Emily Morrison

The station was abuzz with general commotion as the crude-looking human ship bearing the promised militant captain landed. Pramüs Iris waited patiently as the ship settled in its docking bay and various Humans and Mantodeans moved to receive its passengers and cargo. She pressed the tips of her eight fingers together and folded all four of her arms into a praying gesture to hide her tibia and femur spikes that so unnerved the humans. 

Iris felt a quiet unease in the back of her mind. She was aware their DNA was compatible; it had already been proven with multiple couplings. But most of the offspring had not survived. The mothers were careless about which genes to mix with theirs, resulting in the creation of inferior mutations rather than stronger, improved Mantodea. It was a delicate balance, selecting which genes to incorporate and which to discard.

The station was decorated in Summer colours of reds, purples and oranges in celebration of the mating season. It was one of the many cultural and physiological differences between Humans and Mantodea. They thought it an archaic and strange tradition, whereas the Mantodea thought it barbaric and inconvenient to mate without method at whim. Still, they flocked by the masses to witness and occasionally participate in the Summer ritual and had not turned down the Prima Maenüs’ invitation.

Humans descended from the ship with heavy, lumbering limbs. Pramüs Iris often wondered how they did not leave more of an impression on the ground wherever they trod. She did not see exactly what their composition could gift that would benefit the Mantodea. But she trusted her Prima Maenüs.

Captain Andrews approached dressed in what Iris had come to realise was their military uniform reserved for the best occasions. Why they chose to hide so much of their flesh in rigid, dull materials was simply one more curiosity Iris would never understand.

Andrews saluted and said, ‘Captain Andrews, pleasure to make your acquaintance.’ He put his hand back down to his side, flattening it against his trousers. His eyes roamed over her body, pausing only briefly at her four arms and pistachio skin.

Iris was not offended when he did not offer his hand to her as so many humans automatically did before realising Mantodean hands were not the same fleshy, five-fingered appendages they were used to. As a way of greeting, Iris inclined her head, tucking her arms in close to her abdomen. ‘Captain Andrews, I hope your flight was smooth and swift. I am Pramüs Iris. I will escort you to the Prima Maenüs.’

Andrews smiled and said, ‘Lead the way. I’m eager to meet your queen.’

Again Iris inclined her head before turning away from the station to lead the captain to the great pyramid temple where Prima Maenüs remained for the duration of the mating season each year. Captain Andrews followed with almost giddy anticipation in his step. His eyes lingered on the way her body swayed as she walked almost like she was weightless.

Along their route to the temple, more elaborate adornments of coloured silks, ribbons, flower garlands and lanterns decorated the city for the mating season. Somewhere in the city flutes and wind instruments were played to represent the summer breeze and various creatures that came alive in the warmer weather. The usual greens, yellows and pinks that Mantodeans wore throughout the year were also replaced with the warmer mating colours. Iris herself wore a loose gown of the three colours that appeared to swirl around her body and flow with each movement as they walked.

Andrews took note of this by saying, ‘So, this seems like a big event for your people. Is it always like this, or have you amped it up for our benefit?’

‘You are asking if any of this is an artificial performance to impress you and your people in the hopes it will result in a profitable vacation industry. Any spectacle we make is for our benefit, not yours Captain Andrews. This is a tradition that extends far longer than your species’ existence let alone presence. Your species should feel honoured to take part.’

A Mantodean child, known as a nymph, ran past twirling a ribbon and shouting that a new ootheca had been laid. The child is missing an arm and has a sickly mottling to its exoskeleton, a survivor of one of the more unforgiving diseases plaguing the planet. Iris stares at the disfigurement and silently prays for the child’s swift and painless death. The nymph captures Andrews’ attention momentarily before he returns to the conversation at hand. ‘Uh, yes. We are. From my understanding, your queen doesn’t partner up very often. Before the friendship treaty, I heard she hadn’t coupled with a male in over ten mating seasons. We must have done something to impress her.’

‘It is true Prima Maenüs has not seen the need for a male’s genetic input for some time. But, with the arrival of your people and our ensuing friendship came diseases we had not been exposed to. We have lost many mothers in recent years because of this. Last season was the worst for our people after one of your viruses entered several birthing chambers and killed many mothers and ooths. Prima Maenüs seeks to correct this through coupling. Each year she lays her ootheca though to replenish our numbers. This season, she will strengthen it.’

