Waiting for the Sun

By Alyx Shaw

"RARF!"
"Noooo..." I said patiently. "Not 'rarf', it's a ball. Can

you say 'ball'?"

"ARF! ARF ARF RARARARF! ARF!"
I sighed. "This is pointless."
The Faylan shook his head while blowing a

raspberry. I looked at Tiff, who was lounging on a
Romanesque couch under a simple shelter of woven
branches, reading.

"So what is this thing?" I asked, referring to the little

red humanoid before me.

A Torquere Press Sip - 1

"You know what it is, Sebastian. It's a Faylan."
"But what is it other than a Faylan?"
"A right pain in the ass," said Tiff dryly.
"RARF!"
I looked at the pretty reddish creature. If you took an

Olympic gymnast and crossed him with a greyhound,
you'd get a Faylan. They're beautiful little beings, but
they make me crazy, and have done so since I arrived on
Sferkkaa. No one seems to have any idea what they are,
and what really makes me insane is no one much seems
to care. It's a Faylan. Well that's not good enough for
me; I'm a natural scientist, I want to know what it is
related to and how it fits in to the eco system. But I'm
already boned right from the start because they're not
native to Sferkkaa, and don't seem to fit into any
category of which I can think. They're little
hermaphroditic barking boneheads obsessed with small
flying things, have a voice that can cut glass, and come
in two varieties: arboreal and not arboreal. I refer to
them as 'he' because that's the most obvious gender of
the two, but even that piece of information is not
technically correct as there is a second fully functional
set of parts that only becomes evident when the creature
is pregnant. And at the end of the day, with all my years
of training, all I can say is, "Yes, it's a Faylan."

"ARF ARF!"
"Stop that."
"RARARARARF!!! RARF!"
If Hell had Pekinese, they would be Faylans.
"Leave the poor creature alone, Sebastian."
"But I want to know what it IS!"
"It's a Faylan," said Tiff, his tone implying I am a

complete knob.

"Yes I know it's a Faylan, but what is it precisely?"

A Torquere Press Sip - 2

"Off hand I'd say about four feet tall when standing

erect, arboreal, and probably in heat, which is likely the
only reason he's putting up with your persistent attempts
to teach him to speak."

I looked at Tiff. "They have a heat cycle?"
"They do when the outside temperature and humidity

is right."

"Well there, my life hasn't been a complete waste; I

learned they go into heat."

"RARF!"
I gazed at the pretty red creature with the little foxy

face. He gazed back at me, exhibiting no 'heat'
behaviour that I could see. No trilling, rubbing, flirting,
no enticement of any kind.

"So why isn't he coming on to me?"
Tiff flipped the page of his book. "Because he doesn't

know where you fit into the grand scheme of things,
either. Faylans have a very carefully structured pack life.
He doesn't know if he ranks high enough to mate with
you. For that matter he's not about to have sex with you
if you don't rank high enough to have him." Tiff closed
his book and gave me a thoughtful look. "You know,
Sebastian, if you really must learn about them, I have a
distant cousin who lives not far from here; he has a pack
of about forty. Frankly, if there is anything he does not
know about Faylans, then it is not worth knowing."

"The nut case, right?"
"That would be him." Tiff smiled.
"I thought Draephus lived up north?"
Tiff smiled. "He does, but he comes down to make

sure his Faylans are all right. So shall we go?"

"Yeah, why not? How often do I get to learn about a

new species from a crazy man?"

"Faylans are not new, my love."
"They are to me."

A Torquere Press Sip - 3

"They're not new to you either; they've been in the

trees the entire time you've been here."

"RARF!"
I looked at the Faylan I had been trying to teach to

speak. "You just have to take his side, don't you?"

"Hrrrph."
"To you too."
I tossed the ball to the Faylan. He watched it go up,

then down, then roll to a halt. He then gave me a look
that implied I was some sort of moron before leaping
roughly twenty feet straight up to catch hold of a branch
and pull himself onto it.

"I could do that," I said, staring at the little red form.

"I just don't want to right now."

"Of course, darling."
I walked over to Tiff and lay down beside him on the

broad lounging couch. It had been eight years since I
had moved here, and I still couldn't speak more than a
few simple sentences of Sferkkaan, much as I would
have liked to. Believe it or not, that didn't make me
dumb. Sferkkaan vocalizations were many and varied,
and they could reach pitches a human voice is simply
not capable of producing. It's part of why music was so
universally important to all the cultures on this planet. I
could speak Sferkkaan if I were capable of producing
their range of vocalizations. I was just lucky they could
do English with little to no effort.

