal behavior for them? It was far from his first time sharing a bed with a woman, but he had never felt this kind of intimacy before. It was as if compassion was leaking from her very pores. He felt more wanted in that moment than he ever had, even in the heat of lovemaking. The sensation was confusing and exciting – it made him feel drunk. His head swam as he remembered what she had told him earlier – that there was no distinction between friends and lovers in her culture. Did that only apply to other Polars or to him, too?

“There you go, just relax,” she purred as her hypnotic stroking continued. Her hand was covered in fluffy fur, like she was wearing a mink glove, while her sharp claws felt like the teeth of a comb. “You are so tense tonight. We will be free of this place tomorrow. Get some rest.”

Her voice was soft and low, husky yet feminine, her breath tickling his skin as she murmured in his ear. He should pull his hood back up – put his rebreather back on, but he didn’t want it to end. Did she even know what she was doing to him? No, she couldn’t influence him like she could other humans – she had said so herself. Unbeknownst to her, years of training in resisting everything from persuasion to outright torture had steeled him against her wiles, but this was something different. He wanted this.

That pressure inside him was reaching its boiling point. He felt as if he might explode if he didn’t say something – anything. This would be their last night together, his last chance to act on these feelings. What was it he had said to her? You should seize the moment, let no opportunity pass you by, and never fear new experiences.

“Lorza,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by her silky fur.

“What is it?” she asked. “Are you finally going to tell me why you have been acting so strange tonight?”

“I ... I think I might be attracted to you,” he admitted, speaking into her collar to avoid having to look her in the eye for fear that he might melt into a puddle. “What do we do about that?”

She released him from her embrace, looking down at him with an expression that was a blend of surprise and confusion. She was usually so snarky – she had a comeback for every scenario – but she was speechless now. His face burned as he stammered through the rest of his confession, each sentence making him feel more and more like he had made a grave mistake.

“It might sound dumb, but being stranded here with you – it’s the closest I’ve been to anyone in a long time. Maybe it’s because we’ve both been through the same shit, or maybe it’s because we’ve had no choice but to spend every waking moment together, but you might be the only person alive who knows me as intimately as you do. I’m a UNNI spook – I can’t even tell most people my real name. From the moment I met you, I’ve been lying to you, and it’s only gotten harder. Now, I feel like I can’t even look you in the eye without spilling my guts. What kind of a lousy spy does that make me?”

Her shocked expression softened, replaced by one that was warm and somehow hungry. She didn’t reply, but he got the impression that she was waiting for him to continue.

“Maybe I was only making fun of your figure and your fur because I was trying to deny how much I like it,” he continued. He was rambling now, his embarrassment welling as she scrutinized him with her piercing, blue gaze. “It was just a defense mechanism, I guess. I didn’t want you to know how much I looked forward to sleeping with you – I didn’t want to admit it to myself...”

She reached up to cup one of his burning cheeks in her hand, the delicate fur that covered her palm tickling his skin, tilting his head up so that she could see his face. His breath caught in his throat as she leaned down to press her lips against his. They were so much larger and fuller than those of a human, scaled up in proportion with her eight-foot stature, softer than he could ever have anticipated. As mismatched as they were, Lorza still found a way to lock them to his, subjecting him to a slow and gentle kiss. His heart skipped a beat as he felt the tip of that long, sinuous tongue probe his mouth, the Polar’s pace tentative and exploratory. She had never kissed a human before, and she was probing him, perhaps trying to figure out how much of it he could handle. The soft smacking sound of their embrace was amplified in the silence of the cave, Boyd’s eyelids fluttering as her deft tongue began to explore him.

Its heat surprised him, contrasting with the cool air that surrounded them, its surface slick with her saliva. She started with just the pointed tip, but as her confidence grew, she piled more of its fat coils into his mouth inch by glistening inch. The length of wet muscle twisted and squirmed, bulging his cheeks as it glanced their sensitive inner lining, tickling the roof of his mouth with each exploratory stroke. Its copper flavor pricked his taste buds as he did his best to match her pace, but this was nothing like kissing a human – he was completely on the back foot. She was so strong, so large, and it could easily have become overwhelming if she wasn’t so doting and gentle. Every so often, he could feel the cat-like barbs that lined its upper surface, but she was so skilled that they rarely came into contact with him. Something about her caution made him feel like he was being touched for the first time again, and he found himself pressing closer to her, his hands delving into the fur that lined her cheeks.