Chapter 2

He opened his eyes and where he was came back to him. The Rich'ti medical bay. Then he was able to translate what he had heard: "He's awake."

"I don't think any of these readings are abnormal, they are all pretty close to his baseline." He recognized their doctor's voice.

"What happened?" he asked.

"You were knocked unconscious. There does not seem to have been any lasting damage," Urish'tal said.

"Um, I meant other than that. We were attacked, but escaped, right?"

"Yes, to put it simply."

"So how bad was it?"

"This is a scouting and courier vessel. It is quick but not designed for battle. Injuries were not heavy, so the damage should not have been. I don't get informed of all the ship status, of course."

"Of course."

"How is Sarsh'ta?"

"She will be well. She was hurt more than you, but not greatly. I'll be keeping her here for observation for until tomorrow. You will be free to leave after I run one more line of tests, if you wouldn't mind."

"Alright," he replied, reaching up and rubbing at his eyes, feeling groggy still. "What did you give me?"

"Something for pain," she explained. "Your shoulder was... out of place, and a couple of ribs are damaged. The back of your head is bruised. We have tended to the ribs, which will heal, and put your shoulder where it should be. We have mostly been monitoring your head injury, to be sure there wasn't further damage."

"I see," he nodded.

"You'll know when it fully wears off. I don't know how Human tolerance for pain compares to Rich'ti, however. Please let me know if you need further assistance with it. I do have other patients who need my assistance, however. Mordesh will continue the scans until I can return if that is alright?"

"Of course," he answered, looking at the male Rich'ti who stood next to Urish'tal. He couldn't be sure of Mordesh's age, but to Kevan he looked young and apprehensive. He only barely caught himself from trying to give the Rich'ti a reassuring smile. He attempted a head roll instead, and then winced as the bruised portion on the back of his head made itself apparent to him.

It was at about that point that he realized that his clothing had been removed. He wasn't cold, however, as the padding beneath him seemed to be warmed from beneath somehow. There were no curtains around the table he was laying on, but what looked like a thick gray holographic haze encircling the area around them. Urish'tal walked directly through it, and he heard a slight buzzing sound as she did. He suspected the barrier was designed both for privacy and to keep disease from spreading. He noticed that neither Urish'tal nor Mordesh wore any sort of mask or gloves.

"Please lie very still," Mordesh told him in a low, gruff voice.

Kevan laid still and watched as the machinery above him scanned his head very slowly. In contrast to the scans that he'd had before, this one seemed to take a much longer time and appeared to be building a three-dimensional diagram of his entire skull and brain.

He wished he had the medical background to understand what he was seeing. The image continued to pass through layers. It made several passes, and he couldn't tell if it was just repeating a cycle or if it was scanning different things each time. He didn't see anything that looked particularly odd, but he didn't know what to be looking for.

Mordesh did not say anything through the procedure, but did give him several odd looks. How weird must I look to him? he wondered. He must find the difference in body hair odd, I wonder if he thinks I've been shaved... He tried to picture what the Rich'ti would look like shaved. He couldn't really envision it.

"Okay, I have a question for you, if you don't mind," he said eventually, feeling awkward lying there naked.

"Certainly, if it is one I can answer."

"Our doctors wear nets over their hair during major medical procedures...to keep stray hairs from falling into wounds and openings. I'm assuming you have some solution of your own?"

"The table you are on emits a very mild electromagnetic field around it. It is just enough to keep such hairs and tiny particles away. For anything...invasive there are covers worn over the hands and arms of the healers. In addition, the field surrounding this work space creates a clean environment to work in."

"I see. And it also provides some privacy."

"Yes, vision is impaired through it, and sound is dampened. What we discuss in here no one else can hear. I am finished with you now," Mordesh said, and the scanning equipment receded into the ceiling.

"Where are my...," he stumbled, not having a Rich'ti word for clothes. He wondered if they even had one. "Where are my things? My coverings and the device I had."

Mordesh reached down and pressed something on the side of the table's base and a drawer popped out. Kevan got off the table and saw that his clothes and palmtop were in the drawer. He knew the palmtop was impact-resistant, but he pulled it out first and powered it on, reassuring himself that it was still intact. He had a larger backup computer with much more capacity, but it was still packed in it's padded bag for when he reached the planet. It occurred to him that he might want to upload his palmtop to it on a daily basis in the beginning while he was still learning so much information so quickly. He'd hate to lose the notes he was compiling.

Satisfied that the device had taken no damage, he set it on the table and put his clothes on. Someone had attempted to fold them, although it looked more as if someone had been practicing oragami instead. Mordesh stood there, watching, and Kevan tried to ignore his discomfort at the Rich'ti's stare and the pain in his shoulder and ribcage while he gingerly put his clothes back on. He suspected that Mordesh was most confused when Kevan put his shoes on, as the Rich'ti cocked his head curiously. It was about that point that Urish'tal returned, and she sent him away after taking a datapad from him. She looked it over before looking at Kevan.

"As far as I can tell you will heal normally," she told him. "I see no damage to your brain from the impact. The rest will heal in time. Please let me know if you have any problems. I expect that Sarsh'ta will leave the medical bay sometime tomorrow, so you will be on your own until then."

"I understand," he replied. "Thank you." He waited, expecting some sort of dismissal from the doctor, but she merely rolled her head at him and left the circle of privacy. He took his palmtop and tucked it into his pocket again before heading through the barrier himself. He felt a small electrical tingling sensation as he moved through it. On the other side he could see several other areas with similar barriers around them, as well as tables that were unoccupied. He saw Urish'tal step through one of the other barriers, busily noting something on her datapad. He made his way to the door and out into the hall. He then headed towards the access shaft that would lead him back to the level his room was on.

He hopped down the access shaft, enjoying the brief zero-G freefall. It had not taken him much to get used to it. His gravball days weren't all that far behind him, and jumping from one gravity field to another was part and parcel of the game.

With gravball there weren't zero-G zones, so that was the part that took him getting used to. Figuring out how hard to jump upwards was the only trick, and that was really just a matter of how long it took to get from level to level. All and all he thought it was a clever solution.

