

ROSETTES AND RIBBONS



by M. C. A. Hogarth


Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2010 M.C.A. Hogarth

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"And here is your new room!"
Peli glanced around, brows rising.  "Dr. Edisse, do all Aeran edifices look like huts or tents?"
The older Asanii chuckled.  "Most of them, yes. A by-product of their culture."
"Nomads, right?" she said, putting down her bag.
"You've been doing your homework."
"Oh, professor, you know I always do my homework!"
Dr. Edisse laughed again and leaned forward to put an affectionate hand on her head.  "Yes...you were always my star pupil.  But you're not a student anymore.  Forget that at your own peril!  This is the real thing we're working with now, not case studies."
Peli's gaze swept her new lodgings again, the bright fabric walls billowing lightly over the scraggly grass and rising to a rudimentary ceiling; behind her, another wall of cloth served as the separation between her mentor's room and her own.  "I don't think it's possible to forget that this is the real thing," she answered, eyes round, "we never had rooms this...err...transient at the university."
"No, that we did not," the Asanii replied, handing her a data-tablet; Peli tried to figure out which was more out of place, the long tall figure of the ruddy professor, or the slim, asthetic and technological shape of the tablet.  "Dr. La'aina is supervising the nearby archeological dig; they think they've discovered some material on some previously unknown myths concerning their religious pantheon. They've brought in her mate, Du'er to investigate.  He's a sculptor and a well-known figure in Aeran pre-historical art.  They'll be working with you; your assignment is to translate some of the writings they've unearthed.  I hope you've brushed up on your Aeran."
Peli felt her back straighten in mock indignation, "Dr. Edisse!  There wasn't a Seersa born...."
"That didn't have twenty tongues," he finished, amused, "I know the proverb.  I was just making sure you were awake."
She smiled, now in earnest, "I'll give you reason to be proud of me, sir."
The elder felid leaned over and tousled her head-hair.  "I know you will, girl...so settle in.  And remember, the local scientists are throwing us a little formal welcoming-party in a few days."
"The dinner and dance thing, right?"
"Right.  Get to it, Miss Argentson."
Peli smiled again as her mentor stepped through the divider to his half of the rectangular tent, then she turned to her bag to unpack.  First, the sleeping pad, which she had not thought would be necessary; she was glad she'd brought it anyway, since no furniture had been provided.  Did the Aera expect visitors to bring their own furniture?  Or did they sleep on the ground?
Peli shook her head, unable to fathom such a thing.  She tossed a few pillows on the ground to serve as seats in case someone came to call on her.  A low fold-out table, just large enough for her to lean her elbows on and lay her data tablets she set up beside the bed, and then the projecting mirror, a gift from her mother.  That she placed beside the table and activated with her toe, watching the slight shimmer that preceded an image of the opposite wall of the tent.  Experimentally she flicked her tail in front of it and was gratified to see a white and mottled reflection; the mirror hadn't been damaged on the trip.  She set up a light on the edge of the table and the pad for showering across from the mirror.
Some clothes, a few pieces of jewelry she hung on one of the cross-beams holding up the low ceiling, and her brushes and combs she tossed onto the table.  Edisse had recommended she bring light clothing, and she was grateful now for his foresight; Selnor had been approaching winter out of its wet and cold autumn, but this on part of Aren summer was at full.  Her coat remained in winter-length.  She thought about shearing it, but they were only staying two weeks before returning to Selnor, where she'd be glad for the long fur.
Peli kicked up the short head-board on the bed-roll and dropped onto it, propping herself up with her pillows.  Unlacing the first few stays of her tunic against the heat, the Seersa foxine nabbed her tablet to check her mail, finding nothing unusual.  A note from her parents, wondering how she was enjoying her internship...a formal notice from the alumni society of the Xenoanthropological University at Selnor, asking for contributions...some junk mail asking her to purchase this or that...the latest issue of Comparative Cultures, her professor's (and her own) favorite journal...and a short letter from Manager Tasey at the Ani branch of TKI&I, where she'd worked in her off-hours to help pay for her schooling, congratulating her on her recent graduation and thanking her for her service.  Her parents first, then Tasey, then she could sit down and enjoy CC, which noted in the byline that this issue included an article by Dr. Edisse about the pottery of the Ciracaana's Mother Cult.
Peli had just finished sending off a reply to her parents when the jingle of the hand-bells outside her tent-flap indicated a visitor.  Surprised, she put aside her data tablet and stood, hastily pulling herself into the mind-frame that the tongue of the Aera required.
"While the sands are still, come in," she said, and it was perfectly couched, her mouth negotiating the odd double vowels the Aera favored without difficulty.
Two Aera stepped in, a female and a male with a bundle.  Both were near or exceeded six feet tall if she was any judge, which made her feel self-conscious about her own short stature; the female Aera was colored a glorious bright orange and streaked across the muzzle with brown, her mouth and throat a shocking white.  Her long ears sported tufts that hung almost to the back of her head and large, golden hoop earrings with thick red stones.  The female had arresting blue eyes, the same color as the wrap around her hips that served as her only clothing, wearing her white chest hair in the heavy shag that most Aera favored.  The tiny wings at her ankles were white, tipped with brown.
Beside her, the male neared the black of space, completely lacking ventral coloration; he had a furtive air, arms easily folded against his fluffy chest-ruff, green eyes half-lidded and tiny wings folded against his legs.  His maroon wrap was shorter, more perfunctory, just as his earrings were thinner.
They were a female-dominated society, Peli remembered.  She stood straighter for the female's scrutiny that she would not be dismissed.
"You don't need to speak our tongue," the female said in a surprisingly husky voice, "We speak Universal at the digs, for the most part.  I'm Dr. La'aina, Clan Sereon, and this is my mate Du'er."
Peli shifted out of the Aeran frame of mind and switched to Universal.  "My given and family-names are Pelipenele Argentson.  I am Dr. Edisse's assistant."  To her surprise, they didn't ask if she had any other names; but it was easy to forget that hers was the special pleasure and duty of learning other cultures, not the other way around.  "I am told I will be working with you.  Is that correct?"
"Mostly with Du'er, yes; he will be correlating your translations with any works he will find.  Would you announce me to Dr. Edisse?"
"Certainly," Peli answered, determined not to be intimidated by the female.  Dr. La'aina infused her slender with so much energy and aggression that she seemed far larger than she was.  "If you'll excuse me?"
"Of course."
Peli poked her nose through the separation and found her teacher sitting on his own bed-roll, reading his data tablet.  "Dr. La'aina to see you, sir."
"Send her in."
Peli held the tent-flap back for the female Aera, letting out a breath of relief when La'aina swept through, leaving her alone.
"Pelipenele...that's quite a mouthful."
The Seersa foxine almost leapt out of her coat.  She had forgotten Du'er.  "I have an abridged-name, of course," she said, once she regained her composure.
"An 'abridged-name', is it?" he smiled at her, eyes a-sparkle, "You Seersa are so precious, with your quaint little language customs.  Will you tell me your abridged-name?  We'll be working together a great deal, and I don't fancy having to spit out five syllables whenever I want your attention.  I might take to calling you 'vixy' just for relief."
The outrageous behavior and flighty tendencies of the Aera were notorious, and usually explained away by the effects of a nomadic culture.  The Seersa supposed it was difficult to grow past the limitations of your own society, if limitations they were; nevertheless she wasn't sure if she liked his mannerisms or not.  "You should call me Peli," she said sternly, choosing her words as all her kind did with relentless accuracy.
"Peli it is, then," Du'er said, handing her his bundle, "here are the stone strips we found in the digs."
Peli unfolded one of the skins to peek at the thin, brittle slivers of stone with their scribbled markings; satisfied that they were in mostly good condition and that her assignment would be less trouble than she'd expected, she tied the bundle again and placed it gingerly on the floor beneath her work-table.  "Thank you."
"My pleasure.  Particularly since it brought me to see you."
Peli glanced at the lazy figure of the Aera male, puzzled.  "Pardon?"
"You're a jewel!  I've never seen someone so striking.  I don't suppose you'd pose for me?"
The Seersa thinned her eyes in complete bafflement.  "Pose...for you?"
"I don't suppose your Dr. Edisse told you I'm a sculptor?  You have a figure that begs for stone.  Some of that nice, white stone near the sea-cliffs the Flait hate so, the powder-stone with the sensual crystals would be just perfect."
She was speechless, for once in her life...and it wasn't just any life, but the life of a Seersa, the race that provided every premier linguist of the Alliance almost without exception, the Seersa who learned languages with all the facile ease of breathing, the Seersa who took it as a duty to have each of their number add at least five words to their native tongue in their lifetimes and encouraged citizens to add more, if they could.  And Peli could find no words.
"It would have to be in the nude, of course...such a figure!  And the coloration!  One would think you one of those barbarian Harat-Shar, except for that face.  You have such a delicate nose, beautiful Peli, beautiful Seersa."
Peli almost frothed in her desperate desire to force something out through her throat.  What was this maniac talking about?  Delicate nose?  Beautiful figure?  Her coloration?  Surely he wasn't thinking that she could possibly be the subject for a work of art...the very idea was preposterous!  She was Pelipenele...just Peli...not the next Maserinatericktal Kajentarel or Terran Venus de Milo!
The sudden cessation of the low murmur beyond the partition saved her from replying.  Dr. La'aina stepped through, followed by the familiar and comforting figure of Edisse.
"You've dropped off the strips?" La'aina demanded of Du'er.
"Of course," he answered smoothly, a smile still quirking at his mouth.  His green eyes rested on Peli, who looked away.
"Send someone to the dig when you've discovered something," La'aina said, turning to Edisse.
"I will."
La'aina exited, drawing Du'er in her wake like a magnet.  Peli deflated in sheer relief to see them go.
"You look...battered," Edisse said, smiling at her gently.
"I feel battered," Peli admitted, dropping onto her bed-roll.  "Are all Aera that...," she stopped herself from saying 'insane', "that...intense?"
"Most of the ones I've met have been, or worse, even."
"Speaker save me!" Peli exclaimed, and Edisse laughed.
"Don't let them get you down in the ears, my girl."
"Of course not, sir."
"Better.  I'll be next door if you need me.  Next door...Next flap?"  The elder Asanii shook his head, tail curling in amusement.  "No matter.  Relax a little and get some rest."
Peli nodded, watching as her mentor stepped back to his side of the tent.  She picked up her data tablet to resume her letter-writing and found she could not concentrate.  Hesitantly, as if she feared that her reflection had mystically altered in the past twenty minutes, the Seersa placed herself in front of the mirror.
Black eyes gazed back solemnly at her, set in the same lightly furred face she was accustomed to seeing every day while grooming; nothing had changed.  Peli studied herself anew, bewildered, trying to see herself with the eyes of the Aera male, but she saw nothing special.  Just the same Seersa female, the same four-foot-four, digitigrade Seersa with the long coat, the shoulder-length hair, the long cheek-ruffs...the same white body occasionally darkening to a frosty gray where ragged rosettes sprinkled themselves at random, leaving the white untouched save the one perfect black rosette that Du'er could not have seen, hidden under her tunic just beneath her left collar-bone, imprinted there like a permanent decorative pin.  No, she was no different...so what in the name of the Speaker-Singer had Du'er seen that she did not?
Shaking her head, Peli returned to her bed-roll and took up her tablet -- time enough to discover that, once she finished with the day's mail.  Then it was to work on those stone strips, a welcome promise of a mystery to be unravelled by her fingers and mind.  After that...well, she might give a slice of time to the enigmatic Aera.

