Chapter 3

They've jumped again, he realized. He supposed there could have been an announcement he hadn't heard. He suspected they were all so used to it that they could just sleep through it. With his luck he'd get to that point at the last jump before arriving at the planet.

He stretched on the fur mat, letting himself get lost in the softness of it for a moment. This I can definitely get used to, he decided.

Eventually he got up and got dressed, selecting a comfortable outfit for the day. He checked the time, noting that he'd been asleep for about five of their hours, or about a full night's sleep for him. He expected another nap later, but for now he was hungry. He thought about calling Sarsh'ta, but he wasn't sure what part of the day/night cycle it was, and didn't want to wake her if she was sleeping.

He slipped his palmpad into a pocket and stepped out into the hall. The hallway lights were dimmed. He assumed that meant that ship was in night mode. There were lights in the dining area, and a lone female was in the middle tending to the griddle-like equipment.

"Excuse me," he said. "It's night now, right?"

"Yes," she answered, "but there will be food shortly. Some of the crew will break in their duty shifts. You are the human--of course you are..."

"Yes. My name's Kevan."

"I am Rosh'tur. I am one of the night shift cooks."

"I thought maybe that was the case," he said, barely remembering to not smile.

"You are hungry?"

"Yes, very," he answered, not knowing a Rich'ti word to parallel famished.

"Here, try some of this," she said. "It should be sufficient until the meal is finished cooking." She handed him a bowl with a roundish brown item resembling bread. He took it from her greatfully and bit into it without hesitation. It tasted very similar to some kind of combination between a potato bread and a wheat bread, with some sort of herbs mixed into it. It was still slightly warm, and the outside of it flaked like a croissant.

As he pulled pieces off and popped them into his mouth, he noticed Rosh'tur watching him curiously as she flipped some small items cooking on the griddle with a flat tool that resembled a handleless spatula.

"Do you like our food or does it taste strangely to you?" she finally asked him.

"So far everything has tasted rather good," he admitted. "There was a fruit, I think, dipped in something that was slightly crisp on the outside," he tapped at his palmtop for some of the words to describe it, "I think I've liked that one the best."

"I think you mean the Zangut," Rosh'tur replied. "When it is dipped in Nukra'tet sap and fried it is quite good. It is a favorite among us as well, although not the best item you will likely taste. It is good to know that your tastes are not too different from our own when it comes to food." She rolled her head in what seemed like an approving manner.

Well, at least that's something we have in common, he thought to himself as he chewed.

After a few minutes had passed, some Rich'ti began fitering into the mess hall. Every one of them that entered the room looked Kevan over before choosing their seat. Most chose mats across the room. He suspected that they wanted a vantage point where they could keep watch on him without having to be too near him. He did his best to ignore them completely while he finished the bread. Shortly after he'd eaten the last bite, Rosh'tur brought him another bowl, with different food in it.

There were cubes of something potato-like, but reddish brown, bits of something that resembled scrambled eggs except for being orange, and pieces of what he thought were some kind of sausage. She ripped another piece of bread off for him, explaining, "Pieces of bread are used for scooping. Excuse me now, please."

She started filling other bowls and handing them out with hunks of bread. He looked down at the bowl and the orange eggs, trying not to look too skeptical. He was just glad he hadn't been served anything slimy or quivering--or with eyeballs. He scooped up some of the eggs with the bread, seeing Rich'ti do the same.

The eggs had the texture and consistency of scrambled eggs, but tasted more like salty tomato soup than anything else he could think of. The potato cubes had a mushroomy taste, and the sausage was just spicy. He had to eat the sausage with some of the potatoes together to cut the spiciness, although following a bite with some of the eggs helped. It was interesting, he decided, but it wasn't something he was expecting to develop any great preference for.

Rich'ti were watching him. Several males were overtly staring. He was careful not to make eye contact with any of them, and deliberately ate his food. He ate more than he wanted to. He was afraid to not finish and be judged for that.

"I see that you like it," Rosh'tur said when she had a free moment. He was mostly finished at that point.

"We have foods that are somewhat similar, but no exact matches. The flavors are all at least ...a little familiar."

"It is always nice to find something familiar when far from home," Rosh'tur nodded. "Perhaps you will find more things that are not so different." She turned and headed back to the griddle again. It looked as if she began cleaning the grill and large clouds of steam rose up from it when she ran some sort of bar across its length.

He noticed that some of the other Rich'ti seemed agitated that Kevan had been speaking to Rosh'tur, and though he was somewhat concerned by it, he made a point of finishing his food before leaving. Once back in his room, he changed into workout clothes again and stretched out his muscles before heading to the fitness area. He always began his morning with a jog if possible, and didn't see any reason to stop. He was surprised to find the fitness area completely empty and dimly lit as he entered it, although the lights seemed to automatically brighten on his arrival. He started up one of the treadmills and set himself at his usual jogging pace.

He noticed that his shoulder and ribs ached, but didn't really hurt as much as he would have expected. It made him wonder how much different their medical technology and medicines were. He'd been briefed that their technology was superior to that of humans on at least a few things, but there really hadn't been a whole lot of information. Much of it had been supplied by the Rich'ti in the first place, and had been subject to skepticizm by the members of human goverment that had written up the papers Kevan had read. It had been clear that their communications technology was superior. Once the Rich'ti had started sending messages, there had been no trouble with receiving them intact, and they'd arrived much quicker than expected. Some speculation had been made that they had just had a ship close by that they had been able to mask from view somehow. It was Kevan's understanding that with his arrival on the Rich'ti ship, a parcel of documents had been sent back in the shuttle with schematics for several non-military technologies that the Rich'ti felt were better than what the Humans currently had. After a certain amount of time for Kevan to acclimate to the Rich'ti culture, he would negotiate some more viable trades with them. He'd been given a long list of what his government wanted and what they'd be willing to trade in return. He had some worries about that already. The Rich'ti were going to want weapons and shield technology in order to fight the Brey-hahd. Kevan knew that it wouldn't be easy to convince his government to make a trade for something like that.

Time seemed to slip quickly past him while he was jogging along, and he was finishing a cool-down just as other Rich'ti started filtering in. He didn't bother to look at any of the other machines again just yet, but had a feeling he'd be able to test some of them out sooner than he'd realized. He went back to his room, sorely missing the post-workout shower he was accustomed to. As he toweled off again and changed back into his outfit from breakfast, he resolved to get that problem resolved. He realized that his deoderant would only mask his need for bathing for so long.

He spent a little while putting notes together for his report. It was starting out as an outline, meant to jog his memory with things he didn't want to forget to include. He gauged he should have enough battery time for the trip to the planet. He stopped after about an hour.

He also spent some time lost in thought, and then heard the double chime that meant it was one of the meal hours. He stepped into the hallway and the lights were up to daytime mode. He made his way to the medical bay.

He found Urish'tal there, going over information on a screen on the wall. There were still several of the gray privacy bubbles around the room.

"Good morning," he said, hoping it had the right meaning.

"Hello," she greeted back with a tilt of the head he was starting to interpret as minor confusion.

"For us it's customary to greet each other at the start of a new day, wishing each other a good day."

"That sounds like something for before a battle or contest," Mordesh suggested, having stepped from a bubble.

"On the contrary, it's a gesture of respect."

"Indeed. We do not reserve respect for once per day."

"I didn't mean-- I guess it's more similar to asking someone if they've slept well, and that it's good to see the person again."

"Do your kind not usually sleep well?" Mordesh asked, handing a datapad over to Urish'tal.

"It's not that," Kevan sighed. "Don't Rich'ti inquire after the health or well-being of each other?"

"It would be rude to assume that someone was not at their best unless they were known to be injured or otherwise unwell," Mordesh replied flatly.

"I see," Kevan said. "Then what do you say when you want to greet someone?"

"In most instances, we just say hello," Urish'tal answered as she looked over the datapad.