There were crew members bustling about with a variety of tools and instruments. He guessed they were damage control parties, and he stepped aside out of their way. Some of them gave him glares, and once he even saw teeth. Is this what it's going to be like the whole time? What portion of them really don't want me around?

He got back to his room without incident. Food had splattered about the room, and he looked about for ways to clean it. The solid bits he picked up and put back in the bowl. He ended up taking one of his washcloths to wipe up the spilled liquid. There wasn't a sink, so he left it on the desk until he could figure out what to do about it. He decided he'd ask someone about it later--when the mealtime chime happened again, he would return the bowl. He could find a place to wash out the washcloth while he was at it.

He sat down on the mat in the center and took out his palmtop, tapping a few more notes into it before putting it on the desk as well. He laid back onto the fur, noting that his shoulder and ribs were starting to ache more all the time. He considered Urish'tal's offer of more medication, but had a feeling that he might be looked down on if he actually needed it. For the moment, he could ignore the injuries. He'd suffered worse in gravball. Getting tackled in high-G was not for those with a low tolerance for pain. He remembered one instance in his early days where he had hit the high-G zone unexpectedly and fallen, only to be immediately tackled by several opponents. He'd broken a one of his legs in two places and sprained his wrist. It had put him out of the game for most of the season.

He wondered why gravball was in his thoughts so much since his arrival on the ship. He hadn't played the game itself in years, not since he graduated from his six year stint at college, getting his two degrees. When he'd gone back for his Master's degrees, he'd spent a couple years as assistant to the coach. He usually kept up with the professional games, but he'd never wanted to play pro. He'd seen what years of pro gravball had done to his dad, wreaking havoc on the man's aging body after all the torn muscles and cartilage he had endured. There had only been so much that the doctors could do to ease Kevan's father's discomfort. They had replaced so many joints in his body that in the end it was the surgeries that had killed him, as his heart gave out during a surgery on his back. To Kevan, it had seemed as if his father had spent every moment since he'd retired from gravball trying to reclaim the body he'd had before he'd played professionally. Kevan enjoyed the game, but was unwilling to put himself through that just for the adrenaline rush he had felt when playing.

He sighed, letting his thoughts drift. He wondered how he was going to fit in here. He had encountered other races before, but never one so reclusive. Most of his encounters with other races had been on neutral territory or in human space. He'd met people who'd not been in contact with a human before, but they had always been prepared to do so. Most had been friendly, like Sarsh'ta, excited to meet a human for one reason or another.

But this time he was going into their territory. An old cliché slipped across his thoughts - when in Rome... - but he knew that he had to be careful. Do I try to act as they do, or will that offend them by itself? He wanted more information on how and why they did certain things, but Sarsh'ta was unavailable, and Urish'tal was busy. It occurred to him to wonder if Trorkash would be too busy just then. He's security, so he won't be involved in repairing the ship, or helping wounded. Unless he's been injured himself, he might be available to answer some questions. It seemed risky, when he'd gotten such a cold reaction after the problem with Rek'at, but the Rich'ti had stepped in to intervene. Kevan got off the mat and headed to the intercom panel.

"Trorkash please," he asked it in Rich'ti.

"Yes," Trorkash said.

"It's Kevan Phelps. I had some questions, and wondered if maybe you'd be able to spare a few minutes for me?"

"My duty shift ends in at the next hour. Meet me in the fitness area and we can talk." The intercom panel chirped to end the conversation. Charming.

He wondered what he could do for an hour, reminding himself that their hour was about one and a half of the hours he was used to. He noticed on the intercom panel there was a number displayed. He checked the symbols on his palmpad, still struggling with their numbers even more than the rest of their writing. Eventually he was able to confirm it was a time display. It changed on him more than once while he was checking it.

That led him to find an options menu. There was no option to display in a human format, of course, but there was an alarm and timer menu. That in turn led him to decide he could afford a nap for a while. He found a series of buzzer choices, and was able to play samples. He chose one he felt confident would wake him. There were also volume options, and he adjusted the volume up. He set the timer, checking his calculations twice with the palmpad.

He settled into the rug in the center the way he might settle into a hot bath. It was luxuriously soft and deep but still supportive. Women back home would love this. He wondered what kind of animal it was from, or whether it was synthetic. Sleep came easily.

###

He dragged himself off the mat and moved to the panel to silence the buzzer. He'd given himself about a ten minute window to comb his hair and make his way to the fitness area. He slipped his palmtop back into his pocket again before leaving the room, hoping again that he wouldn't actually need it for translations. So far, he'd managed the Rich'ti language, it seemed. He had a feeling that the people around him were purposely using easier words for his benefit, however. He wasn't so sure that Trorkash would do the same.

He found the fitness area again without too much difficulty, retracing his steps from when Sarsh'ta had given the tour. There were more people in the alcoves than he'd seen previously, some viewing more holographic images, and others pouring over screens of text. In the center there was a larger holographic image that seemed to be giving some sort of news report. Several Rich'ti lounged about on mats watching. There were a few words he didn't understand, but he was able to make out that the female in the hologram was giving information on a sporting event of some kind. He started receiving stares from several of the Rich'ti, and he saw some start whispering, so he moved on quickly before he could hear more of the news report.

He pressed the panel next to the door of the fitness area, and it slid open with a soft chime, allowing him access. He moved inside and found himself in a large, open area, divided into several sections by what looked like thick glass walls. The largest of the sections appeared to have seating - mats protruded out like shelves from the sloped walls on either side of it, with steps and ladders leading up to them. One section looked somewhat like a weight training area, with a couple of Rich'ti pulling at machinery that hung from the walls and ceiling. He saw another section where areas of floor moved as treadmills. The remaining section seemed to just be a round area of padded floor, and he saw a couple of Rich'ti who appeared to be wrestling on it.

"Come with me, human."

Kevan was startled by Trorkash's voice as the Rich'ti passed next to him and headed over towards the weight training section. Kevan followed him, suddenly wishing he'd changed into workout clothes himself. Still dressed to look like a diplomat, he realized he felt entirely out of place. People in the room stopped to stare at him as they passed.