#

"Are you going to eat any breakfast at all, girl?"
"Later sir.  This is a crucial piece of the text...."
Edisse's voice was bemused. "Would you mind translating, Miss Argentson?"
"Pardon? Oh!"  Peli shook herself; so engrossed had she been in the myth that she had spoken in Aeran, not in Universal.  "I'm sorry, sir.  It's just that I didn't want to break my stride...."
"Which I succeeded in doing, ah?  All for the better.  You need sustenance!  Come here and eat, and if it makes you feel better, give me a report on your progress so far."
Only then did Peli notice the enticing aroma of nut-and-carelberry pastries and warm mocha coffee and milk. She'd been up at dawn, brought from her bed by her own curiosity, a surer alarm than any she'd ever used.  That must have been three hours ago, if the quality of the sunlight was any indicator.  Peli scrambled through the partition to the mat Edisse had spread on the floor of his room and sat down to breakfast.
"Oh, sir!  It's so exciting!"
"Tell me about it, then.  Milk in your coffee?"
"Yes please...that's enough."  Peli leaned forward, cradling her cup in one four-fingered hand.  "I spent all of last night putting the stone strips in order.  They seem to be numbered in chapters, or volumes.  There's only one missing, and a few that are cracked, but most of those are cleanly broken.  A little glue will fix them.  There's very little lingual shift; according to the Language Archive on Seersana, it's about three hundred years old."
"Not bad, then," Edisse said, popping one of the pastries in his mouth and chewing it deliberately.
"No...not at all.  It's almost exactly like Modern Aeran, actually.  Anyway, I started reading the first strips last night.  The first myth concerns three members of their pantheon.  Two of them are listed as still known, the females, Taleyira and Seyela."
"The Warrior-Wife and the Warrior-Maiden," Edisse said.
"Yes.  But the male...well, I can't find any references to him at all.  His name is Edera'yn.  The story so far is about Edera'yn wooing Seyela, the Maiden.  I haven't figured out Taleyira's relationship to Edera'yn yet.  This version of the Aeran language assigns the same word to 'enemy' and 'mate', with only a slight inflection to differ it from 'friend'...which of course, isn't conveyed in the older Aeran method of writing.  They could be any of the three to one another."
Edisse chuckled.  "So like the Aera...at least nowadays, from what I've read, they differ all three by inflection, instead of just 'friend'."
Peli shook her head.  "I don't understand it, sir.  How can a culture have the same word for such disparate concepts?  You'd think there would be an obvious difference between a mate and an enemy."  She finished her first cup and poured herself a new one from the nearby pitcher, then moved on to the pastries, which steamed against her tongue.
"The Aera aren't even the strangest of our comrades in the Alliance, Peli-pupil."  That was a pet name from years ago. "Look at the Naysha, for instance, or the Sirelanders.  Even the Harat-Shar and the Hinichi have their oddities."
"I know," Peli replied, "But the Aera...they strike me as being especially...especially different."
"They're a little harder to deal with, which I think is what you meant to say."
"Well...yes, that too."
"It's because they choose to profess that there is nothing important to them."  Edisse took one of the after-breakfast mints, leaning back from the mat.
Peli couldn't conceive of such a thing; she was both dismayed by the idea and delighted by it.  It was her enjoyment at being surprised and having her mind stretched that had led her to her current profession.  "How, how...."
"Self-deluding, we would say," Edisse finished. "When you choose to say that nothing is important to you, more often then not you become unable to choose your priorities, and then everything becomes important instead, blown out of proportion and perspective."
Peli shifted slightly, uncomfortable.  "It sounds like a world-view that would create a race of mal-adjusted people."
"You'll have to judge for yourself, my girl.  I don't need to remind you to remember exactly what mal-adjusted means."
"No: badly suited for their environment, for their life."
" 'Their' life.  Remember that -- not for our kind of living, our kind of cities, our kind of government and society, but for theirs.  They might be mal-adjusted to live as Seersa, or as Asanii...but they're not Seersa or Asanii.  They're Aera."
Peli nodded, thoughtful.
"Now, if you're done with breakfast, would you like to walk to the dig with me?  I need to discuss a few matters with Dr. La'aina."
To walk in the sun?  See the countryside?  Meet the archaeologists?  "Oh, would I, sir!  Please, lead the way!"
Edisse chuckled.  "Go put something lighter on; you'll burn up under that tunic.  If we were staying longer, I'd suggest that we both grew chest-ruffs and went around in native dress, but two weeks isn't long enough for that."
Peli's ears splayed.  "I'm not sure I'd be comfortable walking around half-naked, sir."
"No, you wouldn't, would you?" he laughed, "You should take some advice from the humans.  They said, 'When in Rome, do as Romans do.' "
"I'm not human, sir, and we're not in Rome," Peli replied, knowing that her literal mindedness would evoke a laugh from her professor, and she was not disappointed.
"Go, girl!  We're leaving in five minutes!"
Not long after, Peli was trotting along behind Dr. Edisse, clad in a tunic of blessedly light fabric, raspberry-colored and cinched at her waist with a silver sash.  Her data tablet rode in a pocket, bouncing against her thigh, already set to record the results of its passive scanning.  The countryside on this part of Aren was supposedly a lot like the rest of the continent: arid plains with sparse dottings of shrubs, rolling in yellow-green to the horizon where a few orange plateaus splashed with lilac shadows cropped up here and there.  The sky was a ruthless blue, shimmering with the heat of the fierce sun.  Peli wondered why the Aera bothered to pick up and move their steads at all.  There was no escaping the burning regard of that yellow eye, so why expend the energy trying?
The archeological settlement sprang up before them in a series of multi-colored tents in vibrant colors, flaming oranges and stark crimsons, throbbing greens and yellows and purples.  Peli grew momentarily dizzy; everything on Aren seemed preternaturally bright, tempting her eyes to water.  Beside the tents the excavation was cordoned off with fluttering white sashes.  Already people could be seen moving around the site, preparing for the day's labor.  Peli counted twelve tents, and four people mobile; she decided while Edisse chatted with Dr. La'aina she would interview some of them, perhaps convince one of them to let her down into the dig.
"I'll find you when I'm ready to leave," Edisse said, interrupting her thoughts, "Meanwhile, enjoy yourself."
"Okay, sir," she replied, and they split off at the edge of the settlement.  Peli slowed to study the tents in more detail, pulling her tablet out of her pocket to record the visual aspects. Most of them were pyramidal in shape, with one or two rectangular like the one she shared with Dr. Edisse.  The off-world scientists' village where she and the Asanii had been lodged was larger, perhaps twenty-six tents, but they were farther apart.  Peli examined the bracing elements of the tents in curiosity.  With such a scarcity of wood, she wondered what they used and gasped in interest at the answer.  Stone!  The Seersa glanced toward the distant cliffs.  Perhaps it differed regionally; she wondered if she could send a message on one of the anthropological groups asking if anyone had gathered any data concerning wood-substitutes on Aren.
The female continued strolling along the edges of the settlement, making an arc around the tents that would bring her to the dig.  While the study of things past did not interest her half as much as the study of things currently existent, she did recognize that in many ways it was impossible to separate them.  Peli drew near the mound of overturned soil beside the growing hole in the earth, skirting it until she came to the white sashes. She peered down into it; no one was working yet.
Disappointed, Peli began to turn.
"So, pretty vixy, when did you say you were bringing your rosettes into my studio?"
Peli reflected that so far, most of her dialogues on Aren had seemed like incidents more properly relegated to dreams: nonsensical non-sequiturs uttered by people completely impervious to reason.  "Pardon?"