"Well, then... Hello," he said with a sigh.

Urish'tal turned and handed the datapad back to Mordesh.

"See that you give him another dose of Agutohdyntek before he leaves. I don't want that infection to return," she told Mordesh before turning back to Kevan. "It is good you are here. I would like to scan you again if you don't mind, as well as another blood sample to be sure our foods are providing the adequate nutrients and vitamins you require."

"Of course," he replied. She gave him a look that seemed almost relieved or surprised and indicated one of the tables. As soon as he had hopped up onto it, a gray bubble shimmered into view around them.

"I actually came here to inquire about Sarsh'ta," he said as Urish'tal took the blood sample. "Is she well?"

"Of course she is well," Urish'tal replied. "She left here not long ago. I believe she has a meeting with Agronet before she plans to join up with you again."

"I look forward to it. I have plenty of questions to ask her."

"You do certainly have plenty of questions."

He looked at her with some concern.

"Am I being rude?" he asked.

"It is not rude, it is just that you ask questions about things that we learn as children from the elders of our communities. You are not a child, but you do no know our ways. Children are not found on ships, so we are not accustomed to such questions here. You will find it less difficult when you go planetside. There will be elders there to answer your questions. And Sarsh'ta seems excited at the idea of answering many of them herself."

The machine came down from the ceiling to hover above him.

"Please lie still for a moment," Urish'tal told him as she adjusted some controls. He lay there and watched as the images moved across the screen above him. The scan seemed to take less time than the previous ones. It did give him a little time to think on what Urish'tal had told him.

"I apologize if anyone has felt burdened by my questions," he said when the machine retreated back into its panel in the ceiling. "It was not my intent to make anyone uncomfortable."

She looked at him strangely and then seemed to sigh.

"Let me give you a piece of advice, Kevan," she said quietly. "Don't apologize for something as simple as a misunderstanding. Many would consider you weak for doing so. You must appear strong to those around you, even if you do not always feel it. We respect strength, whether it is strength of character, strength of knowledge, or strength of physical prowess. Be careful, though. I'm told you keep yourself in good physical shape, but my data says that you will suffer injury if you rely on that strength alone. As a race, my people are stronger and more durable physically than yours. But Sarsh'ta has risked a lot to bring you here, in the hopes that your kind can help save us from being devastated at the hands of the Brey-hahd. I think you have good intent, but it will take much more than that to convince most Rich'ti that it is worth the danger of having you among us."

"Am I so dangerous?" he asked after a long moment digesting what she said.

"It is said that your people lie and use deception to get what they want. That alone could destroy our culture if Rich'ti began to do the same. We can have a brutal nature if left unchecked, Kevan. Our ancient history is filled with violent acts. But now, our ways keep us peaceful and respectful of one another while allowing our instincts a space of their own. It is a balance. One that should not be disturbed. We are happy this way, even if other races do not understand."

"I think I do understand. Some, anyway," he told her. "It is not my intent to disrupt the balance." He sat up on the table, looking at her intently. "Thank you for telling me this."

She rolled her head at him. He wasn't sure if it was a smile or acknowlegement kind of roll, but it didn't seem negative. Then she turned and walked out of the privacy bubble. A moment later it dissapated as he slid off the edge of the table to stand next to it. He left the medical bay deep in thought, mulling over Urish'tal's words and jotting down more queries he wanted to run on the library computer.

The library was about half full. He chose an alcove and sat. It occurred to him to wonder how Sarsh'ta would find him. There isn't all that much of the ship I'm allowed in. She won't have to look too hard, he decided.

He leaned back and started with news reports. That had been part of his daily routine, and the news ought to give him some varied glimpses into their culture. He was certainly only seeing a part of it so far.

The reporter spoke quickly enough that there were words here and there he couldn't translate quickly enough to quite keep up. He left it running in the background, letting his mind wander a little. He noticed that while others were viewing video, he couldn't hear any stray noises. He wondered if the alcoves were designed acoustically to contain the sounds or if there was some other force field system at work.

"Hello," Sarsh'ta said when she eventually arrived. She sat facing him, leaning back on the curved alcove wall.

"There are much better news programs on the planets. These here are always dry and of little interest."

"Considering how little I really know of your culture, it doesn't take much to be informative."

"Perhaps we should return to your quarters and I can fill you in on some more then," she rolled her head smile-like. "I expect you have plenty of questions."

"I do," he agreed. They stood up and made their way back towards his quarters.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. He realized suddenly that she'd spoken to him in Rich'ti this time instead of English. He was glad, as reverting back to English would be less useful to him right now. He knew he needed to perfect his Rich'ti.

"I am well, Kevan," she replied, "although it is not considered polite to ask such a question, actually."

He stopped and looked at her. He wondered if she understood the expression of confusion on his face.

"You were injured. I thought it was alright to ask if you knew that someone had been injured?" he asked her.

"I see you've been asking some questions," she laughed. "It is alright to ask someone you know to be injured. I, however, have left the medical bay. It is safe to assume that if I have chosen to leave medical care, I must be well again. We do not inquire over the health of a well person as you do."

"I see." He sighed and finished the last few feet to the door for his quarters. They went inside and he closed the door behind them.

"Actually," he said once they were in the room and she had sat down on one side of the center mat. "I have a more urgent concern."

"Oh?" she asked.

"It is somewhat of an embarrasing topic to bring up, but I'm starting to think our bathing rituals differ somewhat. I have seen no facilities for it, and the library has been less than informative. I would very much like to bathe."

"Ohhhh," she replied. "I had hoped we'd have more of a chance for discussion before we broached this topic. Your kind are very different in that regard. We've arranged for what you call a 'shower' at your residence on the planet, but such arrangements were unable to be made on the ship."

"I see," he said dismally. He suddenly regretted his workouts. "I may be a bit, um... smelly if I wait that long. I'd hate for my first impression on the planet to be one that -"

"For one thing," she interrupted, "you don't need to mask your odor. We have a keen sense of smell, and the strangeness of your - 'deodorant' I believe is the word - is not the most pleasant, to be honest."

He felt his face and ears turn red with his embarassment.

"Oh, Lord..." he muttered in English. He put his face in his hand, wondering just how many Rich'ti he'd managed to offend with just his scent.

"It's alright," she laughed. "I would have told you sooner had I not been detained in the medical bay. In communities planetside, it is the duty of the children to bathe and groom the adults when the adults wish it. When on a ship, usually we partner up and bathe and groom each other. If you wish it, I will fetch some water and show you."

He raised his head to look at her, and his embarassment changed to surprise.

"I - you're - umm..." he didn't know what she meant exactly and was unsure of how to respond.

"I understand that your kind have some issues with privacy and nudity, but you will find that we do not. If you wish to embrace our culture while you are here, you will need to make a few adjustments. While we are on the ship, we can bathe and groom each other. I can show you how this is done. Or, I can fetch some water and you can make do until we reach the planet, although I hope that you will allow it once before we reach the planet. You will find that our children are more than eager to do this chore, and will be very curious about you. It is likely that they will make repeated attempts to groom you at the very least."

He raised an eyebrow at that.

"Very well," he finally replied. "I do wish to embrace your culture."

"Wonderful!" She looked excited. "I will return with water shortly."

She hopped off the mat and headed quickly out of the room, as if afraid he'd change his mind.

He immediately felt certain he would regret it. He spent most of the time before she came back pacing back and forth trying to get his stomach to relax. When she came back she had a rather large bowl. It looked to be maybe half full of water. He wasn't sure he'd be able to carry it any real distance without spilling.

"It has taken a while to explain to some of my people that you could survive coming to us alone," she said. "I understand that your kind are inherently solitary--individuals. To us, a sense of community is vital. Lock one of us in a room alone and we'll die.

"So grooming each other is a social occasion. Contact with each other keeps us close. It keeps us one people. Your kind will gather to discuss things, or to share meals, or to witness sporting events, but your nature is to be alone.

