Quest

Trouble

...

The night of their fifth day, Luke was having dinner alone. Xolorrr didn't feel well and went to sleep early. This allowed Luke to have a reasonably good bottle of wine, which Xolorrr didn't approve of, and a steak with anchovy butter, which Xolorrrr didn't like the smell of. In addition, Xolorrr couldn't understand why people continued to express their carnivorous roots by making synthetic dead animals, as he put it.

"Where's your friend?"

She was quite a beauty. He'd seen her here once before, but he hadn't given her any attention. Well. Not much.

"Oh, he didn't feel too good. He's in the hotel."

She pulled up a chair and sat. "Where you from?"

"Bethnell."

"Oh, that's interesting. Not that I know it, but I imagine you must find it interesting. So. You here for work, or what? I mean, you act like tourists, but you ain't got the gear, so to speak. And besides, I can't imagine your friend coming here willingly. He's Urrr, right? There's nothing here for him. If it is a him. Do they have lady Urrrs? Man, he'd be wanting, after a while. You two are not an item, right? I mean. Well. I mean. Man." Here she'd crossed her arms in front of her tummy and was doubling up with laughter. The picture of him and Xolorrr as an 'item' was apparently too much for her.

"I believe their women are sub-sentient. They just produce spores. The men, if you call them men, band together to look after the young. The young men, that is. The young 'women' go off and do their thing, so to speak. Calling them men and women is by convention, but it's really meaningless.

"Apparently, it is a matter of charisma whose offspring gets to survive. You can't do it alone, so you need others to help you, and you can't force others, of course. Eventually, it became a religious aspect, which it still is, apparently. The women play no role in their social or religious life whatsoever. They're just there. Well, not here, probably, but around."

"Man, you sure know how to chat up a girl, .... Yeah, yeah. I did ask. Can I take a glass of wine," she asked, having filled her glass to the brim. "Have you been to see the Rotund? It's just around the corner here. You should. They do these lectures on earth art, but it ..., really ..., touches you. Well, me, at least. Are you going to finish that bread? I forgot to eat, and I might as well. It's a waste an'all that. Oh. And I know this place up Freemore. It's a Xeno place, so your friend will like it. Haven't seen any Urrr there, though, or any other aliens for that matter. Not many aliens around."

The conversation was entirely out of Lucas' control, but it was ok. He had been talking with Xolorrr only, essentially, for a week now, so he needed this. And she was great to look at.

As she wound down a bit, she became less nervous and more coherent. After a while, the conversation became bearable and exciting. She was an art student of sorts for seven years already, and she had two jobs: serving in a bar and cleaning outdoor art. Apparently, they used art students rather than robots.

Luke had ordered a second bottle of wine and was just about to tell about his quest when his 'partout interrupted. It was Xolorrr, and something was wrong. He said goodbye to her hastily, took his jacket, and trotted to the hotel. It wasn't until the next day that he would remember that he hadn't even asked her name.

...

Xolorrr lay in his bed -- they didn't have Urrr beds or anything here, so they had made do with towels and pillows -- and looked like shit, as far as Luke could tell.

"Was it something you ate? Can't be a virus. I mean, there are no Urrr here."

"No. It's not that. It's the prelation. It is supposed to happen, but not yet. In twenty years or so. My body changes. A bit like your larvae turning into insects, but not so drastic, of course. My reproductive organs wither, and I grow what you might call a womb. No. A pouch. And I become a senior in my clan. But it's not supposed to happen yet. So something is wrong. And I need a bath. I need medicines. I mean, I need to soak in organic slime. I've tried to call a doctor, but I can't seem to get through. Maybe you could bring me to a hospital."