Andrews nodded, rubbing his square jaw with a frown. ‘We’ve also experienced some difficulties with battling viruses from exposure to other planets and new species. For now, quarantine seems to be the only effective method of reducing the spread to Earth. But our scientists and doctors are working on it. We’re confident that their findings could help your people as well.’

The idea of immunisation was an alien one to Iris. She had been educated about its purpose and methods, yet it was still a foreign concept to her. ‘We have our own ways of strengthening our species that work perfectly well,’ she told him.

Andrews’s eyes moved from one building to the next and took in every Mantodean they walked by as though it was his first time on an alien world. Iris considered this and thought perhaps it was. The human government may have decided not to risk sending someone who may have been contaminated off-world. From her small knowledge of the man, she also knew he’d recently been promoted to Captain, though there was no record of why that she could find.

That unease in the back of her mind reared its head momentarily as Iris considered her Prima Maenüs’ attempts to couple previously and failed. She was hopeful that the human proverb of luck in threes was indeed true.

‘I don’t fully understand it—I’m not a scientist, obviously. But your species has a way of taking certain genes from mates and incorporating them with your own into your young. Or something along those lines, yes?’ Andrews asked.

A passing couple saw Pramüs Iris and inclined their heads respectfully to her.

‘For our people, it is a great honour to be chosen as a mate, an even greater honour should the male’s offspring prove strong as he will become her mate for the next season if she is pleased with him. The queen has only ever selected three humans with whom to mate with since our two planets became allies, you should consider yourself privileged, Captain Andrews. Your children may be the future of our people.’

‘Oh, I do. Believe me, I do. This is single-handedly the best assignment I’ve received. I have no doubt the queen will find my genes are strong. But I’m sure the queen will be more than happy to continue this arrangement in future seasons,’ he said with a confidence Iris thought unfounded.

He looked over Iris again and said, ‘And if things don’t work out with the queen I’m sure we could find a way to please your needs in other ways.’

Iris snorted quietly, ignoring his quip with the certainty that if things should not work out she would not see him ever again. As they neared the temple, an older woman, a former mother, stopped in her tracks to bow her head respectfully to Pramüs Iris. Iris inclined her head in return and the woman smiled kindly.

Andrews took note of this and said, ‘You seem pretty important around here.’

‘I am Pramüs—Second Mother. Prima Maenüs is First Mother. She is Matriarch and Mother to our people.’

Andrews chuckled slightly. ‘The way you say it sounds like Mother is a ranking of some kind that determines who’s in charge.’

‘That is exactly what it is,’ Pramüs Iris said. ‘Though not in the way you humans consider it. Mother is a status of birther, life-giver, and strengthener of the species. To give life is sacred and revered. Prima Maenüs is a duty as well as a leader.’

Andrews laughed and said the Mantodea were more alien than he thought.

Iris realised he did not understand the titles and roles of her society because they were so different to his own. She thought perhaps he was too small-minded to comprehend that they were a matriarchal people and did not have ranking or family groups like humans did. Rather, they are all children to Prima Maenüs and were raised in groups of nymphs by many adults—or none at all and were left to fend for themselves to encourage only the strongest to continue the species.

As they came closer to the temple Iris averted her eyes from a collapsed birthing chamber where many mothers had been buried alive inside. She had birthed her ootheca there in previous seasons and had very possibly been born there herself. It was one of the largest and most visited birthing chambers on the planet. It hurt her pride as much as her heart to see it in ruins after a swift spreading plague had entered it. Prima Maenüs had made many difficult decisions in the early days of the human illnesses, most of which were made out of fear with very little information or understanding of what was happening to her people. If the humans had spoken up and offered what knowledge they had on the diseases sooner, perhaps things would have been different. Perhaps many more Mothers and nymphs would still be alive.

But the humans had waited to speak and Iris believed it an intentional delay. If it weren’t for their own sudden fight with alien diseases, she was sure their silence would have spanned months or years more—when Mantodea numbers had significantly plummeted. As it was, the humans needed them more than the Mantodea needed the humans. Like their plagues, the humans spread throughout the stars of this galaxy aggressively and were unprepared for the sheer number of foreign diseases they picked up on the way. But the Mantodea were very old and had strengthened their line to all manner of genetic blemishes that made them susceptible to the diseases the humans had exposed themselves to.