Du'er was leaning against the mound, body slack with a roguish languor, the tiny wings at his feet moving idly as if to send breezes over his arches and around his ankles.  "To be my model. Didn't you say you'd bring your rosettes for me to turn into a work of art?"
The perversion of language never failed to infuriate Peli.  Lies, untruths, those things defiled the purpose of the spoken and written word: clear communication.  "I never promised you my 'rosettes', nor that I would model for you," she said, carefully enunciating each syllable as if doing so would somehow make more of an impression on Du'er's unmalleable brain.
It was fodder for shock that Du'er actually stood up in surprise, pressing a hand to his chest.  "I've offended you with my careless banter!"
"Yes, you have," Peli replied, folding her arms, wondering if he was sincere.
Du'er leaned forward.  "Forgive me, beauty...but this is a cold and heartless world, with no care for a romantic soul."  He leaned back against the mound with an expression of such suffering that Peli was moved despite her nagging suspicion that he was still acting.  "Not even my mate understands what touches me.  But in you!  In you, I thought I saw a kindred soul.  I see one still, I think.  You must dismiss my way of speaking.  It's a defense against most people's callousness."
Peli sighed. He seemed honest, and certainly these didn't sound like the kind of admissions one would lie about.  Perhaps he did just want to be friends with her.   "Du'er-alet," she said, using the more formal word for 'friend' lest she give him ideas, "let us make a deal. I won't tread on your customs if you won't tread on mine."
"But I don't know all your customs!" Du'er protested, dismayed.
"Well, I don't know all yours, either.  But I'll tell you one of mine now -- don't lie.  That's the most important to me.  Now, you tell me one of yours."
Du'er paused to think, then said, "Don't reject any of my gifts."  He must have noticed her eyes widening, because he held out one hand, "No, I won't give you anything ridiculous, but it is a custom among us to exchange small gifts, once and a while, as tokens of appreciation or gratitude."
Reluctantly, Peli nodded.  "Very well."
"Now...since you're here, would you like to see one of the statues we unearthed yesterday afternoon?  It's quite stunning!  Maybe it has something to do with the strips."
Peli's ears swiveled forward in interest.  "I'd love to!"  She fell into step beside the lanky male, and continued, "Tell me something, Du'er?  Why am I translating your stone strips?  Don't you have a specialist on the Old Style glyphs?"
"Not one that came as cheaply as you did, beauty."
Peli pursed her lips and didn't reply to that. It was the truth; as an intern, it had cost Aren less to employ her, but it seemed crude to mention it. Then again, she had asked...
Du'er lead her into one of the rectangular tents, a dark, eye-mazing azure in color.  Pillows with blue and gold stripes were strewn on the floor, plushy and large enough to serve as comfortable chairs, and in some cases, large enough to be comfortable beds.  He walked to a table and plucked an object from it, handing it to her.
"Oh," Peli said softly, "It's beautiful!"  She turned the figurine over in her hands.  It was perhaps a foot tall, slender, made of dark green stone with striations of blue and blued silver punctuated with gemstones. Centuries in the sandy soil of Aren had not substantially marred its surface, or its graceful lines: a stylized Aera female, chin lifted and ears flatly parallel to her neck lifted one hand to the sky and held the other at the height of her shoulders, as if dancing.  She wore no clothing, one leg slightly bent as if she had been caught putting weight on her foot.  Something in the Aera's lifted hand swirled down, wrapping around her arm, a thin, raised strip decorated with tiny cabochon gems of flitirel and rulent.  "What do you suppose that is?" she asked, running a finger over the orange and turquoise gemstones.
"I'm not sure.  I was hoping you could tell me about it," Du'er replied, "Perhaps something you've read...?"
Peli shook her head.  "Not yet...maybe when I get back today, I'll find some clue.  Or it might not even refer to the myths at all."
Du'er chuckled, "Don't say such things, beauty!  Why don't you take that with you...."
Peli lifted her head to protest, but the male put a finger to his muzzle, eyes sparkling.  "Let me finish.  Take it with you so that you can see if it pertains to anything you're reading.  We've other pieces, but far larger than that one.  That's the only one you could carry.  It would save you a trip, running to and fro, if you had it with you."
"Are you certain?" Peli asked, ears splaying.
"Didn't you promise not to reject any of my gifts?  Well here is one: the gift of borrowed time with this antique.  Hold your end of the bargain, dear beauty."
Peli had to laugh.  "Okay."
"Peli?  Peli?  Oh, there you are.  I'm ready to go.  Good morning, Du'er."
"Good morning, Dr. Edisse," the male replied as the Asanii leaned through the open flap of the tent.
"I'm ready, sir," Peli said, then added to Du'er, "If I find anything I think relates to this statue in the manuscripts, you'll be one of the first to know."
"Not the first?" Du'er asked, mouth quirking.
"That would be a lie," Peli replied good-naturedly, "Since I'd probably have to tell Dr. Edisse about it or burst.  He's closer to me, after all."
Du'er laughed, "We should change that, no?  Well, have a good morning, beauty."
"You too, Du'er."
"You seem to be getting on well with him," Edisse commented once they left the tent and began the walk back to their settlement.
"We've come to an agreement that allows us to work amicably," Peli answered, handing Edisse the figurine, "I've been charged to hold on to this for a while, to see if anything in the stone strips concerns it."
Edisse studied the statue with professional admiration.
"It must be a very hard stone," Peli added, watching the Asanii's face as they walked amid the scrub-brush, "Otherwise the abnormally high sand content would have had more of an effect on it, I think."
"If this dates to the same time as the writings, it might not be so surprising that it's well-preserved.  It's made out of jaen.  I haven't seen something made out of jaen since the last time I was in a museum with Aeran artifacts.  This is worth a small fortune.  Do you think it relates to your myths?"
Peli shook her head.  "I'll have to read more.  Which I will, after I drink something.  I feel parched!"
Edisse handed the figurine back to her with a dry chuckle.  "I'm surprised you're not panting...I'm sweating up a storm already.  I'm all for a pad-bath when we get back."
"Not a bad idea," Peli said, suddenly noticing how oily she felt.  After a moment, she asked tentatively, "Professor?  Does Du'er have the authority to...to hand out statues and artifacts this way?  I'm not doing anything that would sully our name, am I, in taking this with me?"
"Since Du'er is in charge of all the sculpture unearthed at this site, you're perfectly safe, my girl.  Don't fret yourself."
Peli let out a breath in relief.
"You worry too much," Edisse said, a sparkle of fond humor in his green-brown eyes, "This assignment is going to be perfectly dull.  It's why I chose it for your internship.  Excitement should be reserved for senior xenoanthropologists."
"Oh!" Peli exclaimed, "I don't find this dull at all!"
"Somehow, I'm not surprised."
They reached their tent and parted ways; after a pad bath, lunch, and two cups of water, Peli rolled onto her bed to check her mail.  The usual assortment was waiting for her: a bank statement, notifying her of the deposit of her stipend as an assistant to Dr. Edisse...a reminder from her dentist that her ten-year re-enamelling was due next month...junk mail, asking her to buy the newest fragrance from Arras Windfall and the latest technology in room decor...and a surprising and enchanting viseo-letter from her big sister.  Doni's tales about her adventures in First Voice had always thrilled Peli as an adolescent and had been responsible for her decision to take advantage of the rich cultural fabric the Alliance offered.  No doubt Doni had some new escapade to regale her with in this letter; being a linguist on a courier ship with six people of radically different heritage never failed to create any amount of delicious and amusing anecdotes, and like every Seersa born Doni could spin a story.
Delighted at this unexpected pleasure, Peli spent the afternoon with her mail before returning to her work, refreshed.  She placed the figurine on her work desk where it occupied the corner of her eye and set to translation.

