What was it with aliens and pancakes?
When Xiù had volunteered to help in the kitchen she’d only thought about helping the Gaoians in some way. She was a stranger – not even of their own species – and yet they’d given her shelter, a bed, food, and even clothing. They were amazingly good people, and she didn’t feel right lazing about and leaching on their hospitality.
After a few weeks – when Myun’s lessons got her to the point where she thought she could express herself coherently – she offered to clean. But there wasn’t much she could clean… that was a chore left to the cubs, who each day after the evening meal would descend on a different room as a pack – nearly fifty strong! – and have it spotless within minutes. It was hilarious and awe-inspiring, and the lone human barely had time to lift a cloth before the job was done.
Her next try was helping the Sisters with the gardens, but winter was coming, and again there was little to do. Her strength helped a little, carrying ceramic pots and bags of earth, but it wasn’t necessary, because the Gaoians had amazing floating sleds that defied gravity which the Sisters used to carry around anything heavy. It was a subtle reminder that the people who had taken her in were a spacefaring race, possessing technologies hundreds, maybe thousands of years ahead of humanity.
Eventually, it was an “incident” that gave her an idea.
The commune often had what she’d call “game nights”, where the Mothers would gather together and play what appeared to be cards. The “cards” were discs, but had the same general idea: one side was blank, while the other had a picture and a value. The game involved assembling a collection of the cards, and cards could be bartered between players as well as randomly drawn. Each player’s “pool” could be viewed, but not their final collection… so it was like someone had crossed assembling a puzzle with poker.
Ayma had invited her to one of these games, and after some brief explanation of the rules she’d joined in. They snacked on little finger foods that looked and tasted like naan chips and passed around numerous jugs of a tart juice they called talamay which reminded Xiù of Fanta. They played and chittered and talked, and while Xiù had a rather limited Gaoian vocabulary and didn’t get most of the jokes, she listened carefully, sipping on her talamay.
She lost the first six games, which really wasn’t a surprise. She won the seventh, which was. Soon, she was winning almost every game, but the Mothers took it in good stride and cheered her wins with amusing little fist pumps. She drank her talamay and toasted them for their good sport, though she’d had to explain the gesture. By the twentieth game she was losing again… though that might have had something to do with the fact that the cards had traitorously turned into blurred splotches of colour.
As it turned out, talamay contained rather a lot of alcohol. And Xiù – who never drank – didn’t realize it until it was too late.
She was so glad her mother wasn’t there to see her.
It didn’t affect Gaoians the way it did humans, so the Mothers looked on with curiosity and concern as Xiù excused herself, climbing to shaky feet. She made it five steps before she fell over, and she had to assure the suddenly worried Mothers that she was fine – she was better than fine, everything was amazing! Xiù was a happy drunk, and her giggles sounded a lot like Gaoian chittering. She wasn’t really sure whether she was speaking English or Gaori or Mandarin, mind you… and would anyone mind if she just slept right here? Xiè xiè!
They ended up calling the commune doctor, a serious but pleasant Mother by the name of Trivai, but there was nothing she could do. She didn’t know what was happening, much less what to do about it, so in the end they just left her where she was (she was too heavy to lift) and kept an eye on her to make sure she didn’t vomit or stop breathing. Not difficult, because apparently she snored when sleeping the sleep of the sloshed.
When she woke up the next morning it was to a quietly keening Myun sitting nearby, worrying about her friend. Xiù managed to assure the little cub she was fine… or she would be. At that particular moment her head wanted water, a dark room, and silence. Please, please, Myun: silence.
Eventually she was coherent enough to explain what had happened to the Mothers, as difficult as it was considering she didn’t know their word for alcohol. They listened with relief and humour… and though they’d been worried at the time the entire incident eventually became a source of comedy. Xiù didn’t mind… seeing the “mighty human” laid low by juice of all things did a lot to humanize (Gaoianize?) her in the eyes of those Mothers and Sisters who were still nervous in her presence. She suffered the teasing with their version of a sheepish shrug – a ducking of the head and rolling eyes.
But it was a good lesson: she’d been blindly eating what they gave her, without really thinking about it. She was living on an alien world, eating alien food, and it was surprising she hadn’t had a reaction to anything. She wasn’t a biologist or even a nutritionist, but she should probably be paying attention to what she put in her mouth. The easiest way to do that was to see her food being made… and maybe help out a little bit while doing so!