When they reached that section of the fitness area, Trorkash moved to a wall panel and tapped at it until a part of one wall opened and another piece of machinery extended out of it. He went to it and seemed to make some adjustments before beginning to exercise. He pulled himself up as if to do a chin-up, but the bar he grasped descended as he did, until he held himself up over it with his arms mostly straightened. Afterwards, he lowered himself back to the starting position, the bar moving to compensate. He did the whole process very slowly, and Kevan could see the muscles in his arms rippling through the fur.

"What did you want to ask me?" Trorkash said, as he pulled himself up again.

"There's a lot I don't know yet about your culture. I want to understand it to avoid conflicts like the one at lunch. Can you tell me why that happened? Did I do something wrong to provoke it?"

"You are new here," Trorkash said, lifting himself up again.

"So, what, are all new people treated like that, or just me?"

"I'm told that among your kind you believe that everyone is born equal. This leads your kind to feel you are entitled to things, that you are owed things by society--or the universe. Here that is not so. Here everything is earned."

"So are you saying he was questioning whether I'd earned the right to sit and eat?"

Trorkash gave him a strange look at that, and then lifted himself up very slowly. Kevan could tell that the muscles under that fur were sleek and strong. He had been keeping in shape, but he felt sure that if he tried to match Trorkash's abilities he would not be able to keep up.

"To some your very presence is threatening. They will call you out until you prove yourself to them."

"Okay, so how do I do that?"

"You ask a lot of questions, human. Doubt is a sign of weakness. Our children can learn to understand this."

"I had next to nothing for information on your culture before coming onto this ship. Your people have apparently had plenty of time to evaluate mine, however. Of course I have questions. That is not a weakness Trorkash, it is an attempt at..." Kevan trailed off, realizing suddenly that he didn't have a Rich'ti word for diplomacy. Frustrated, he jammed his hand into his pocket and pulled out the palmtop, tapping furiously at it. His frustration grew as he was unable to find what he was looking for.

"An attempt at friendship between Humans and Rich'ti," he said finally, stuffing the palmtop back into his pocket. Trorkash had stopped lifting himself and was leaning against the machine, looking at Kevan with something that seemed like amusement.

"Every Rich'ti child must learn our language and our ways, human," Trorkash said. "It is a growth that defines who they are, and how they will earn their future. So it must be with you as well."

"I am not a child," Kevan replied, angry at the tone Trorkash was taking.

"But you act as a child. You do not take your place amongst the adults, but whine and ask why instead. You will either show us that you belong amongst us, or you will take your place amongst the children and learn to grow from there."

Kevan could see that the other two Rich'ti who had also been exercising in that section of the fitness area seemed to be amused by the conversation. This is not going well at all, he thought to himself.

"Okay, fine," he said, getting frustrated, "what do I do?"

"Still you don't understand. How is it that your kind manages to not be over-run by the Brey-hahd? Do you simply pester them with questions so they stay away?" Trorkash turned and started walking away.

"Hey, we have ships and warriors of our own.--"

"Are you one of those warriors?" Trorkash paused, but did not turn back.

"Well, no. I'm more of a... No, not really."

"And yet you were the one we chose to invite," Trorkash said with a grunt. He stepped off and started walking away again.

"Where I come from it's considered rude to walk away during a conversation," he tried.

"You are not where you come from," Trorkash said, again without turning. He walked away and Kevan wavered, unsure what to try next. Trorkash reached the door and left. Kevan became aware of other Rich'ti looking at him, and he felt very uncomfortable. He looked around at the equipment, but was reluctant to just try a machine without knowing how it was supposed to be used.

He went out to the library, where he found an unused cubicle. Maybe here he would be able to find some answers. Maybe the ship's library computers would be easier to communicate with.

He settled in on the padded area at the cubicle and started tapping at the screen, figuring out how to navigate the menu. After a short while he found that he was able to access several different programs through the computer - a news program, an entertainment program, a schooling program, and what appeared to be a general encyclopedia. Most of the schooling available seemed to be for advancement of ship-related careers, and required he enter codes in order to access them. He spent most of his time perusing the encyclopedia, occasionally accessing one topic or another in the news as well.

Out of curiosity, he accessed the term "human" first, and found the following definition:

Human - a sentient, carbon-based, bipedal lifeform originating in the Obritek star system. Achieved interstellar space travel in the year of Arban'dat. Name of home world - Earth. Located in what the humans refer to as the "Milky Way" galaxy (known previously as Shiktu'nart) Colonization spanning 12 star systems at last publication, with a total of 29 Human-ruled planets. Has alliances with the Zrich, Moodra, Regala, Ordimosse and Tc'zit. Enemies include the Brey-hahd and Nostretta. Ongoing trade with the Irignu, although relations appear strained. Humans are considered hostile and deceitful. Will not make trade agreements unless seemingly in their favor. History filled with violent acts against each other and other races.

No wonder they don't want anything to do with me, if this is the first information they encounter on humans, he thought to himself as he moved to see what he could find in the news next. His search turned up several recent broadcasts, and he saw his own name in several of the summaries. He went to the oldest of the news that had his name in it first. A small holographic image of a news reporter popped out of the screen and started talking. It was a short update, mentioning that the debate over which human would be the first to meet the Rich'ti was over. From what Kevan could tell, it seemed that Sarsh'ta had been largely responsible for choosing him. It did not give reasons why, but she had apparently been challenged several times over her choice. There was a brief interview with her and the computer offered him the chance to view it. He selected it without hesitation.

"I am confident that this human will not only be able to meet our needs in communicating to the human leaders, but will also be one that can earn our respect while he is here," a small hologram of Sarsh'ta said. "He has studied other cultures, and will try to understand us. I believe he will bridge the gap between our people and show that we can have relations with other races without losing the integrity of our own."

No pressure, Kevan thought as the hologram flickered back to the reporter. So I'm not only representing humanity, but the rest of the universe too? Yeah, no pressure at all. He sighed, moving to the next report in the queue that referenced his name.

