Fiction: Xenotype

A kidnapped alien scientist and a down-and-out telepath find love. In a tank.

Near-future sci-fi tentacle porn romance. If that doesn’t make you want to read this, then…you probably shouldn’t. If it does, have fun!


Xenotype

Ven woke as the overhead lights flickered to life. He feigned sleep. His only movement came from the faint currents in the liquid that filled his tank. Two humans entered the building. The taller one was called Dr. Ingram. The other was a stranger.

Their footsteps echoed off rusted metal walls. Ven could feel the vibrations in the liquid that surrounded him, just palpable over the static roar of the ocean outside. He eased himself into the stranger’s mind to use her eyes and ears. He had learned that Ingram’s mind was not a pleasant place to be.

“This is it?” the stranger said, with a gesture at Ven. “You called me back from Luna Station for this?”

“Nobody made you come, Staite.”

“Do you have papers for this thing? Have you had it xenotyped? If you’ve dragged me into something shady again – you know it’s hard enough for me to get funding as it is.”

“Always a tough audience.” Ingram grinned, or at least displayed her teeth. “What if I said this creature was capable of telepathic communication? Maybe then you’d be glad you were my first call?”

Staite gave Ven a sharp look and then gave Ingram a sharper one. “Potentially interesting, but I need my subjects to be capable of communication on a higher level than ‘yummy school of fish, turn right at the next reef.’ ”

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