Page 37 of Truthful Deceptions

“I’m sorry I forced you into having sex,” she said, reaching out to pat my thigh. “You must have thought I was the weirdest domestic servant ever.”

I sounded a negative rattle. “I thought perhaps you were lonely. Being the only human on Bright Star Station couldn't have been easy.”

A strange look crossed her face before she asked another question.

“You never told me why scent bonding is a bad thing,” she pressed.

I decided to be blunt. “If we're separated from a bonded partner for too long, we can die. It's called Ending, or if you want to be more formal, scent collapse syndrome. Scent bonding is an addiction that can kill us."

Her expression turned sad. “That's horrible. I mean, it's sweet, but also sad.”

“Our species used to write poetry,” I whispered. Although it could be easily accessed in various archives, it was considered an artform only suitable to our past selves and much too sentimental for our modern empire. “There are so many poems about the beauty of scent bonding. Poets tried again and again to put the feeling in words.”

Her expression turned soft with a half-smile. “That sounds a lot like love.”

I sounded a negative rattle. “Scent bonding is biological. Love is a human emotional concept.”

My words were a little harsher than I meant them to be, but she didn't lose her smile.

“If you say so.”

The silence stretched between us until I broke it. “Perhaps there are some similarities. Humans can become ill if they don't have the appropriate level of companionship.”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Then I guess there's no worry about the two of us scent bonding,” she said, rubbing her own cheek. “I don’t have any scent glands.”

I wasn't ready to tell her yet, so I kept quiet. She yawned, a clear sign of fatigue in humans.

“You need to rest. What can I do to make you more comfortable?"

“You need the rest too,” she said. “You were the one falling over in the hall. Lay back down.”

“Anything you like,” I agreed, stretching out on my side again.

“On your back please,” she said, pressing against my chest. I rolled on my back and was rewarded for following instructions when she nestled against my side.

“This is nice,” she murmured.

“It is,” I agreed. Purring, I gave into my need and rubbed my aching scent glands into her hair.

She took a deep breath. “I like that. It smells good.”

Yes, I thought. It smells good because my life is now tied to you.

The poets were right. Scent bonding was a type of wonderful horror.

I didn't say any of that. Despite my best efforts, I fell asleep with her small, soft body tucked tight against me.

Opal

What was I doing?

Instead of reading about the next station we were going to or double-checking the escape route, I was laying here snuggling with Tolly.

Honestly, I was crazy for stopping when I saw him in the hall in the first place. I’d been reading up on their culture on the ship’s unibase, stumbled on the sex stuff, and had to put the information square down.

It made me not only feel guilty but restless. Now that the Talin’s knew I was perfectly healthy, I didn’t expect to find anyone in the hall. I’d planned to find my way to the galley for a cup of tea and maybe a snack. I assumed the door was programmed to them when it opened, so I expected to have company quickly.

Except Tolly had been there in the hall, fast asleep in an awkward position.