The other reports seemed mostly to focus on the selection process, although none seemed to cover much of the selection criteria. It was interesting to see so many other names in the reports. Apparently the Rich'ti news had held back very little.

He himself had not had any hint that the Rich'ti were looking for an envoy from the human race. There had not been one mention in any of the news channels--and Kevan had been fairly thorough in keeping track of the news, particularly anything of a political bent.

His first knowledge of it had come when government officials arrived unannounced to take him to a meeting that had not been on his calendar. He was whisked off to a government office where it had been explained to him. He had been selected out of a long list of candidates--a very long list. He was not asked, per se, if he wanted to go. The ramifications of not going were listed out in a far from subtle fashion.

Now there was one article with the list of names. There were eighty-seven names. Many of the names he recognized. Brief bios were available. He clicked the tab to open his, curious to what had been said about him. It listed his degrees and noted that there was no military experience. There was a brief notation that there were no perceived security risks. There were notes about the schools he had attended. It also listed his height and weight. The units didn't mean anything to him, but he noted the information in his palmpad to have a reference point for later.

He tried a search on 'Proonk Takors' for other races. It seemed there were chief advisors on many topics, including one for 'other races,' but humans were the first to be singled out so. He sighed. And for that they picked me... He couldn't decide whether he should be honored or worried.

The next person he looked for information on was Sarsh'ta. He quickly found that she was considered to be one of the three expert authorities on the human race. The other two included a male professor and another female. In one biography on her, he saw that she had studied under the professor for some time before becoming an expert herself. Sarsh'ta had written three books and several essays on the human race, usually comparing the culture to that of the Rich'ti. He saw that a couple of the essays were available to view, and was calling them up when the dinner chime interrupted his concentration.

Kevan saw that the area cleared out quickly after the chime, and he made his way back to his room at a reasonable pace. He made use of the room's facilities before grabbing up the bowl he'd come back for. He was still unsure what to do about the washcloth, so he left it on the desk. Let's not ask more questions if we can avoid it right now, he thought to himself. I hope Sarsh'ta is well again soon. He realized that he had also not been shown any sort of bathing facilities, or he could have at least taken it there to rinse it out.

He went to the mess hall somewhat apprehensively, and scanned the room for Rek'at first. He saw no sign of the engineer, but did see Trorkash sitting with some others, talking and laughing. He was looking for a space away from most of the Rich'ti when he saw Urish'tal sitting with Mordesh and a female he didn't recognize. Urish'tal waved when she saw him, in what seemed like a beckoning gesture. Relieved, he went to join them.

"Sarsh'ta asked me to be sure you didn't eat alone. She had planned on taking this meal with you, but understands she shouldn't leave the medical bay just yet." Urish'tal told him as he sat down.

"Thank you," he replied. "How is she?"

"I'm sure she will be able to leave tomorrow at some point."

"Don't those itch?" the other female suddenly asked him, tugging at his sleeve.

"What?" he asked, turning to face her. "I don't understand. Don't what itch?"

"Rayta, remember what I told you!" Urish'tal said in what sounded like a sharp tone. "Kevan, this is Rayta, another of my assistants. She's curious about your coverings, but I did warn her about pestering you with questions."

"No, questions are fine!" Kevan assured her, supressing a smile. "I don't mind answering questions."

"The only Rich'ti who wear coverings are those who go to research the very cold places." Rayta told him. "But your people wear them all the time? Is it because you have no fur?"

"Yes, mostly," he replied. "Originally we started to wear coverings to keep ourselves from the cold, and other aspects of the planet we started on. To protect ourselves, as we don't have the heavy fur you do. We have some hair," he pulled up his sleeve and showed her the hair on his arm, "but it is not enough to keep us warm or safe from small hurts, like branches of trees. Over time, we have developed clothing to also represent certain aspects of ourselves too. We choose colors and styles that reflect our personalities. And they don't itch. I am used to them and we make them out of soft fabric that doesn't itch."

"Oh," Rayta said. "So what does this covering you wear reflect about you?"

He thought for a moment about the jumpsuit he was wearing. He had a formal outfit packed for his arrival on the planet, and was suddenly shocked that he hadn't dressed more formally for his arrival here. Yesterday's arrival was, after all, his first introduction, and was broadcast throughout both realms. They wrote the damned first words I said, but nobody said anything about what to wear! On the other hand, he supposed, the Rich'ti probably wouldn't have noticed anyway.

"Actually, not much in this case. The military have different colors and markings on their...coverings so people can tell what roles they serve. Security versus medical staff, for example. Or rank, that's a big one."

"That's silly," Rayta, "can't your kind keep track of who has power?"

"Well, it makes it easier, especially for guests or people from other crews who might not know. How would a Rich'ti that's not part of your crew know who Trorkash is or what he does here? Or is someone was hurt how would they know to talk to one of you three?"

"There would be no need," Mordesh said firmly. "Someone injured would be brought to us. Any member of the crew who saw a wounded person would either direct or bring them directly. No injured Rich'ti would have to just wander the ship lost with no one helping them. Are your kind so uncaring to see someone in need and walk away?"

It was not someone hurt looking for a doctor on a ship that came to Kevan's mind, but the strangers on city streets. No, we don't really help strangers much, do we? He thought about someone lost looking for directions, the thought about someone being robbed, how often did people just help strangers? How often did people just walk away?

"No, it's not like that," he said eventually.

"It is more that some humans don't want to ask for help when they need it," Kevan explained. "As you know, some humans - though not all - are...untruthful. As a result, humans tend to be wary of people they don't know, the same way the Rich'ti are wary of humans. You are unsure of whether you can trust us. If a human needs medical assistance, for example, and sees the kind of coverings a doctor would wear in a hospital, they know that they are more likely to find the help they need."

"Not all coverings reflects a specific occupation, however," he continued. "A lot of people wear coverings that shows off their favorite color, or coverings that they feel makes them look more attractive to potential mates. Coverings can be a very integral part of our mating rituals."

"Why?" Rayta asked.

