Switched: Brides of the Kindred 17 (3 page)

“
The Brigadier doesn’t care about things like ancestry and
pedigree,” Jorn said, waving off his objections. “He only cares
about results—and you’ve been delivering them steadily since you
rose to the rank of Battalion Commander. You’ll be commanding a
whole Brigade soon. And then a Regiment and before you know it,
you’ll be the first Kindred bred General the Ministry of War has
ever seen.”

“
You have high hopes for me, I see,” Kerov said dryly. “And
what about yourself?”

“
Oh, I’ll come along with you—I’ll be your Chief of Staff.”
Jorn grinned. “I’m going to be at the banquet tomorrow night too,
you know. And rumor has it that there are
two
openings in the Brigade Commanders’ ranks. Next week
you and I will be eating together in the Officer’s Mess
hall.”

“
From your lips to the Goddess’s ears,” Kerov said, smiling at
his friend’s enthusiasm.

“
The Kindred Goddess, you mean?” Jorn frowned. “Look, I know
you’re just kidding but, uh, don’t let the Brigadier or the General
hear you talking like that at the banquet. You know, the Kindred
religion isn’t actually
forbidden…”

“
But it is
frowned
on.
Don’t worry.” Kerov clapped him on the back. “I’m not a true
believer or anything—it’s just a saying of my sire’s.”

“
Well, just don’t say it at the banquet,” Jorn cautioned. “No
one there is going to care if you’re Kindred as long as you don’t
rub it in their face. And you know those that hold religious
views—especially that old Kindred religion—aren’t considered too
bright.”

“
My sire is bright enough,” Kerov said a bit stiffly. “He just
holds with the old ways—the Kindred ways.” Which was why he had
gone against his mandatory mating assignment and married a female
he loved instead of the one assigned to him. Such a thing would
never be permitted now—a fact which didn’t really bother Kerov much
since he was much more interested in promotion at his career than
finding “true love”—that elusive emotion those with Kindred DNA
seemed to think so essential.

“
Of course your sire was bright—he had you, didn’t he?” Jorn
grinned. “Kindred DNA be damned, you were the top of all our
classes. I never would have gotten through quantum astronavigation
without you.”

Kerov grinned. “Only
because I drilled the formulae for each test into your thick skull
over and over.”

“
I
thought I’d never get through that class—but look at us now—barely
twenty-nine cycles old and about to rise to the exalted rank of
Brigaid Commander.”

“
Thirty-one,” Kerov corrected him but his friend waved his
words away.

“
Who’s counting? We’ll still be some of the youngest to ever
achieve such a rank! Come on—I’m taking you to the
y’xx
hall to buy you a drink.”

Regretfully, Kerov
shook his head. “I wish I could but I have my mandatory sexual
encounter tonight.”

“
Even better—you lucky bastard!” Jorn pounded him on the chest
with a closed fist. “To get news of a promotion and have your
weekly fuck-session all in one day—I must admit, I’m
envious.”

“
Don’t be,” Kerov said dryly. “I’m not exactly looking forward
to it.”

“
What? Not looking forward to sheathing your saber? Why in the
Seven Hells not?” his friend demanded amiably.

Kerov shifted
uncomfortably, feeling he had said too much already. Still, Jorn
was looking at him for an explanation and he didn’t like to brush
his friend off with a curt reply.

“
The relations between myself and my state-mandated partner
are not always…amicable,” he said at last.

In fact, that was a
gross understatement. He found Xirnah, the female he had been
matched with, to be cold and off-putting and she, in her turn, had
made it abundantly clear that she resented being assigned to a male
who had Kindred DNA. If she conceived a child by him, it would
almost certainly have physical characteristics that were noticeably
Kindred—a fate which would shame her—at least in her view.

Kerov knew she
detested his broad shoulders and heavy, well developed muscles, so
different from the slender build of a pure bred Tarsian but he
couldn’t help being who he was. And to tell the truth, he didn’t
find Xirnah especially attractive either.

