Counselor Patel glanced at the officiant, who gave a small nod and left, closing the door behind her.
“His name is Vuhr,” she said, finally turning the tablet toward me. “And he’s...well, perhaps it’s better if you see for yourself.”
I looked down at the screen and felt my breath catch. The image showed a being unlike anything I had imagined. Not monstrous, not exactly, but utterly, completely alien.
“He’s waiting for you,” Counselor Patel said softly. “And based on everything we know about his kind, he’s probably just as nervous as you are.”
I doubted that very much. But I straightened my shoulders and nodded. I had made my choice when I signed those papers, when I accepted that Earth had nothing left to offer me. Whether from desperation or courage, I had chosen this path.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“Now,” she said, standing and offering me her hand, “we get you ready to meet your future.”
I took her hand and rose, leaving my old life behind in that chair. Whatever waited for me beyond those sterile corridors couldn’t possibly be worse than the slow death I’d been living. At least this way, I’d chosen my fate.
Even if I had no idea what that fate would look like.
two
Counselor Patel ushered me into what she called the “Cultural Immersion Suite,” but it reminded me more of a medical examination room crossed with a high-tech classroom. Holographic displays lined the walls, inactive for now, and a circular table in the center held various objects I couldn’t identify. My stomach clenched as a technician approached with what looked like neural interface equipment—thin, adhesive sensors designed to accelerate language acquisition and cultural understanding.
“We don’t have time for the full protocol,” Counselor Patel said, gesturing for me to sit in a contoured chair. “But we need to cover the essentials before your first meeting with Vuhr.”
The technician placed the sensors at my temples with practiced efficiency. “These won’t hurt,” he murmured. “Just relax and let the information flow.”
Relax. Right. As if that were possible when I was about to be married to an alien I’d never met.
The wall in front of me illuminated with a holographic display of what I assumed was Vuhr’s species. I inhaled sharply. The being displayed was simultaneously beautiful and terrifying—a hybrid creature with elements that seemed cobbled together from Earth’s most dangerous predators, yet arranged with an undeniable harmony.
“The Serrathi are a warrior race from the desert world of Karesh,” Counselor Patel explained as the image rotated, showing the creature from all angles. “They evolved as apex predators in an environment we would consider lethal. Their society values strength, honor, and duty above all else.”
The hologram zoomed in on specific anatomical features. A humanoid torso and head attached to a powerful, leonine body. Large, folded wings that appeared capable of short flight. And most alarmingly, a segmented tail ending in what was unmistakably a stinger.
“Important safety note,” the technician said, his voice clinically detached. “Do not touch the tail unless explicitly invited to do so. It contains defense mechanisms that are instinctive and not always under conscious control.”
I swallowed hard. “Defense mechanisms?”
“Venom,” Counselor Patel clarified. “Though ‘venom’ isn’t quite accurate. It’s a complex biochemical compound with multiple functions.”
The hologram shifted to show internal anatomy, highlighting a series of glands near the base of the tail. I felt heat rise to my face as I realized where this was going.
“The Serrathi mating process involves an exchange of biochemical markers,” the technician continued. “In simplifiedterms, venom shared through climax creates a physiological bond between mates.”
“I’m sorry,” I interrupted, my voice higher than normal. “Did you just say ‘venom shared through climax’?”
Counselor Patel gave me a sympathetic look. “It’s not dangerous to humans. Quite the opposite, actually. The compounds have been thoroughly analyzed and are compatible with human physiology. In fact, they contain properties that will extend your lifespan to match his, enhance your immune system, and establish a biochemical connection that both cultures recognize as a marriage bond.”
The implications struck me like a physical blow. This wasn’t just a political arrangement or a convenient pairing. This was a biological merger, something that would fundamentally alter my body chemistry.
“This isn’t in the standard briefings,” I said, trying to keep accusation from my tone.
“It’s covered in section 37B of the contract you signed,” the technician replied, not looking up from his tablet. “Under ‘Physiological Adaptations and Modifications.’”
I vaguely remembered skimming that section, assuming it referred to vaccinations or dietary supplements. Not venomous sexual bonding.
The hologram shifted again, now displaying what appeared to be a Serrathi settlement—structures of pale stone built into and around cliff faces, with gardens of strange, spiky vegetation in terraced arrangements.
“Vuhr is what they call a Boundary Guardian,” Counselor Patel continued. “An elite warrior tasked with patrolling the borders of Serrathi territory. It’s a position of high honor, given only to those who have proven themselves in combat and demonstrated exceptional judgment.”
