This is a short story that was serialized on my blog in 2013; it concerns the Kekrax, who make a brief appearance in my forthcoming novel, The Fall.
Two-Five of Four-Seven Slash Second scurried down the corridor of the station, tails held high, though his Slash First mate-brother had warned him the humans were averse to seeing Kekrax tails seeming to float through the air. It ‘unsettled’ them. Hurry was needful, and hurry he could not, if his tails – magnificent they were, admired by many Slash First including his own – were down, or if they were discreetly wrapped around his long torso.
He was careful, still, to change his personal scent. The humans he passed would not remember him.
There it was! The ventilation tube he sought lay near floor level in the outer ring of the station Earth’s children called “Tau Ceti.” A square grate covered the opening, secured with nothing more than a magnetic seal. His right tail twitched in amusement. This would be simpler than he had anticipated.
“Hey now, what are you doing here, little guy?”
Two-Five’s inner eyelids snapped down as he turned his back on the grate. Looming over him was a large and hairy male in the uniform of a warrior for Earth Central Command. Beige hair sprouted from his head, from his face, even from the backs of his hands, and he smelled like a sh’pkr’ah factory. On instinct, his left tail whipped around into the air between them, ready. He dipped his head in submission.
“Two-Five of Four-Seven, Slash Second, is lost, male human,” he answered, tail tip quivering. “He stops here to gather his thoughts.”
The human revealed his teeth. Two-Five stiffened his muscles, preparing to flee, then relaxed, remembering his Slash First’s words; these creatures showed their teeth to express friendliness. He waved the end of his left tail, weaving a complex message. More teeth showed.
“Name’s Jackson. Don’t stop here too long now, understand?”
“He understands, male Jackson.”
The Jackson male bobbed his head and turned away, heading anti-spin-wise down the outer ring.
Two-Five opened the pouch slung between his second pair of arms and removed a station map. The map did not mark the locations of the observation devices the humans installed at regular intervals along Tau Ceti’s outer ring, but he knew where they were. His Slash First’s research had been thorough.
Observation devices could not be influenced, of course. He opened the map. The devices pointed in his direction would only show the observers a lost Slash Second, while he watched, waiting for the moment he knew was coming. In preparation, he wove his left tail in the air around him with a simple message to obscure his presence.
The anticipation made his right tail quiver.
A nearby door opened, and a stream of humans came through it. Inevitably, some of them blocked the view between himself and the observation devices. During one of those moments, he disappeared into the ventilation shaft.
The ventilation shaft reminded Two-Five of a broodmale’s tunnel: a tight fit for an adult Slash Second. He was flat on his long belly, crouching on his four legs, supporting his upper body with two of his four arms and holding the pouch in front of his head with the other two. Silent as a swamp predator, he headed anti-spin-wise along the shaft.
It does not spin, he thought, as he came to his first objective: the turn into a shaft to the station’s inner ring. He took the turn, edging around the awkward corner with care. Almost, he became stuck, but he was patient; a scale at a time, he crept around the ninety-degree turn, until he was at last straight and true and moving like a whisper along the station spoke.
Another turn, this one a little easier to navigate, and he was in the inner ring.
There it was, the little kiosk in which was embedded a perfect epsilon ruby.
The human who attended the kiosk did not know the ruby was perfect and therefore worth far, far more than he was offering in trade. Such perfection! Such beauty! Two-Five peered through the grating at the gem, his right tail trembling with emotion. He clutched the pouch with his trade offer.
The ventilation shaft here would be tricky to exit without being seen, but it could be done. Here, on this side of things, hurry was not so needful. Lazily, he wove a message of tranquility with his left tail. The air flow from this grate headed directly toward the jeweled kiosk. By the time he could exit unobserved, the human would be well-pleased with his offer.
“You want what? What are you doing here? This area is for station personnel only!”
Two-Five held up the pouch with the cash, head lowered in respectful submission, as the kiosk attendant, more acceptably smooth than the beige and hairy Jackson male, loomed over him. This human was not as peaceable as he should have been, for as long as Two-Five had woven his message of tranquility into the air, but it would have to do. Hurry was needful now; he had to complete the trade and return to the ventilation shaft before the uniformed warriors came.
“Please, venerated human male,” he said, “take from Two-Five of Four-Seven, Slash Second, this pouch and open it to view the offering I make for the gem.”
The human took the pouch and narrowed his eyes. Two-Five wasn’t sure what that meant. “This better not be some kind of— geezus! Where’d you get human money?”
“He procured it from the clan, venerated human male. There is no shortage.”
“You want to give me 100 smackers for a bit o’ paste, I’m not stupid enough to say no. Have at it, with my blessing.” The human removed the cash and returned the pouch.
Two-Five dashed over to the part of the kiosk where the epsilon ruby was affixed with a kind of starchy paste. Extending a claw, he inserted the tip into the dried paste and popped the gem free. Then, when the human was inattentive, counting his money, he slipped unseen through the grate.
Once inside, he admired its transcendent beauty for a few heartbeats – not paste, no, not this! – before placing it into the pouch. His Slash First and their broodmale would be well pleased.
Two-Five wriggled through his broodmale’s tunnel. His Slash First, Four-Three of Eight-One, smaller and more compact than he, scuttled along behind him, giving an occasional playful tug on his right tail, which was swelling and throbbing from the attention. He clicked at her and wove a message of patience with his left tail. She hissed a laugh.
The tunnel seemed to come to an end. Was the broodmale unhappy with his Slash First and Slash Second? But no – he felt air moving and looked up. A new obstacle: the tunnel went straight up above him. He hissed in amusement.
“She wonders what entertains him,” Four-Three said.
“Their broodmale makes new obstacles,” he replied. “The tunnel opens upward. More stamina is needful.”
Four-Three hissed again. “It will be a large brood.”
“If they arrive in their broodmale’s chamber with ability left.”
“It has been a long run. She believes the chamber must be close.”
“He agrees.”
Two-Five spun onto his back and began the slow process of wriggling around the turn upward. When he was straight in the tunnel, he found it turned again… but he could see the broodmale’s chamber through the opening at the end of this one.
“He sees the chamber,” Two-Five announced, and began slowly squirming into this last tunnel. Behind and beneath him, Four-Three began clicking with excitement.
“A good run,” she said.
Two-Five squirmed a little further around the last corner before he answered. “A most excellent run. They have an incomparable broodmale.”
“They have a most excellent broodmale indeed.”
Once in the final tunnel, Two-Five crawled as quickly as he could through its length and into the broodmale’s chamber, Four-Three just behind. One after the other, they dropped into the chamber.
It was oblong, with a large bed of mud at one end and warm nesting sands at the other. Past offerings of beauty festooned the walls: gems and jewelry, graceful pottery, stunning paintings and sculptures, anything beautiful that the Slash First and Slash Second thought would make the broodmale happy, because happy broodmales produced more young.
He lay buried up to his nostrils in the bed of mud. Two-Three of Three was well-known for his care, and the mud was immaculate. Two-Five and Four-Three approached the bed, taking the faintly glowing epsilon ruby out of Two-Five’s pouch. Four-Three discarded the pouch and laid the ruby on the offering table beside the bed.
Two-Three’s eyes widened. He clicked. “He is very pleased with his Slash First and Slash Second.”
Two-Five and Four-Three twined their tails and stepped into the mud.