It wasn’t that she
was ugly—she was tall with a perfect, angular figure and a mass of
straight, white-blonde hair which was always perfectly coifed. Her
wide, blackish-purple eyes were fringed with white-blonde lashes
and her breasts were high and shapely. Her hips were almost as
narrow as her waist and her petite bottom was nearly
nonexistent—another Tarsian trait that was considered especially
beautiful.

But there was nothing to hold
on
to while they had sex—she was all angles and straight lines.
Kerov couldn’t think of it as making love because it certainly
wasn’t. State-mandated sexual relations with Xirnah was a
mechanical affair, devoid of any warmth or affection.

When she came to his
quarters for their weekly sessions, their routine was always the
same. They would sit across from each other on his sensu-chairs
making polite but stilted conversation as the chairs stimulated the
correct parts of their anatomy.

Then, once he was
appropriately tumescent and Xirnah was sufficiently lubricated,
they would retire to his sleeping chamber where she would open her
sex garment and bend over his sleeping platform to reveal her
narrow, boney behind. Kerov would part her thin thighs to locate
her tight, almost colorless slit and insert his shaft into her
chilly depths.

True Tarsians had a
body temperature that was a good ten to twenty degrees lower than
those with Kindred blood. The result was that Kerov always felt
like he was fucking an ice sculpture—his partner was quite
literally frigid. Xirnah, for her part, often expressed discomfort
with his body’s warmth, saying that he burned her with his crude
Kindred heat. Kerov always apologized but again, how could he help
being himself?

He would try to
hurry the process along because he could feel Xirnah stiffen with
resentment at his intrusion. Thrusting mechanically, he took only
as long as was necessary to inseminate his partner exactly once.
Then he would withdraw, to their mutual relief, and Xirnah would
use his fresher facilities.

Though she never admitted it aloud, Kerov was certain she was
washing his seed out of herself, as quickly as possible. Of course,
there wasn’t much to wash away—his body would only produce a large
amount of sperm if he was with a female he truly wished to bond to
himself for life and Xirnah
certainly
didn’t fall into that category. And clearly he didn’t
fall into the bound-together-for-life category for her either—she
couldn’t wait to get his essence out of her.

Her eagerness to rid
herself of every trace of him right after sex might have hurt Kerov
if he had cared for her at all. But even after being paired with
her for the last three years, he could summon no emotion other than
dread when he knew it was time for their weekly state-mandated
sexual encounter.

“
How can relations between you not be amicable?” Jorn
demanded, breaking his train of thought. “I’ve seen your
partner—Xirnah, isn’t it? She’s quite a beauty. I wouldn’t mind
plowing her furrow myself.”

“
You shouldn’t speak so of another male’s partner,” Kerov
said, glowering at him. He might not like Xirnah much himself, but
he would be damned if he’d allow anyone to denigrate her. After
all, it wasn’t her fault she was assigned to him and that they
didn’t get along—it was pretty much the same with any partner he
was assigned to and had been since he had reached sexual maturity
at eighteen cycles.

“
Sorry,” Jorn said unrepentantly. “I’m just saying she’s
pretty—I wish I’d be assigned someone like her.”

“
No doubt Xirnah would like that,” Kerov said dryly. “In fact,
with your pure Tarsian blood, you’d be her ideal
partner.”

Jorn shrugged
philosophically. “Well then it’ll never happen—not unless there’s a
foul-up of unheard of proportions at the Ministry of Matching.”

“
True,” Kerov agreed. The Ministry of Matching was the
government agency that assigned sexual partners. But rather than
matching males and females that were most compatible together, they
sought out the most mismatched pairs they could find and put them
into sexual partnerships.

This was an
unpleasant but necessary part of life on Tarsia Six, where it had
been determined that too much interest in one’s sexual partner took
away focus from an individual’s state-mandated career and
responsibilities. Also, by matching people only with the opposite
of their ideal, the Tarsian government had been able to breed the
tendency to Switch or Trade bodies with their mates out of the
Kindred population.

