The Coordinate

Chapter 11: Pleasurable Encounter

            The skies were a gloomy scarlet. The winds were fair, with grasses dancing with it, and yet there were no birds. He had expected most birds in this planet would be extinct, but is that really it?

            Are there really no flying birds anymore?

            Just one would make him happy, perhaps even give him a little more strength and hope that this world is worth saving, just as his father had said.

            But it is how this son-of-a-b***h universe worked. It’s only natural the greediest, the most cynical, and the smartest species would be the top predators.

            He laid down a small tower ruin overlooking a relatively large field of tilled soil and working mammals. Working on them were humans donned in humble rags and large hats. A dome covered individual squares of the fields, like the Corpi concentration camps back in Novaien. Swallow suspected the white little cottons falling from the skies might be dangerous, especially with the C.I.F. exhaustions. He made contact with these already.

            The people dragging three-spiked sticks on the ground were cultivators, he assumed. There were no walls anywhere, so determining whether they were still in the city was hard to tell. Or perhaps, was it the human’s style to not build walls around their towns?.

            His pursuers must have also assumed he wouldn’t have gotten far with the severe wounds he had. Luckily, pain inhibitors and cauterizers were things in that dead guard’s uniforms, though he didn’t know how much they’d last. His first priority would be to find cell regenerators or anything that would get him moving. This world’s air, bacteria, and particles were foreign to him. The least dangerous of microorganisms could prove fatal.

            Another thing that he knew A’vins would rather avoid were those with strong, foul odor and… lack of taste, like these cultivators, or generally, anyone that was poor. The elitists bastards would have probably avoided these cultivators since they emit that very strong smell. Though he himself, as a novasapien, disliked it, he may as well have to endure.

            What else could he do but approach the cultivators? Without proper care, these wounds would become dangerous, and this world’s wild animals might be drawn to his scent, or particles might infect his wounds. There were too many factors to consider.

            Right now, the most probable way of survival in this night was to seek shelter, and one of those cultivator’s houses might do well.

            He had a disguise with the guard’s clothes, all he had to do now was to trick one of them.

            He left the tower ruins and approached the green fields. He passed through the dome smoothly, and the air became warmer. The crops had vines dangling on stick tent-like structures. Others had yellow tubes sitting atop their stalks, and the rest were small leaves deeply planted within coarse, moist soil.

            He bent down despite the pain of his leg, touching the dirt and its ground with his gloved fingers. It was full of life, and not artificial. Fertile soil created by nature and not mass produced in a laboratory, unlike in his planet… it was amazing.

            Truly, truly amazing.

            This was Terra. The planet his forebears left billions of revolutions ago, but why? Why would they abandon a planet like this? Why leave a planet so rich, lush, and more than able to easily support life, unlike in his planet.

            “Zion Guard!” a male human voice said. He looked up and saw a grey-bearded man with tattered rags with a stick and a hat, saluting. “What allowed us the honor? Are you here to inspect our produce?”

            Swallow’s brow raised. Oh?

            Swallow cleared his throat, “Are you a cultivator here?”

            “A culti-? Ah. Yes! I’m a farmer. Will you please give us three more weeks?”

            “Huh?”

            “We were told our last produce were of poor quality! We know we promised this time would be different, but please give us time. W-we don’t have anywhere else to go. So please,” he took off his hat and neared it to his chest, “give us some more time. The crops aren’t quite ready just yet.”

            Swallow stood up and stared at the man’s soul.

            His orbs were shaking and moist—too moist, as if on the verge of crying. He didn’t know the meaning human gestures, but those eyes told him all he needed to know.

            “At ease, err, farmer. I’m a guard, not a trader. I’m here to seek shelter.”

            “Oh, well then, we’d be honored to accommodate a Zion Guard! Please follow me.”

            The sun was slowly sinking into the never-moving horizon, like a ship torturously falling from orbit. The man led Swallow inside a small, run-down house. It looked like the lowest level of the s*****y chambers back in his homeplanet. Dusty wood made up the walls, floors and ceilings of the place, with only cheap wool, fibers, and artificial sediments keeping the place sturdy. There were multiple rooms. For a cheaply made house, it was surprisingly spacious.

            Inside that underground city were cutting-edge technologies used for the inhabitant’s conveniences and things that these people simply did not have. Swallow wanted to ask questions, but asking the wrong one will only bring in suspicion. He took a deep breath, steeling himself of this inconvenience. He may have to tolerate this… mess of a dwelling. The old man guided Swallow and helped him settle on the farthest room room and left the door open.

            “Forgive the place, Zion Guard. Winter just came after all. We are currently storing resources to let us get by the season despite the absurd requests.”

            Winter?

            “She came here?”

            “Who?”

            “The girl—Winter.”

            “Who’s that?” the old man’s brows raised.

            Swallow froze. His head scrambled for answers. He then sat on a tailrest.

            “N-nothing. Things just happened, and it may seem like I’m not quite ready to talk about it.”

            The man scratched his head, then his face lit up. “Ah, I see! We have also been informed that members of the old-world religion suddenly attacked somewhere in the city. In fact, we even heard an explosion. May we ask if you were a part of it?”

