He scrambled to get off him as Larz turned to deal with the mortified guard and Janos helped Setin to his feet. Rasc stood by, perilously close to the colonel, not touching him, yet still able to feel the tingling imprint of his hands on his ass. He wiped at his nose and a fresh, sparkling white piece of cloth was thrust into his hands.
“Use this,” Bonnett growled at him. “Well, go ahead. Don’t just stand there staring at me.”
“I don’t want to mess it up.”
“Just use the damn thing.”
Bonnett began straightening his uniform, a heavy scowl still on his face. “Just so we’re clear,” he warned and turned to murmur in Rasc’s ear. “Nothing can happen between us. Nothing.”
“Okay, sure,” Rasc said, blinking rapidly. Bonnett stalked away and Janos gave Rasc a long, speculative look.
“I’m sorry about the guard,” Larz sighed. “They can be overzealous at times.”
“You can say that again,” Rasc said, not quite under his breath, earning himself another admonishing look from the colonel.
“Well, if you don’t mind, let’s get down to business.”
Rasc was seriously at a loss as to what he and Setin could have done to merit this kind of attention from the Governor of the planet. He wondered if they’d located his contraband, but then decided Prince Larz wouldn’t involve himself in such a trivial matter. He shifted on his feet, pressed the cloth harder to his nose in an effort to stanch the bleeding, and tried to pay attention.
“I wanted to talk to you about your time on Gatifrey.”
Lifting his head in surprise, he blinked at Larz. “Gatifrey? I haven’t been there in years...or maybe six or seven cycles, as you call them.”
“Begging your pardon, Your Worship, but I have,” Setin offered brightly, nodding his head for emphasis.
“Shut up, Setin,” Rasc whispered to him. “You talk too damn much.” But Larz looked over at Setin with interest.
“You have? In what capacity?”
“Well, Your Worship. I had me a Gatifreyan mate you know. Like Rasc here used to have. My mate loved to fight but was good between the sheets too, if you know what I mean.” Setin winked and Rasc laughed out loud, and the laugh was so good natured and infectious, even Janos smiled. Larz and Bonnett just stared at Rasc and then back at Setin.
“Are you saying you were married to a Gatifreyan too?” Larz asked in an incredulous tone.
“Not married, no. Not in the way you mean. They don’t do that with aliens, like I was considered to be. I had a Lura though. My mate was Log-ima.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand your terms. You had a what? A Lura? And Logima? What do these words mean?”
“A Lura is like a mate, but temporary,” Rasc explained. “There isn’t anything like it on Laltana. On Tygeria or Earth either, for that matter. The word literally means ‘just for now.’ Kind of like a marriage while it lasts, with all the benefits, but never meant to be anything other than short term, with no expectations of longevity. As opposed to a Yru, which is more exclusive and longer term.”
“And the other word? Logima? Is that your wife’s name?” Janos asked softly.
“Log-ima wasn’t no wife. No her either, or him, for that matter. They were non-binary, like all the Gatifreyans. And no, it wasn’t their name. It was their…what do you call it, Rasc?” he said, turning to me.
“It’s their designation. Like their name, but Gatifreyans don’t have names, not the way we think of them. Their designations are a little like their profession and their ranking in their own family order.”
“That’s right,” Setin agreed. “The family Log-ima belonged to was called Log, which in their language means pilot. Most every person in that family unit would have been a pilot on some ship or other. My Log-ima was pilot of a starcruiser. You see, family aren’t close and aren’t necessarily related biologically. You might be born into one group, but then later, as you developed your own interests, you could decide to change units. Families on Gatifrey are usually drawn and held together by common interests or jobs. And my mate was ima, which is a little harder to explain.”
“Try,” Bonnett growled, a little impatiently. Rasc liked the sound of that growl coming from him. He wondered what kind of little sounds Bonnett might make if Rasc was lying under him.
Rasc glanced over at Setin and then stepped in to help him out. “Gatifreyans have a sort of numbering system, for want