“They taught us how to make it,” an oddly musical voice said. Roman turned to see the alien bartender looming over him. Up close, she smelled of sweet flowers and something he couldn’t identify, almost like human perfume. “We grow the plants for them in a poor field and then turn it into drink for them. They cannot get enough of it.”
“Well, neither can we,” Raistlin said quickly. “Another round of drinks, and don’t spare the alcohol. We have a genuine set of war heroes at the table.”
If the bartender was impressed, she didn’t show it. Instead, she collected the empty glasses and headed back toward the bar. The twitch in her rear had to be an affectation she’d picked up from the settlers, Roman told himself. She couldn’t be trying to tempt them with the possibility of alien sex, could she? Or perhaps she was—there were plenty of stories about human-alien sexual relationships, even though they were the last, great taboo. A poor settler, unable to afford a wife, might just be tempted by an alien…
He pushed the thought aside before it made him throw up. It was far more likely that some of the other rumors about settlers—and RockRats—were true. Back at the Academy, he’d discovered that some of Earth’s citizens still believed that RockRats were all homosexuals, a stereotype that hadn’t been true for almost two thousand years. If ever.
“You saved an entire ship,” Raistlin said cheerfully. He made a show of lifting his glass. “Cheers, gentlemen; he served on Enterprise.”
Roman flushed. “I need some air,” he said, pulling himself to his feet. Why did his legs feel unsteady? “I’ll see you back at the lodge.”
“Unless you find someone and go home with her,” Raistlin called. “Enjoy yourself!”
The Purple town was a strange mixture of human and alien styles. Roman took a deep breath as he stepped outside, enjoying the clear air. He couldn’t help but realize that the human habitations were all prefabricated colony-style buildings, while the alien buildings were far more elegant. The ugly human buildings had been designed that way to encourage colonists to develop their building skills and eventually move out of the prefabricated buildings and into proper homes. But the settlers had never bothered to move any further, even in Maskirovka City. With an industrial node floating in orbit producing all the prefabricated buildings they could desire, they had no incentive to change.
The alien buildings bore no resemblance to human styles of architecture and design, at least at first glance. They looked to be constructed from a mixture of wood and stone, with earth pressed into the roofs and used to grow a grass-analogue. Roman recalled some of the genetically-engineered plants the RockRats had taken with them as they spread out among the stars and wondered, absently, if the Purples used something similar to help hold their buildings together.
He looked up at the gas giant hanging in the sky, and shivered. You are mortal, the gas giant seemed to say. I am eternal. You puny mites and your tiny starships are nothing to me.
A line of alien males ran past, squawking as they sighted a female target. Roman watched as the female dropped the bag she was carrying and knelt in front of the males, pressing her face into the dirt. The males surrounded her and began to fight savagely among themselves for the right to mate with the female. Roman wanted to look away, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the scene. He guessed that the kneeling female had just entered mating season—her scent calling the males to her—and that none of the other females was ready to mate.
Once the victor in the fight had knocked the others down or out, he howled in triumph and then swept down on the female, lifting her ragged dress before entering her from behind. After a brief moment, the male pulled out, chattering happily. The female pulled herself to her feet, her expression unreadable, and gathered her possessions. No one stepped forward to help her—and none of the other males showed any sign of interest.
“They’re not like us,” a voice said from behind him.
He turned to see Elf.
“To us, that’s a disturbing sight—a rape, perhaps even a gang rape. To them, that’s normal. No one will think any less of her, while the males are doing what comes naturally to them. On the other hand, they may mock her for not being careful when she was on the verge of entering mating season. She should have been inside so she mated with the male she chose—if she chose any male.”
Roman blinked. “Have you been here before?”
“I read the file as soon as we arrived in this system,” Elf said with a wink. “Old Marine saying—learn everything you can, because you never know what might come in handy and you’ll feel a damn fool if you don’t know it when you need it.”
Roman nodded sourly. But they had to ponder what they read to make any use of it.
He looked back at the alien female and saw her walking away, almost waddling. The other aliens seemed utterly unconcerned, although he saw a few casting their lidless eyes in the direction of the two humans. A handful of other humans—all teenage boys—had chortled to themselves at the show before heading back to one of the human buildings. They’d thought it was hilarious.
“What are we doing here, anyway?” Roman asked after a long pause.
“Shore leave,” she said dryly. “I must say you’ve been a terrible disappointment to me as your escort. All you’ve done is drink, and you’ve visited an alien city. You should be being fleeced by a fast-talking dealer, or spending your credits in a brothel…I remember a young ensign who was reported missing during shore leave and we had to go track him down. It turned out that he’d been lured into a drug den, and honestly thought that it hadn’t been more than a day.”
Roman snorted. “And how long was it?”
“A month,” Elf said. “The poor bastard was completely out of it, utterly zonked. At least they’d fed and watered him, or he would have died before we pulled him out.”
“That wasn’t what I meant,” Roman said. He tried again, hoping she’d understand this time. “What is the Federation doing on Maskirovka?”
“We’re here because we have no other choice,” Elf said. “What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know,” Roman admitted. He still had three days before he was supposed to report onboard the Donna Noble, leaving him at loose ends. He couldn’t return to Enterprise, not now. “I just don’t know.”
“Come with me,” Elf said, reaching over and taking his hand. “There’s a place where we can dance—I love dancing—and then get some dinner, and more dancing…and who knows where it might lead?”
Roman looked up in surprise. He’d thought that she’d lost interest in him, if she’d ever had it.
“You’re the hero of the hour,” she said with a wink. “Relax and enjoy it—and all the free drinks you’ll get when you tell your story. Tomorrow is another day of woe and misery, in a universe of woe and misery, where death and destruction stalk us like…two giant stalking things.”
“Oh, shut up.” Roman laughed. “Lead on, fair lady.”
Chapter Twenty
In public, all members of the Senate regard their fellow Senators as rivals. In private, they are often far more friendly—after all, they have friends and family in common. The world of the Federation Senate is a largely closed one and few people are permitted to enter it, at least without pledging their loyalty. The few Senators who are not part of the Factions are rarely able to accomplish anything.