            “Right.” Swallow smiled and lifted a part of the uniform’s blazer, revealing his bloodied hips. The old man gasped.

            “Oh! We are terribly sorry for not noticing!” The old man walked outside and took a deep breath, “Julie, would you please come?” he called out loud.

            Swallow took a deep breath, silently praising himself for a brilliantly concocted lie.

            “We were separated during the attack. A couple of those insane mobs were heading here and my communication devices were damaged from the explosion. I had to scare them out alone.” He said, feigning pain.

            “I see. You must have no way to contact the Zionous and the rest of the guardsmen, and you have saved our farmstead too?” the old man continued.

            “Mhmm. I’ll take my leave after tomorrow. I just needed a place to rest for dusk is all.” replied Swallow, then faking a tired gasp.

            “Take all the time you need, Zion Guard! We won’t mind.”

            “I’ll be reported as missing in action, farmer. It will hurt my career.” His smile turned into a frown, “I’ll make sure to tell my superiors about you good people…”

            The old man lowered his head, “I see. Thank you.”

            Swallow hid his guilty lying lips beneath hands feigning a reaction to cheek pain. He never liked to lie to innocent, good-hearted people. They were vulnerable, and him taking advantage of such weaknesses was the opposite of what he’d feel if they were A’vin scum instead.

            A few minutes passed, and the said girl still hasn’t arrived.

            The old man opened the door, and the skies were now dark. “Julie! Come home at once!” He then turned to Swallow, “I’m sorry. My daughter is always late every night. I don’t quite know what she’s doing in the late hours.”

            A human girl with plain wools and dirt-ridden attire entered the house, a girl that seemed like was Winter’s age.

            She gasped and flinched upon seeing him. Swallow waved with at her, and she waved back awkwardly before bowing to him. She then turned to the old man.

            Luckily, waving is the universal greeting.

            “What is it?” she asked the bearded man.

            “Would you please patch this man up?”

            The girl nodded and went to another room.

            She returned wearing different, cleaner clothes. She held a bottle in one hand, and a white wrapper on the other.

            “Would you take off your uniform, please?”

            Swallow nodded and unbuttoned the clothing, revealing a pinkishly pale, toned body filled with scars and open wounds.

            “What’s that you’re holding?” he asked her.

            “Antiseptic and cotton,” she said, then kneeling on the floor before him.

            That foul smell on her was gone suddenly, instead now it was pleasant. She smelled like life. It was stimulating, enticing, and…. arousing.

            She poured little of the antiseptic into little cottons, but Swallow shrunk back when she tried to put it on his hips.

            “What’s wrong?” she asked.

            “That’s not dangerous for our species, is it?”

            “It’s okay. I’m quite familiar with what to do and what not to do with novasapiens. I also know what could harm them and what won’t.”

            Swallow’s eyes narrowed.

            “W-wait, that’s not a threat, or anything. I’m just saying I know how to take care of one. You want to be taken care of, right? Then just let me do my-“

            “Julie!” the old man snapped. The girl froze, closed her eyes and shut her lips tight. “You must treat the Zion Guard with respect!”

            “I’m sorry, pa…”

            Swallow froze again, recognizing the girl’s expressions, and realizing that ever familiar way of raising one’s voice. He knew it as soon as he heard it, and he knew it well.

“It’s quite alright, old man.” Swallow said. “It’s never a good idea to speak to your child that way.”

            The old man’s eyes widened as he looked at him, as if looking at a newfound kindness that he has never seen before. That look alone told him how the A’vins must have treated them. In those eyes, were fear too. Swallow supposed he was just afraid. Do A’vins really treat the lower class like this?

            “Please, excuse me then. I’ll make dinner for the three of us.” The old man said as he walked to another room, leaving the girl and Swallow alone.

            “Thank you.” The girl said, patting gently on Swallow’s hips, and then on other wounds. It stung, but the pain inhibitors made it bearable.

            “You got stabbed?” the girl commented, stopping before putting the cotton on the wettest, most open wound that he had, “How are you still alive?”

            “It’s a non-vital part. Fanatics don’t know how to kill someone properly.” He replied.

            “Fanatics, huh…” she said.

            “Ende’ryan, you smell… good.” He suddenly muttered. He caught himself saying it immediately and covered his mouth. The girl stiffened at first, but then her gaze changed. A mischievous smile formed on the girl’s face. She gently pushed him to the bed, and said, “You need to lie down. You’re injured, after all.”

            Swallow followed. He was in no position not to do so after all, but more importantly, he was… aroused.

            The girl continued to dab and tap on his wounds, but this time with a different solution, but the way she touched him changed. It was sensual. Every flick of her wrist and twist of her fingers were as if expertly done to stimulate his hormones.

            She suddenly came up near his head and gently caressed his horns.

            “What are you-“

            “Shh.”

            Swallow froze.

            “It’s hard, tense… and uncared for. You must be having a rough time, Mr. Zion Guard.” She whispered to his ear.

            Swallow’s mind screamed danger, but his body wanted to feel more.

