Eileen, diligent history researcher, hates her teaching job at a small university, but Bern is about to make her SETI dream come true.My main character is Eileen Power after a medieval and economic historian who died in 1940 of heart failure. Her namesake was a suffragette and traveled extensively in Europe and I love the way she writes! 30 Jan 2024
 SETI Renaissance

"These aliens are promising to clean up our pollution and give us unlimited energy and a multi-galactic trade network, but mark my words, when they round us up for slaves and make Earth a desert, you'll remember what I said." Mary gathered up her books and moved to another table in the break room.

I sighed. It's another day in this zoo, and I just want to be in some huge academic library doing research on medieval history in Europe. Instead, I'm preparing for tomorrow's next class with bored freshmen who aren't the least interested in why Roosevelt and Churchill worked together on common goals during World War II or why Roosevelt's New Deal got so much criticism from the public. Maybe because I'm bored to tears by modern history. Give me comparisons of barbarians and artisans, Italy's rudimentary approach to banking and Germany's to shipping--

And, this new treaty is fascinating! Aliens inviting us to two trade networks that work together for the common good. A treaty made up of provisions that could end poverty, pandemics, climate change, the list goes on. What I wouldn't give for a way to get at the sources I crave to prove my theories! A way to scan print books and collections for the information I want! Surely they have something I can use to speed up my research!

Does Mary even think of that? How their tech might actually make our tedious job of teaching bored students attractive to them? A way to tailor what we want to teach to their interests and needs? Ways to reach them and connect them to the work they want to do for the rest of their lives? No one wants to talk about that. Not here at this tiny college in Dalton, Georgia.

Your classes are boring, Eileen. You need to engage these students. I can't engage students. I hate teaching. I hate that I can't teach history. Half the time, I'm teaching freshman English--

And, I haven't eaten my doughnut. I wolfed it, then gathered up my laptop and realized I closed Life and Work in Medieval Europe by Eileen Power without saving it. That Eileen Power had a way with words I wish I had! She made it all sound simple, and in the most beautiful phrasing, such a powerful voice on paper. My papers don't really say it with my emotion. How did she do it?

Maybe it's the time period she lived in, and her British upbringing. If she hadn't died in 1940, I would've liked to have met her. I can't even remember to save my place. This laptop overheats. I noticed how very warm the bottom near the battery compartment was, as I shoved it into my dull maroon backpack with my notes. I've lost too many files on this thing to use Notepad. If it will just last through English Literature 200.

I walked out of the tiny break room and realized I had a smear of pink frosting on my left strap. And, it's on my white dress shirt's frill, too. If I stop to clean it, I'll be late.

I walked faster. It's 805 am and my class begins at 815 am. Just enough time.

Students passed lockers and got their books. Books. We should all be loading them on a laptop, not using physical books. These poorly-written textbooks. If I had gripping, exciting talent at writing about history as I have when talking about it, I could write a history text that would interest these freshmen, I just know it!

But if I have to teach, I'd rather teach a graduate class to people in love with history. I sighed and opened the door to my classroom. Found a napkin in my—oh, wet wipes! I did put a fresh pack in my middle drawer.

I pulled one and wiped my poor shirt first, and frosting smeared, but I finally got it off.

"Mrs. Power?"

"Miss Power. Pam, is it?"

She blinked. Too much mascara. "Yes, Miss Power. I'm late with my paper. Could I have a couple more days to work on it? I'm having trouble with my sources, and the librarian—"

I stopped in mid-wipe. She's crying, so I got a second wet wipe for her. "Pam, I'm sorry you're having trouble, but if I extended the deadline for you, I'd have to do it for everyone. I can give you an extra credit project. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes! I need to pull my grades up. They put me on second shift, but night shift calls in a lot and last night I worked 16 hours straight again."

"Bless your heart!" I finally got the frosting smear out of the stitching on my strap and pulled everything out. She looks exhausted. "Can't they give you comp days when you work over?"

"Comp days?"

"When I was an undergraduate and had a job for the state, if I worked over they gave me time off."

"I'm only part-time, so I need the extra shifts to pay our rent. My husband misses a lot of days because he's so sick."