An idea!
She’d worked at a Chinese restaurant though most of her highschool years and sometimes during summer vacation from university, so she knew her way around a kitchen. Her mother had also taught her how to cook (so that she could be a “proper wife”). At first she’d resented it, but she soon learned that it was a handy skill. Bringing a tray of xiā jiǎo or lo mai gai always made her immensely popular at a party: her Cantonese friends always appreciated the taste of home, and her caucasian friends didn’t know the difference between Mandarin and Cantonese food but thought it was delicious all the same.
With Ayma’s blessing she learned how to cook Gaoian food. It wasn’t particularly hard. Most of the dishes were fairly simple: breads, and steamed vegetables, and roasted meats. She did not ask where the meats came from: she’d learned that lesson the hard way. She was no stranger to exotic foodstuffs… she was Chinese, after all, with a very traditionalist mother. Chicken feet, beef tripe, even xiě dòufǔ or “blood tofu” – she’d eaten it all, with varying levels of enthusiasm (she’d rather french fries or a turkey sub).
Still, learning that nava paste – an ingredient in a lot of Gaoian foodstuffs – was made from pureeing the innards of a roasted grub the size of her forearm really tested her limits.
Once she’d grasped the basic dishes, she began… experimenting. The Gaoians didn’t have rice, but they did have something like flour. Rather than sugar, they used something like sweet bay leaves. They had salt, of course, and a variety of interesting spices. Xiù played with them, mixing and matching, until she managed to cook up a reasonable facsimile of dòu shā bāo, or sweet paste buns. She wolfed down half the batch out of pure homesickness… then began “testing” her creations on the others at the commune.
Myun liked them, but the little Gaoian thought her human friend could walk on water. Xiù suspected she could lay around all day in her bra and panties, drinking beer and belching like a frat boy during exams, and Myun would think it was the Best Thing Ever… the little girl wasn’t exactly unbiased. So instead she brought her experiments to Yulna, because if she’d learned anything during her time with the community, it was that you could rely on Yulna to tell you exactly what she thought.
The bāo went over well. Noodles were a huge hit; soups and thin sauces not so much (it tended to drip through chin fur). She learned that Gaoians tended to like their food sweet, and didn’t care at all for hot spices. That was unfortunate… Xiù loved spicy food.
But she really hit the jackpot when she made pancakes, and she didn’t know why… it wasn’t like the Gaoians were strangers to sweetbreads. Maybe it was the presentation, or the syrup she made to go along with it, or the idea of topping it with fruit. In any event it was hugely popular, and it became something of a new tradition for a Mother or Sister who had agreed to a mating contract to march into the meal hall and demand some.
Aliens, mating, and pancakes. So weird.
Xiù’s best friend growing up had been a girl named Allison Chan. The two had drifted apart a little bit as they entered university, but Allison would always be one of her favourite people. Xiù had been interested in acting, while Allison was more practical-minded, choosing sociology as her degree.
Allison would have loved Gao. There was enough material on the alien world to author a million papers.
Xiù knew that the Gaoians separated themselves into clans. The males tended to form many clans, while the females all belonged to one. The females were like a nation within nations… the male clans would take and hold territory, compete and fight, while the females drifted as they wished, not caring one whit about lines on a map. They generally kept themselves out of the bickering and politicking of the males, so long as no cubs or females were harmed… but when they did act, it was as a whole, and no clan on Gao could resist them.
When she learned that the Gaoian genders tended to keep to themselves, Xiù had wondered if the females were kept like pets in gilded cages. Not so: the females could go anywhere they wanted, learn anything they wanted, seek any job they wanted. In a curious contrast to Earth’s own outdated stereotypes, it was males who had to fight the assumption that they were flighty and emotional, though they were also seen as bold and adventurous, almost reckless. Females were seen as steadfast, practical, and resolute.
Marriage didn’t exist on Gao, but they did have their own form of dating. Females were entirely in charge of the reproductive process, and the males essentially spent their lives trying to attract the interest of a female (so overall it wasn’t that different from Earth, Xiù thought with amusement). The means to attract a female was as widely varied as it was for humans… some Gaoian females liked physically strong males, others liked those who were intelligent. Some preferred the wealthy or politically powerful, while others simply favoured those males who were kind.