            “You need to relieve some tension, Mr.” she said whispered again, “Would you like to do that now?”

            Her fingers crawled to his thighs, slowly making its way to his crotch.

            “W-what are you doing? Your father’s going to-“

            “Hey, it’s okay. He’s not going to be done in ten minutes or so…”

            “Julie, right? You’re not supposed to do this. Y-you’re-“

She licked his horns rubbing his crotch, and a wave of ecstasy pulsed through Swallow’s body.

It feels so good…

He could only wonder where she learned to perfectly stimulate a novasapien so well.

            She then suddenly stopped. It left Swallow wanting. He gasped for air, not realizing he held his breath the entire time.

            “W-why did you stop?”

            “First, I’ll need you to promise me something.” She said, sitting on top of him but not touching his belly and wounds. He hadn’t even realized she had started to undress. His eyes were glued for a moment by a bruise near her breast and some scars just below her belly button.

            “What is it?” he asked.

            “You’re a Zion Guard, right? I’d very much appreciate it if you could… let our family into the city. You have authority even over the . Easy enough promise, isn’t it?”

            “What will you do once you and your father is in the city?” he asked.

            “He’ll sell his dome farm, and start a business probably, as for me… well, it’s personal.”

            For a split second, Swallow saw a sad smile escape her face. Her intent was mostly blue, laced with hot red, and anguished purple. The puzzles pieced themselves together, and formed a sad, desperate picture. One that she wouldn’t be happy with, but could only do…

He smiled softly at her, and she seemed put off and surprised by the reaction.

            “First time you’ve seen a genuine smile from a novasapien?” he said, sitting up awkwardly and moving her off his lap.

            “W-wait, what’s wrong? Did I do something to-“

            “Shh,” he said, putting his finger on her lips. “I can tell the other novasapiens haven’t been so gentle on you.”

            “Wait, wait. I can still make you feel good. Just stay down, I’ll do everything myself, okay?!” Her seductive voice turned desperate.

            “Your father will hear. Keep it down.” he said.

            She froze, not knowing how to react.

            Swallow sat with her on the bed, taking in the brief silence between them.

            “You sound like you disregard superiors and honorifics.” He said.

            “I-it’s not like that! It’s just that I’m used to being told to…”

            “Told to…?”

            She paused, then turned away. “Why should I tell you? Are you going to get us evicted from this place when I don’t answer because you’re a Zion Guard? Are you going to force us away from our home and sentence us to the dregs!?” she shouted in a whisper.

            “Look at me try to see if I’m that kind of person.” He replied.

            She did so, and was left oddly speechless. She didn’t know what to say or what to feel. How would she? How could she?

            “Are you… really a novasapien?” the girl said.

            “You just licked my horns. ‘Course I am. We’re not all scumbags, you know…” a sad smile formed on his face, “At least, the ones that still remember aren’t.”

            Silence.

            The girl buttoned her shirt again and started dressing Swallow’s wounds, all the while having her face being red. Swallow knew that expression. Embarrassment. Still, he would have also liked getting ‘relieved’ too. After all, things had been rough these past few years. Respite from this hell of a life, even the shortest ones, would have been greatly appreciated.

            He wanted to ask her where and how she got novasapien pheromones. Learning what physically pleases novasapiens, what excites them, and how to stimulate them was a feat he could only imagine wasn’t pleasant… but getting pheromones to essentially make herself irresistible to them? That was something else. Thankfully, ten revolutions of constant danger and training strengthened his resolve.

            Humans may be much more resourceful and sharp-witted than he might think.

            “Hey,” he started. “I have a tip for you.”

            “What is it?” she asked.

            “You want to take advantage of novasapien’s greed and l**t using those pheromones, right?”

            Her face turned even more red. She looked away, as if guilty.

            “Get inside the city often and find a novasapien noble, or someone with power like a politician. Natural pheromones from female novasapiens only emit twice a month, I don’t know how you’re able to make the smell, but you’re able to put it on anytime you want, right?”

            “R…right.”

            “What you should do around your target is get him to notice your scent and expose your forehead a little to get his attention. Do it every day, until eventually, he’ll recognize you. Do what you just did to me now when he does, but this time, use your nails to softly graze the spot beneath our genitals and tail. It makes us go crazy. Make him addicted to you, and then you can get him to do what you want. He might even marry you, and your family would be able to leave this place. Got it?”

            The girl fell silent. She looked at him blankly. She put his fingers on her chin and wore a very large smile, as if discovering something revolutionary.

            “That sounds so obvious, like what a double agent would do in those books! How come I’ve never thought about it!”

            Swallow smiled at her, “Imagination is a powerful weapon. Master it, and you can do anything.”

            “Mr. Zion Guard,” she said as tears started welling in her eyes, “Really, thank you… You’ve shown me more kindness than anyone ever did in years… T-there has to be some way I can repay you, right?”

            “Well, I’d like to get ‘relieved’, if that’s fine. Like you said, it has been a rough few years…”.

            That mischievous, seductive smile formed again, “Okay then. I’ll sneak in later tonight. Maybe even test that new thing you told me.” She said, tickling his horns.

            “I’d very much like that.”