I frequently heard how dull my language is.
Another thing I wanted to do was ravish Tiff to

within an inch of his little alien life, but it was the height
of the Sferkkaan summer, which was an awful lot like
living in the bathroom with the shower running full blast
spewing nothing but boiling water. The air was hot and
wet, and everything in the area was happy but me. I
trailed my hand down Tiff's chest, my fingers wandering

A Torquere Press Sip - 4

over the damp cloth of his uniform shirt. His black hair
was stuck like wet black snakes to the pillow, and the
lenses of his shades sparkled with droplets of water. I
picked the glasses off and set them aside so I could see
his beautiful green eyes, and kissed him.

"I really want to do unspeakable things to you," I

said.

"I'm not stopping you."
"It's too hot and wet."
"We could go make love in the swamp."
"Yeah, but I hate the way the frogs all line up and

stare."

"They are frogs, my love; they are not staring at us."
"They are. In fact, I'm sure they are offering

commentary."

Tiff set aside his book and rolled onto his side so he

could face me. Beautiful little Tiff. I could stare at him
forever. Beautiful, lovely, delectable…

Something landed on the couch with a thud. I turned

to look at the cat-sized arachnid, all black and gold and
hairy. Ah yes, the Touskanian Cave Spider, known for
its preference for fruit rather than insects, its ability to
mimic words, and its lousy timing.

"Do you mind?" I asked it.
With perfect clarity, the spider said, "Bite me."
I raised one eyebrow. "Who taught you to say that?"
Tiff laughed. "I rather suspect it was Shahira."
"Great. You'd think an Imperial Bird of Prey would

have better things to do."

"Well he is retired."
"You'd still think a royal warrior from an ancient

bloodline would have better things to do with his golden
years than teach rude come-backs to the local
arachnids." I nudged the enormous spider on its way.
"Where is Tall, Beautiful and Arrogant, anyway?"

A Torquere Press Sip - 5

"Visiting his tall, beautiful and arrogant friends."
Oh, that sounded good. I ran my hand along Tiff's

side. "And all our other base-mates?"

He blinked beautiful big green eyes at me. "Off

getting supplies. They will be gone all day."

"So it's just you and me." I nipped his neck.

"Whatever shall we do?"

"RARF!"
I glanced in the direction of the noise. The spider was

now sitting on the table and barking like a Faylan.

"Let's go inside," I suggested.
"But then I'd have to move," said Tiff. "And it's

hotter inside."

He had a point. At least out here in the misting rain

we were cooler. I began picking at the front of his
uniform shirt.

"Well, it would be wrong of me to make you move,"

I said.

I slowly undressed him. It wasn't especially easy;

damp clothing makes for a charming visual image but it
tends to cling to the skin. Still, what I found beneath
those layers and folds of wet fabric was well worth the
hunt. Tiff had a body that made me wish I could sculpt.
He's all lean muscle, which was what I like. I never
found huge muscles attractive. I much preferred 'boa' to
'beefcake'. And believe me, Tiff can sit on a branch and
entice me to taste his fruit any time he likes.

He gleamed in the shadowed sunlight, pale silver

slicked with mercury, the light following the lines of his
body, as did my tongue. I tasted him all over, my hands
wandering over each line and curve. Funny how after all
this time I still couldn't wait to touch him, and each time
was as good as the first. He's all soft compliance in bed,
my Tiff. Probably because he could kill me in one swift
motion. It was a bit daunting, making love to a man you

A Torquere Press Sip - 6

knew had personally killed at least thirty people in hand-
to-hand combat. He's a warrior, a weapon of flesh and
bone. He could snap my neck without a thought and
there's nothing I could do to defend myself. But all I
have to do is touch him and he melts. His eyes glaze
over and close, and he opens himself up to me like a
demure concubine giving his master his due. I don't
know why he lets me have him. But I'm damned glad he
does. I settled over him and pushed myself deep into his
perfect, gleaming body, and we began to make love in
the misting rain.

Shahira stepped out of the woods like some great

lethal bird, almost seven feet tall and clad in black,
scarlet and gold. He paused briefly to pick something off
his coat, and cast me a disdainful look that let me know
just precisely what he thought about some meager Earth
scientist fucking one of His Imperial Majesty's most
decorated veterans.

"Tiff, when you're done with the monkey we really

do need to address the situation with the radio; it's just
not working."

He then strutted away, fourteen hundred years' worth

of breeding and bloodlines, death crafted into art and
made flesh to guard the royal family. What I wouldn't
give to just once see him break an ankle.

