Rykhan (Book 1 of Mate Search Series) (6 page)

He took a deep breath while glancing at Tyshar.
“What he was inferring was that you were not dressed appropriately
as one of the citizens of Phoenix, as indicated by the words,
‘get-up’ to represent your attire. Although he does offer you a
compliment in saying it was ‘fucking awesome’.”

“Where were you when this happened?” Gyard’s
eyes remaining on the frozen image of the teen still on the
screen.

“Approximately eight miles west of the agreed
landing point in MacDowell Mountain Ranch. A digital timepiece on
the outside of a building said it was 8.04. From their sun’s
direction, I believe it was morning.” Tyshar’s gaze flipped between
the vid and the other warriors. “Acting on his tone since I didn’t
understand what he meant, I simply nodded and kept moving west in
order to make my way to make the appointment with the gold
merchants.”

It had been Arbrynt who had discovered humans
traded gold-supported ‘money’ as the unit of currency. That metal
adorned their dress uniforms to denote rank and the various
campaigns in which they had participated. Bronsyn quickly
determined an exchange of the Picari gold for green paper
rectangles solved their money issues.

“Shall we skip to your meeting with the
merchants or do you need clarification on other points that
happened before your appointment?” Bronsyn’s finger hovered over
the symbol to move the vid to a different position.

“I want Tyshar’s impression of human males,
such as how they behaved when in the company of females.” Wyst’s
voice held a note of confusion as he eyed Tyshar over his shoulder.
“In some instances I noted they give deference by opening doors or
stepping aside so the female could pass first, but not
always.”

“Yes, I noticed that as well,” Tyshar answered
on a sigh. “But I could find no rhyme or reason for it. Not all the
human males seemed to honor females, even those who appear to be
under their protection. And even some of the unattached males
occasionally deferred to human females.”

“Interesting,” Rykhan breathed. “So would you
call it ‘selective protection’?”

Tyshar shrugged. “I’m afraid I don’t have
enough information to qualify it yet.”

Bronsyn advanced the recording until the view
screen showed Tyshar in a building surrounded by stunning displays
of the different shiny adornments humans chose to wear. After
handing the handful of gold pieces to an officious older man, who
placed the bits of gold on a antiquated scale.

‘I’ve never seen this design before, Mr. Rell,’
the man intoned before picking up one of the fancier campaign pins.
‘Do you know its origin?’

‘I believe it’s from a foreign war,’ Tyshar
replied. ‘I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it.’

The man placed a single ocular-piece up to his
eye for a more careful study. ‘Stunning although I’m not familiar
with the design, the gold appears to be only marginally mixed. What
do you think, twenty-two karat?’

‘Yes, probably,’ Tyshar had answered and at
that moment in the playback, he signaled for Bronsyn to pause the
vid. “I had no idea what he meant.”

“On Earth, their metals are rendered to their
purest state and then melded with others. Gold especially is too
soft to use without having additional metals added to it.”
Arbrynt’s voice was firm but held a note of disbelief at the
old-fashioned methods used. “Even so, the addition of the other
metals does not seem to reduce the value of gold unless it goes
below eighteen karats which is the English term for its purity.
Without the alloys, pure gold is twenty-four karats. Our insignias
at twenty-two karats mean there is less than 9% alloy in them.” The
other man turned to look back at the screen. “In other words,
Picari gold is very valuable.”

“But he only gave me $2,300 for it,” Tyshar
exclaimed. “Should I have negotiated for more?”

Arbrynt pulled out his own
tresl
and pushed some
buttons. “You only took 150 grams down to the surface, correct? So,
while the exchange was on the low side, you were not
cheated.”

Tyshar let out his breath in relief. Bronsyn
gave his full attention to the warrior who had braved the first
encounter and assured Tyshar he had been successful in his first
sojourn. “Well done, Protector Rell.”

Thumping a fisted hand over his first heart,
Tyshar gave a deep nod at Bronsyn’s words.

The next few frames on the stream captured the
various signs that lined the streets, which had Gyard leaning
forward, studying intently. “There! That one! That is to show the
limit of the speed their transports are to maintain while they
travel. Also that one on the right? That is to show where they are
allowed to park.”

“Tsiran
!
How will we ever be able to travel unless we learn all of their
rules?” Laxon was not the only one intimidated by the sheer chaos
of the moving vehicles on the recording.

Arbrynt rapped his knuckles on the table and
Bronsyn again stopped the playback. “I’m already working on a
solution, brothers. No worries. Just trust that I can work out a
program and traveling by vehicle will not be a problem when I’m
done.”

Rykhan gestured to the bags bunched in the
middle of the table. “What’s all this?”

Tyshar reached for the first plastic satchel.
“This, my fine warrior brothers, is what we will wear when we reach
the surface.” Every eye in the room was on him as he began to drag
out piece after piece of cloth. It was only then that Bronsyn
noticed how his warrior was dressed.

When Tyshar left, he had been wearing the
standard Galaxi uniform of black leather trousers and sleeveless
vest with boots. At some point though, he had altered his attire.
“As far as I could tell, most human males dress simply unless they
carry a small suitcase unit. The standard clothing for males is a
simple shirt, these blue cotton pants, and shoes with thick
soles.”

“A t-shirt or a button-down also known as an
‘oxford’, jeans and sport shoes—which go by many names,” Rykhan
corrected. “Did you get anything for us to go out in, something
more in keeping with an upscale venue?”

Tyshar nodded and reached for another bag.
“Yes. For you and Wyst I picked out trousers made of a more formal
fabric and design along with a dress jacket, a belt, and leather
shoes.” He raised his gaze and grinned at Rykhan. “The sales clerk
said it was perfect for ‘hooking up with the ladies’.”