It was said that
such a Trade was possible only between couples that were truly
meant to be together—fated by the Goddess to fall in love and form
a soul bond. By making sure that the males bearing Kindred DNA were
matched with a female they did not love, the tendency to Switch or
Trade or Jump—whatever you wanted to call it—had been all but
eradicated.

“
Well, I’d better go. I can’t keep Xirnah waiting and she
always arrives promptly at sixteen hundred hours,” Kerov told his
friend.

“
I
understand. Did you drive your rover?”

Kerov shook his
head. “Didn’t know I’d be getting a whole solar week off so I just
rode public transport.”

Jorn made a face.
“Ugh—it’s a long way home on pubtrans this time of day. I’d offer
you a lift but I’m on my way to celebrate.”

“
Alone?” Kerov raised an eyebrow at him.

“
Sure—why not? If my good friend can’t make it, I’ll have to
make do with what I can find. And you never can tell—I
might
find a female willing to share my
company for the night. I’ve been saving my credits to visit the new
brothel near the Ministry of Agriculture.”

“
Enjoy yourself then,” Kerov said blandly. Prostitution wasn’t
forbidden by the Tarsian government—in fact, it was encouraged as a
good way for over-eager males who weren’t content with their weekly
mandated sexual encounter to release tension. But the prostitutes
all wore masks and no talking was permitted during the encounter,
lest inappropriate feelings be engendered.

Kerov had tried it
once or twice but the sex workers were almost as cold as Xirnah and
even more impersonal. Though at least he didn’t have to worry about
impregnating any of them due to their compulsory use of
contraceptives and plasti-shield barriers both inside and out.
Still, he found the encounters to be like having sex with a machine
and after one or two trips to the state-run brothels, he’d avoided
them ever since.

“
I
will
enjoy myself—for both of
us since you’re so dreading your mandatory sex,” Jorn said,
laughing.

“
You don’t find it…impersonal?” Kerov asked, meaning both sex
at the brothel and the state mandated encounters.

“
Sure I do, but who cares?” Jorn shrugged his narrow
shoulders. “Fucking is fucking, my friend. The sooner you learn
that, the sooner you’ll begin to enjoy your time with the lovely
Xirnah.”

He clapped Kerov on
the shoulder once more and walked off, laughing.

Kerov sighed as he
watched him go. He wished he could adopt his friend’s nonchalant
attitude but somehow he couldn’t manage it. His parents, who had
joined before the Ministry of Matching had come to power, always
seemed so fond of each other—so “in love”, for want of a better
word.

Although the very idea of passionately loving one’s mate was
now considered a quaint and outdated notion, it was the ideal that
Kerov had been raised with. He couldn’t help remembering the loving
touches and kind words his parents often exchanged and comparing
them with the stilted conversation and cold, mechanical encounters
he had with Xirnah. He didn’t see his parents often now—he’d had to
move closer to the base and the Ministry of War, which put his
off-site quarters far from their domicile. But when he
did
manage to get back on State Holidays,
his Sire and Mother always seemed as much in love as
ever.

It
made Kerov feel like he had missed out on something
somehow—something vital and important. As much as he tried, he
couldn’t reduce sex to a purely biological function or a purely
recreational one either. It ought to
mean
something, damn it! Ought to have some significance
other than blowing off steam or producing offspring for the State.
At least that was what he thought, when he let himself think about
it at all.

Overhead, the last
whistle blew, signifying the end of the work day and letting
everyone know it was time to wrap up tasks and get back to assigned
domiciles and quarters. His underlings scattered and Kerov realized
he’d stalled long enough. It was time to go home and get ready for
his encounter with Xirnah.

An encounter he was
already beginning to dread.

* *
* * *

“
So he
actually
asked you out on a date?” Lacy leaned forward eagerly, sipping
her Pumpkin Spice Latte with evident relish. She was a nurse over
at University Community Hospital and since Frankie worked at the
University Square Mall, down the street, they often tried to
coordinate their break schedules to grab some girl time in the food
court.