"Sebastian?" said Tiff quietly.
"Hmm?"
"You stopped."
"Oh. Sorry."

***

The only way to live on Sferkkaa and not know who

Draephus and his friends are is to be born deaf and blind
and live your entire life in a cave. They are, quite

A Torquere Press Sip - 7

frankly, the biggest thing on the planet, war heroes as
well as musicians, making them almost god-like on a
planet that venerates both. Out of all of Draephus'
esteemed companions, I've only met one – his lover
Raski. He's like a Chihuahua on speed. He makes me
nervous and all I have to do is hear his name. He showed
up here at the base once because he used to be a pilot
stationed here. I like Raski, I do, but it's exhausting
being around him. I don't know what he's like at home,
but here, so close to the place where he was once injured
so badly that he died and doctors had to drag him
screaming back to life, he's an absolute hyper wreck. I
can't be around him because he gives me an anxiety
attack, and he hates me because I once scared the crap
out of him.

In all fairness, Raski is beautiful. He's honestly one of

the most gorgeous men I have ever seen. He's South
Continental, so he has that striking black skin, and I do
mean black. No shades of brown at all to warm it. Just
hematite black layered over slate to form a color that
looks like you could put your hand in it. His hair is
black, too, gleaming silvery black, hanging in a long
waterfall down his back. And that was how I first saw
him: from the back, wearing his uniform, talking to Tiff.

"Oh Sebastian! There you are! I'd like you to meet

Raski. He used to be stationed here."

So there I am, all pleased to have a chance to show

off my fine Sferkkaan manners that I just learned, and
Raski turns around and he's got these FREAKY BLUE
EYES THAT GLOW IN THE LOW LIGHT!!
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

I have since learned that the pale blue eyes are a

logical adaptation to life in a jungle that is really quite
dark. The human eye lens is smooth and… well… lens-
like. The lens of the South Continent Sferkkaan is

A Torquere Press Sip - 8

actually made up of tens of thousands little reflective
surfaces that catch the light, refract and re-reflect it, and
enable them to see better in the dark. Pale blue reflects
light, whereas dark lenses would absorb the light. What
this all boils down to is, stick Raski Jervyas in a dark
room and his eyes will glow. Yay. Thanks for the
warning, I almost crapped myself. So Raski went one
way, I went another, both of us screaming for entirely
different reasons, and there you go. One of the heroes on
the planet personally hates me. So why do I care if Raski
hates me? Well, that would be because Tiff's cousin
Draephus is in love with Raski, and if there is a case of
free-roaming Delayed Shock Syndrome on the planet,
it's him. So Raski hates me, Draephus is insane, and
we're going to visit them.

To use a popular North Continent teen expression:

Grim. Totally grim.

"Why did I let you talk me into this?" I asked as we

hiked along a path that, in two months, would be under
water.

"I thought you wanted to learn about Faylans," said

Tiff.

"I do but I don't want to end up feeding them."
"Draephus is a sweetheart. He wouldn't hurt anyone.

He's just a little tightly wound."

I thought about the time I saw Draephus on the

Sferkkaan version of a television. "So that time you and
I were watching him on the Visual and he took a flying
leap at a man's throat was just play."

Tiff laughed. "Sebastian, the man was claiming to

have been at a battle Draephus personally survived. Old
warriors tend to take exception to that sort of thing."

"All right, I can see his point," I said. "He's just a bit

aggressive for my liking."

"He's a darling. You'll love him."

A Torquere Press Sip - 9

Famous last words.
Draephus' shack was not far from the base, but it still

took a long time to cut your way through the jungle and
reach it. In our case it was two hours, and the last thirty
minutes of it was accompanied by Faylans screaming
back and forth. Jungle security; nothing approaches that
Draephus doesn't know about. All around were invisible
sentinels, hiding in the trees, sounding warnings to one
another. I hated that noise; it's a hellish sound, rising and
falling like the tormented cries of Indian spirits echoing
in a tomb. I had nightmares about that sound.

We reached the shack, stepping out of the dense

jungle growth into a small clearing, and the moment I
walked out of the bush, the first thing I saw was a tall,
rangy figure in a long coat that may have at one time
been white or pale grey. He was leaning over the railing
with the barrel of the most insanely large rifle I had ever
seen pointed straight at my head. It was at least six feet
long, lean and black, and the barrel had to be over an
inch in diameter. It looked vaguely like a cross between
a rifle and a rocket launcher. I froze in cold terror, which
is quite a feat in a steaming jungle. Tiff was oblivious.
He just waved and said something, and Draephus
lowered the weapon. As he was setting it aside, I took
hold of Tiff's arm.