"Well, I don't know about Rich'ti mating rituals yet, so I can't make any comparisons for you," he answered, "but humans can be attracted to certain physical aspects of one another, like how muscular a person is. Certain coverings can make those physical aspects come into focus, and be more obvious to potential mates." He had been through parts of this particular conversation before, and was relieved to switch to mating rituals over human untruthfulness. He had once spent six hours explaining the human mating rituals to a Tc'zit scholar. The Tc'zit race had an appearance that looked as if someone had combined grasshoppers with iguanas, and were a-sexual. They laid their eggs and then fertilized them themselves. It had taken Kevan some time to explain the human process from beginning to end.

"You humans are very different indeed," Mordesh said. "Why not just get rid of the coverings? Then you could see all the physical aspects and make a good choice. Are physical traits the only thing you look for in a mate? Is their mental prowess not important as well so that you will have intelligent children?"

"Of course it's important," Kevan replied. "We try to choose very carefully when we choose a mate, as it is intended to be a choice for life. There are mated pairs who later find that they do not make a good match and they part ways, but in the beginning it is meant to be a permanent match."

"Ooooh," Rayta said, as if understanding. "You mean you only mate with your Oungra!"

"Oungra?" Kevan asked. "I'm afraid I don't understand that word."

"You might translate it as life-mate," Urish'tal explained. "We separate the process of bearing children from the choice of one to grow old with."

"Would you mind explaining more?" he asked, taking some food from the bowl that had arrived at some point without him noticing.

"What is there to explain?" Mordesh asked. "You choose a mate for her characteristics--for what the child should have. Perhaps she has a strength you do not. You want to sire the best children you can. The females that I've mated with are definitely not the one I'd want to bond to grow old with." He laughed at that, his shoulders moving with it.

"Um, it's a bit different with us," Kevan said, not entirely sure he understood. "Sure, not all... work, but the intention is there." He had to struggle a bit, not knowing a word for marriage, and not wanting to hunt through his palmpad to see if there even was one. "I don't know that I plan to...have children, but if I did I'd want it to be with a woman I would want to be with for the rest of my life."

"Not sire children? Why? Is there something wrong with you?" Rayta asked. Urish'tal cocked her head in a very human-looking gesture of curiosity.

"No," he answered, a bit taken aback. "It's just a choice. I haven't met the woman for it yet."

"I do not understand," Mordesh said. "Haven't found the right one yet? Are your females rare? How does your race not die out if it is so hard to find one? Just on this ship there are plenty of potential mates. I could pick one at any time. Rayta here, for example, would do nicely." Rayta smiled at that in the Rich'ti way, if Kevan interpreted it correctly.

"I'm not sure I follow here," Kevan apologized. "Are you saying you just mate whenever you want with no commitment? What about the children? Don't you stay around to raise them?"

"Of course not. They're raised by the elders," Mordesh explained. "What qualification do I have to educate children?"

"Well, we have schools to educate the children," he tried to explain, "but it is up to the parents of a child to teach moral values and certain basics about life. It is a big responsibility that we take very seriously. That also influences our choice of mate too. We try to find the mate that is most compatible with what we want and need for ourselves and the children the couple might have."

"Any child that I father will be returned to the elders of my community once weaned from the mother's milk," Mordesh said. "My own father and the other elders of that community will teach my children morals and basics about life, along with many other things until they are ready for schooling. The elders have lived much longer than I, and there are many to care for and teach my children. I would not want to limit my offspring to just my knowledge or that of the mother!" Mordesh seemed taken aback at the prospect.

"Does the mother have any impact on her child's life?" Kevan asked. "I'm still not sure I completely understand..."

"A child spends the first year with its mother," Urish'tal told him. "I have birthed eight children myself so far. Two were even from one father. For that first year the child needs its mother's milk until teeth develop. But it is the father that chooses who he mates with, so it is the father's community that the child is inevitably raised in. I have frequent contact with my children and I am proud of each of them, but I would be unable to continue in my profession if I needed to look after them myself. The elders have finished their careers. They now share their wisdom with the young, so that the young may flourish."

"Humans mostly have children with someone they share an emotional bond with," Kevan tried again to explain. "As a result, the child is seen as a product of those emotions - generally love is the dominant emotion. We look for many traits in a mate, but whether or not love is shared becomes the most important part of the ultimate decision. When we find that mate, we make a committment to spend the rest of our lives with that one person, and not to mate with any other. Some pairings do not last, but the intent is there."

"It is amazing you do not die out," Mordesh muttered, seeming disapproving.

"We do choose a life mate," Rayta said. "We call it oungra. While the male chooses who is best to bear his offspring, a female will eventually choose her oungra. The male she chooses will be the one she wishes to live out her years with. He will take her in to his community and care for her for the remainder of her years. But a female does not make this decision until later in her career, usually once she is done bearing children. It takes a long time to make such a decision. If your kind make that decision while still young enough to bear children, it is no wonder that some choose poorly."

"If you are making a committment," Mordesh interjected, "why do some not honor it? You say that when you mate, you commit to spend the rest of your life mating with only that one human. Yet you said that some pairings do not last. A promise or committment is a sacred thing among us. No Rich'ti male would ever break their word once they have made the promise to care for their female that has chosen them. If the female has chosen a male that can still produce offspring, he may not even choose his oungra to produce them with. Your kind seem to be confusing love and procreation, Kevan. They are hardly the same thing. And it causes you to make promises you do not keep."

"Well, for the most part we try not to separate them, actually. Sure, it doesn't always work out, but it has worked for tens of thousands of years. There are quite a few of us, and we manage to be a pretty decent people."

"Okay," he tried, "how do you select that oungra?" He hoped he could change the subject a bit to get them talking about themselves.

"Carefully," Urish'tal replied matter-of-factly.

"I was hoping for more than that. What do you look for, what are the social rituals involved, all that?"

She made a grunting noise he interpreted as their equivalent of 'ah' or 'oh' before saying, "I am always aware of the males around me and in my life. I take note of those that come to the aid of others, and of how they gain and hold their positions. I look for a male with similar interests and beliefs. He will protect me and care for me while we grow old. He should be able to keep his strength, and more importantly his...honor and character."

