Lunar Love

A bug. She was a literal bug. Hunter knew that it was a bigoted term for them but in fairness they were scientifically classified as insectoids. What was he thinking using that goddamn app! No pictures, no names just one thing to determine whether you were up for meeting: a poem. Imagining the hulking mass of exoskeleton approaching his table writing such beautiful prose was baffling. The waiter, a hovering automaton, said it would return for their drinks order promptly and left Hunter with his date.

A squishy. He was a damn squishy. They-Who-Bask-In-Moonlight knew that it was a bigoted term for them but in fairness they were scientifically very squishy. What was she thinking using that Moondamn app! No pictures, no names just one thing to determine whether you were up for meeting: a poem. Imagining the warmongering soft-tissued being sat at the table writing such beautiful prose was baffling.

Hunter knew some Ingin culture from various holovids so stood and clicked his heels together. They-Who-Bask-In-Moonlight knew some Human culture from various holovids so offered the squishy her hand. ‘That was kind of cute’ he thought. ‘That was kind of cute’ she thought.

They ordered a drink that both their digestions could manage to share. It was only after they had started talking that she noticed he didn’t seem to have a universal translator on.

‘I studied the language during my training.’ He also couldn’t afford a universal translator.

‘I know limited Human. I find it difficult to learn a language that my mouth cannot speak.’

After they had placed their food orders Hunter started to feel uncomfortable, not because of her appearance but because of who he was. Her large eyes focused on him.

‘Are you healthy? You are perspiring intensely.’

‘I was a solider.’

That was all that needed to be said. There was no point going through the entire dinner without admitting it. He anticipated an avalanche of abuse or for her to simply walk away.

‘I was a slave.’

He looked up and knew her as the author that had made him weep. She looked down at him and knew him as he author that had made her empathize with a killer.

‘You do not share the responsibilities of your entire species.’ She said. ‘Your poem has told me of your regret.’

‘I feel responsible. I played my part in your personal suffering.’

‘Your presence here and your written words inform me that you have changed. It is now in the past and we are sharing liquid.’

They-Who-Bask-In-Moonlight slurped down some translucent noodles and was grateful for the company of the Human. It had been so long that she had always dined alone. The act was sacred, but she knew to the Human it was just a necessary act to survive. She felt great pleasure in the act of consumption, her brain rewarded her for the activity.

‘Ingin reproduction occurs via consumption, right?’ Hunter said in between bites of his spaghetti.

‘Females ingest the reproductive organs of the males which instigates gestation and metamorphosis of the female into a Nest-Mother.’ Upon hearing her answer the Human’s face turned red.

‘I apologise if that was a rude question.’

‘It was not a rude question. Humans reproduce via the insertion of the male reproductive organs into the female reproductive organs. There are countless holovids depicting such acts of all species. They are easily accessible and very interesting.’

Hunter couldn’t believe how nonchalant she was being. It was strangely refreshing. Another bottle of their drink arrived at the table and the waiter indicated another table had paid for it. A human and a quad-armed reptilian waved at them.

‘What are you looking for in a relationship?’ She said.

‘I don’t know.’

‘That is unhelpful.’

‘I like your patterns.’ Hunter said as they tucked into dessert. They-Who-Bask-In-Moonlight’s dark green shell was covered in bright painted swirls.

‘Thank you. I picked ones I thought my date would find attractive. I like your garments.’

‘Thanks. I picked them for the same reason I suppose.’

‘Have you ever had a relationship out with your own species?’

‘Only acquaintances really. I grew up on a Human colony …’

‘Which one?’

‘New India.’

‘Oh …’

They-Who-Bask-In-Moonlight emerged from her Nest-Mother and entered a world of hardship and servitude. New India had been terraformed to suit Humans and she could still feel the heat drying out her eyes. The insurgents had promised liberation, but they brought only death. They-Who-Bask-In-Moonlight earned her freedom slowly and painfully.

Hunter was born into a world of blood. His first kill that been his own mother, achieved the moment of birth, and his second had been at the age of ten at boot camp. Non-humans were soulless animals that deserved no quarter. It was an Ingin strapped to a pole, covered in mud and Hunter had blasted it away with a plasma rifle.

‘I am sorry.’ Hunter said. ‘For what my people have done to yours.’

‘We are far from your Empire now. This is good space, free space.’ She reached across the table and took his hand in her claw. His hand was soft and easily squishable while her claw was coarse and strong. They-Who-Bask-In-Moonlight had abandoned her hate many moons ago. This Human was not her enemy, he was nice. He was lonely just like she was in this mad, loud galaxy. ‘Would you like to go and drink at a different establishment?’

They talked and drank for hours in the neon-soaked bar. In the dim light her paint glowed.

‘You look like the moon.’ Hunter was far into his umpteenth bottle.

‘That is blasphemous.’ They-Who-Bask-In-Moonlight said. ‘But I also happily accept your comparison.’

‘Have you ever kissed a human?’

‘My people do not participate in such an activity. We may share an embrace if you wish.’ They did and it was nice. ‘You can instruct me on how to participate in the kissing at a later date.’

‘What happens next?’ Hunter said.

‘I do not mind as long as we do it together.’