"Being able to explain that to my government was one of the things that got me this assignment. There was great concern and debate about your prisons. The idea of locking someone alone in a room for the rest of their lives with no hope for intimate contact seems amazingly cruel from our perspective."

"But you understand our side of it?" Kevan asked.

"Yes, I think I do. But it is very different from us. It is yet one more example of something that makes us seem so strange to each other. Your kind baffles us--more so than most of the other races."

She pulled out something that looked a bit like a sponge as well as a number of combs of different sizes.

"I am pleased to get this opportunity. I had hoped to do it sooner. Ceremonial cleaning is a good purifying act. It can mark a beginning, a changing point. We also clean and groom each other when reunited after a separation, as a welcoming gesture to bring someone back into the community. Done properly, there should be several of us here, but I understand that might be too difficult for you."

"Yes, I have to admit that I would find that difficult," he admitted. "How is this done?"

"Well, first you will need to remove your coverings," she told him. "It would be difficult to proceed with them on."

He nodded and slipped his shoes off his feet. He followed with the rest of the clothes, trying to remind himself that he'd been naked in the medical bay the day before without it being an issue.

Yes, but that was the medical bay, he thought to himself. This is my quarters. Focus, Kevan. When in Rome...

He took longer than he needed to, folding his clothes neatly and putting them on the desk. Then he turned back towards her, trying to keep his face calm and casual, yet without smiling. She rolled her head as if smiling at him.

"Perhaps we should start with you bathing me, if that would make you more comfortable. Then, when we switch, you will know better what to expect."

"Alright," he said, nodding at her.

She handed him the sponge and bowl, setting the combs on the edge of the desk.

"We start from the top of the head and make our way down. First, wash gently with the moistened sponge. Like this," she took the hand he held the sponge in and made gentle circles with the sponge on an area of her arm.

"Then, we comb the are of hair to remove any tangles. After we have done the entire body like this, we go back and comb through the hair again with this comb," she showed him one of the combs that had finer teeth on it. "In some areas there is coarser hair than in others. During the washing process you will need this comb for those areas," she pointed at another one. "But you will still use the finer one for the final grooming. You do not need to comb the areas that do not have hair."

He took the comb she had indicated he start with and looked at it, nodding.

"Since I am taller than you, I will sit for the first half to make it easier," she said. She sat down on the edge of the mat and looked at him encouragingly.

He moved behind her to start at the back. He hoped that would help him get distracted enough to be more comfortable by the time she was watching him.

He took the wet sponge to the top of her head first. It was reassuring that the sponge was fairly soft. He assumed part of the goal was to rub at the scalp to help get dead skin as well, so he went ahead and rubbed a little. It reminded him a little of washing his dog. For the most part the fur was the same length and thickness, although Rich'ti fur was softer.

She tilted her head back a little. He thought it was her settling in to what he was doing, and he took that as a signal he was doing it right.

"Too much pressure? You did say gentle."

"No, what you are doing now is about right for most parts."

He tried to keep his thoughts more clinical. He took the opportunity to notice the body structure while he was slowly working his way downward. Rich'ti ears, for one thing, were lower on the head. He wondered how many of their gestures involved moving the head to aim the ears somewhat.

The neck went higher up to the head than he had quite realized. The fur concealed some of the body shape. As he worked he got the impression that there was a thin fat layer all over, but not much of one. The fur, and probably a favorable climate, meant there wasn't as much need for an insulating fat layer.

"When humans are too warm our skins release moisture. That cools us as it evaporates. So far, for the most part, we haven't seen that method used on species with fur. How does your kind regulate temperature?"

"Our metabolisms are fairly reactive, for one," she explained. "When the air is warmer the metabolism slows down, and it speeds up when more warmth is needed. Our breathing rate also changes to dissipate heat faster when needed."

"I see," he said.

"Isn't it a problem to have all that moisture?" she asked him. "It would soak into the coverings you wear instead of evaporate, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, it can," he replied. "It depends on how hot or dry the climate is though. That is part of why we change our coverings periodically. Which brings me to another question. Is there somewhere that I can wash my coverings? They will need cleaning from time to time. And I have a cloth that needs cleaning. I used it to mop up spilled food after yesterday's encounter with the Brey-hahd." He pointed at the balled-up washcloth, still sitting atop the desk.

"I understand you have machines that handle that," she said, "but while you are on our homeworld I've made arrangements for some of the older children to clean your coverings when you wish it. I had not made arrangements for it here on the ship, however. I understand that most humans gather their used coverings to wash them weekly?"

"Yes, that is true," he nodded. "I have enough coverings with me that it can wait until we reach the planet."

He worked on her arms and back next, thinking on his list of questions as he did.

"I got the impression from the news stories that you chose me rather specifically for this job," he finally said. "And I have been made to understand that you have a lot at risk if things don't go well. Can I ask what made you pick me over the others?"

"Still, there were others with similar schooling that would have probably done just as well," he said. "Walter Emmerstet, for one. He has the same degrees as I do, as well as one in Interspecies Biology."

"Are you saying we chose poorly, Kevan?" She turned to look at him, tilting her head with an expression he had a feeling equated to a frown.

"No!" he answered, trying to sound reassuring. "It's just that my government sent a very large list of potentials and you sent back one name. Not even a second choice if I were to have said no. I'm wondering how it narrowed down to just me."

"Walter Emmerstet was one of the final candidates. He is, however, six of your years older than you. He may be in fine physical shape, according to the records we received, but we don't know how long we are going to need to have it be the same person as our liason. This could be for a couple of your years, or it could last longer. Or it could fall apart within days after you reach the homeworld. I hope it doesn't, but I have to prepare for that possibility. Walter Emmerstet also had a knee injury in his youth. It is estimated that the peices of bone they replaced could wear out within the next three or four years of his life. The knowledge of this would make him seem frail in my people's eyes, even if the knee did last."

"I didn't know that he'd had a knee injury," Kevan mused. He moved around in front of her and started working on that side of the areas he'd already cleaned the back of.

"There were other considerations," she continued. "You've had face to face contact with more of the other races than most of the candidates. Whether your government believes that our technology is better or not, it is. We accessed records on the final candidates that other races had. From what I could tell once the translations came in, you've made fewer enemies amongst people of other races. Yet you still seem to be able to speak your opinions while among them. I'm hoping you can do that here as well."

He looked at her in surprise.

"You mean you've got files on me from other races?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Some of them are almost more detailed than the ones your government sent us. But then we didn't limit ourselves to just what they sent us either."

"How did you...?" he trailed off, wondering if the Rich'ti were hacking into government records. That wouldn't bode well if the government were to find out about it, he thought to himself.

"Races other than the Rich'ti tend to be deceitful on many levels, Kevan. We watch over transmissions between other races all the time, to keep ourselves from danger. The majority of what we have was filtered from those transmissions recorded over the last ten of our years. All of the other races you have encountered are spying on each other, including your own. Those spies send transmissions as well."

"Here is the first of the place you'll need to be a little more gentle," she said as he got lower on her chest. She indicated four nipples. "If I was nursing they would be prominently visible, but as I am not, they are not. Snagging one with a comb would not be a good thing."

"The breasts on human females are always at least a certain amount there. On some they are larger or smaller, but they're always there."

"Ours recede when not needed," she said, leaning her head a little. "Don't they get in the way of daily activities?"

He laughed. "In some cases, it depends on how big they are, I suppose. It's just how it is, we didn't design it that way specifically. However, in our culture it's highly ...inappropriate to touch them without permission."

"Why?"

"Well, for one thing, they are usually considered reproductive in nature. Part of how our males tend to be attracted to females biologically. Touching another's genitals without the other's consent, especially outside of a mating context, is..." he struggled with the words, not having his palmpad conveniently at hand. He settled for "dishonorable," hoping it would get the point across.