The temple was a giant pyramid made of a green stone that glittered in the sun. The doors they passed through were made of gold with elaborate glass leaves dotting along the frame. As they entered the temple, they fell silent and Captain Andrews’ mouth fell open as he gazed at the splendour inside. Everything within was made from gemstones, coloured glass and gold, from the doors and ceilings to the furniture and ornaments. Iris understood the quiet awe that fell upon those who entered, despite passing through the temple as often as one might the market or their own home, it still held a humbling power over even her.

Pramüs Iris took the captain to the ritual chamber where Prima Maenüs waited. They step inside and the human is noticeably struck by the Prima Maenüs’ majesty and beauty.

Standing from a large round bed, Prima Maenüs glides more than walks toward them, swathed in the gossamer silks at the hips that were spun by native arachnids in a far-off forest on the other side of the world. One pair of arms opened wide to welcome the captain, while the other stayed poised gracefully in front of her. Her antennae, forehead and ears were painted gold, as were her breasts and stomach in the traditional fashion.

Prima Maenüs looked at Iris briefly with a smile and slight nod, indicating she was free to go. Iris took one final look at her Prima Maenüs and the human before closing the large golden doors to wait outside.

Iris stood with her back against the door, guarding them against any disturbance, but also to ensure if her Prima Maenüs needed her, she could take action quickly. She listened to the sounds within the room as she always did. It gave her no joy to do so, but this too was a part of tradition.

Captain Andrews was taking longer than the last human mate, worrying himself with pleasure when it was not necessary for the act of procreation. The Prima Maenüs did not need a lover. Males were purely a means to an end to continuing the species. Pleasure was sought elsewhere for the Prima Maenüs.

Her experiments with mating with humans were to see what biological strengths she could take from their genes and incorporate into her own species to strengthen it. She had done this with another alien species they had come in contact with. A strange beast-like species covered in fur and claws. And though their genes had only provided minimal modifications to the species, they had still contributed to the continuation of the Mantodea people and so were honoured with the title of fathers.

Pramüs Iris tried to ignore that quiet unease in the back of her mind that coupling with the humans would not end in a similar result.

The sounds of mating and Captain Andrews’ heavy breathing eventually came to an end, replaced with the sound of anguished screams.

Pramüs Iris waited until all fell silent before entering the chamber. Inside she found a bloody mess that covered the ritual bed. She remained impassive as she walked up to her Prima Maenüs on the bed. She wiped a finger in the red blood before bringing it to her lips and sucking it clean.

She enquired of her queen with a silent tilt of her head, curious at the almost instant rejection. The Prima Maenüs only rejected a male’s spermaphore if it was considered too weak. This meant the ootheca would remain infertile when laying takes place unless she finds a suitable replacement.

Prima Maenüs responded after a moment, her large eyes lingering on the carcass before her. “This one would not have strengthened my children. Better it be discarded immediately to avoid polluting its own genetic pool as well as ours.”

Captain Andrews’ head had been ripped off from the jaw. Iris watched as her Prima Maenüs proceeded to eat his tongue. She sat on the bed calmly, unconcerned by the blood and mess. She was used to it, after all, it was natural for them. It was the way. Females were superior, and she would not feel bad about a male’s death let alone a human male’s.

‘I will request another. I suspect this one was provided as a quick means of ridding themselves of him rather than with respectable intentions of a successful coupling. He was not—ideal.’

Blood mixed with the smeared golden paint over the Prima Maenüs’ body in a seductive contrast to her green skin as she delighted in the feeling of the still warm blood on her skin.

Iris had been right to doubt the viability of Andrews’ genetic material. It was of the utmost importance that they found a way to survive the new diseases those humans brought to them. More mothers were needed, and more nymphs to carry on the new genes. She could easily have prevented Captain Andrews’ entry to the temple, knowing he was destined to fail. But why deny her Prima Maenüs such a satisfying meal?

After a moment the queen invited Iris to join in the feast with her, touching her hand lovingly. “Join me, love.”

Iris crawled on all sixes closer to the Prima Maenüs where they cracked open Andrew’s skull to eat the soft brain within. “We will try again, my Prima Maenüs.”

Pramüs Iris licked the brain juice that fell from the skull as the Prima Maenüs lifted the human skull and bit greedily into the brain. Iris’ tongue moved up until their mouths came together, kissing, licking and sucking the human’s blood and flesh from each other’s mouths.

“Yes,” the Prima Maenüs said. “We will try again.”