#

"So you have reason to believe this figurine is actually related to the myth?"
"I think so," Peli replied earnestly, dipping her sweet-bread in the honey pot that occupied the midpoint between herself and Edisse.  "The story, if I'm following it correctly, says that Edera'yn gives Seyela a jeweled string as a symbol of his love, and that Seyela brings it to the next festival in Heaven, where she does a dance with it.  This enflames Taleyira into hatred, from which I have to assume that she's Edera'yn's mate, otherwise it wouldn't have made her so angry.  That's where I stopped for the night, though."
Edisse lifted a brow.  "This must be hard for you.  You're getting so little of the story for so much of your work?"
Peli flicked her tail, "Well, the 'plot', if you would, is pretty slow to unravel.  Whomever is responsible for writing or for setting this myth down gets wrapped up in small and sometimes... well... sordid details."
"Is that so?" Edisse said with a chuckle, "Typical.  The Aera are such sensualists.  They'll make poetry about anything tactile, from the silky smoothness of a certain fabric to the oily slickness of their own sweat."
"There are a few lingual anomalies," Peli continued, wrinkling her nose to Edisse's amusement, "Like this 'ruje'aida'.  'String' is the closest thing I can find, but I know it's not quite right, but the Archives don't have a clear definition for ruje'aida in this time-period.  It could be 'string'...it could be 'rope'...it could be 'bracelet' or 'glue'."
The old Asanii's brows rose, "Unusual to have such ambiguity in the Archives."
"If there's ambiguity in the Archives," Peli replied, driven to defend her race's efforts, "It's at least partially the fault of the race from whom the ambiguity stemmed from.  We can only record what they tell us, after all."
"True, true...so will you go down to the digs to tell Du'er and Dr. La'aina?"
"Not yet.  I want to have something more concrete to tell them.  I'll probably spend the rest of this morning and afternoon working."
"Don't forget...."
"I know, the party tonight."  Peli watched the Asanii dip the last of his sweet-bread in the honey, cradling her tea.  "How formal is this again?"
"Very. I'm going to have to wear a tuxedo."
Peli wrinkled her nose.  "Oh, no, not one of those 'black tie' events?"
Edisse chuckled.  "Unfortunately, yes.  They've become popular again in the scientific circles these past few years. I suppose it's only fair since we regularly impose our balls and cultural affairs on them."
Peli refilled his cup.  "I'd like to go to Earth someday.  There's so much history there.  It's like a mini-Alliance, all on one globe!  Can you imagine having so many disparate cultures develop on one world?"
"Rather amazing, isn't it?" Edisse agreed, "Well, one step at a time.  But if I have anything to say about it, you'll get there."
"You'll come with me, won't you, professor?"
Edisse was rolling up their breakfast mat, "Oh no, Peli-pupil...I have my ambitions as well, you know."
"You do?"  The idea had never occurred to her, "Where would you like to go?"
The old Asanii's hazel eyes twinkled, like the sparks that betrayed the presence of a consuming fire.  "To the Chatcaavan Empire."
Peli's mouth dropped open.  "Dr. Edisse!  You're not serious, are you?  The Chatcaava, with their feudal lords and Slave Queens and subterfuge and who knows what other unsavory customs?"
"A society of shape-changers, my girl!  Think of it!  What kind of world would you live in if your identity was so malleable?"
"Wouldn't you be in danger?" she asked, black eyes wide.
Edisse laughed easily, "They've signed a non-aggression pact... which is to say, 'yes, very probably.'  But you overlook the fact that life is full of perils, and that any assignment you take, no matter how mundane it may seem, has the potential for disaster.  After a while in the profession, you develop a sixth sense for keeping yourself out of trouble."
"I hope so," Peli said, pushing herself to her feet, "Because you'll need it if you head into that territory."
"You should worry more for yourself...you're the neophyte."
"I do worry for myself," Peli replied, muzzle curving into a smile, "When I have the time between myths!"
The morning passed, lazy hours strolling after their preceding fellows with all the urgency of a cat sunning itself in summer; Peli hardly noticed when lunch-time came, barely breaking concentration long enough to bolt down a piece of tana fruit and drink more water.  The story in the strips was getting interesting; Taleyira had challenged Seyela to the Rite of Defiance for laying premature claim to Edera'yn.  The Seersa tagged 'Rite of Defiance' in her transcript on the data tablet for later research -- perhaps it was a custom that still existed, or maybe more information was available in a historical text.
The bleep of the programmed alarm in the tablet jarred her out of her trance, irritating her.  Parties!  What did parties have to do with being a xenoanthropologist?  Didn't those other scientists have enough to do without manufacturing excuses to do something else?  Exasperated, Peli folded the strips in their hide bundle and checked her makeshift clothes rack, thumbing through all the light shifts until she found the one evening gown she owned.
Five years ago ambassadorial parties, high-society functions and balls had swept back into fashion with such fervor some historians had immediately proclaimed the renaissance of the Romantic Era.  Sheath dresses returned to haute couture, exemplified by models like Silhouette, the mysterious Tam-illee with her slender, lily-like figure...leaving all the digitigrade races, and especially the stockier ones like the Seersa and their sister-race the Karaka'A in dismay.  The beauty of sheath dresses laid in the elegant straight line they made of a figure, one impossible to create with thighs jutting out at impossible-to-hide angles.
The dismay lasted until a prominently known Karaka'An Fleet Captain arrived at a function held by Ambassador Jaimetharrl Darksoot in a sheath dress slit all the way up the skirt to her hips on both sides to allow her to walk freely.  Since then, slit-sheathes for digitigrade races had become the rage, and even the plantigrade females took to slitting their dresses for novelty.  Peli had bought her dress at the time, never expecting to need it.
The Seersa shrugged out of her work tunic, stepped on the pad to have all the dirt and excess oil dissipated from her body, and then settled to brush out her fur.  With a toe she turned the mirror to face her where she sat in front of the work table; a fruitful search of the u-banks unearthed a step-by-step viseo on how to pull up her hair with only a few hairpin-stasis fields.  Peli went about her preparation as she did her work: professionally and without devoting much conscious thought to the results.
After pulling her hair and cheek ruffs into a french twist, the Seersa slipped on the dress; it was midnight blue, limning her torso to her hips where it fell in two straight panels, one before, one behind.  The plain, high neckline lay hidden beneath a loop of dark blue chiffon, clipped at the shoulders with small silver ovals with the ends left free to trail behind her.
Peli was studying her reflection critically when the bells outside jingled.  With a lack of self-consciousness born of naivete, she called in flawless Aeran, "Enter, an' the winds be right."
The tent-flap pushed back to admit Du'er, who halted in the entrance as if struck.  "Could this be the same beauty I once professed an insolent desire to carve?  Surely the Greater Master will strike me down for my impertinence, for I see she is already a living work of art!"
"You're not...," Peli began, and Du'er laughed.
"No, I'm not lying.  I promised, didn't I?"  The male Aera walked into the tent; he was not yet dressed for the event or perhaps wasn't going, still sporting one of the wraps the Aera liked to clip around their hips with ostentacious jewels, male or female.  "No, I came to give you a gift, and I am pleased now because I didn't know how perfect it would be!  By the way, that color truly becomes you."
Perplexed at the concept of a color making her look particularly nice, Peli glanced down at her midriff. "I like it," she offered tentatively in response, then continued on the other course, "But...another gift?"
"Ah, but the figurine was only temporary!  This is a more permanent gift.  And here it is!"  Du'er snapped his wrist from behind his back, opening his fingers to reveal the carefully coiled length of a thick crimson ribbon with raised geometric patterns.  When Peli made no move to take it, he came to her side and gently turned her to face the mirror, artfully tying it into a bow around her right wrist.  "There.  It is only proper for ladies to wear gloves at evening parties, but Aren is too hot for such a custom, don't you think?  This will make you look as if you're wearing gloves that had bows at their edges for effect.  No one will notice you're not wearing white gloves until they truly look at your hands...which are, by the way, quite beautiful."