He had to get the last term from his palmpad. Honor and character were shades of the same word for the Rich'ti.

"You have a very interesting language," he pointed out. "So many words are variations on each other, just...said a little differently." He looked for a word for inflection, but gave up hunting for it, not wanting to interrupt the conversation further.

"But they are clearly different to us, because they mean different things," Rayta said. "Our words are the things they mean, not the sounds they have."

"Is it true that humans have several languages?" Mordesh asked.

"Yes, it is," Kevan replied.

"But you are all of the same race. Why can you not agree on one? It must make communication very difficult."

"There have been several attempts throughout our history where an attempt for a unified language was tried. But we are a people of many cultures. Some groups of humans fear that they will forget their own language and their culture if they adopt a purely human language. There are some who feel that their language is widely enough spoken to be the universal one, and believe that others should learn theirs instead. Culture and individuality can be very important amongst humans."

"It sounds as if your kind are very selfish," Mordesh said bluntly.

"Mordesh!" Urish'tal exclaimed.

"No, it's alright," Kevan said, "He's partly right. Some humans are selfish sometimes. But we are always growing and trying to better ourselves. Perhaps one day we will evolve beyond the need for selfishness. Humans are not perfect. But, personally, I believe that every race has their flaws."

"What flaws would you say the Rich'ti have?" Rayta asked.

"I don't think I can make that kind of judgement after only a few hours, Rayta," he laughed. "I'll have to get to know a lot more about your kind before I can form an opinion. Although I will say that your...unwillingness to meet with other races prior to now might be considered one."

"Prior to now, we have never needed to meet with other races," Rayta said. "We are self-sufficient. We do not require trade, for example. Until recently, we had no use for such contact. Especially as the other races seem prone to lies and deceit. I, for one, would not want to see that influence destroy the integrity of the Rich'ti. Other races tend to influence each other."

"Who's to say that you might not influence them though?" Kevan asked. "By keeping to yourselves, you also deny the other races the opportunity to see that a society can exist without lies and deceit. And surely there are some good things that you could learn from other races as well, or I would not be here right now."

"Your being here is circumstancial, because of the war," Mordesh spoke up. "Were it not for the Brey-hahd being so warlike, we would still have no need of you."

"But there is a need right now," he replied. "It is useless to look at what might have been when it is not what actually is happening. And my experiences amongst the Rich'ti will, inevitably change me. It will likely change some of the Rich'ti I encounter as well."

"Then perhaps we should not have let you come at all," Mordesh said, seeming to frown.

"From what I understand, I was carefully chosen. I am interested in learning about your culture, not changing it, Mordesh. I have no intention of lying or being deceitful in any way, if that makes you feel any better."

"Just because you have no intention to lie to us does not mean you will not do it," Mordesh replied. "Among Rich'ti, lying or breaking a promise is a serious crime. It is a very rare occurance. It also bears harsh punishment for those who would dishonor themselves by doing it."

"Oh?" Kevan asked. Mordesh gave him a strange look.

"Yes, they are banished and not spoken of."

"What, banished from their town, or from the planet?"

"First, they are marked," Urish'tal explained for him. "From that point on no Rich'ti will associate with them, or render them aid, or even speak with them. They are sent out into the wilderness to fend for themselves or to die. Our society has no place for those with no...honor. We simply do not tolerate it."

"What does your people consider a harsh punishment, and what merits it?" Rayta asked.

"Well, mostly we...lock away...law breakers," he said, struggling with his palmpad. There also appeared to be no Rich'ti word for imprison or criminal. "At one point we executed the worst of them, but that ended quite some time ago. Now mostly we try to re-educate them so that they can eventually be reintegrated into society. Some can't and they remain locked away for life."

"What is the point to that? If they will never be part of society, then aren't they just a drain on resources that could be better spent elsewhere?"

"Some see it that way, but there aren't always...acceptable alternatives. In some cases they are put to work, but that's more often part of preparing them for release back into the population."

"But what crimes merit punishment?" Rayta asked.

"We have a lot of laws," Kevan replied. "It can be very complicated. Some of the most basic crimes would be murder or theft, however. Murder is considered one of the worst crimes and has always received the harshest punishments." He noticed that the palmpad showed two different distinctions under the word kill. He chose the one that seemed most like what he wanted, but was unsure what they meant by the other. It sounded to him as if duels were acceptable here.

"What does rugleth mean exactly?" he asked. "I'm seeing it here and I'm not sure I understand..."

"Death challenge," Mordesh answered. "In some cases it is acceptable to make such a dire challenge that death can be a possible outcome."

"Perhaps I'm not quite grasping what you mean by challenge then," Kevan said, tapping it into his palmpad.

"Then you have much to learn indeed," Mordesh replied with a snort.

"However, we do not have time for such a lengthy discussion as that," Urish'tal interrupted. "Our medical bay still has people in it who need looking after, and our dinner break is over. I'm sure Sarsh'ta can fill in more details for you when she is recovered." Urish'tal stood up, pushing her empty bowl towards the inner edge of the table.

"Thank you, all of you," Kevan said, getting hastily to his feet. "This has been both informative and enjoyable." He realized that he had hardly eaten anything himself, and wondered what the etiquette was for carrying bowls of food around ship.

Other Rich'ti were getting up and stacking their bowls on their way out, but not all were leaving. It occurred to him that some were probably on off-duty watch rotations, and did not have any specific place they needed to be. He remained and finished eating. This was a milder meat with cubes of something he related to a potato that was soft enough to chew but still firm.

He yawned, his body still trying to make sense of the longer Rich'ti day. He wondered how long it would take his body to adjust, or whether it ever would. He supposed he'd end up taking what the Rich'ti would consider a mid-day nap, but then he wondered how long they slept at night. More questions, he mused as he added that to the growing topics list in his palmpad.

It suddenly occurred to him that he did not even know what time it was. There was no clock in the room. He had packed a watch, but hadn't bothered to wear in on the long trip to rendezvous with this one. On human ships, clocks were never hard to find. There wasn't one here, and he didn't recall ever seeing one. Yet the Rich'ti that had gotten up all at once had all known when to do so. Or maybe they all took their cue from the first to stand up?

