Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
The human farmers wouldn’t understand that this wounded, petite vorec female could not charge them, so I swallowed my empathy and tightened my grip.
Running toward the limping thing, sword at the ready, I found the look of her comforting. Female vorec were much prettier than their larger male counterparts, their bones smaller, but their talons far more sharp.
Not to be underestimated up close.
Even wounded.
My sword moved in a beautiful arc as I turned my body so her claws would catch only air.
She was ended mercifully. A clean kill.
As she breathed her last, I observed her delicate and deadly body, aware it was a great pity she had not been a male. That her death served no purpose beyond fulfilling my duty to the military and the tight-knit group of human women huddling behind the granary.
I needed to see a male’s sex organ. I needed to take a closer look at their bodies. But fate only sent me this one wounded female lying dead at my feet.
Matilde, an aging human female, crept closer to see the fresh corpse. “She was a pretty one.”
A vibrant pink, very large, very dead lizard.
Coming to my side, Matilde poked the pink scales. “This would make a nice hide.”
I could do that for her, skin the thing and make use of some part of it. A sword was a bit clunky for such work, but I had done it before, pulling the beast this way and that to strip its leather away.
While I had a human in a crouch assisting me, our backs to the armed watcher on the parapet fifty meters away, I took my chance and asked a direct question that would have seen both of my legs broken should an instructor have heard. “Matilde, I need to know what happens during sex.”
Surprise caused her to freeze in her work, yet she recovered quickly.
“Ahh.” She nodded, prodding the lizard as if she too knew such knowledge was forbidden to me and did not want to draw attention. Pulling out her communication device, she quickly accessed something and displayed it on the screen for me to see. “This is sex.”
At first, I didn’t understand what I was looking at. There was a lot of hair on both bodies where they joined. Then the male withdrew, and I saw a rounded protuberance, slightly darker than the flesh of his belly, jutting from his hips. Below it was some sort of flopping sac. It didn’t look very threatening, and now that I could see the full anatomy of the female, it was obvious where he fit.
But my body did not look like hers. I was not soft, I had no hair, and there was no slit or opening large enough for a male penis to penetrate.
Between my legs, all was smooth, solid flesh.
My expression must have been one of disgust, for Matilde tried to console me. “I know it looks strange, but sex is pleasurable for humans. I’m under the impression hybrids enjoy it as well.”
How could I enjoy something that I could not physically do? “I don’t look like that, Matilde.”
“Hybrid pornography is prohibited, so I have no basis for comparison. But I have heard things—the right man knows what to do.”
“And the wrong male?” I whispered.
She gave me a look of pity. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”
8
Weapons Instructor Dirum stood before the class, accepting no nonsense as she glared. Prepared to smack with her switch, or snap the tiny pinky fingers of those little kiddos who were not perfect soldiers at the ready, she asked, “Why do we use edged weapons in the fog and not firearms?”
A little boy, no more than seven, raised his hand. “Because we cannot see in the fog well enough to know what we are shooting at.”
“That’s right. Well done, Bruno.” Addressing the young class, Instructor Dirum went into further detail. “When humans first landed on this planet 643 years ago, many lives were lost to accidents in the fog. Friendly fire stole precious genetics we cannot get back. We no longer take such risks now that hybrids can protect fragile human life. Genetic diversity is necessary for the survival of us all.”
Standing at her side, silent as per my orders, I watched the instructor lead the class.
“Now, children, show me how to hold your weapon. Position one!” Instructor Dirum blew her whistle, and each of the littles did their best with their practice swords.
It was my job to silently correct their form. Moving from one to the next until the whole group of itty-bitties was perfect.
The whistle blew. “Position two!”
Nowhere near in unison, the children did their best to raise their sword above their head in preparation for a downward chopping movement. Should their position be correct, the single blade would face downward. However, several of my littles had their sword upside-down.