Peli stared at herself, eyes wide -- if that was the effect the ribbon was supposed to have it was totally lost on her.  But if Du'er said so, and he had admitted to being a poetic soul...besides, she'd promised not to reject his gifts.
"Thank you, Du'er.  It's very pretty."
"Not as pretty as the one who graces it," the male replied smoothly, "I will see you soon."
"Certainly," Peli said, although she was in truth not very certain at all; at least, not about her feelings concerning the odd behavior of the sculptor.
"Peli?  Who was that?"  Edisse stepped through the partition, wearing his black and white suit and straightening his bowtie with all the absent discomfort of someone who hadn't tested the starching of his collar since its last use.
"Du'er...to give me this."  She displayed the ribbon for her mentor, who studied it curiously.
"It's very nice.  Makes you look like you're wearing gloves."
Peli blinked, then shook her head in amazement.  "Really, sir?"
"You look fine, my girl.  Shall we?  We don't want to be late."
"Of course not."
The sun had fallen when they stepped outside the tent. Peli fell in alongside Dr. Edisse, ears swiveled forward; even from here, she could hear the faint strains of music, an effervescent piece for a string quartet she recognized as the work of a popular Hinichi composer.  The occasional chirp of Aren's night insects added a curious counterpoint to the melody.
"Will we hear Aeran music?" she asked.
"I don't suppose it.  The Aera aren't inclined toward background music."
"...not even for parties?" Peli asked.
Edisse regarded her, and his fond amusement did not succeed in hiding the sober set of his lips.  "They may look somewhat like us, more like us than Terrans, or Eldritch, or Sirelanders, but I don't think it's really struck you that they are different, despite that exterior."
"I...I guess not," Peli said, "but, professor, you taught that we must always start from a common ground, looking for common ground, when we work among other races."
"Of course.  When working among other races, start from a common ground, look for a common ground...and never forget it may not be there.  You must always be aware, hyper-aware, of the differences.  Only then can you compensate and plan for them."
The wind tickled softly at Peli's exposed neck; unaccustomed to the sensation, she hugged herself.  The faraway song had drawn nearer and mutated into a Tam-leyan ballad punctuated by the hum of conversation.  A magenta tent splashed with shadows of dark violet shading to black proved responsible for the noise, spreading its bulk across an area that would have encompassed six tents the size of the one she shared with the elder Asanii.  Silhouettes haloed in the orangy-lilac glow of interior light sources milled across the cut-out stage of the long horizontal plane of the tent's side.
Edisse walked to the front of the tent, where the flap was pegged closed with the tassel that indicated a desire for privacy but an invitation for others to enter without announcing themselves.  "Ready, Peli-pupil?"
The Seersa lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.  "Ready, sir."
The Asanii unlooped the closure and let the flap drop open, stepping inside.  Peli followed with some trepidation.
The tent held all of the archeologists working the nearby dig as well as all of the members of the village of outworld-scientists where they were staying, along with what the Seersa guessed were some ancillary Aera, perhaps friends of the diggers or the scientists.  A trestle table occupied one length of the tent near the entrance, piled with trays of fruit, steaming meat, soups and broths, several kinds of breads, and more bowls of drink than she had ever seen collected in one place.  The music emanated from a player esconsed beneath the table.  Slender metal holders that rose to her chin displayed floating glow-bulbs, casting everything in a warm, amber light at odds with the walls of the tent.  Beyond the immediate gathering, a large space had been cleared for dancing, along with a table for panel discussions.
Dazed by the people, scents, and sounds, Peli trailed behind Edisse as her mentor made his way through the throng, shaking hands, making greeting gestures, offering palms or waving tails, switching from culture to culture with the ease of long practice.  He introduced her to everyone he met; Peli tried to keep track of the names, but after the fifth introduction the dazzling colors and scales and fur patterns merged into an endless stream of indistinguishable information.  It relieved her, however, to be among the scientists, with all the multiculturalism and cheerful camaraderie that typified most of the crowds occupying Selnor where she'd gone to school.  Peli hadn't realized how much she'd missed that intermingling until now.
The Seersa stopped at the food table, taking a slice of the potato bread and spreading it with white honey.  A matronly Harat-Shar lynxine poured her some of the nerisii punch and Peli stepped away to enjoy a little food in her corner, trying to clear her mind of the afterimages of countless males in suits and females in formal-wear that varied from the rustling silks of the Asanii to the near-nakedness of the Sirelander's metal armor.
"This...this is your natural setting!  You shine like a sublime jewel amid the ostentation of the gaudy would-be beauties, Terran peacocks to your subtle swan."  Du'er slipped around her from behind, bowing; in the stark black and white of a tuxedo he looked the last monochrome still in an almost-completed colorized film.
He was insane, Peli thought.  She was about as at home in a party as a plant in outer space, and the whole bit about the swan....  "Good evening, Du'er.  You look striking."
The male pressed his hand to his heart and rolled his eyes in exaggerated pleasure.  "Lady, you wound me with your affections!  I shall never heal!"
Peli resisted the urge to ask him if he was always this theatrical.  What if that was a societal custom?  He would probably be offended.  She cast about for a topic of conversation and managed to find one.  "I've discovered a possible link between the figurine and the stone strips."
"Do tell!" Du'er exclaimed.
She recounted what she knew of the tale of the two goddesses and Edera'yn.  As she finished, inspiration struck, "Du'er, do you happen to know what 'ruje'aida' is?"
"Ah...a slang in Clan Roseyan and Zuene'a!  They use it for the word 'ribbon'."
"That makes more sense," Peli said, tapping the underside of her chin, brows furrowed.  "Although I wonder how that meaning wasn't recorded in the Archives on Seersana."
Du'er chuckled, a sly twinkle in his eye.  "We must keep some secrets from you, mustn't we?  Or else we wouldn't be a mystery."  He winked at her and melted back into the crowd.
Peli shook her head and steeled herself for more mingling among strangers.  She had to be sociable; she had to bring good words to Edisse's name.  Shoulders squared, the Seersa re-entered the chaos and worked her way slowly through the tent...chatting with a Phoenix and admiring his metallic plumage, silently marveling over the furlessness of the one human on the science team, discussing different kinds of pelt-brushes with a Tam-illee, speculating with a Hinichi over the probability of finding more intelligent life in the new sector on the spinward border of the Neighborhood...Peli's mind began to swim.  An hour and a half later, she was exhausted and ready to put herself and her overworked jaws to bed.  She looked for and found her mentor by the lazy swing of his ruddy tail.
"Dr. Edisse, I'm going to go back to the tent."
"Sleepy already?" he asked, eyes sparkling.
Peli considered, then replied with the candor that words demanded, "Not sleepy...tired, tired of small talk and smiling and trying to say the right things.  I'd like to relax before bed, do a little more of the translation."
"I'll see you later, then, if you're still awake."
She nodded and threaded her way through the people to the tent flap.  The Seersa began to open it when some sixth sense warned her of a stare that was applying for a transmutation into a drill; someone's gaze was boring into the center of her back.  Peli glanced about swiftly, surprised, and found herself meeting the hostile stare of the Aera female she identified after a few moments as Dr. La'aina.  Dr. La'aina?  The one in charge of the dig?  What had she done to earn the wrath of that female?
Peli frowned and stepped out of the tent.  She'd ask Edisse tomorrow.