I found an extra credit sheet. "Here you go."

She looked it over. "What topic should I write about?"

"Anything you want. It doesn't have to be research. It can be poetry, or an essay, pick something you are passionate about. I can give you 10 points on your final grade. Just make sure you meet the deadline next time, okay?"

"Oh, thank you, Miss Power!" She went back to her seat happy.

The speaker came on. "In light of today's historical event, the president of Dalton College would like all classes to watch the UN livestream. There is one for each committee of the UN, so there should be one that fits your subject matter. All exams are canceled today."

How they think I will get all my lectures in, I don't know, but I can't argue. We are making history today.

I connected my laptop and brought up Chrome. Then the UN. The list included Committee On Literacy. What better topic for a literature class, anyway? "Everyone, we will be watching the livestream, but please, put your papers here on the right side of my desk. Here's the Literacy stream. Anyone think we should choose any other committee?"

No one raised a hand, so I started the livestream.

"...what these terminals could do for every child globally! All they have to do is think to this." The lady held up a green cube. It looked plastic, but threw rainbows in circles where the light passed through. Pretty. "It works by telepathy. One of the diplomats told me this is a new innovation in the Alliance and Unified, from just a couple of weeks ago! Think of something you want to read about, and it's a lot like the Internet, but look! I thought of Louisa May Alcott, but something I haven't read. It knew I haven't read Work or Hospital Sketches. Or, let's try something harder. I want a book about medieval artisans, let's make it hard, something about medallion-carving."

One source came up about 9th century medallions. Not bad.

SMALL MURAL KHACHKARS IN MEDIEVAL ARMENIAN COMMUNITIES

OF CRIMEA, GALICIA, PODOLIA, AND BESSARABIA

Patrick DONABÉDIAN

Aix Marseille Université, CNRS, LA3M, Aix-en-Provence, France

But then it came up with several others, and asked to contact the library that had the paper! Contact information came from the repository's website. Nice! A lot of very specialized sources are not on Google. This lady did her research!

"So, if you need to find out about something obscure, the terminal can help you. But, I have permission to run a prog by DNA that is on it. If I want to find things that someone related to me threw away, say, family photographs, these can be found by searching for my DNA. I have not done this yet, so terminal, please find photographs with my DNA on them."

Instantly, photographs came up in neat rows in front of her face. "Oh, that's one of my baby pictures! This is my mother—"

Her entire family tree came up, and the photographs with people in them circled around the names. And, pictures of places went to people with those places in their records!

"Let me explain—" her voice broke. "My family, we were refugees 20 years ago. Armenia had an earthquake, and we lost everything! But these are the actual photographs, repaired, cleaned, and restored! A notice, here—" She pointed to other little pictures. "—lets me know I have other items. I was small, so there are blankets, clothing, toys, dishes, all that have my DNA. Some of these things belonged to my sister who died there. Let me stop this and talk about other uses for these terminals."

My family died in a tornado, so I felt her pain. But no, not here. I blinked back my tears and took a deep breath.

A white cloth appeared and she took it. Wiped her face. All of her makeup came off with it, without a stain on it! "The device can make things for you. I was about to get a tissue from my purse. This is better. It is warm. Perhaps I do not look as attractive now, but—"

A menu came up with makeup options, and she chose one that was like she had. "Oh, my, I do not feel this!" A mirror came up and she looked. Smiled.

Children Benefit

"The UN will vote about the terminals. There is a document—yes. The Agreement Between Earth and the Alliance to Allow Provisional Membership. They will vote on this today. If the UN passes it unanimously, every person on Earth, even children, will get a terminal. The document spells out the rights of parents for their children's use of the terminals. Children who do not have a parent, who, perhaps live on the street, they will get one for basic needs such as food, shelter, clothing and transportation to a safe place. And, education. With these terminals, anyone who is hungry can eat."

Then she went on about what this means for literacy. "These terminals will put information, in the language of the person using it, in the hands of each man, woman, and child on Earth. To demonstrate, here is my friend Sydney, and her baby, Claudia. Claudia is 5 months old and babbles. She volunteered to bring Claudia here to demonstrate how even a very young baby can use one of these terminals. Babies learn words before they can speak them. I will let Sydney explain as she gives Claudia a terminal."