"I have also noticed that your genitals are much more external, and therefore more accessible. In your entertainment programs there seem to be plentiful displays of the female body, but few of the males. I also have not seen references to the restrictions on mating you seem to suggest there are."

"I had an interesting conversation about mating at dinner last night, with Urish'tal, Mordesh, and Rayta," he said. "I understand that your people consider reproductive mating to be a separate thing from building a permanent emotional bond with someone. We combine the two. As you said, we are a very solitary people. Therefore, when we choose to break that solitude and share ourselves intimately with another, both emotionally and physically, we take it seriously. For someone to just reach out and touch the physical without the emotional bonding or at least permission first, is considered inappropriate."

"I see," she responded, nodding.

"I have a question," he told her. "One that would be awkward among my own kind normally, but we're on the subject, so please don't be offended if it is also an awkward one for you."

"You can ask me anything, Kevan," she told him. "I expect that you might sometimes have some difficult questions. I hope that I can ask you similarly awkward ones."

"Yes, you may," he nodded. "My question is this - do the Rich'ti ever mate purely for pleasure?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, tilting her head.

"For humans, mating is a very physically pleasurable experience. Enough so, that we often do it without any intent or desire to reproduce, but purely for the physical satisfaction."

"I have read that you have ways to prevent reproduction," she said, "but I have never understood why you would wish to do so. We do not mate purely for pleasure. Among my kind, mating is intended for reproduction. We would not mate with someone we were not willing to concieve a child with. Permanent emotional bonding is something else entirely, and is really only done later in life. Such emotional bonding would not be done as wisely if done earlier, and is never based on how much physical pleasure one could have with another, though mating is still practiced among the elders as a way to show the children how to properly treat one another once they are of an age to begin mating themselves."

"Okay, there's another thing," Kevan tried to explain, "To start with, the entertainment programs aren't the best representations of us. They aren't designed to be accurate. For one big example, while mating might be shown there often enough, it isn't something that's done where others can see it, especially children."

"Then how do they learn about it?"

"Sometimes parents discuss it openly, sometimes once the children grow up they learn by doing. There's a wide variety. You see, culturally we aren't even really one people. There are a number of what you might call sub-cultures. Some groups have claimed different colonies so that they can practice their own beliefs by themselves.

There's a long history for us of a group going off to be separate from the others. Often it has been because of different religious beliefs, and sometimes for cultural differences. One colony, for example, has strict religious views on interactions with other cultures, has forbidden technology, and has several behavioral laws."

"With no technology, how will they defend themselves against the Brey-hahd?"

"They are totally against violence. They wouldn't defend themselves, because they view any violence, even in self-defense, as wrong. Fortunately for them they are at the other end of our space from the Brey-hahd, so we don't intend them to reach that far.

"On the other hand, there is a colony where coverings are considered completely optional. Mating might happen in some public places, but still not anywhere that children might be present. The planet I'm from, and most of the others, fall somewhere in between the different extremes."

"Why is it that your kind don't wish for children to see your mating rituals?"

He thought for a moment as he washed the front of one of her legs. She stood up and moved a little way from the mat.

"Here, this should make it easier. We normally stand for washing, but it would not have been as easy for you to reach," she told him.

"Yes, thank you," he replied.

"I think that it mostly has to do with the children mimicking the adults," he finally answered. "They should not be mating until they are old enough to care for the children that might be produced from the mating."

"I suppose that is another large difference between us," she said. "You feel the need to keep your children with you even if you are too young or too busy to give them all of your attention. I have trouble understanding this. Our elders care for our children. They have the wisdom from years of living that they can bestow upon our young. And it is a whole community that raises them, so the children have the benefit of many elders to teach them."

"I cannot speak from experience on this," he told her, "but human parents have a bond with their children that makes them want to keep them close and make sure they are safe. I've been told by many mothers especially, that there is a deep connection between them and their child. I believe they feel that it gives them better insight to the needs of the child than someone who hasn't been there from birth. Then again, I've heard that parents who..." he searched for an equivallent to the word 'adopt'. "Parents who do raise another's child can develop a similar bond to them too. And, that the bond is not always present in every parent."

"You say there are some who do raise children that are not their own? Why is that?" she asked him.

"There are some couples who cannot have children of their own for one reason or another, usually medical," he told her. "But they still want to have children in their lives. There are also some couples who know that the child would be better off with different parents, or didn't mean to conceive at all. They would give their child to an agency who would find an appropriate couple to raise the child."

"Why would they think the child should have different parents?"

"Perhaps they don't have enough money to feed the child, or they live in a dangerous area," he answered. "Sometimes it is because they are too young to really raise a child. Sometimes children are taken away from a parent who punishes their child more harshly than our culture believes is appropriate. There are many reasons why a couple might not raise their own child. But there are always parents out there hoping that one of these children will be given to them, so that they can love it as their own." He found himself leaving out the concept of rape for later. He was starting to get the feeling that it was something Sarsh'ta would have some difficulty understanding.

"Do your children mimick the elders that teach them?" he asked, circling back to an earlier question he wanted to address.

"Of course!" she replied. "It is considered a healthy sign when the young begin to mimick those around them. It is encouraged, and shows that they are learning even before they have begun to speak."

"So then the early teaching is by groups of elders, and then there's probably a more formal schooling after that, right?"

"More or less. Children are raised singly and in groups at the same time. There will be a group of them raised more or less together. But each child will spend a certain amount of time each day with just one elder, learning about different roles and occupations within our society. Or it will be tutoring in a subject the child is having difficulty with.

"Childhood is the time with Rich'ti are given the most leniency. In the beginning they are helped when they stumble. As they get older, it is expected that they will find their weaknesses and work to correct them."

"So, aside from children and adults and elders, are there social groups with their own group identities and roles?"

Sarsh'ta leaned her head to one side, tilting one ear slightly away from him. Kevan interpreted it as a thoughtful look, and she did pause before answering.

"I am not sure how best to explain it. Rich'ti are not as much judged by the group they belong in as much as their position within that group. Status and social standing are judged for each individual.

"Within a group of ten might be ten levels of standing, a hierarchy of sorts. The members of that group determine amongst themselves who defers to who. There will always be one of more prominence, and then the rest will compete to be next in line, on down to the one at the bottom, who will be given the more menial tasks until he or she can prove worthy of better.

"Members of one group would compare their positions to the relative position of members of another group. One naturally defers to one in a higher relative position in another group, unless one can demonstrate superiority in one way or another. In the end, all status is relative to each individual. Things aboard ship get more competitive because of the close proximity for longer times. In a city, for example, one is less likely to keep encountering the same Rich’ti from other groups, so there is less need to determine cross-group status.

“I stand in a unique role on the ship. I am the only government representative here, so my position is less clear. I will have a certain amount of authority until I overstep it and the captain is forced to intervene. After that any are fair to question my authority."

"If two Rich'ti are from very different occupations, how can you tell which is higher ranking?" Kevan asked.

"Well, for one, every job is important," she explained. "We recognize that. But certain jobs are more difficult to do or require more education before they can be performed. In many ways, the harder it is to accomplish the more status one has when they have achieved it. The longer a single Rich'ti can maintain a high ranking position, the more respect they earn from the community as a whole."

"You make it sound as if your job is at risk of being taken from you at any time," he asked, confused. He finished combing the last bit of one foot and realized he had done all the washing. He set the sponge and comb aside and picked up the finer comb. She sat down on the mat again, and he moved back to start at the top of her head as he had done before. He carefully began combing the soft hair out, noting that it became even softer in the process.

"Technically, it is," she admitted. "There is the possibility that one of my colleagues could take my position from me and become the one you deal directly with. However, most of them understand that it would not be a prudent thing to do at this time. Among the scholarly communities, challenges are often made once a project has ended, so that the project itself will not be disrupted by a change of command. Or, if it seems as if the one running the project is making poor decisions, a challenge could be made with the intent to save the project. In most communities, there are similar unwritten rules. There are always those who make challenges when it is not appropriate. It is fairly common that they do not manage to hold positions of authority for very long though. Not only will someone take the position away from them, but they will not earn any respect from those who rank below them if they refuse to wait until a prudent time to do so."