If a male caught a female’s attention, he could offer a mating contract. If she agreed, they would meet, “do the deed”… and then most likely never see each other again. Cubs were raised by the community – the mating contract was a record and safety against inbreeding, but a Gaoian almost never knew their true parents beyond what clan they were in. All males tithed a portion of their earnings to the Clan of Females to support the raising of the cubs. A male could tithe as much as he wanted to, and some were quite generous in an attempt to gain favour with the females (although a male who tithed so much he hurt himself was considered an idiot and actually lowered his chances).
This made Xiù feel guilty, because she knew her upkeep must be fairly expensive. She ate a lot compared to the other females, and though the nutrient spheres she used as supplements were fairly cheap, she also needed to take mineral supplements… particularly calcium. The Gaoians were very advanced, but surely her special needs weren’t free. Were there two or three males out there forced to sponsor a female they had absolutely no chance of scoring with? She hoped not; she didn’t even like it when a guy would tip too much at her waitressing job in the hopes of getting her phone number.
Then there was the search for Earth, which apparently involved up to three Gaoian cruisers at this point. Xiù tried to picture any government on her homeworld devoting three ships to searching for the homeland of one stranger. Ayma assured her that it wasn’t a hardship – in fact, the males got a thrill out of that sort of thing. Still, Xiù’s gratitude couldn’t be measured.
She hoped she’d have an opportunity to return the favour someday.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d spent on her adoptive world. It had been about three-quarters of a Gaoian year, but she didn’t know how long that was in Earth years. She wasn’t even sure how long a local day was… she didn’t have a watch, and her iPhone had run out of battery within three days of her kidnapping and had been left behind at Trig’s facility. But she had to have been on Gao for nearly an Earth year. The Gaoians were wonderful people, but somewhere on Earth her parents and brother must think she was dead, and it made her sick to think of how they must feel.
There was nothing she could do to help, though… nothing she could say without sounding demanding or ungrateful. So she helped with the small chores she was capable of, and waited.
It was a fairly early morning and the commune was enjoying its breakfast. It wasn’t a “pancake” day, though one Sister, Eama, was heavily pregnant and due almost any day. Most of the commune was enjoying their typical breakfast of cereal or the Gaoian equivalent of oatmeal. The one sign of Xiù’s influence was the “whipped cream” that some of the Mothers and Sisters were piling on top of of their nuts and berries… the human had figured out how to sweeten and whip the liquid from a foodstuff that was remarkably like soy. It was a big hit, both in the commune and beyond.
Xiù sat at the table along with the other Sisters, a bowl of cereal in front of her, most of it already gone. It was hard not to compare the meal hall of the commune with the Great Hall from the Harry Potter movies. Closest to the main doors were the long tables where the cubs would sit, chattering and chittering and generally being noisy like children should be. In the middle were the tables where the thirty or so Sisters – including the lone human – would sit, more dignified than the cubs but sometimes not by much. At the front of the room was the single long table, arranged perpendicular to the others, where the twenty Mothers who remained at the commune sat and watched the rest.
Comparing the commune to Hogwarts often cheered Xiù up. Even the personalities matched in some cases. Mother Garmin, the “headmaster”, was cheerful and happy and always knew what was going on, though she sometimes pretended otherwise. Serious, watchful Ayma was definitely McGonagall. Yulna could be Snape… not because she was malicious or petty, but because she had no time or interest in anyone else’s crap and wasn’t shy about saying it.
Xiù rolled one of her nutrition spheres around in the remains of the nuts in the bottom of her bowl. The spheres didn’t taste bad, but they didn’t taste good either, and the texture was awful… the crunch of the nuts helped a lot. The Sisters at the table paid no mind; her appetite had long since ceased to be worthy of comment, much to her relief. She knew she needed the nutrients – it was a struggle just to keep her weight up – but she still felt like a gluttonous pig every time she had to eat one of the spheres, a single one of which was an entire meal to a Gaoian.
She had finished the sphere and was swallowing her calcium supplement when the room quieted slightly. She looked up to see a lone male Gaoian marching through the meal hall, catching the interest of some of the cubs and Sisters. The male – obviously not a member of the commune – marched up to Garmin and spoke quietly, ducking his head in respect. The nearby Mothers could hear what was being said, and as their eyes flickered over to Xiù, she knew what – or who – was being discussed.
Garmin caught her gaze and gestured, calling her over. Xiù left her empty bowl (one of the cubs would grab it later, cleaning the tables was part of their chores…) and walked up to the head table.