"What is that thing?"
"It's my cousin."
I rolled my eyes. "The thing he was holding."
"Oh! That is a long-muzzled night stalker gun.

Draephus has a few. He's very good with them. They're
not terribly subtle but they do the job they were
designed for."

"And what is that?" I asked.

A Torquere Press Sip - 10

Tiff gestured at something I had yet to notice.

"Killing night stalkers," he said simply, and walked
toward the shack to greet Draephus.

I looking in the direction he had indicated, and felt

my eyes grow large at the sight of the rotting remains of
an enormous machine. It looked at first like a gigantic
wolf spider; in fact, it lay rather like one, on its back,
legs curled, hydraulics and wires exposed as small
jungle creatures picked the carcass clean of anything
useable or shiny.

I slowly approached it, walking over to the dead

thing, reaching out to touch it. The machine lay where it
had fallen years ago, three enormous holes blown
through it. In what would be the thorax was a cockpit. I
had heard of night stalkers, but until now I hadn't
realized how terrifying they must have been. Spiders are
renowned for getting into places people would prefer
they didn't, and that was what the machine was designed
for: infiltrating underground bases. The night stalker
would creep through the jungle, delicate and highly
sophisticated sensors listening for the sound of a human
heart beating in terror, scenting the fear of its victims. It
would then either release toxic gasses that would kill
everything in a three mile radius, or simply hunker down
and wait for reinforcements. It was a monster in every
sense of the word, and I couldn't help but be glad it was
dead.

"Sebastian!"
I turned in the direction of Tiff's voice, and saw that

he was motioning me to come to him. My immediate
reaction was to look up, because almost every time he
calls me it's because the sky is about to explode.

"It's not raining," I said.
Permit me to digress here a moment. Actually, it was

raining. The rain never stops, but after you have lived

A Torquere Press Sip - 11

here eight years you begin to start thinking in the
Sferkkaan definitions of raining. Allow me to explain
the variances:

Not raining/sunny = High cloud cover, fine misting

rain.
Damp = Slightly denser cloud cover, light rain, some
fog.
A bit wet = Vancouver in January.
Raining = Black skies, rain hammering down,
occasional mud slides.
Storming a little = You round up the animals, I'll start
building the ark.
We should probably stay in = Was that ocean there
when we went to bed?

"Just come over here."
I did, crossing the clearing through the low plants and

grasses and going onto the small porch. I had to walk
past Draephus to reach Tiff, and I have to say it was not
a comfortable feeling. Draephus was a very big guy,
well over six feet, and he had the gun in one hand and a
cigarette in the other, a pair of shades on his face. When
I first came to Sferkkaa I didn't understand why
everyone wore sunglasses on a sunless world, but I do
now. On days when the cloud cover is high and the
ground is steaming, the air takes on a strange over-bright
glare. I'm not sure what creates it, but it can definitely
cause something very similar to snow-blindness. It
doesn't bother me too badly, but for delicate Sferkkaan
eyes used to dim light, it can be damned painful.

"What are we waiting for?" I asked.
Draephus was standing just to my right, looking up at

the sky. "The sun."

He had my full attention.
"The sun? I thought it never shone here!"

A Torquere Press Sip - 12

"It only does once every century or so," said

Draephus. "I've never seen it. But they have." He
pointed into the jungle at things I could not see. "Fayla
is a sunlit planet. And they know when it is coming.
Watch."

I did, my eyes searching the dark green foliage, until

at last I saw something move. A lean red body went up a
tree, heading for the highest point it could reach and
sitting there. This was a large Faylan, and he had a
heavy collar around his neck, decorated with hematite.

"That's Wrath," said Draephus. "He's an alpha. He

lets everybody else know if it's clear. There's his little
mate, Bird."

I watched the little form flit through the branches of

the tree, reaching the limb where Wrath was perched.

"He's cute," I said.
"He's a little monster," said Draephus. He showed me

a forearm wrapped with bloody bandages. "He's what
we call a bad breeder. The moment he gets pregnant he
picks fights with anything and everything, then he ends
up miscarrying because all he does is fight. He's too
territorial. It's a bad trait, and it's causing trouble."

"Can you do anything about it?" I asked.
"Well I am, as far as they are concerned, the head of

the pack. They do what I say. I'm waiting for his next
heat cycle, then I'll go out and put him in his place. If
the pack leader takes exception to a member of the pack
who is in a receptive state, then others take that as a sign
there is something not right and they shouldn't breed
with him. As far as they're concerned I can mate with
anybody I want to." Draephus smiled faintly. "I… prefer
not to."