"How is such a challenge made?" Kevan found that the combing was easier this time than it had been before. Few tangles remained after the washing and previous combing, so most of the hair could be combed out rather quickly.

"So, explain something to me then," he asked her. "Yesterday, when Rek'at demanded my seat, was that a challenge?"

"I believe that Rek'at was merely trying to imply that he ranked higher than you. He treated you as if your rank was inferior to his. Because Trorkash intervened, he proved little. It is known that you need to learn our ways. I have made it clear to Agronet that Rek'at's actions were petty at best."

"I see," he thought for a moment while he combed. "How am I going to prove my standing here? I don't think I'm as physically strong as the average Rich'ti."

"Most challenges don't come down to brute strength," she explained. "If one becomes physical, you will find it to be more like your wresting or boxing. You will want to stay fit and quick on your feet. Your background with Gravball ought to help you get through it. That was another point in your favor when choosing you."

"Most of the time it will be how you handle yourself in negotiations that will help determine your status," she continued. "How your government responds to the requests you put through to them, and how you handle discussions with our government. How quickly you learn to adapt to our ways will likely be viewed as well. We've never had an alien visitor before, much less arranged for any trade or alliance with one. There is no precedent for any of this yet. You and I will hopefully set that precedent."

She exhaled in a manner that seemed to Kevan like a heavy sigh.

"How bad will it be for you if I fail?" he asked. He stopped combing to come around and look at her directly again. "How much of your career is depending on this?"

"I have put myself in a very prominent position to do this," she replied, meeting his eyes. "A lot of Rich'ti know my name now, and what I am doing. If this falls apart, I will probably lose most of my status, if not all of it. The most important thing I must ask is that you do not lie to us, or try to deceive us in any way Kevan. My people are very suspicious right now. Most don't believe that you will negotiate fairly and honestly. If you lie to us, your lie becomes my own. You will be sent back to your people, negotiations will come to an end, and I will take on the punishment for your crime."

"I don't have any intentions on lying or decieving you, but that hardly seems fair!" he exclaimed. "I am responsible for my actions, not you."

"It is what I have agreed to, in order to bring you here, Kevan. It is what I am willing to do in the hopes that together our people can defeat the Brey-hahd."

He finished the remainder of the combing in silence, thinking on some of the answers he was getting. It's survival of the fittest, he concluded privately. The strongest of the pack leads. But what happens to the weakest? Among animals, they are left behind or become easy prey. And it's not just about physical strength here. It seems as if intellect and moral strength are measured too. The physical and intellectual I can understand, but the moral requires that I understand what they consider to be right or wrong.

He found himself thinking of the Nostretta. The bird-like race was not specifically at war with humankind, but tension was high and trade treaties impossible. The Nostretta had seemed an interesting match when they had first been met. Their science team had arrived to study a planet that a human expedition was already researching. Initial contact had gone well, and both sides had sent ambassadors to the planet to conduct negotiations for friendly relations. Then, their mating season began, and negotiations had come to a screeching halt as the human ambassadors looked on in horror.

Initial details had been that the Nostretta were a small-numbered race, due to breeding 'difficulties' that had remained undisclosed. Each Nostretta had both male and female genitals. When mating season began, they went into heat like animals, each one seeking out another to perform the female portion of the mating process. The trouble was, the process of bearing children killed the Nostretta when the young began to eat their way out of the mother after a certain amount of gestation had passed. The death was slow - the young seemed to know not to eat anything vital until they were breaking free. Thus, none of the Nostretta actually wanted to bear children. So when mating season began, they would become all but homicidal, attempting to beat one another into submission to lay their seed. Once they had succeeded and were no longer in heat, a Nostretta would go into hiding to prevent the same thing from happening to them.

After seeing this, human scientists jumped in with suggestions on how they might be able to breed without death or resorting to violence. The offer of help was seen as offensive by the Nostretta, who responded by brutally murdering every human on the planet. Messages were sent warning the humans away, stating that any human who attempted to come into Nostretta space would be killed, and their flesh fed to the Nostretta young. If it weren't for the timing of the Brey-hahd attacks on the outer colonies, Kevan felt sure that war would have started with the Nostretta instead. The reports he had read suggested that the Nostretta found nothing wrong with their mating 'ritual' except for while it was actually happening. There had been an outrage over it by the human community, who'd found it to be barbaric in nature, causing the scientific scramble to offer alternatives in the first place.

He wondered if he'd find anything amongst the Rich'ti that would offend humanity so much that it could damage negotiations. He worried more that the Rich'ti would be offended by Human ways. Their isolation seemed to make them less able to comprehend the reasons why anyone would do things differently than the Rich'ti did. Sarsh'ta was a noted exception.

He finished the last of the combing and realized he'd managed to make it through the entire process without being embarassed by it. He resolved himself to try to be as similarly distracted while the tables were turned.

"Let me get fresh water, then I shall bathe you next," Sarsh'ta told him, taking the bowl from the desk. "On the planet, this is done in a shallow pool of water that cycles fresh into it, but on ships we must make do with bowls instead. I will return in a moment." He nodded silently and she left the room. It did not take her very long to return.

He remained standing while she moved behind him to start on his hair. She tended to it just like he had tended to her fur. The last time someone else had washed his hair was for his last haircut. That had been an impersonal, nearly mechanical act. This was much more personal. Her movements all had a very deliberate, almost ritualistic quality to them.

“Your hair is odd,” she said.

“Oh?”

“Yes. In our fur we have different kinds of hairs. There are shorter, finer ones for insulating, and longer, thicker hairs to, in essence, protect the rest--to help resist rain, for one. Obviously during seasonal changes the ratio of one to the other changes. Your hair, on the other hand, is. Well, for one the hairs on your head are different from what little you have on the rest of your body. All the hair on your head is the same kind.”

“Different evolutional adaptations, I guess,” he said, trying to ignore her comparing the hair around his body.

The rest of his body she washed similarly to how her abdomen had been washed. First the wet sponge and then again with a dry one.

“These are reproductive parts, aren’t they?” she asked when she got to them.

“Yes,” he said, pointedly keeping eye contact. There’s nothing sexual or erotic going on,he reminded himself, just like a medical exam.

“Ours remain internal when not in use. Doesn’t having this dangle out make it more susceptible to injury.”

“And that right there would be a good part of the reasons for the coverings we wear.”

He gritted his teeth, trying to think of anything other than his current situation as she gently sponged him clean. It didn't help that the soft fur on the back of her hands kept brushing against his thighs while she did.

"They seem especially sensitive," she commented. "Don't the coverings chafe as well?"

"It's been theorized that the sensitivity helps keep us interested in mating," he answered. "The covering I wear directly over that area is softer, and keeps other coverings from rubbing against the area and chafing."

"I see," she said. She continued down, washing his thighs and buttocks next. He kept reminding himself that she was an alien and trying to think of the situation in more clinical terms, to keep from having to make more embarrassing explanations.

"This is making you exceptionally uncomfortable," she suddenly said in a questioning voice.

"The last time anyone washed me," he explained, trying not to let a visual of the woman enter his mind, "was as um... at the beginning of a mating ritual. Otherwise, it is not something we commonly do unless someone is injured and unable to bathe themselves."

"I thought mothers washed their children. Could you not think of this in that context?"

"I am trying to, but in our culture mothers stop washing thier children once the children are capable of bathing themselves. It has been a very long time since my own mother bathed me."

"They must be very sensitive indeed to cause so much complication and embarrassment," she said, inspecting his genitals again. He gritted his teeth again, not having expected further contact. She saw his expression and let go, returning to washing the rest of his legs instead.