“Shoo,” Garmin greeted. None of the Gaoians could pronounce her given name, but honestly a lot of her friends in Canada had struggled, too. The Head Mother nodded toward the male. “This is Officer Regaari, who is part of the security and executive staff for Mother-Supreme Giymuy, and her liaison to the Whitecrest clan.”
Regaari was taller than Xiù but he still ducked his head respectfully. “Sister Shoo. I’ve been sent by the Mother-Supreme to ask you to come to the capital city. I don’t know the details, but I believe she needs you for a meeting.” He had evidently noticed the slow, careful way Garmin spoke to her and emulated it. Xiù appreciated the gesture… she was still nowhere near fluent in Gaori, the principal language of the world she was on, and when someone spoke too fast she would get lost.
“Okay. Um… what reason?”
She knew her question was clumsy, but to his credit Regaari knew what she was asking. “I’m afraid I don’t know the subject, but I believe it has to do with the negotiations with the Dominion.”
“Okay. When leave? Pardon, when do we leave?”
“I have a shuttle here now, and I’ll bring you back in time for the evening meal.”
Garmin held up a paw. “Sister Shoo will need someone to come along with her.”
Ayma stood up. “I can help. Yulna can teach my class this morning.”
“Oh joy,” the Mother in question responded, but she bobbed her head in a Gaoian nod. Xiù hid a grin.
Realizing something, she turned and raised an arm to wave toward the back of the room where Myun sat eating breakfast with her brothers and sisters – cubs of different mothers but who were near the same age. She’d been watching Xiù the moment she’d been called to the front table, and she darted to her feet and practically ran over.
“Myun, I must go to meeting in capital,” Xiù explained. “So probably no taiji today, okay? Or,” the furry little girl perked up from the crestfallen look that had been crossing her features, “maybe if I not back, you lead practice. Okay?”
“Me?” she squeaked.
“Sure! Go through to zhuǎn shēn piě shēn chuí, twice maybe, but don’t make others stay if not want, okay?”
“Yes! I will!” Myun made the little fist-pumping gesture that was an eager cheer with both paws, then scurried back to her table to share the news. The corners of Xiù’s mouth rose in a close-lipped grin: Gaoian cubs were so ridiculously cute. Myun was a hard worker, too – more dedicated to her martial arts than Xiù had ever been – and she had no worries that the cub could handle the practice group, which had ballooned to nearly a dozen curious and eager cubs of both genders.
With that, Ayma gestured to Regaari and he lead the pair of them out of the meal hall. Xiù noticed a couple of the Mothers and a number of the Sisters following the tall male with their eyes as they left. Gaoian males spent so much time and energy trying to gain the notice of females that those who played aloof or hard-to-get actually got a lot of attention. Xiù just assumed he was being professional.
The “landing pad” wasn’t far from the meal hall, and a small shuttle sat waiting for them, looking for all the world like a futuristic, gull-doored minivan. The two females sat themselves in the back while Regaari took the pilot’s seat, and soon the vehicle was in the air, humming quietly with whatever strange technologies let it float through the air.
Xiù watched the landscape of Gao zip past below them. After being brought to the commune, she’d only left once – again, to meet with the Mother-Supreme in the capital city – and the alien world was still new and amazing to her. They passed over what was likely farmland, and then what seemed to be suburbs, and what looked to be a different commune of females, judging from the layout; they were too high for Xiù to make out details, and she resolved to ask Ayma when they returned.
Ayma was quiet, letting their alien visitor marvel at the sights to be seen out the shuttle’s windows. After what Xiù guessed to be close to an hour, the capital city of Gao rose into view. The city – named Lavmuy, apparently, but everyone just called it “the City” – was a huge arrangement of towering spires that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Star Wars movie, glittering with lightweight but strong crystal and futuristic metals. Near the center was the spaceport, and ships could be seen rising or falling slowly toward it, ranging from darting Gaoian personal craft barely larger than their shuttle to enormous, lumbering beasts ten times the size of the American aircraft carrier which had once visited Victoria.
The Clan Hall, or center of government for the planet, was located not far from the spaceport. The building was relatively squat compared to those around it, in part due to its age. A few landing pads were arranged like leaves here and there along its length, and their shuttle descended towards one near the very top. A few Gaoians waited patiently along the walkway leading into the building. Judging from the blue-green colours one of them wore – the colour of the Gao sky – Mother-Supreme Giymuy was present, which meant the others were her attendants.