He chuckled, thinking about the watch as he realized it would be nearly useless. It could track human time with high precision. Short of constantly recalculating, that wasn't going to do him much good. He decided he'd just have to adjust. For the moment, there was time before planet fall for him to figure it out.

Eventually he got up and stretched. He took his empty bowl and stacked it with the rest on his way out. He decided it was time for some exercise. First he went back to his room and changed into one of the workout outfits he'd brought, shorts with a sleeveless shirt. He wondered what they'd think of that, and then he abruptly looked around the room. He realized he had not once seen a mirror on the ship. He sighed, shaking his head.

He flexed his shoulder, testing his arm which ached in protest at the movement, and decided he'd opt out at trying any of the exercise he'd seen Trorkash doing earlier. He didn't need to touch his bandaged ribs to know that he wouldn't be doing any situps either, although he decided that the bandages themselves were coated with some sort of time-release medication, as the area was still slightly numbed and cool-feeling. He took some time to stretch out his body before leaving the room, which helped him shake off some of the tension that had built up over the course of the day. Once he felt his muscles loosen out and his joints move with more fluidity, he decided he was ready to brave their fitness equipment.

He headed out of his room and to the fitness area, reviewing in his mind the other apparatus he had seen the Rich'ti using. He already knew to steer clear of the padded area where wrestling seemed to be the main exercise, and he really had no idea how to work the machines he'd seen Trorkash and others using. He decided that the treadmill-type of floor area he'd noticed would suffice, assuming he could figure out how to get one started.

When he entered the fitness area, Kevan noticed that each of the areas had a computer panel, similar to what Trorkash had used to bring the exercise machine out for use. He moved to the one closest to the treadmills and carefully accessed the menu screen. Although there wasn't anyone in that particular area just then, several Rich'ti watched him from other areas in the room. He was relieved when he was able to get one of the treadmills working with relative ease. A small panel dropped down out of the ceiling in front of it, giving Kevan options to increase or decrease speed and steepness. He started slow and increased speed in small increments, unsure how the Rich'ti measures would compare to human ones. Eventually, he got himself up to a decent jogging pace.

After a while a male Rich'ti came over and started up the adjacent treadmill. At first Kevan tried to ignore him. The last thing he wanted was to get involved in some competition. But the Rich'ti's odd loping gait eventually caught his attention.

The Rich'ti ankles were higher on the leg, giving the appearance of an extra joint. It made for a springier motion than human running. It also created longer but slower strides. He judged the Rich'ti would be better sprinters by a reasonable margin, but he wondered what difference in endurance there might be.

He looked forward again, not wanting to risk eye contact. The Rich'ti increased both the running angle and speed, but Kevan ignored it and left his untouched. Better to just not respond, I hope.

By that point he had worked up a reasonable sweat and was starting to breathe heavier, which was starting to hurt. He stepped the speed down into a cool-down pace. The Rich'ti increased pace.

When he ended his run he looked around the other equipment, looking for leg machines. The ones he found were designed for proportions and joint configurations too different from his own.

He was being watched as he moved from machine to machine. He could feel them watching him. It was markedly uncomfortable, but he tried to ignore it. Eventually he gave up on trying to find things he could use that weren't going to stress his rib or shoulder.

He made his way back to his room, remembering again that he had not been shown any facilities designated for bathing. He changed out of his sweaty exercise clothes and toweled himself off before putting on a comfortable long-sleeved shirt and pants, slipping his palmpad into a pocket. He put on socks and a more casual pair of loafers instead of the sneakers before heading back to the library again. This time, he was determined to find out what he could about bathing.

His attempts to find a ship schematic were mostly unsuccessful. He had access to some basic maps - mostly ones that showed him where to go in case of an emergency on the ship. There were several rooms that seemed to have denser walls, and separate airlocks to provide a safe area to go to if the hull was breached. He noticed that they'd chosen larger rooms for most of these areas - the mess hall and fitness area being two of them. He found his access denied for some of the more detailed maps, however. It seemed that Sarsh'ta had shown him the parts of the ship he was allowed. Anything else appeared restricted. He briefly wondered what would happen if he were to wander at all, but decided that it was probably not the best idea to find out.

He searched in the encyclopedia next, looking for information on bathing. He quickly found that in communities where children were present they were responsible for bathing and grooming the adults. There were images of Rich'ti children pouring water over adult Rich'ti, and combing out the fur with their claws or sometimes what looked like combs. Children seemed to do the same for each other in order to stay clean. Kevan rapidly began to realize that he was in a very social culture.

There was no mention, however, about what the Rich'ti did when there were no children around. He had not seen any on the ship and doubted that there was any. They need to bathe here too. Where do they get the water and where do they do it? He didn't relish the idea of spending a week without some sort of washing up. He started wishing he hadn't been quite so eager to work out.

I guess I will have to ask either Sarsh'ta or Urish'tal tomorrow, he decided, making himself another note on his palmpad.

He took a moment to look around. There were several other Rich'ti around, both male and female, and yet none of them seemed to be paying any attention to him. He wondered if they were all just engrossed with what they were doing, or if there was some unknown-to-him privacy rule here. He turned back within his own recessed alcove.

There were several areas of the encyclopedia that he found denied to him--information about their solar system, for one. He could not get to any information about their military, not even listings of ranks or chain of command.

He did find images and maps of their homeworld, along with details and specifics. It was slightly larger than Earth, and a bit heavier. Its 1.2g gravity would make him twenty percent heavier than on Earth, but would hardly be a noticeable difference from the 1.6g back home on Tanga Prime. There were two moons, one very large one and a smaller one closer to the planet penned in by the two gravity wells. There was a side article about the lunar calendar they had once used. It was complicated, and since it was no longer used, he didn't feel obligated to understand it today.