Sydney looked a bit nervous. "All right. Here is my terminal. Please make a terminal for Claudia." Another cube rose out of hers. It floated to Claudia.

Sydney put it in Claudia's hand. "Claudia, think of something you want to see."

A holo of a cat came up. She reached, and the cat came closer. Even though this was a hologram, she could touch the cat and the cat rubbed against her hand and purred.

Claudia giggled.

"Claudia, want to read a book?"

She cooed. A book came up and moved so she could grab it. A laugh.

Sydney read, "A Trip To The Grocery Story, by Alicia Parson. This is a book that a child wrote and contributed to Bloom.

"Today we went to the Grocery store.

I wanted to get cookies

Mama wanted a chicken for supper

Daddy wanted rice to go with chicken

My sister Ida wanted ice cream to go with the cookies.

But we got mixed up.

Ida brought chocolate chip cookies, that's her favorite.

Mama brought brown rice, that's her favorite.

Daddy got a huge turkey, that's what he likes.

And since Ida got the cookies she likes, I got pistachio ice cream which is my favorite.

Mama looked at the cart.

She made Ida put the chocolate chip cookies back.

She asked me to get sugar cookies. Everyone in our family likes those.

The book went on with Mama's substitutions and the sentence 'Everyone in our family likes those.'

Claudia didn't finish that one, but another one came up.

"As you can see, a 5 month old can operate the terminal and get what she wants. She can also think of toys and family members. I asked the terminal not to call people and not to port the cat here, which it can do! I can also limit cookies until after lunch." People laughed. "Oh, and watch this!"

She started to put Claudia on the floor. A blanket spread itself down. "In this time of COVID, I'm sure a lot of you with babies are worried about germs. If I start to put her on the floor, because I explained my worry to my terminal, now a blanket goes first. If it gets something spilled on it, a vaporizer runs to clean it.

"This vaporizer does not hurt me or Claudia, or even our cat! While I was at home, I spilled Claudia's chocolate milk on our cat. You may know that chocolate is very poisonous to dogs and cats, and milk can make cats sick. While I was holding our cat so she could not lick the chocolate milk, my terminal ran a vaporizer on Millie.

"As you see, Millie is fine, though she became frightened. My terminal knew she was frightened, so it talked to her in my voice and gave me a clean blanket for her to crawl under. It knew, when Millie is frightened, the first thing she does, is find a blanket or something to crawl under. And, it is warm. Millie is old and she gets cold a lot. So her blanket is always warm, unless Millie is too warm, then it gets cool. I have noticed this, when Millie sits over the heat vent, that if her fur is warm, she doesn't want to get under a blanket. So, if her fur is warm, the blanket is cooler."

The book changed to a book about a cat and a blanket. Claudia giggled.

The other lady smiled. "Thank you, Sydney. Here is Marsha, who has a child who is 5. In the United States, this is a kindergarten-aged child. Bobby can read, but he has dyslexia. Marsha, give Bobby a terminal."

He watched it and his brown eyes opened very wide.

"My son has a speech impediment, so he doesn't talk much when we're around a lot of people. If he talks to his phone using voice recognition, he is one of 90% of people who have trouble making voice recognition understand him. So, we worry about as he gets older, if he is at a friend's house, or between locations, and needs help, can he get his phone to dial us? Bobby, this is a special computer. You can think to it. Think of a book you would like to read."

He nodded and made a face. A book came up. The first Harry Potter.

He started to read aloud, and he mumbled. Looked away, with a sigh.

But the page of the book had different colors on the words. He noticed that one had a yellow highlight. He read the word. 'Ha-haaa-ee. Haa-hr—Harry. Harry!" He struggled through a sentence, but as he read, it went from unintelligible to easily understood. Like the thing was coaching him.

His mother looked very surprised!

The other lady smiled. "What is it? Is this like when Bobby reads?"