#

Sunlight tinted by the tent walls fell on her face the following morning as Peli yawned, stretching in her bed-roll.  After the party she'd had enough energy only to change into her light night shift, loose her hair and then drop among her pillows.  She didn't even remember falling asleep.  So much for her plans to continue reading the story of Seyela and Taleyira!  She would have to make up for lost time today.
Swiveling an ear towards the partition revealed no sound; Edisse must still be sleeping.  If memory served, she'd heard something in her sleep; he must have returned in the dark hours of the morning.  Well, she'd save a little time and eat breakfast while reading her mail.  That would give her an extra half hour to spend translating.
After a cursory morning ablution, Peli set the pot of tea to warming and unwrapped some bread, plucking her data tablet off the table.  She shuffled through her messages: a letter from her mother with an attached viseo from the local news about her old primary school...a notification that one of her many favorite authors had produced a new work, and would she like to buy it and in which format? (Terran perfect-bound?  Faulfenzair scrolls?  Privacy-coded file?)...a challenge to a duel...the latest issue of Scientific Explorations in Language...challenge to a duel?
Eyes widening, Peli spread that message.  Her screen filled with a formal looking document written in Aeran, challenging Peli to a Rite of Defiance over the Heart Du'er, to be settled tomorrow at sun's zenith...
And issued by Dr. La'aina.
It had to be some sort of joke.  The rest of her mail forgotten, Peli jammed a piece of bread into her mouth for breakfast, changed hastily into a more appropriate shift, pocketed her data tablet and headed into the morning sunlight.  She'd straighten this out before Edisse woke up; what would her teacher say, to find out she'd somehow managed to run afoul of this culture without even trying?  Hadn't he said this would be a dull assignment?  What had gone wrong?  It had to be a simple misunderstanding.  She'd fix it.  She had to.
Peli trotted to the dig site where most of the archeologists were already at work, skirting the colorful tents; as an afterthought she flicked on the recorder on the data tablet in her pocket, as Edisse had always taught her not to waste an opportunity.  After all, the Seersa thought ruefully, for all she knew, she'd never be allowed into this settlement again.  She came to a breathless halt in front of the dig-master's dwelling and grabbed the hand bells outside, giving them a rough jangle.
"Come, if the winds are in your favor," a cold voice intoned.
Wearing the knowledge of her innocence as armor, Peli walked inside.
Her first impression was of fire: red walls, bright orange and yellow pillows, hot colors everywhere.  La'aina stood in the center of the tent, back turned to the entrance; in this setting, the brown of the other's pelt seemed to be a-flame, forming a halo of palpable anger.  Peli opened her mouth to greet her, but the Aera female turned, saw her and interrupted.
"So it's you!  You thought I wouldn't do it, that I would spare you because you're an out-worlder and should know better, didn't you?  Didn't you think I would call for the Rite after what you've done?"
Faced with those raging eyes, Peli backed a step involuntarily, hand to her chest.  "I...what...what did I do?"
"Oh!  Play the innocent with me, will you, little foxy?  I know better...I've heard all Du'er's graphic accounts of your nights together!"
"Night...nights together?"
"Your nights together in bed!  Having little Seersa-sex!  Teaching him little Seersa love-secrets!  Showing off that perfectly white pelt Du'er bragged you were hiding under all that clothing!  Did you think I wouldn't call the Rite after hearing so many details about your spotless, sexy white undersides?"
Peli's mouth dropped open in complete and total shock.  Not only was this worse than she had expected, it was beyond her ability to comprehend.  Du'er...Du'er had told his mate these gross and hideous lies?  Why?  And how could La'aina have believed him!
"Dr. La'aina, please allow me to ex--"
"Explain!  Explain!  You can explain it to me tomorrow when I have a pike aimed at your heart!  Now get out!"
Peli complied with haste; it was obvious that trying to convince La'aina was fruitless anyway.  She would have to get to the heart of the matter—the ‘Heart’ of the matter!  With some exasperation she remembered that she had been planning to research the Rite of Defiance.  She had anticipated learning more about it, but not this way!
The Seersa jogged to the small tent where Du'er had given her the figurine, anger and bewilderment lending her energy.  She didn't even bother to ring the bells to request entrance, or to check the tassels on the tent-flap to make sure she was allowed to come in; flipping the cord aside, she stood in the entrance and folded her arms.
Du'er glanced up; he had been sitting on a pillow and sipping something, studying a tablet.  Seeing her, he put aside the tablet and cup and stood, arms open.  "Ah, it is the beauteous Peli, come to give me her rosettes as promised!"
She ignored him and interjected, "Du'er, what is the meaning of these, these unforgivable untruths you've been feeding to Dr. La'aina?  She wants to kill me now!"
A flare of eager interest spurted into Du'er's eyes.  "She challenged you to the Rite?"
"Yes!  And she's quite intent on putting a sharp object through my midriff!  Du'er, why did you tell her we were...were bedding together?"
Du'er leaned back, his entire body slack with satisfaction.  When he spoke, his voice held mockery and amused superiority. "Because I hate her, and wanted to get away from her."
Peli choked in the middle of her next tirade.  What came out of her mouth after that stranglement was a tiny, meek sound.  "Why...how...."
"You see," Du'er poured a cup of tea and offered it to her with laughing eyes, "if I could manipulate La'aina into declaring a Rite of Defiance on you, she would lose it...lose it because you are more knowledgeable in language than she is and would defeat her in the Verbal Challenge, and she is growing old and slow with anger and I am confident you would be able to tire her into defeat in the Physical Challenge.  You would win me but wouldn't want me, and would set me free.  However, if somehow La'aina did win, she'd be so disgusted with me she'd also set me free.  She would never tolerate a mate she knew had been unfaithful.  So you see, either way, I'd win."
Peli stared at Du'er.  If she had been unable to comprehend La'aina, it was nothing to how little she could comprehend Du'er.  "On purpose...all those things you told me, all the times you were with me...the ribbon!"  Her eyes flew open.
The male laughed in delight, "You understand, then!  Yes, the ribbon still has the same connotations for us today as it did in older days.  Males give them to females they favor for display.  And you, unknowing, went to a party with every single person of any repute in the vicinity wearing my ribbon on your wrist.  Every Aera there left talking about it.  I thought La'aina would burst.  It was absolutely beautiful!"
"You were lying to me.  You promised not to lie to me, just as I promised not to...."
"Not to reject any gifts from me, yes," he agreed, grinning.
Peli felt like sitting down but couldn't command her knees.  "You were planning it...even then?"
"Of course.  You were the most likely candidate.  You were exotic, young, beautiful and intelligent...La'aina knows how much I like those qualities.  She wouldn't believe me falling for another Aera, but for a strange and uniquely beautiful alien?  That she would swallow eagerly.  All those graphic descriptions of your naked body!"  He laughed, "You should have seen her face!"
"You never intended to keep your promise, then," she managed, eyes glazing.
Du'er leaned into his pillow, resting his head in the joined fingers of his hands as he stretched.  "Actually, I did keep my promise.  I never lied to you.  I do think you're beautiful.  I do think you would make a fabulous carving.  I would like to be that sculptor one day.  I simply omitted my motives."
Anger pushed through the fog clouding her mind, an anger completely Seersan.  Peli clenched her hands into fists and glared at Du'er.  "The purpose of words is clear communication.  To impart information.  Lying is deception, a perversion of words to fool other people into believing your version of reality.  What you did is exactly the same, except you used silence instead of words!  You deceived me!  Purposefully, for your own ends!  You violated the spirit if not the letter of your promise!"
Du'er chuckled, completely at ease.  "I thought you would feel more comfortable with me violating spirits and silences instead of words and letters.  That is what you Seersa worship, isn't it?  Aren't you grateful?"
Peli stared at Du'er, open-mouthed.  His laugh jolted her into action.  "You are despicable!" she hissed, enunciating each word clearly, then turned stiffly and exited the tent.
The morning sunlight caressed her brow as she stood outside, trying to banish her anger long enough to think.  What to do?  She had been manipulated into this position so cunningly she could see no way out.  La'aina was in no condition to believe her; she didn't trust Du'er or Peli, and nothing the Seersa could do would make her think otherwise.  But she couldn't get involved in this.  Not only would it make a horrendous mark against her on her record, but she doubted she would survive a physical duel unscathed.  Perhaps she was young, as Du'er had so off-handedly stated, but the Seersa had no experience at all in weaponry or combat other than rudimentary training in self-defense.
What could she do?
She had no choice.  She had to talk to Edisse.  He would help her find a solution; he had to.  But as Peli walked back to her tent, ears flat and tail hanging, she found herself fervently wishing there was some other way.  Her professor would be so disappointed in her.
The scent of rooderberry-filled donuts punctuated the air when Peli entered her tent; the smell mingled with that of mint hot chocolate reminded her of the tiny piece of cold bread and the excessive stomach acid that she'd been using as fuel so far.  Her mouth started watering.
"Ah, there you are!" Edisse smiled, fatigue-marks lining his eyes despite his cheerful smile, "You young people.  I don't know how you can stay up so late and wake up so early.  Your dedication to this project is admirable, my--"
"Sir...," she couldn't stand to hear it, ears drooping.  She dropped into her usual space across from him and tried to find the words.
"Oh, something's bothering you, I see.  Here, have a donut and relax.  You look like you need a little pampering."
Peli watched in mute misery as the old Asanii pushed a donut and a cup of minty hot cocoa in her hands.  The last thing she deserved right now was pampering or praise for her dedication.
"Now," Edisse said, leaning back, "tell me your troubles."
"Sir, I've been challenged to a Rite of Defiance!" Peli blurted.
The Asanii stared at her for several seconds, then said, "Pardon?"
Peli's shoulders slumped dejectedly, "I didn't mean it to happen, but Du'er...Du'er manipulated me.  He wanted to get away from his mate, and set it up so Dr. La'aina thought he was being unfaithful to her with me, and she believed him, and now she wants me to show up tomorrow at noon so she can kill me!"
Edisse took a deep sip of his cup before continuing.  "You're certain this isn't a joke."
"Oh no!  I talked to them both this morning.  It's deadly earnest." Peli looked at him, pleadingly. “Isn't there something we can do?  Some loophole? I never intended something like this to happen!"
Rustily, Edisse began to laugh.  "I know you didn't, my girl.  I never intended it myself either, come to that. I thought this would be a safe assignment!  As for loopholes...well, let's start looking.  Should we begin with the document she sent you?"
Peli nodded, "I have it right here.  In fact, I left it on the screen...."  She plucked her data tablet from her pocket and handed it to Edisse, who studied it.  A puzzled frown grew on his face.
"What is it?" she asked.
"This doesn't look much like a challenge statement.  It seems to be a record of a conversation."
"A...what?" Peli asked, incredulous.
Edisse handed the tablet back to her, and the Seersa scanned it swiftly, then again in shock.  A squeak of surprise escaped her.  "Professor!  This is the conversation I had with Du'er half an hour ago!  I...of course!  I left the tablet on record when I entered the settlement!"  She suppressed the urge to crow with delight, scrolling through the text of both her exchanges, that with La'aina and that with Du'er.  "Oh, Dr. Edisse!  It's where he was admitting to me everything he was doing!"
"Well!" the Asanii said, examining it as she handed it back to him, "that's an uncanny piece of luck!"
Peli glanced up at him.  "You don't suppose...that if I gave this to La'aina, she might believe me and call the Rite off?"
Edisse considered.  "I'm not sure.  Aera can be very moody.  One minute they might be as stubborn as rocks, the next as changeable as the wind. It's worth a try, particularly since I suspect it's our only chance.  But!  Let's finish breakfast, go over the texts on this Rite, and see if we have any other options.  If not, we'll go with this."
Ignoring her apprehension with difficulty, Peli managed a smile and began to eat.