Xiù smoothed out her own red overalls nervously. All Gaoians wore overalls as their daily clothing, though personal tastes would add patterns, or extra pockets, or other customizations. Xiù had been provided a number of her own, tailored for her longer legs, and because she didn’t have fur the Mothers had put their heads together and effectively invented the shirt. A number had been made and given to her, in varying colours. They were loose and comfortable, almost like robes. She liked them, though she had to be careful about matching her colours in order to not feel like she was cosplaying the Mario Brothers.
The shuttle bumped slightly as Regaari set it down and the safeties on the doors released. Ayma and Xiù hopped out, standing together as Giymuy and her assistants approached them. Regaari took up a spot next to Ayma, and both ducked their heads toward the Mother-Supreme, while Xiù bowed to the elder Gaoian.
“Mother Ayma, Sister Shoo, it is good to see you,” Giymuy said. She turned to Regaari. “You were very prompt, Officer Regaari. Thank you.”
“Of course, Mother-Supreme. If I may be excused?”
“Of course. I will send a message when I need you again.”
The male ducked his head again, turning to repeat the gesture to Ayma and Xiù. Then he turned, entering the building via the walkway. The eyes of the majority of Giymuy’s assistants followed him.
The Mother-Supreme turned to Xiù, noting the way the human observed the other females. Her muzzle was set in the way that indicated amusement. “You are wondering if he is a particularly handsome Gaoian male. The answer is very much yes.”
Xiù almost burst into laughter, especially as the younger females – including Ayma – looked embarrassed. “That explains much,” she replied.
“Indeed. Too bad I am too old,” Giymuy remarked, drawing a shocked widening of the eyes from her retinue. “Come, walk with me.”
Xiù obediently fell in beside the elder as she lead the way into the building. Inside the Clan Hall was broad, rose-coloured hallways with dark, wooden rounded ceilings, dotted here and there with flowers and grasses set in long planters along the walls. Xiù would almost think she was inside a hobbit hole, except for the occasional “painting” mounted on the walls, which were actually digital three-dimensional representations of various places around Gao, including from high in the sky and from space. The Gaoians seemed to like a more “natural” decor… their buildings actually seemed less futuristic than Trig’s prison, but Xiù knew the miracles were there, hidden underneath.
Ayma and the assistants – Xiù still didn’t know what the half-dozen females actually did – had fallen in behind them as Giymuy lead them through the halls. The lone human glanced sideways at Giymuy. “You need me for meeting?” she asked.
“Yes,” the elder replied. “Though not with me. A representative from the Interspecies Dominion is here, and he has asked to speak with you.”
“The Dominion?” They were the interstellar group that Gao was thinking of joining, weren’t they? The organization that knew where Earth was? Xiù felt hope flare inside her.
They had moved into a very wide, tall hallway that looked to stretch the entire length of the building. More Gaoians, most male, were walking past, and they all ducked their heads in respect to the Mother-Supreme. Wide doors made of wood or some similar alien material, nearly six metres tall, were set here and there along the hallway. Giymuy came to a stop in front of one pair of doors, turning to Xiù.
“Yes. His name is Furfeg, and he is Guvnuragnaguvendrugun. He has asked to speak to you alone. They are a large species, but they are plant-eaters, and friendly… you need not be afraid of him.” The elder Gaoian laid a paw on Xiù’s arm. “I do not know what he wants to speak to you about, but I have hopes that he intends to help you. Do not agree to anything that makes you uncomfortable. If you are unsure, call for me.”
“We’ll wait here,” Ayma promised.
Xiù wanted to hug the Mother-Supreme, but resisted. “I will. Thank you.” At Giymuy’s nod, she turned to the door and touched the sensor bar that stretched from the level of her waist to a scant metre from the top of the door. The door swung inward obediently without even the creak of hinges, and sensing her movement, closed immediately after she stepped through.
The room was huge and open, and the light from Gao’s sun shone through the crystal windows that lined the upper part of the ceiling. A circle in the floor showed where a table could rise up out of the floor, surrounded by smaller circles that showed the locations of chairs that could do the same, adjusting their heights and shapes based on the species trying to use them. Xiù had marvelled at them the last time she was in the capital… after she’d been “confirmed” as part of the Clan of Females, but politely asked to come meet the other Clan leaders simply to smooth over any tension because of it.