Kanti 1 (Patreon)

@Pufnstuff was asking if there would ever be a fourth Kanti book. I'd love to write one and I have an idea of how it would start and the complications that set the story in motion, but I'm real hazy on exactly where it would head.

So, here is a series of three posts. The first two could be the first two scenes of a fourth Kanti book. The third will be a space to gather your ideas. I would love to discuss this, to brainstorm up some possibilities. I'll mark that post with spoiler tags so if you don't want to know what could happen before the book is done, you can skip it.

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Kanti glanced up when he heard the airlock cycle. “Who the heck? Suni! Hey, Suni!” he called at the chocolate-brown teen. “We didn’t leave anyone behind, did we?”

The doctor shook her head as she hurried toward the airlock. “No, everyone was accounted for at the end of shift. Perhaps a sourang trader paying us a visit?”

“I can’t see why they’d bother,” he huffed. “We just traded for everything we needed only what, three days ago?”

“Could be one of your friends, popping in,” said Tish as she scooped Rahua off the concrete floor.

“Hope so,” said Kanti, but inside, his stomach twisted. He loved seeing all the friends he made while enslaved to the sourang, and they seemed to get along with the village just great, but he worried about Lape or Buito coming over.

Kanti had already confessed his indiscretions with the two to Tish—and she never held it against them—but having either of them in the same room with Tish made him really uncomfortable. Instead of enjoying the visit, he would spend the whole time feeling bad that he had ever given up on returning home.

The other geroo cleared away as Kanti spun the handwheel on the metal hatch. “Hello?” he called as he pulled it open.

A long-eared head peeked around the hatch’s lip and Kanti’s ears lit with recognition. “Tikkatikkachitter!” he shouted. “It’s so nice to see you.”

Her long whiskers drooped. “I wish you would not use my name,” she sighed. It was no longer taboo for him to say it, now that she didn’t own him, so Kanti tended to say it more often than he really needed to—out of spite. “Your pronunciation is terrible.”

“Sorry about that, Tikkatikkachitter,” he said. “I can never manage the throat sounds like your people do.”

The sourang walked in on all fours with Mila following only two steps behind. The geroo looked so happy to be back, his ears were practically beaming.

“Mila!” shouted several of the crew as soon as they spotted him. They rushed forward, mobbing him with touched paws and hugs.

Kanti tried to smile, tried to keep the sadness from making his ears droop, but he hated seeing how the sourang kept their slaves stripped naked. Kanti had despised not being able to wear his necklace and bracelet back when Tikkatikkachitter owned him.

The sourang slipped from the quickly forming crowd, and Kanti and his mate followed. Although happy to see his old mistress, he was never quite certain how he should greet her. Hugging his former owner seemed too intimate, and he felt strange offering to touch her paw while she stood on all fours, so instead he just put an arm around Tish’s waist and smiled. “What a pleasant surprise,” said Kanti. “Welcome to our barracks.”

Tikkatikkachitter froze, her eyes opened wide. “Is this your daughter, warrior-Kanti?”

Kanti nodded and Tish held her closer, her ears beaming with pride. “This is Rahua,” she said. “Rahua, meet your father’s friend, Tikkatikkachitter.”

The sourang moved quickly to her haunches, lifting a clawed finger close to the cub. Her eyes flashed between Tish and Rahua with the unspoken question that any mother could translate.

“Would you like to hold her?” asked Tish, but without even waiting for a response, she began transferring the cub into Tikkatikkachitter’s arms. They paused for a moment to see if Rahua would fuss at being held by a stranger, but when she didn’t, the sourang scooped her up, cradling the fuzzy bundle to her chest.

For the longest time, she said nothing. She just stared at the cub with her nose only centimeters away, not even flinching as Rahua’s curious paws grabbed at Tikkatikkachitter’s face and whiskers.

“Don’t grab, sweetie,” whispered Kanti, but the sourang seemed oblivious. She looked up at Tish to coo, “She’s beautiful.”

“She’s certainly a pouchful,” sighed Tish, taking a moment to stroke Rahua’s ears with her fingers.

“Did you want—” said Kanti, but the sourang spoke over him.

“My mate died,” she whispered

Both Kanti and Tish gasped, their ears pointing upright. Tish covered her mouth and Kanti put a paw on his former mistress’s shoulder. “Oh no! I’m so sorry to hear it.” He had only met her mate once, had never even learned his name, but he could imagine losing Tish, just how devastating that would be. He had no words that could even surround such an end-of-the-galaxy sized nightmare.

Tikkatikkachitter buried her cheek against Rahua’s round belly, breathing in her scent a long while. “He never,” she whispered, “got over losing our daughter.”