"No! Usually we do what his speech therapist says. We encourage him to sound out the word and he'll ask if that's right, then we pronounce it, and he struggles again. It can take 15 minutes to get a word, one word. I—"

"Harry lived under da stairs."

Mom nearly fell over! "That's right! That's great, Honey!"

I noticed that the sound muted when either of them talked, and when they gave the attention to Bobby, his sound was on.

They brought a child in a wheelchair next. "This is Verbena. She has been in a wheelchair since she had surgery at 2 so she can sit up. She is 12 and in 1st grade. She loves to read, but is also vision impaired. She has never used one of these terminals. But, as you can see, she knows how to control her wheelchair, and she hears me just fine. Come on up, Sweetie."

Verbena drove her chair up to the counter, frowned, then brought her wheelchair closer.

The lady put the cube in Verbena's hand and she giggled.

"Think of a book you like to read."

A copy of the 1st Harry Potter came up.

"Oh, her sister reads this one to her. Verbena uses a word board with symbols. She's pointing to—"

"I love Harry Potter! I wish I could do magic, so I could make myself able to run! I love my wheelchair, but I can't go where I want. Wow! This thing is great! I can talk! That's my voice!" She laughed. The terminal spoke and she thought it sounded like she would.

"That's wonderful! So it can talk for her a lot faster than she can point to her symbols on her lapboard! What's happening?"

The lapboard lifted up. Verbena giggled. Then she rose up off the chair and onto the floor. Her legs were bent, but supports appeared for her legs, and her arms, with little platforms for her fingers. She unbent from the hips a bit. Then one leg slid forward a little. She frowned. The leg went back about halfway. She smiled again. Then her body leaned a little forward and the other leg slid forward.

"Look! I can walk! Oh, this is great!"

Another lady came running. "Oh, my, she shouldn't be—let me get you back—"

A voice came from the green cube. "Mrs. Soulee, if you are frightened, I will put her in her chair—"

"No, please, let me walk!"

"Do you have pains or discomfort?"

"No. These braces are warm. I can move better with 'em warm like that. I like standing. This is like my physical therapist does, until I get tired."

"It won't drop her, will it?"

"I have a containment around her. She will not fall or have injury. When she tires I will put her back in her chair. If you like, I can bring a healer who can heal her."

"Like, an alien healer?"

"He is Zheien. His name is Pie, and he is watching. I asked him to monitor so I did not risk injury to her. Would you like to speak to him? He is like you except he has twin fingers like many diplomats who spoke in various committees today. He wishes to demonstrate Zheien Healing, which is telepathic healing. When Earthans have aandats, they can acquire telepathy and some of them might wish to learn this healing."

Mom frowned. "Okay. Is that all right, Miss Jenny?"

"That is fine!"

A hologram of him came up. He looked at Verbena. "I wish ne to frighten anyone. Verbena, will you let me touch your head?"

"My head? But my leg doesn't work right. My arm." She slid a leg forward. "I want to run!"

"Ah, Daughter, I know you do. But first, I must put my hands on your head, to see how your body works with my telepathy. I ne wish to risk harming you. Your Earthan doctors say, 'Do No Harm.' Your body will teach me, what we can do to heal you. Is this a good plan?"

"It's good! Okay, body, teach him!"

He laughed and held his hand against hers. "I will let you know me before I touch your head."

She tried to bend her fingers. "Oh, that's warm. Warm and soft. Hands aren't that warm and soft as yours."

"I am Zheien. My body must be warmer than yours. Your temperature is warm enough, but your arms and legs are too cold for you. Now I can touch your head, if you are comfortable."

"Yes. I am comfortable, but I am tired now."

"Then, sit on your chair, and I can see you." He very gently picked her up, making sure all of her was supported.

"Wow, my care aide isn't as careful as you are! It took forever to teach her. Mama had to do it."

"O, I am very careful. There. Are you comfortable now?"

"Yes. Why am I tired? Kids run and they don't get tired fast."

"Everyone gets tired, but when one has to work very hard to move, they get tired faster."

He spread his fingercorners—rectangular fingers—across her forehead.

"What do you see?"