"I am sorry," she told him. "I did not mean for this to be so difficult for you."

"I am sure it will become routine soon enough," he reassured her. "My discomfort comes from being unaccustomed to it is all. My people usually bathe daily. If it is no trouble to do so, we can have plenty of opportunity for me to be more comfortable with this before we reach the planet."

"I have fewer duties on this ship than the rest of the crew. Although I do help out, and I am expected to do so, I am mainly a passenger here, like you. We can...practice this as often as you like. I agree that you will need to become fairly comfortable with it before planetfall."

"Thank you for being so patient with me," he said, frowning. All this trouble and we're not even there yet...

"Fortunately I understand more about your people than most of mine do, so I understand the need for patience. I think that you and I understand each other at least relatively well. We both have the same motivations. We both want this to work. That will not be the case with everyone you meet."

"Okay, so some will probably want me to fail. That's usually the case with diplomatic matters. There's always some other agenda. What would be the primary motivations for this?"

"The first alien race we encountered was the Drorash."

"--The who? I don't think I've heard of them before."

"The Drorash are now extinct. They were a bizarre race with a culture most races found difficult to understand, or in some cases tolerate. When we met them we had only just colonized our second star system. They came and orbited the colony and introduced themselves.

"What no one knew at the time, not even the Drorash, was that they were carrying an extremely contagious disease. Their religious and mating practices involved sharing blood with each other very frequently. It both spread the disease and somehow managed to delay its incubation.

"It was also an airborne disease, however. In us, without the constant infusions of blood for the disease to counter, it incubated and reached its maturity. Within months every Rich'ti on the colony had died. The planet has since become safe to live on. The disease requires a level of biological complexity beyond the native fauna. But still we do not go there.

"Ever since that encounter, we have minimized contact with other races. It isn't that we fear other races will have the same effect. It is more that we cannot entirely predict what other effects there might be. With each race we encounter we see traits and histories that only encourage isolationism. So far human-kind has been less objectionable than most. Also times have changed. People are more receptive to new ideas. And then there are the Brey-hahd."

"Though we may be fiercely competitive, we also understand the importance of teamwork," she continued. "Many tasks could be performed by one individual, but the work will go more quickly and be more enjoyable when done by a team. The inclusion of more minds can also bring further innovations to better the methods of performing the task. I used this point on several occasions to make others understand the importance of contacting other races battling the Brey-hahd. Humans are the only other race we know of that are in direct conflict with them at the moment. Which is why I was the one making the speeches in the first place, of course. I have studied other races as well, but Humans have always been my primary interest."

"Why?" he asked. "What is it about us that has kept your attention over other races?" He tried to be casual about crossing the room and getting fresh clothes from one of the drawers. He slipped into a comfortable pair of pants and a casual short-sleeved shirt. He didn't worry about socks or shoes just yet, but followed by sitting across from her on the fur mat while she explained.

"You are not to different from us on the overall scope of things, actually," she said. "Your biology is a bit different, but there are many similarities. You birth your young instead of laying eggs, for example. You have a similar enough bone, muscle and circulatory structure to ours that it makes you seem less alien than other races. And then there is your emotions."

"Our emotions?" he asked, surprised. "Most races I've met have emotions. I don't understand."

"I'd have to say it is mostly your sense of humor that has always attracted me," she admitted. "It is not too unlike our own in many instances. You find humor in situations that could otherwise seem displeasant. Humans are stubborn and unwilling to give up or lose hope when the odds seem to be against them. These traits have always appealed to me. Especially now, when we are losing ground to the Brey-hahd. There has been much talk of surrender if the Brey-hahd get to a certain point. I want to believe that I can bring some human stubborness and hope to my people by bringing them together with yours. I want to believe that we are a strong enough race to win against the Brey-hahd. Strong enough to admit that we need help, when we are a people who believe that if you cannot do a job you should step back and follow another. From what I've heard, surrendering to the Brey-hahd is not an option. They only take slaves for as long as they strip the planet of its resources. After that, they kill them. They will only destroy us if we let them."

"I am sorry," she sighed. "I keep coming back to the war, when we are trying to cover ground on cultural differences so you will understand us better. I don't mean to keep getting off the topic."

"Not at all," he assured her. "I think it is just as important that I know what is going on with the Brey-hahd as it is for me to know about the Rich'ti ways. The Brey-hahd threat is the main reason I am here, from what I'm understanding. And my government is not yet aware of just what the Brey-hahd intend. They have not reached one of our planets yet. I have to warn them as well. It will actually help with negotiations, however. They will be more interested in allying themselves solidly against a common enemy, which will make many things easier in the end. I am hoping that my reports to them will help ease their suspicions of you. Your isolationism has made them believe you have something sinister to hide from us. I hope to convey the inaccuracy of that assumption."

"Yes, I suppose that a people who know deceit amongst themselves would worry that another race might keep secrets from them," she mused. "Especially when so many of the races do seem to be keeping secrets from each other."

"And yet there are large parts of your library denied to me," he interjected. "For example, I can't access anything about where your various colonies are."

"That's a security issue, I suppose."

"Yes, well, among other races that's not so different from 'keeping secrets'."

"Point taken."

The intercom panel chimed. "Sarsh'ta, come to the bridge right away." It was Agronet's voice.

"Excuse me, I must go," she apologized.

She rose gracefully and took the bowl with her when she left without another word.

Kevan stood with less grace, and grabbed up his palmpad to tap more notes into. Sarsh'ta had some duties on the ship, instead of being purely a passenger. He wondered if there wasn't some way that he could pitch in. It would give him something to do, a chance at some more social interaction, and maybe it would help the others see him as more than just an alien passenger.

He was able to rule out the medical bay. No, something small. He shrugged to himself and headed for the mess hall. Maybe there was something there he could help with.

He did not see Rosh'tur working anymore, but instead two other Rich'ti were busily cooking in the center of the room, amongst the various equipment. Since he was the only other person in the room, it did not take them long to notice him, and they seemed to exchange a look before one of them, a male, came over to the area of table where Kevan stood waiting.

"What do you need? It is not time for the meal yet. Do you need food?" Kevan noticed that the male was speaking somewhat loudly and choosing the most simple of words. He was suddenly reminded of people who would shout at blind people, as if their hearing was impaired as well, and barely managed to supress a sigh.

"I am trying to learn about various aspects of your culture," he tried, "and would be interested in learning more about the various dishes you prepare. I was hoping I might be able to help with some of the cooking in order to gain first-hand experience with the different foods?"

The Rich'ti looked surprised by the request.

"I do not know if that would be acceptable. I will make an inquiry and someone will let you know when you return for the next meal." The Rich'ti turned and walked back to the center, leaving no opportunity for argument. Kevan realized that he hadn't even gotten the Rich'ti's name. Frustrated, he turned and headed back out into the hallway. He headed back to the library instead of his room, to spend the remainder of the time until lunch doing research. He spent most of the time accessing as much information as he could on Rich'ti foods and how they were prepared. He was also able to get some details on the various equipment he had seen in the mess hall as well.

When he heard the double chime for the meal hour he closed out the data screens he had open and hopped to his feet. He made his way to the mess hall hoping he had something to look forward to.

The same two were there again. Kevan waited a moment and took a place at the end of the line that was being served one it looked like Rich'ti were done filtering in. He didn't want to put himself in a position where a male behind him might feel the need to assert himself by pushing Kevan out of the way.

"You again," the male said when Kevan reached him.

"Shurgrec, right?" Kevan said, thinking he recognized the sausage soup dish. "Half a serving, please." He was careful not to smile the grin he felt on the inside. The male gave him a suprised look that turned suspicious.

"I said I had come to learn, didn't I? Has there been any word about my request?" he asked, changing the subject deliberately.

"Yes. Rosh'tur has ...volunteered to allow you to assist her," the male said as he slopped a ladle of soup into the bowl. "On the first night shift," he added with what Kevan thought was a sneer.