"Get any offers?" I asked, tremendously amused by

all this.

A Torquere Press Sip - 13

"Daily. Especially at this time of year. Here's my

unrequited love now." He pointed out a small Faylan
creeping toward us, moving on all fours along the
railing, approaching Draephus and crawling into his
arms. He was very little, with a streak of black in his
hair. Draephus held the little creature, a faint smile on
his face. "This is Theyrie. That means 'streak' in case
you're wondering. The others don't like him because he's
too small and he's a funny colour. You do see black
occasionally in the arboreal Faylans, but it's rare. I'm
going to take him north with me when I go. I've got
another arboreal at home who will adore him, and he
won't get picked on."

I reached out to touch him, but the small Faylan gave

me a strange look, and he began rolling his eyes back in
his head.

"Careful," said Draephus. "He'll bite, and those teeth

go through flesh like knives."

I withdrew my hand, then once more looked toward

Wrath and Bird. More Faylans had joined them,
spreading out in the yard, and the clearing was filling
fast. The Faylans were seated in the deep grass,
swaying, their faces pointed toward the sky.

"Why are they swaying?" I asked.
"Sun worship."
My heard turned so fast I heard my neck crack. I

looked at Draephus in astonishment.

"Sun worship? Do you mean as in they enjoy the sun

or…?"

"I mean as in sun worship. Watch them. They line up

in ranks, see? They do this on days when the cloud
cover is at its thinnest. New mothers there with the
babies, the old warriors there, elders in the middle…."

I was astounded. "So they're not animals."

A Torquere Press Sip - 14

"No," said Draephus. "They're Faylans. People

always expect intelligent life to look and act like us, and
if it doesn't then we say it isn't human and we treat it like
a lower life form. These guys are on our branch of the
life tree. I'm not sure where they fit in, exactly. I'm
thinking they may have something in common with the
lemurs you have on Earth. But simple as they may be,
they're definitely not animals."

Theyrie suddenly leapt out of Draephus' arms and

made his way to the edge of the pack, taking a place
near the young adults. Then suddenly the entire pack of
forty froze into place and stared up.

"Here it comes," said Draephus.
I'm not sure what I was expecting. A gradual opening

of the clouds, perhaps, but no, it was as if the hand of
some god waved, and the clouds opened, swirling away
and leaving nothing but clear blue with a ball of purest
molten gold in the middle. It had been so long since I
had seen it. I didn't even realize I was crying.

I stepped off the porch and walked over to the pack,

taking a place near the back beside Theyrie, seating
myself on the wet grass and looking up. It was so warm
on my face, and the entire clearing lit up with a thousand
colors I hadn't seen when I first arrived. The drops of
rain were suddenly blazing diamonds, and every hue and
nuance of the jungle flowers showed up in painfully
vibrant detail.

It was all so damned beautiful.
For a full hour the Sferkkaan sun shone, and for a full

hour I sat in it, rejoicing in its presence. Gradually the
clouds came and hid it away, putting the golden toy of
the gods back in the box for another century. The
Faylans went back to their normal business. Theyrie
bounded over to Draephus, allowing himself to be

A Torquere Press Sip - 15

carried inside, and I walked onto the porch, where Tiff
was waiting for me.

"Did you know the sun was going to shine today?" I

asked, putting my arms around his solid little body.

"No," he said. "I honestly didn't. But I'm glad it did,

and you enjoyed it."

I kissed him. "I loved it. This place is so beautiful, I

wouldn't leave if I could."

He smiled, and we turned and walked into the cabin.

It was pitch black inside, my eyes still adjusting to the
dim lighting. There was a man in front of me, but I
could only vaguely make out his shape. Then he turned
toward me and there were those DAMNED FREAKY
GLOWING BLUE EYES! AUGH!

I screamed. Raski screamed. Raski ran to Draephus

for protection, and Theyrie cleared the entire room
including the kitchen table in a single bound and sank
his teeth into my face. It took fifty-one stitches to close
the wounds.

I have decided to leave the Faylan research to

Draephus and just stick with frogs.

End.

If you liked this book you might like: A Strange

Place in Time, The Thunder-Horse, Road trip, A
Christmas for Vice, Sleep Walk With me, and Life Out
There.

A Torquere Press Sip - 16

Waiting for the Sun

Copyright © 2011 by Alyx Shaw

All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used
or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written
permission except in case of brief quotations embodied
in critical articles or reviews. For information address
Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX
78680

Printed in the United States of America.

Torquere Press, Inc.: Sips electronic edition / April 2011

Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press,
Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680

A Torquere Press Sip - 17