"I see how hard it is for you to move, Daughter. I must see all of you before I can tell you what I can do. When I reach the back of your head, perhaps I can tell you more."

He felt of her head for a long time, and started over twice. Then he held her hand again. "I must do a lot of healing, but your body cannot take much at a time, because you are small. I must see you several times. Today, I can bring friends to sing with me, and I will sing to you. I think you will sleep. Will this frighten you?"

"No, I take a lot of naps."

He nodded.

"You have pretty eyes. I never saw anyone with red eyes before. Except in movies."

Pas smiled. "Zheien have more variety in eye colors than Earthans, but I think your eyes are beautiful. They are very dark brown, and pretty. Are you ready for me to heal you?"

"Yes! How long before I can run?"

"I cannot promise that you will run. I will heal what your body can stand, today, and I will come back, perhaps to your home if your parents wish me to come, and I will do more healing tomorrow. We will learn together, how to heal you."

"Okay. Thanks!"

"You are welcome. I am eager to see you run, but Father Of All decides such things."

He stepped out of the hologram, and three other twin-fingered people, all orange like him. Then they sang like angels. White light outlined her. When they sang the song several times, she laid in her chair sleeping, but her legs were straight. Her arms were, too. And, she looked bigger! He waved, and her chair got a little bigger!

Her mother felt the kid's face. "You fixed her teeth? Oh!"

A hand squeezed her arm. Verbena smiled.

"Baby, you can squeeze my arm? She's never been able to grab. You fixed her legs! And her arms! Her back's not bent! Thank you!" She sobbed.

"I must see her again tomorrow when she wakes. There is much more that she needs. I wish to send a healer home with her, so if she wakes and has pain, he can bring me. I know you do not sleep in a group, but in our culture, healers sleep on the same bed with an unwell so we can heal them quickly if they have pains. Some wake fearful after large changes such as this."

"I—I don't know about sleepin' in the same bed, now."

"I can make her bed large enough that you and your husband may also sleep on her bed tonight. And, I can send one who has already slept, and can wake over her. I must sleep, but Oesmes will wake me if she has a need." Pas stroked her braids. "May I loosen her hair?"

"Usually I put her braids up and leave 'em. If I don't, she gets all tangled. Your hair is different." She looked at his red waves.

"Ah, our hair is different than an Earthan's. We can bend our hairs slightly. You cannot."

"Really? But her hair's Black hair. It tangles easier than a white person's hair, or a Hispanic person's."

"O, I see. I can write a prog to keep her from tangles. You use products to add moisture, but this prog can do so. Will you try?"

She frowned, but set sliders to different styles until she found one she wanted, and nodded. Her hair unbraided and went into the style. A mirror showed her what she looked like. The woman giggled. "That feels good! Let's do Verbena."

Verbena's hair did the same thing. Her mom felt it. Her brown eyes opened wide. "It's so soft! How'd you do that?" Then she touched her hair. "Mine's just as soft, but it's grownup hair that feels like a kid's!"

"I ne know how the prog works, but I can ask one to explain who writes progs—"

Verbena turned over. Her mom gasped! "She can turn her self! I never saw her do dat!"

Pie smiled. "Ah, our healing is very well, then."

She rubbed her daughter's arm and when she took her hand, Verbena pulled it to her cheek and went limp. Her mom cried.

The other mom brought Bobby. He mumbled something.

Pas smiled. "Would you like me to try?"

"Yes! Please!"

Pie felt his head and sang something pretty. "Now, tell me how you feel, my son."

"Ahh." He frowned and hid his head in his mom's stomach.

But Pie knelt by him. "Be ne embarrassed. We must teach your mouth his new talk. Be patient with him."

"P-paeeh. Ah!" He whined.

"O, try again. Your body is trying to do as you wish."

"He is? Oh, he is! Ah, do I have t' be pah—paee pati-patient? I said it! I said it, Mama! Patient! My mouth don' have to be patient any more! Ha ha!"

Then he went and hugged Pie. "Oh, thank you! Will Verbena be able to run?"

"I nae know yet, but we can heal her more. She needed much healing today."