Kevan paused a moment, calculating. Most races seemed to divide ship time into either three or four watch rotations. The twenty-hour Rich'ti day divided neatly by four. He counted out in his head trying to calculate.

"So in about six hours, then?"

"Yes."

Kevan thanked him and took his bowl to sit and eat, relieved that he had guessed the right time of day. If I can get used to waking up at different times of their day all the time I can do this, he thought as he picked an empty spot with room around it that he hoped wouldn't encroach on anyone else's space.

He felt some relief when he saw Sarsh'ta enter the mess hall and head directly towards him. She stopped briefly for a bowl of food, and he was surprised to see her bypass the line entirely and demand a bowl be brought to her directly. He saw the male Rich'ti look at her with a suspicious and calclating look before bringing her the shurgrec and returning to serving the others at the line. Kevan noticed that a few others in the room were watching Sarsh'ta. He didn't know whether to be relieved that they weren't all eyeing him, or concerned that the attention seemed to have been diverted to his one sure ally amongst them.

"Something wrong?" he asked tenatively, between mouthfuls of soup. He tried to sound casual, and not let the worry edge his voice.

"Agronet has challenged me on a decision. You will have to carry one of these while on the ship." She handed him a small wristband. He had seen that she wore one, but hadn't paid much attention to it. It was mostly hidden by the fur on her arms, but he had seen it during the bathing. He hadn't thought to comment on it then, having been distracted by other topics of conversation. Now, he looked over the small circlet of metal with what appeared to be a magnetic latch to close it.

"What is it?" he finally asked, before slipping it into place around his wrist and closing the latch.

"It is a locator band," she replied. "It is so that any crewmember can be found if they are needed at any given point. As you are not a member of this crew, I saw no reason for you to wear one. Especially since the ship's internal sensors have been able to make the distinction between human and Rich'ti ever since your initial medical scan was downloaded."

"I see," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't realize the scans were for anything more than medical reasons."

"Neither had I. Agronet, however, considers you a security risk. He also seems to feel the need to impress himself upon this crew for the duration of his post to this ship. I had hoped to avoid to avoid some of this. I've found that I'm usually less likely to be challenged by someone I'm mating with."

Kevan couldn't help but spit out the soup in his mouth in astonishment.

"You're mating with him?" he asked, once he'd regained some composure.

"He chose me, Kevan," she replied, unphased. "I did not refuse. I thought it might ease things if I simply accepted. He is a strong male, I would be glad to bear his child. He is, however, a difficult one to deal with on a professional level."

"But doesn't that automatically put you in a position beneath him?" he wondered aloud.

"No, Kevan. If anything, it puts me in a higher position with the rest of the crew, as their ranking officer considers me worthy of bearing his offspring. Until today, I was easily maintaining a level position with him on this ship because of it."

"You see," he tried to clarify, "we humans feel it is a really bad idea to mix sex and politics. It makes things far more complicated for everyone when it happens."

"You humans also cannot seem to separate mating from affection, Kevan. I am mating with Agronet. I am not, as you would put it, in love with him."

"Okay, right," he said, still somewhat astonished at her admission. "I don't mind wearing the bracelet if it helps show that I am not a security risk."

"It's the principal of it," she said. "I made a decision. He has overturned it. That leaves me open to potential challenge by other crew members now, regardless of my current mating involvement. I will need to impress myself on the other crew in order to maintain my status here."

"It sounds a bit like a constant struggle. Doesn't the constant competition sometimes get in the way?"

"Now and then, perhaps. But it does encourage individual excellence. I have read that among your kind there are those who are supported by society yet contribute nothing. Those who are perfectly capable, that is."

"I suppose it would-- That's... not the same. We do have a a social welfare system, although it is not at all very widely used. There are times when people have needs, either after a disaster of some kind, or due to temporary unemployment. We take care of our people in times of need. And we also care for our elderly."

"As do we. The elderly were not what I was talking about. In your past in particular there have been many periods where large number of people subsisted solely on the support of others. Our culture has little room for those who cannot provide their own means with either a skill, or a trade, or labor.

"Your government has an office where people can go to request assistance, and they are cared for at the expense of the general public. To a Rich'ti, this would be devastatingly humiliating. Not being able to support one's self suggests terrible weakness. Major injury would be one exception, but even then most will work around an injury before admitting defeat."

"Then admitting that you're not winning against the Brey-hahd, and contacting another race for any kind of help must be very difficult. I can see why some of you would see my presence ...an embarrassment?"

"Technically, yes," she nodded. "But I have managed to convince my government that it is far less embarassing to build a relationship with another race than it is to be defeated by the Brey-hahd. There are some who have already accepted a defeat as probable and just want to die with dignity. Others are searching for ways to win on our own, rather than admit we need help. Fortunately, I have managed to convince our leader and a majority of his council that allying ourselves with your kind is a viable option. It helps that the current Takor is unwilling to leave any chances when it comes to our survival. He is entertaining a lot of ideas right now that would otherwise be unheard of."

"Such as?" Kevan wondered what could possibly seem more strange to them than himself.

"I'm not at liberty to say right now. Many of the things have not yet been disclosed to the general public for security reasons. While we rely on the communications networks of other races to know what they are doing, we do not wish the Brey-hahd to do the same to us. And while I might trust that you have no intent to deceive us, the majority of the council would rather be more cautious."

"I understand," he said.

"I don't remember 'cooking' as one of the highlights on your profile, Kevan," she said, abruptly changing the subject. "So why the sudden interest?"

"I am capable enough at it, I've been living alone for most of my adult life and managed to feed myself," he laughed. "Mostly it seemed a good way to start. You just said that Rich'ti have little room for those who cannot provide their own means. It also gives me a chance to interact with more Rich'ti than just you. I do need to have a feel for how I will be received when negotiations begin."

"Besides," he continued, "I can only spend so much time reading the news and encyclopedia entries when you have other duties. I need some duties of my own to break up the monotony of space travel."

"You had also mentioned having duties on the ship, not being 'just a passenger'," he continued. "I'd rather have some way to contribute. Otherwise I'm just going to end up feeling in the way. And if I can help avoid others seeing me that way then that's a good thing."

"Well, you were given to the least desirable shift."

"That depends entirely on perspective, and brings me to a question for you. How much time to Rich'ti spend sleeping?"

"Most often about nine hours a day. Some get by with as little as eight, some take closer to ten."

"Out of a twenty hour day."

"Yes."

"You see, in our twenty-four hour day, most sleep seven or eight. So I'd need about five of your hours for every sixteen of your hours. I'm guessing what would work best for me would end up being, from your perspective, a four hour night with maybe a two hour nap during the day. I don't know how well I'd be able to adapt to your sleep cycles. If nothing else, it means that I can adjust my sleeping schedule to fit any five-hour duty watch."

"So you only spend a third of your day sleeping? I wasn't aware of that."

"Some humans would see spending half your life asleep as wasted time."

"Our bodies require a certain amount of sleep," she replied. "Besides that, we are of the belief that we can perform our duties to the best of our abilities if we have had the appropriate amount of rest time. There is also the dreaming."

"Dreaming?"

"Yes. We believe that sleep is the time when our inner self can meditate and reflect. It is one time when we are truely at peace with ourselves while we are still in this living form. Dreaming is considered a sign of a successful meditation."

"Interesting," he said, pushing his nearly empty bowl aside and grabbing his palmtop from his pocket. "Some of human cultures have been known to incorporate dreaming in a similar framework. Some have even based their entire religious philosophy off of it, actually. Is there other things the Rich'ti believe in..." he looked up a word. "in concordance with this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what do you think happens to you when you die, for example? Is there any specific religion amongst the Rich'ti?" He realized that the fact they had a word for 'religion' suggested that they might have one. He'd noticed that religious beliefs were often the breaking point between two races. Human had fared well with this, however, because they had so many varied beliefs amongst themselves already. It was often easy to send someone of a similar enough belief to be the diplomat with another race. He'd always marvelled at how two races could develop independently and yet end up coming to nearly the same understanding when it came to explaining the purpose of life and what happens at the end of it. Usually the major difference of opinion was in how life originally began. Humans were the only race so far to believe in the existence of a god or gods.

