Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories; Spy stories
"There's something peculiar about you," he said, "something very
peculiar." He leaned back in his chair and his glance swept over me.
"Suppose you cut out the leopard skin," he said, "and wear a jersey
and trousers."
I laughed to myself. He thought my bare body, my bulging muscles had
been the cause of the trouble. What a fool! Is Your Excellency
laughing too? However, I dared not disagree with him. By that time he
had had many drinks. He was looking mean. He reached over and grabbed
the lapel of my coat in his fist.
"What the hell kind of a guy are you?" he snarled at me.
My hands twitched. I wished I could have picked him up and tied him in
a four-in-hand knot around his own neck.
"Who the hell are you?" he repeated.
I yawned and stretched and got to my feet. "Not even a strong man
now," I said casually, "just a tired man."
I left the bar.
After that incident I was careful with the male principle. When the
audience left each night I turned it on very slightly--only enough to
be sure that the women would do their best to get back to see me
again.
But before I go any further in this account of my adventures, Your
Excellency, let me tell you about the women here. The greatest
difference between the Americans and ourselves is in the women. They
are extraordinary. Some of them are beautiful beyond belief. My
researches completely confirm your much-criticized hypotheses
concerning our own women. If our enemies who object so strongly to
Your Excellency's statements could be here for only one hour they
would become your devoted supporters. American women are the proof
that your theories are correct. Your famous attempt to explain some of
the incongruous and apparently ridiculous passages in our ancient
manuscripts by assuming the existence of a now-vanished female
principle is irrefutably demonstrated by these women, Your Excellency.
Here, the female principle exists, and as you predicted, most of the
women are therefore entirely different from ours. The term used in
this language is "femininity." It is a devastatingly attractive
thing--but almost impossible to explain. I will make an attempt.
Senseless, reasonless, even foolish motions of the body and the hands,
the expressions of the eyes and the mouth, the way the head is moved
and tilted are a part of it. So are unusual tones of the voice and
special ways in which things are said. Laughter, a whisper, the
direction of the glance, the fingers' pressure--these, too, are parts
of it.
There are infinitely various types of adornment which hang on the
body, fabrics in delicate or brilliant colors which cling and flow,
gleaming stones at throat and wrists. The faces are enchantingly
painted, the hair shining and arranged in numerous wonderful designs.
There is an aura of the scent of flowers and fruits.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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