"She sure did, if she couldn't even turn over! Or grab. I can grab. But it feels good to be able to talk without—talk so people can get what I'm sayin'! Computer, show me Harry Potter!"

The book appeared again. "Harry lived under the stairs...." He read several pages while his mother looked on. He didn't hesitate or read in that flat tone boys do when it's hard. He sounded excited and happy!

Pie looked really happy, too.

Another mom brought a blind kid and he healed him. Then, the bell rang for class to be over. Oh, I wished for one of those terminals!

Visitors And SETI

People kept watching as they left. I wanted to see more, too, but I went ahead and turned it off. My laptop was warmer than it was last time. But, it made it through. I unplugged it then wound up all the wires. Put it into the backpack, and all my notes I was going to talk about today. And, I put all of the papers into a folder and slid it in. What a day! I put on my backpack, made sure my desk was locked, turned out the light, and left. It's 9:05 am. I don't teach another class on Wednesdays this term. I planned to use the rest of today in Atlanta doing research.

Two men in white suits—odd color—with sashes across their chests. Diagonal sashes with pins. They came over. "Miss Power?"

"Yes?"

"I am Bern, Elder Of Elshar. I wish to discuss medieval history with you."

"Really? I love medieval history!"

The other one looked at him. "This is well, but perhaps you should discuss SETI."

"Did you see that man heal that little girl? And, those pocket computers. I wish I could get one."

Bern put one in my hand. I gasped. "Oh, thank you! But, it must cost a lot. I shouldn't."

"Soon, everyone on Earth will have one. They told us we may give them to anyone who wishes one."

Pam came up. "Anyone?"

"Here is one for you."

"And, I don't have to pay for it?"

"Nae! You may use it freely."

"And, does it run out?"

The both frowned. "Run? Perhaps to run a prog? Eae, it will run, but it will stay with you."

"I mean, will it run out of batteries? If I use it now, can I use it later to help my husband?"

"O, it will function as long as you are near a Hub. Earth is using the Nefstem Hub, so you would have to travel as far as Alb before it ceased to function."

She looked at it, then through it. "So, it doesn't have batteries?"

They looked confused, so I tried to think of a different word. "Will it lose power after a while?"

Then the other one got it. "O, she has power. Until Earth chooses whether to join the Alliance, the Unified, both or neither one, she will have power. She will function."

"Earth might not join? B-But, that's terrible! Why wouldn't Earth want to do that?" Pam clutched the cube, as if it might fly away.

"The United Nations must vote Monday, and the vote must be unanimous, for Earth to join the Alliance. If one delegate votes no, Earth will nae join. But, next Monday, he votes on whether to join the Unified. This cube is a Unified terminal. Alliance terminals are as this." He waved and held a silvery coin. "They have nae as much capacity as Unified terminals, but they have storage. So on both these votes, the UN can join or nae. All must agree for Earth to join."

Pam's lips trembled. "If only one person votes no, we don't get to keep these? It's so unfair!"

The other one put a hand on her hands. "I am very sorry. But you may use her, all you want, until the votes."

She stared at him with those huge brown eyes. "C-could we—I mean—how much does a healer cost?"

"Is there one in your home who needs healing?"

"M-my husband. H-he was painting and fell off some scaffolding. A friend brought him home. He said he was okay, but since then—he gets sick. He can't stay at work."

"O, we have a clinic in the Atlanta Alliance Embassy. Would you like us to bring a car for you? Our clinic is free. We are nae busy yet because we just opened today."

"Yes! Oh, I'd love for Miguel to see a doctor! He says he's okay—but he's not!"

"Here is my friend, Apon. He will take you to your home, and then speak with your husband. Is this well?"

"Yes! I'm really worried. Thanks for the terminal! Thanks very much!" She went with the other one, who also wore the same white suit.

"I'm glad you could help her. Sounds like she has a very rough life." Pam looked happier as she went with the man.

Bern took my hand and my heart skipped. He's handsome. But, when he did, I felt something and the hall vanished.

I walked in white sand. Blue sky.