Wyst rolled his eyes but grinned when Rykhan
shoved the new clothes into his hands.

Bronsyn cleared his throat to regain the
attention of the group. “Tyshar has set our TIPS in place and I
have a lead on a rental domicile complete with furniture. While
Rykhan and Wyst attend tomorrow night’s event, the rest of us will
follow them to the surface and set up our residence.”

“The search for our mates will begin,” Gyard
clarified on a low growl.

“Yes,” Bronsyn agreed and felt his stomach
tighten.

“It’s about
fracking
time,” Wyst added, shoving
his new clothes back into one of the plastic bags.

Chapter Five

Rykhan Nillr pressed his palm to the panel next
to his assigned room. As the door slid open, he twisted himself to
fit through the narrow opening, the plastic carryall in his hands
crinkling as he pulled it through. Everything onboard the Crusader
was too small for his taste, not for men the size of the
Protectorates. He could not imagine how Gyard or even Bron handled
living in such small confines being the largest two of their group
of seven. Though Rykhan was just as tall, he was not as broad and
wondered how the other warriors coped with sleeping in a space
small enough to allow him to stretch and touch the opposing walls
easily.

As the door swooshed shut, he tossed the bag to
the metal floor before grabbing the tail of the belt that held his
wrapped shirt closed. Even though the clothes they had been given
were lightweight and finely made, he preferred to be nude within
the confines of his cabin. The truth of the matter was that his
sleep space was so small all it took to warm the space was the heat
emanating from his body, frequently warming it to a level that was
uncomfortable.

Tossing the sleeveless shirt onto the narrow
bunk built into the bulkhead, he reached for the drawstring of his
pants while letting his mind roam over that day’s
meeting.

They had accomplished much in a short amount of
time, such as, choosing the landing site, studying, and planning
how to blend in as humans. Nevertheless, it had been Tyshar’s
initial exploratory venture, initiated and strategically thought
out by the warriors on quest instead of those who chosen to lead
from afar. As ever, success had only come because the warriors had
mounted the charge instead of debating the issue to death. No
longer happy to wait for decisions to come down, the Protectorate
warriors had stepped up and simply but succinctly stated their
decisions.

All done without any prior
agreement.

Although they had talked, complained together
about how slowly the Committee was in moving, of how long it took
to get them to make a decision in any area. To Rykhan’s way of
thinking, the Quest Committee had too many politicians and not
enough leaders within their ranks, each trying to secure their own
place of power within the Gal-Trol Committee.

Power struggles, Rykhan thought bitterly as he
disentangled his feet from his pants before throwing them
carelessly to join the shirt on the bed. Yes, there had even been
power struggles in his branch of the Picari Protectorates. Not so
much in the lower levels, but as he had discovered as he had been
repeatedly promoted, the battle for position was a constant within
the upper echelons.

Rykhan counted himself lucky that part of his
career was over.

Grabbing his
tresl
, he dropped to the edge of the
bed. Sliding his finger over the screen to access Earth’s internet,
he wondered why the group he currently found himself in did not
experience the same jockeying for position as it had in the corps.
Perhaps it was because theirs was not a win-lose type of mission.
In that respect, they would all win when they secured their mates,
joined with them and returned with younglings.

Rykhan’s finger stilled, hovering over the
touch-screen.

What would that feel like? To have a female, to
build a home with her, make a family and then rear their younglings
together?

He had been almost four
yons
-old when both his
mother and two older sisters had succumbed to the Xion gas but his
recollections of the time before their deaths were hazy. He had a
vague memory of watching his father and mother embrace but that was
the only one he could call to mind as an example of them as a
couple. Although he did remember, his parents had shared a bed.
Would his mate allow him to sleep with her as well? It seemed like
such a small thing but the thought of being so close and trusting
someone, especially an alien stranger of the opposite gender, while
he slept was unnerving!

But what about the other things you
could do with her in a bed, even one too small for even his body?
The thought crept in again and brought the same reaction he always
had as he thought of joining with his human bride. As his
tailpor
thickened and
lengthened, he felt his hearts take on a heavier, alternating beat.
Just the idea of skin-on-skin contact with a female, feeling her
warm, soft body pressed against him was enough to generate a deep
craving. A desire so strong that Rykhan knew he would find his
release within just a few strokes.

All over nothing more than envisioning cupping
her breasts in his palms.

His hand idly moved to his hard length but his
mind brimmed with the different pictures of a human female’s bared
chest, of the creamy mounds tipped with nipples that were so
similar yet so much different from his own. Earth’s internet had
many, many websites dedicated to glory of the feminine chest and
Rykhan found himself returning to more than a few of them eagerly
and regularly. Perhaps if the electronic system within the Picari
system had something similar, he would not have remained so
confused about his sexual orientation for so many years.

Male pairings had become the
societal norm after the loss of their females and had gone from an
accepted practice to something expected. Even his older brother,
Tryk, had joined with Dafyd after they had lived together for
five
yons
.
However, a joining with another man did not hold any sexual
interest for Rykhan outside of a singular youthful experimentation.
That one session had clearly shown he was not even remotely
attracted to other males.

Ah, but with a female? He felt
his
tai
pull up
close to his body as he stroked himself using only his mental
pictures, his imagination to fuel his fantasies. The vids he had
watched, devoured if he was being truthful, had only become more
exciting when he realized that the females actually enjoyed having
their beautiful chests caressed and fondled as well!

Using one hand to hold his
tailpor
in place, Rykhan
fingered the hard but extra sensitive ridges tucked just underneath
the mushroom shaped tip. That movement combined with the memory of
the most exciting vid he’d ever watched−of a male actually using
his mouth to pleasure the tips of a well-endowed female−was enough
to send Rykhan over the edge.