#

Two hours later, they had discovered no loophole; if La'aina did not call off the Rite herself, there was no way to prevent it.  Not only that, but no Champion had ever called off a Rite in the history of the custom.
They would have to show her the transcript.
Tablet in hand, Peli stepped out of the tent and began the walk back to the dig for the second time that day.  The sun was especially strong, the colors of the tents when she approached particularly vibrant; the Seersa felt as if everything on Aren had chosen to assault her.
Ringing the bells outside the female's tent and receiving a cold invitation to enter, Peli again strode into the abode of the predator, who was sitting on a pillow reading a report.
"You again?" La'aina bristled when she glanced up.
"Stop!" Peli said, injecting as much command into her appeal as possible without disrespect, "Listen to me!  Du'er has manipulated us both!"
"I am not interested in your excuses!"
The Seersa continued, ignoring her racing heart and La'aina's stormy gaze. "He wanted to break away from you and arranged it so that you would Challenge me, and either of us would set him free if we won!  He was doing it all on purpose!  He was lying to you!  And to me!"
La'aina glowered.  "You really expect me to believe you?"
"You don't have to--I have proof!  I accidentally recorded the conversation I had with Du'er where he admitted all of this!  You only have to read it to see that he's been planning this all along.  We were set up!"
"That sort of data can be forged," La'aina replied coldly.
Peli felt her body tensing.  "Do you want to take the chance?  If I'm right, Du'er will have tricked you, made a fool of you by using you like a puppet to execute his whims.  Do you want to be the butt of every joke in this community?  You will be, once Du'er gets away from you and starts gloating!  Read the transcript!"
"I'm not interested," La'aina said again, beginning to shift against her pillow in growing anger.
"Do you want to reward him for playing you like a musical instrument?"
"I'm not interested!" La'aina roared, leaping to her feet, "Take your immutable tablet and get your 'sexy white pelt' out of my tent!"
"I'm going," Peli replied, fighting the urge to cringe and run, "But I'm leaving this here.  Read it!  Don't let Du'er get away with this!  It's your name at stake!"
"OUT!" La'aina bellowed, and Peli gave in and ran, tossing the tablet with its incriminating evidence onto a pillow before exiting.
Outside, Peli tried to decide if that had gone well or not.  What if La'aina did not read the tablet?  What if it was all lost? Glancing at the workers who occasionally gave her inquisitive and sometimes knowing looks, Peli felt exasperation for Aren and its intractable inhabitants.  Slipping her hand into her now-empty pockets, the Seersa walked back toward the scientific settlement through the sun and sandy terrain, ruminating on the chance that La'aina would see sense and the chilling possibility that she wouldn't.  The verbal half of the Rite she might be able to handle, since all it seemed to entail was a solid knowledge of the Aeran language, its common insults and colloquialisms; as a Seersa, she had grasped those things naturally.  But the physical half...she'd read about the weapons, and if La'aina's earlier threat was an indication of her chosen weapon, then it would be pikes: pikes that were two and a half feet longer than she was tall.  Peli sincerely doubted she'd be able to keep the thing upright, much less defend herself with it.
"Any luck?" Edisse asked as she entered the tent.
"I don't know," Peli answered with a sigh, "I left it with her, but I don't know if she'll read it."
"Well, then, all we can do is wait," Edisse said, "If she chooses to retract the challenge, a courier will arrive on our doorstep.  If not...."
"If not, I hope we'll have a first aid kit handy for when she dismembers me tomorrow at noon," Peli replied morosely, dropping onto a pillow.
"Let's not engage in wild speculations, Miss Argentson," the old Asanii said with a slight smile, "Besides, I doubt a first aid kit will be much help in putting you back together after La'aina's finished with you."
"You cheer me so much," Peli muttered, and Edisse chuckled, patting her on the shoulder.
"It'll be fine, Pelipenele.  You'll see.  Now, keep yourself busy.  I'll stop you for dinner."
Peli nodded and dragged herself to her desk where the stone strips lay bundled beside a borrowed data tablet.  She had no heart for her work, even less when she looked at the statue of Seyela.  She'd wrapped the red ribbon from the party around its base.  Diabolical Du'er!  How could he scheme so with the minds and hearts of innocent people?
With a sigh, Peli set to work and, as always, became lost in it.  Taleyira, hot with anger, had challenged Seyela to a Rite of Defiance over the Heart Edera'yn.  All the gods and goddesses of the major pantheon attended, Laera and Zleayron, Tasenear, Yesier, Aura, and Zenoa, with Luer the Peace-Father serving as the arbiter.  After three days, Seyela won the verbal half of the Rite, and after a day's rest she and Taleyira met again for the physical match.  As the current mate and thus the Champion of the Heart, Taleyira chose the weapons for the duel, long, curving knives.
Peli was deeply engaged in translating the blow-by-blow account of the physical duel when Edisse tapped her on the shoulder for dinner.  They ate in silence; La'aina had not sent a courier, and it was growing late.  The Seersa's apprehension began to solidify into cold fear, while part of her screamed the absurdity of her situation.  She wanted nothing to do with any of this!  She didn't want to have to risk her life to win Du’er...win him!  She didn't even want him!  How in the name of the Four Sisters had she gotten into this mess?
After dinner, Peli used her borrowed data tablet to read her mail, tail restlessly twitching against her pillows.  She found an ad from her favorite orchestra on Selnor for their next performance in two weeks (she might be able to attend, if she was still in one piece)...a 3deo-clipping of a strange Terran musical production called Cats, sent to her by a friend who found the images of humans dressed up like Asanii very amusing...the latest catalog from Pathways, a company that sold reproductions of cultural artifacts...the news viseo from her home on Selnor.  Peli clutched the data tablet to her breast and experienced a fleeting moment of true despair.  She had no desire to die!  There was still too much to do!
The Seersa took herself firmly in hand.  La'aina would see reason and cancel the Rite.  Or if she didn't, she would survive.  The Rite usually ended when an opponent yielded, not with their death.  There was no need to become so overwrought.
Peli returned to her translation, but the gory account of the physical rite reminded her of the coming event and made her queasy besides, until she firmly abstracted the myth.  This Rite had happened in the beginning of Aeran time, when the goddesses fought the duels to the death as a matter of course.  It was a fantasy.  It had nothing to do with her.
Peli found she was a difficult person to convince.
Hours later, Edisse said reluctantly, "Go to bed, my girl.  You'll need your sleep."  The rest of the statement hung ominously in the air: when you fight La'aina tomorrow.  "I'll keep a watch."
Unwillingly, Peli nodded and wrapped up the stone strips.  She turned out the light, changed, and went to bed...but she didn't sleep.  When Edisse's light darkened several hours later, the Seersa was still awake.  And the courier did not come.