I saw a group of Elshars sitting in the flowers and heard the accent. Not the harsh, guttural sound of your typical Elshar! These men spoke softly and used long, almost musical phrases. They wore decorated robes that had jewels and acted very formal. Such a contrast to the white-robed healers leading shaky patients beside huge buildings full of equally huge beds for group sleeping. The bright colors of the glass-like buildings, the brilliant flowers against the white sand, and the mix of species had me rather bewildered.

Since coming to the Rainbow Colony, I didn't know what to do with myself. I had a bad experience with an Elshar on Earth, and had to come to Alb Seer so his slaver friends wouldn't get me. I'd been a part-time student and full-time secretary. There are no secretaries much here, except in the Earthan Embassy. There's no turnover in the secretarial pool, and they just set appointments and mediate trade disputes. I wouldn't know how—

One of the men jumped up and gave a formal bow with a few quick steps. "Esta ah ferris!"

I frowned. "You're here to help me? I'm sorry, I don't speak good Elshar."

He smiled. "Ah, you speak Columbian. I offered you a blessing, which is how a true Elshar greets another. Forgive me. You appear Elshar with your blue eyes and long, dark hair. I admire your dress; it is pleasant, to see a woman who appreciates fine clothing and modesty. Your flowers are beautiful, but you walk as a fine Elshar woman, full of grace." Slowly, he came up from his low bow, and swept a muscular arm to his three friends. Two men and a woman, dressed in a frilly, beautiful deep blue dress to her ankles. Mine was almost that long, with a shallow V-neck that was about as modest as her scoop neck. She wore long sleeves, and I had short, puffy ones.

I'd designed this dress like one I'd seen when I dated Morisch, before I knew he was a slaver. There were good things, elegant things, about Elshars. The group had light eyes except for the woman, but she smiled, too.

I pulled at my full skirt and gave a curtsy. In my best Prov One accent, I tried to answer him. "You are very polite, and I am most rude. If I will not disturb you, I wish to join your group and practice my Elshar. Perhaps you do not mind if an inexperienced one listens, to learn from you." I sat by the lady.

She laughed. Also in Elshar, she spoke before my companion could sit by me. "Are you Earthan? I am Cassandra Gary, wife of Berto beside me, and Bern, who greeted you, is also teaching me. He is from Elshar, the Motherworld, and knows polite customs not practiced on any Elshar colony today."

My heart beat up in my throat! I'd wanted to learn-- I looked in his eager face, a man in his 20's? Wait a min. I was 25. "My dissertation was on Elshar history, and I wish to learn from you! Pardon my rudeness, but you appear very young, to be from Elshar. Were you in stasis long years?" My face burned. If he was, it might've been horrible—

But, his eyes wavered between very light and dark. "Esta, I was in stasis long years. Slavers captured me. But, I am healthy, Maiden. Are you a maiden?"

Was that a dream? I stood in the same hall with white tile. But, that was Bern! And, memories kept coming. We courted for weeks, and finally, married. And, instead of teaching disinterested students, here, I taught excited students in very small groups, outside in the sand and the flowers. "Bern, can I go to Alb Seer with you?"

He laughed and hugged me. "I will take you anyplace you wish to go! But the Rainbow you remember is not on Alb Seer now. I live on Elshar Zheiea. But Rainbow is on 24 worlds in Alb. You may choose which world you wish to live on and I will go there with you!"

"Oh, I wouldn't ask you to move for me!"

Bern laughed and danced with me. I knew this dance, and we danced around each other. Step and half turn. Clap! Step and half turn. Clap! His blue eyes turned light, and I pictured the same thing happening to mine! Oh, I didn't want the moment to end!

When we made a complete circle, ten steps, I realized people were watching!

I never sang or danced in front of anyone, until I met Bern. Then he taught me a lot of them, and each dance had a song. I sang a courtship song and we danced to it.

My deepest blue shows my serious side

But hidden in my heart is the happy blue

And even the deep blue is light and dances

As my eyes dance for you.

The words were in Elshar, a language Earth never knew.

Bern sang harmony. My mother taught me to sing. She was an opera singer and gave voice lessons. But she could never get me to sing for anyone but her.