There was much more land on their homeworld than on Earth. Only about 45% of the planet's surface was ocean. Most of the land was more equatorial, and a much slighter axial tilt than Earth's would make for relatively minor seasonal changes. It looked as though much of the landmass was rain forest. While quite a bit had been cleared for farming and agriculture, there was still a great deal of unused land between the cities. He looked forward to actually seeing it.

He was able to find out that there were two other planets in their solar system that were habitable, each of them having its own entry in the encyclopedia. Another search revealed that they had seven planets overall, in a total of four different solar systems. Like his previous search, details on the solar systems were unavailable, but he could get information on each of the planets themselves. He saw notations that indicated two of the planets as being "occupied" by the Brey-hahd.

He also found reference to an eighth planet. Curious, he brought up the encyclopedia entry, and was greeted with images of lush forests, long stretches of beach, and several other picturesque visions. He checked with his palmpad to verify words that referred to the planet as a paradise. It read like a brochure, listing spa-like facilities sprawled out over the best locations on the planet.

Then he selected the menu option for current news, and was greeted with images of the planet from orbit. But these images showed the planet glowing angrily as it burned. The article suggested that the Brey-hahd had not found the planet's resources useful enough to them. A small ship of survivors had managed to escape after the occupation force had been there for two weeks, testing the planet for the raw minerals that the Brey-hahd were stripping out of the other two planets they held. Those that had tried to approach the planet after the Brey-hahd ships had packed up and left orbit, were unable to tell what the Brey-hahd had done to start the fire. It was estimated that the entire planet had been engulfed over the course of one day cycle. Several attempts had been made to fly in close to the planet, but none were able to find survivors to pick up.

He looked up the two planets that had been mentioned as being occupied, and saw that only one was in the same system as the one they had lost. The other one was in a different system, and the news reports he accessed on it revealed that it was the most recent, having fallen to the Brey-hahd 28 Rich'ti days ago. News reports had interviews from survivors who'd escaped the planets, reporting brutal slavery at the hands of the Brey-hahd, with the promise of eventual death. Anyone the slavers considered too old or sick to work was apparently thrown into a large pit of flame. One survivor said that the fire burned at a low enough heat that the screams would be heard for what seemed like hours. Rich'ti legs and arms were broken first, so that they couldn't climb out of the flames.

Kevan exhaled slowly. This was the first he'd read about what the Brey-hahd did when they took a planet. He'd been briefed before coming here, but the Brey-hahd hadn't been fighting with the humans for more than a couple years. They had not managed to take any planets in human territory yet. Most of what he knew had been from studies that had been done on their ships' transmissions and from the autopsies and ship studies that had been done on the couple of ships that had not been able to retreat. Most of what he knew of them consisted of technology and biology.

My government needs to know about this, he thought unhappily, as he tapped on his palmpad. He wished he knew a way to download some of what he was reading directly into it so he could add it to his report. Instead, he settled for inputting as much as he could in the time he had before bed.

Then he thought to look for articles on the Brey-hahd. There was more information about them than he'd seen before. He found pictures, biological information, their location in the galaxy, and some information on their ships.

Notably lacking was any information on their culture or history, or details on their planets and solar systems. In that respect the Rich'ti didn't seem to know more than anyone else. He hoped to find some gaps, something that humans had learned that the Rich'ti had not, something his government could share in exchange. He couldn't find anything.

He also looked for information on the other races as well. Mostly it was information he had seen before, but he did notice how it was presented. The Rich'ti were more judgmental of the other races just as they seemed to be with humanity. That was at the same time partly reassuring and partly not. It was good to know that humanity was not being singled out for skepticism, but it did not help him feel less pressured about being a good representative.

The hour chime sounded, and some of the Rich'ti got up and left. He supposed some of them had watch rotations starting. He sat back and stretched, thinking maybe he had read enough for a while. His shoulder and rib were starting to ache a little more. He supposed what they had given him was starting to wear off. He decided it didn't yet warrant requesting more.

He remembered that he wanted to upload his palmtop onto his regular computer as a backup before going to sleep, so he got the library computer back to its main menu and then headed to his quarters. He noticed that he didn't see as many Rich'ti in the lounge and hallways as he passed. He wondered if it was their version of the "night shift" about now, where the majority of the crew members were asleep. He was pretty tired himself, and checked his palmtop for what time it was at his home planet of Tangra Prime. It surprised him to find that it was nearly midnight back home. He hadn't noticed that so much time had passed.

Once in his room, Kevan pulled the larger computer out of its heavily padded metal case and opened it up. His main reasons for even bringing it were to keep backups in case anything happened to his palmtop, and for sending reports back to his own government. He made another note on his palmtop to ask Sarsh'ta who he should talk to about powering it. It had a decent-sized battery in it, which he'd fully charged before leaving, but he didn't exactly have an outlet here to plug it into for recharging. He'd need it fully charged in order to send messages back home. It had been fitted with the very newest in satellite transmission equipment while he travelled to the rendevous point, but it still took a lot of power for it to boost the signal. He had no idea how much distance it would have to cover before reaching the nearest human satellite. He was under the understanding that it might take a few days for transmissions to be received back and forth. He'd been instructed to ask one of the Rich'ti to devise a way for him to re-power the computer's battery, and had a whole bunch of printed pages with information on power requirements and the computer's schematics in case anything went wrong. He had similar documentation on his palmtop, although the hend-held computer used much less power overall. The battery in that would last him probably a month before needing a recharge. He suspected that some arrangements could be made at whatever location he would be residing on the planet.

After he had successfully uploaded all of the day's input from the palmtop to the computer, he secured the computer back into the case and tucked it away again. He set the palmtop onto the desk next to the washcloth he'd used earlier.

So many questions, he thought at the sight of the washcloth. And still, no shower. He sighed and pulled his clothes off. Once undressed, he realized that there were no blankets or sheets. The air seemed warm enough however, so he shrugged and lay down naked on the soft fur of the mat in the center. He realized, once sprawled out, that he didn't need covers. The fur against his skin was warm and luxurious. He quickly forgot about his injuries as he realized that the mat was also generating a small amount of heat from beneath it. He fleetingly wished that he'd had a wife to bring along with him as he drifted off to sleep.