#

This is crazy!  This is absolutely crazy!
"This is crazy," Edisse said, echoing her thoughts.
Peli stood at the edge of the circle drawn in the sandy earth as other Aera found seats on the nearby ground to watch.  La'aina had not called off the Rite, and in fact had decided the physical duel would precede the verbal; as Peli had worriedly suspected, the Aera had chosen pikes as the weapon.  The Seersa was nearing desperation: now that the day was here and the sun was teetering at the edge of zenith, she could feel the jaws of the trap Du'er had set closing around her.
The setting was the essence of simplicity.  Near the digs, a circle twenty feet in diameter had been drawn in the earth and marked at the four compass points with stakes and tiny white flags.  One tent housed the Heart and another the Champion, while small awnings had been erected to shade spectators, of which there were already a formidable number. What better entertainment than half-naked females screaming insults or trying to gut each another?
"Dr. Edisse!" she exclaimed, but couldn't bring herself to say the rest: Get me out of this!  Find a way!  Help me!
The old Asanii squeezed her shoulder and said, "Don't lose hope.  There may still be a peaceful end to this."
"A peaceful end!" Peli squeaked.
"That brain of yours is formidable, Peli-pupil, or I never would have chosen you as an intern.  Don't disconnect it prematurely."
The jangling of hundreds of bells announced Du'er as he stepped from his tent surrounded by seven males with rings of bells and tambourines.  Forming an honor guard, they escorted him to a special awning just beyond the north end of the circle.  Peli watched him with disgust, outraged by the saucy, knowing wink he awarded her as he passed her by.
With trepidation, Peli turned her gaze to the tent of the Champion.  Five females assembled outside the tent and began ringing their bells.  With a last squeeze on the shoulder, Edisse left her standing on the edge of the circle and sat nearby.
La'aina stepped forth amid the cacophony; she had shed all her clothing save a turquoise loin wrap that echoed the eye-burning swirls of turquoise and fluorescent teal she'd painted across her red-brown and orange pelt.  Her white chest hair cascaded down to her stomach like a furry breast-plate, and she held her chin high, flashing blue eyes looking down on everything with disdain and rage.  The sun set the gold of her heavy hoop earrings a-fire.
She looked a lot like Peli's mental image of Taleyira, the Warrior Wife-goddess.  Too much like her.
La'aina stepped into the circle and held up her hands.  The jangling stopped.  "I, La'aina of Clan Sereon have declared the Rite of Defiance on Pelipenele Argentson for wearing the ribbon of my Heart's favor.  I have chosen the physical duel as the first half of the Rite, and the weapon of decision is the curved pike."
On cue, an Aera stepped up to each of them, holding the six and a half foot-long staves topped with the curving metal heads and their angry spikes.  The staves had been crafted of precious wood, oiled to a fine sheen.  Peli glanced at her pike in horror as La'aina continued.
"As according to ritual, the Challenger may now speak words on her role in the Rite."  La'aina leveled her glare on the Seersa.
Peli stared at some undefined point in the distance.  Last night in bed she had rifled through hundreds of responses to this question, her only chance to speak in her defense before the slaughter began.  There had to be something she could say to prevent this debacle, some way to take advantage of this last chance to speak, to make language the true weapon of this Rite, but nothing had occurred to her then.  She had to find something to say now...there had to be something she could do!
The Aera stared at her as she remained silent.  Peli glanced at her feet, mind blank despite all her frantic efforts.  She wore no shoes and had chosen the lightest, shortest tunic she owned for today, sleeveless and sky blue, unwilling to have her actions hampered by long skirts or slippery soles.  Already the hot sun pulled the oils from her fur, and she'd be panting soon.  Something to say, there must be something....Peli put her hand to her heart, hoping for inspiration.
And gasped.
"Dr. La'aina," she began, back straightening, "you have called this Rite because of Du'er's reports to you of our 'relationship' together, correct?"
"Yes," La'aina hissed, eyes thinning.  Dialogues were allowed in this last statement before the duel, but they were uncommon.
"You have read the transcript I provided you with of Du'er admitting he was attempting to manipulate us, correct?"
The crowd gasped, and Du'er's face contorted into a frown.
"Yes," La'aina answered.
"And you chose not to believe it?"
"It could have been forged," La'aina said, folding her arms.
The crowd listened, enrapt, no doubt wondering what Peli was planning.  Well, let them hear, then!
"Du'er did tell you on numerous occasions of our 'time' together, did he not?"
"Yes."
The sun poured on her, and Peli resisted her need to pant.  There would be time enough for that later.  "And he gave you graphic descriptions of my body, didn't he?"
"Yes." La'aina scowled.
"Did he tell you anything about particular parts of my body that were exceptional?"
La'aina's anger returned full-force to her eyes and body language; having to discuss her mate's glowing reports of his lover's body in front of a crowd of two-score Aera did not please her in the least.  Just a few more words, Peli thought pleadingly to La'aina, just a few more words and we'll expose him for what he is, and you can back out gracefully!
"He said that the areas you hid under your clothing were as white as snow, unmarred by spot or color."
It was a reasonable assumption, Peli knew.  Her rosettes spotted only the gray areas of her fur on the many parts of her body exposed by her summer clothes.  Du'er the sculptor, the visual artist, would certainly have observed that.  "He mentioned no exceptions, no spots at all?"
Du'er looked worried, the crowd excited.
La'aina frowned, more in puzzlement than anger.  "No."
Peli caught her fingers in the lacing of her tunic and pulled the neckline down, exposing the one, perfect rosette an inch and a half beneath her left collarbone.  "He didn't tell you about this one, then...because he's never seen it!  He was lying to you, Dr. La'aina!"
The crowd roared.  Du'er leaped to his feet in dismay as La'aina stared in shock at the rosette, not even the size of her open palm, the rosette that gave lie to the words of the Heart.
"He wants to leave you, La'aina," Peli finished calmly, heart pounding beneath her chest and hands trembling as they held the lapels of the tunic apart.
The female turned her burning gaze on Du'er and slowly grinned.  It was not a pleasant expression.  "Then he won't get the chance."  She held up her hands, "I am calling off this Rite!  It is...unnecessary."
The crowd laughed and cheered, breaking away from under the awnings to surround La'aina.  Peli didn't notice; she slowly sank to the ground, mouth open and tongue lolling, heart drumming a frenetic staccato.  She'd done it!
"I want the ribbon back," La'aina added to Peli, almost an afterthought.
"I'll return it immediately," the Seersa promised fervently.
The honor guard that had escorted Du'er in was now escorting him out, some of them angry, others amused, and still others with expressions of pity.  As they passed her, Du'er managed to jostle them to a halt and stared down at her, eyes cold with wrath.
"You never mentioned that rosette," he hissed.
Peli smiled thinly and answered, "You never mentioned the meaning of that ribbon."
Du'er would have spit on her had his comrades not grinned and dragged him away, leaving her with Edisse, who had pushed his way through the crowd to her side.
"Told you, m'girl," he said affectionately.
Peli groaned.  "Where's that first aid kit?  I think my heart's going to explode."
"I think he already did," Edisse replied with dancing eyes, watching Du'er's receding back.

#

Two weeks later, Peli leaned on the wall of her bunk on the courier ship Truewind.  Her small bag was packed securely above her in the luggage compartment, while a carefully cushioned box formed her foot-rest.  Pillows formed a nice back-rest for her, proper pillows that she'd found on her bed, not serving as furniture on the floor.  She was reading her mail.
'The Edera'yn myths, translated by Pelipenele Argentson, form a substantial and fascinating body of previously unknown mythology from the Aeran culture.  Edera'yn, the Fool-Lover god, apparently occupied the unique status in Aeran mythos of comic-relief.'
"Are you reading that article again?" Edisse said, leaning on the doorframe with folded arms and a grin.
"Well...yes," Peli replied, "It's the first time I've ever been in a journal!"
Edisse laughed, "I know, I know.  I was the one who saw it first, remember?"
"Only because they send professionals copies of the journal first!"
The Asanii chuckled and said, "Well, you're on your way to professional status yourself.  Your handling of the incident on Aren was masterful."
"Thank you," Peli replied smugly.  She shifted her feet on the box.
"You never did tell me what that was," Edisse said, pointing at her foot-rest.
"Just a gift," Peli answered easily, "A token souvenir from Aren."
"Ah!  Well, get your rest, Peli-pupil.  We'll only be on Selnor for three days, then it's off to Phoenix-Nest."
"Yes, sir!"
Peli watched her professor leave.  Her eyes fell on the box, where the figurine of Seyela and the ribbon nestled in the packing material. She grinned.
'Edera'yn's adventures trying to romance every goddess in the pantheon and the resulting mischief add a whole new facet to our understanding of the Aera.  Hitherto, we had never seen instances in their tales of an appreciation of the ridiculous.'
Peli leaned back and laughed in glee, exhilarated.  If her assignment on Aren had been intended to be 'dull', well...bring on the rosettes and ribbons!

***

About the author:

M.C.A. Hogarth has been many things--a web database architect, product manager, technical writer and massage therapist--but is currently a parent, artist, writer and anthropologist to aliens.

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