"When we die we reach a final state of peace," she told him. "we become one with the stars. Some believe we become one with the entire universe."

"Are there some who believe differently?"

"There are a few slight variations of belief, but we all understand the same fundamentals," she replied.

"Gasses come together to form stars which eventually die and create other gasses. Our bodies are formed out of the same matter, and when we die our bodies decay back into that matter." She paused for a moment before continuing, "And we have a spirit, which is one tiny piece of a greater whole. We take what we experience and what we do back to the whole with us when we die.

"The universe is made up of our experiences and deeds. If we are generally good, then the universe will be a good place. If we are bitter and hateful, then the universe can be a dark and evil place. We believe that both good and evil exist, and that there will always be both. As we have ventured into the stars and met other races, some have been concerned that other races have not been doing their part to create balance."

"So to balance out the wicked aliens you have to be better, right?" Kevan teased.

"I might not have said it exactly like that... There is more to it than that, but I have never been very religious. I don't think I'm the one to explain it best. There are temples in the capital. Perhaps you should visit them after you've had some time to settle in when we arrive. They are beautiful, peaceful places. I have read about some temples and ...monasteries on Earth that might not be terribly dissimilar."

"I'll end up spending some library time on the subject first, but definitely."

"You are spending much of your free time at the library then?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. "I'm trying to fill in the blanks and get some of the basics out of the way at least. I like to have a working knowledge of something before I start jumping headlong into it. There wasn't a whole lot more than language in the package that was sent to us. I learned to speak and read your language with the aid of a few linguistic experts, but little was mentioned on cultural aspects of the Rich'ti."

"I must apologize for that," she nodded. "When we put the package together, my colleagues and I were given strict instructions to keep it very basic and give you enough to be able to speak to us, and read our writings. We had a short time to put it together as it was. Including more would have been both difficult and politically complicated. I am actually quite impressed that you were able to achieve such a level of mastery in such a short time."

"The linguists were very impressed with what we had to work with, actually," he admitted. "We were able to get most of the basics of speaking Rich'ti down in the first month. After that, we purposely only spoke to each other in Rich'ti and began work on the written aspect. Most languages seem to have some fundamentals in sentence structure and grammar. Once those fundamentals have been learned it starts getting easier. I've always had a..." he sighed, momentarily wishing they had a word for 'knack' in Rich'ti. "an ability to learn languages with some ease," he finished.

"So there are already other humans with a similar mastery of the language then?" she tilted her head curiously.

"Three others actually. The top three experts in linguistics involving alien languages and dialects." He listed their names off in succession. "They will be taking what they've learned and teaching others who might be involved with negotiations, as well as updating the computer program we use to help translate for those who won't have time to learn."

"Some of the others will be impressed at how quickly your people are understanding our language."

"Well, it does help that you only have the one," he pointed out. "Because we have so many languages, we're more accustomed to learning others."

"I suppose that would be the case."

They chatted for a while before Rich'ti started filtering out. They headed to the exercise facility, which was largely empty. She showed him how most of the equipment worked while they compared physiology and which equipment would work properly enough for him and which would not.

Even Sarsh'ta was stronger than he was, he noticed with some disappointment. She was, like most Rich'ti, also more agile than he was as well. He did note that their center of gravity was higher proportionally, so his wrestling experience would be useful if he found himself needing it.

Some of the exercises he couldn't do properly because he was still recovering. As they talked he gathered the impression that they recovered from injury faster. It seemed like the longer they talked the more things there were that Rich'ti inherently did better.

Stamina was one place where it seemed humanity could keep up with, and it appeared the Rich'ti were less philosophical by nature than humans. His time on the debate team at university would likely come in handy, he concluded. Our strengths are our adaptability and creativity and intellectualism.

He was fairly sure he concealed his thinking from her well enough. She didn't seem to catch on to the conclusions he was coming to. If nothing else their expressions were different enough that his were likely just as much a mystery to her as her expressions and gestures were to him.

The time passed quickly, and he stopped on several occasions to tap quick notes into his palmtop. He knew he'd have to go in later and elaborate further, but gave himself enough to jog his memory on the things he specifically wanted to make note of for himself or in his report. He had initally planned to take a nap before the dinner chime, but was unwilling to forgo the chance to learn more from Sarsh'ta while she was available to him.

By the time the dinner bell chimed, they had gone back to his room and he had changed clothes in front of her without it even occurring to him to be embarassed. Between the bathing ritual from before and the intent conversation they were having, he hardly even realized what he was habitually doing until he was in fresh clothes. He chuckled inwardly at that, reassured that he might find the future bathing rituals less awkward after all.

He filled her in on some details and questions she had about Humans as well. That discussion spilled over into dinner, where an interesting point of contention came up.

"I have heard of these creatures you call dogs," she told him. "I understand you enslave them and keep them in your homes?"

"Yes. I had one myself. They are not slaves though, they are..." he couldn't find a Rich'ti word in his palmpad, and ended up using the human word for it, "pets. They live in our homes with us and we care for them and treat them as if they were members of the family," he explained.

"Do they wish this?"

"I don't know. They seem to like it well enough. They are not sentient as you and I are, so they cannot say it in words. My own dog is very affectionate though."

"Are these not wild animals normally?"

"Yes," he replied, nodding. "Although the ones we keep in our homes are tame. They would be unlikely to survive in the wild nowadays."

"Then why did you not allow them to remain free in the first place instead of confining them? This practice has always seemed very cruel to me. Why would you take a creature's freedom away like that? You also have something where you put animals into cages so that humans can come and stare at them while they are trapped. It sounds horrible!"

"No, it's not like that. For one thing, the cages are set up as proper habitats, not just a box. A lot of the animals would have ended up extinct otherwise. They're cared for and treated well, and given conditions to best approximate their wild conditions.

"And in the last ...hundred years or so," he said, not finding a specific word for century even in his palmpad, "we've been setting more and more land aside for wilderness preserves, returning it to it's natural states."

"That's another thing that doesn't make sense to us. We live in concert--in harmony with our environment. Your kind is controlling and destructive to the planets you live on. You have so many words for different kinds of 'pollution'... something we don't have so specific a word for."

"Most of the races we've encountered have gone through a similar industrialistic phase," he countered. "We're hardly unique in that aspect."

"Just because other races do something doesn't make it good."

"I didn't mean to say pollution was a good thing. It isn't. It's one of those mistakes that we didn't understand at the time. We're still working on cleaning it up, and if you look at our colonies in contrast to Earth you'll see it's not a pattern that's continuing."

"When we first started to industrialize," she said, leaning forward, "we worked with the natural laws. Yes, we burned fuels for power, but from the beginning we supplemented. We harnessed wind and water and solar energy. I have read about human energy consumption, about the kinds of energy processing done just to create heat--an amazingly wasteful process.

"In the earlier parts of our history the land and air and water were all sacred to us. We came from it, and we return to it, just as with the stars in the sky. We cared for it because it was a part of us, a part of who we were and who we are. This is still a value we carry with us. Our ships are more efficient than yours not purely because we have the technology to do so, but because we are not wasteful.

"Forgive me, I'm talking like a male," she said. "I do understand what you are saying. I bring these points up not only because I am curious about them, but to prepare you. You will find our females will listen to what you have to say and consider it. They will ask you questions trying to understand. The males, however, will more often try to put you on the defensive, to challenge you with an argument. I believe you have the skills to counter these arguments, to debate them in a non-threatening way, and that did play a part in your selection. I just want you to be prepared for them."