No one said anything. But what could they? Though her murderer had been executed, all the geroo shared some responsibility for her death.

The silence stretched and the proud parents let Tikkatikkachitter cuddle with the cub as long as she wished before finally transferring Rahua back over to Tish. “It got me thinking of a trade I thought I could … I might propose…” the sourang continued to whisper. Then she raised her head and looked back over top of the crowd to her slave.

Mila perked up instantly and worked his way swiftly through the crowd with a “Pardon” and “Excuse me” until he had finally reached his mistress.

Tikkatikkachitter held out a paw and Mila quickly ducked under the strap of a bag he carried on his shoulder. He handed it over and his eyes dropped to the deck.

“Is this what you wanted to trade?” asked Kanti, but the sourang’s black eyes stared at him, unblinking.

“Of course not,” she said. “That would be vulgar.

“There’s a shop in the basement owned by _____ and _____,” she said to Tish. The names were just a series of trills and clicks, but that they were names seemed clear enough. “The couple you gave your other slave to.”

“Girish,” filled in Kanti. Both Girish and Mila had helped in the murders, and the village had agreed to punish them by giving the two away to the grieving families. Kanti told both couples that they could punish them if they wished, that they could keep them as slaves, and that if they ever wished to give them up, that either would be welcome to return to the village—their debts considered paid.

“Yes, him,” said the sourang. “They sell junk, sell oddities. They did not want these, so they had them up for sale.” Tish had one paw full, holding her cub, so the sourang held open the bag for Tish to reach in.

The tall geroo pulled out a necklace and bracelet—Girish’s, presumably.

“Your mate explained to me that these items have great sentimental value to your people.” Tikkatikkachitter handed the empty bag back to her slave and took a moment to scratch at her ruff. “So, I purchased them for you, as a gift.”

“Thank you,” said Tish with a smile. “That was very considerate.”

“I’m certain that Girish—” Kanti started to say.

Tikkatikkachitter turned to him, interrupting. “They also had his skull on display,” she explained. “Displayed prominently, like a trophy. I made them an offer on it, but they would not negotiate.”

“Oh,” said Kanti. He glanced over at Mila who was cowering a little lower than he had stood only a moment ago. He had gotten lucky that his owner was a slave owner instead of a couple looking to avenge their lost son.

“Then you wanted to trade…?” asked Kanti.

The sourang ignored him, turning back to Tish. “The thing I wished to discuss trading is … a delicate manner. And I am sad to say that I do not know your people well enough yet to understand its worth—or whether you consider it to have any worth at all.” She sighed. “Could we go someplace private to discuss the possibility?”

Tish smiled and shrugged. “I’m afraid this one room is all we get,” she explained.

“We could…” said the sourang, glancing toward the airlock. “No, I suppose you cannot breathe Krakuntec air, can you?”

Tish shook her head. With a touch to the sourang’s paw, she led her away from the others. “We can at least go over here. We can talk quietly.”

Kanti looked to Mila, looked to the others. Mila stared at the deck, the only one not focused on Tish’s negotiation. It was rude to eavesdrop, of course, but everyone wanted to know more.

“As you know,” said the sourang quietly, “your mate no longer has his own DNA. It has been replaced with my mate’s … my former mate’s code.”

Tish nodded, said nothing.

“And the more I think on it, the more I miss my mate and my daughter…” She turned back toward the crew; saw how they were all staring. She sighed before turning back to Tish. “I think that even alone, I would like another chance to bear one of his pups.”

“What?” gasped Kanti.

“I did not bring anything to offer because I did not wish to insult you, if you treasure such a thing,” said Tikkatikkachitter, “but if there is something you want, I could get it for you.” She glanced back at Mila. “I could even return your slave to you, if you wanted.” At this, Mila’s head popped up, desperation clear in his eyes. He looked as if he had never wanted something more than this.

Tikkatikkachitter sighed. “What would you want in exchange to let your mate impregnate me?”

“You can’t…!” shouted Kanti as he marched up to the two. “You can’t go around negotiating my semen. I am no longer a slave!”

The sourang’s head snapped to the side, lifted high and staring down at Kanti. “It is not your semen!” she shouted. Rahua began to cry and so did Tikkatikkachitter.

Ever so slowly the huge creature collapsed in on herself, broken and hurting.

“It may be in your sac,” she sobbed, “but it is my mate’s.”

———

Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_FY5WfcK8OIdBCXQAS2HX6xKQI4qq_Psk0Jo63rd1Rg/edit?usp=sharing

What do you think?