Baslik and Sark left off glaring at each other and both turned to face the Fenushian dignitaries.
“Thank you for receiving us,” Baslik said. “I am Lord Baslik Le’rank, Duke of the Northern Continent of Telmar Two and this is my wife, Lady Isla,” he added, nodding dismissively at me.
“Ah yes, the No-tail one you wish to become fertile. Yes, yes.” The striped person in the middle nodded. “But who is this one? Is he your third? Is he a One-Tail or a Two-Tail?”
“Don’t know anything about tails but I’m Sark—a Security Specialist,” Sark said shortly. “I’m here to make certain no one hurts Lady Isla in any way.” Here he shot a glare at Baslik, who pretended to ignore him.
“I am Feed’lix, the Two-Tail of our group,” the middle person said. “Also I am the emissary of our people. These are my mates—Tam’lah, our No-Tail and Churr’um, our One-Tail. We are all very pleased to meet you and welcome you to Fenushia Alpha.”
“Well—this is an odd Threesome,” the female person, whose name was apparently “Tam’lah,” remarked. “Two One-Tails and one No-Tail but no Two-Tails to be seen!”
“Indeed,” the male whose name was Churr’um, whom had been designated as a “One-Tail” said. “Are we to understand that your people have no Two-Tails at all to bridge the gap between your two main sexes?”
“What is all this ‘tails’ nonsense?” Baslik demanded impatiently. “I was told that you had a fertility festival which I and my wife could attend for a price. Is that true or not?”
The middle person named Feed’lix nodded.
“Indeed, it is true. But first you must all wear an identity band which shows your status and proclaims you a visitor to our fair planet.”
I didn’t think his planet at all fair—it was rocky and barren and I wondered how in the world these people lived. But before I could ask any questions, Tam’lah, the female, produced a small wooden box from somewhere. She opened it and inside I saw three black leather bracelets. They were all wonderfully worked with all kinds of symbols etched into the leather which had been dyed purple and blue and green.
Tam-lah gave a bracelet to Feed’lix, who approached Baslik and another to Churr’um, who came to stand by Sark. She then approached me with the third bracelet and asked me to hold out my hand.
“Since the two of us are No-Tails, I shall be the one to place your identity band,” she said to me. She had a sweet, clear voice like a bell ringing and though she was completely bald and spotted all over, I thought her quite lovely—her facial features were striking.
“Thank you,” I said, holding out my wrist for her to fasten the bracelet. I thought it might tie or snap together somehow, but there did not appear to be any leather thongs or metal snaps—indeed, the bracelet was nothing but an inch-thick strip of leather and I saw no way for it to fasten.
However, when Tam’lah pressed the two ends of the leather strip against each other, there was a hissing sound and a faint whiff of smoke as they sealed themselves together.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, looking with surprise down at the bracelet which now encircled my wrist quite snugly. All the blue and green and purple symbols etched into the leather had lit up and were glowing. I had thought that the leather arm band was primitive, but apparently it was quite a sophisticated piece of equipment.
“How did you do that?” I asked her. “How did you make it seal together like that?
“It is part of the technology of the identifier.” Tam’lah smiled at me. “Now it will be known by all who see you that you are a visitor to our planet and so not to be molested.”
“Molested?” I asked faintly.
“No One-Tails will attempt to enter your sacred honey mouth,” Tam’lah clarified, which helped me to understand not at all, I must confess. “Since you and I are both No Tails, I’m sure you can agree what an imposition it is when a One-Tail attempts to enter without consent.”
“Er, forgive me for asking, but why do you say that you and I are ‘No-Tails?’” I asked.
“Why—because we have no tails of course!” She laughed, like the tinkling of crystal bells.
“But…I do not see that the other two, er, people in your party have tails, either,” I remarked, looking pointedly at the backsides of Feed’lix and Churr’um.
“Oh, that is only because their garments are in the way. Feed’lix—Churr’um, attend to me, please!” she called.
Churr’um, the male person who had been called a “One-Tail” looked up at once from fastening the bracelet around Sark’s wrist. Feed’lix—the black and white striped “Two-Tail”—took a moment longer to respond. He and Baslik appeared to be involved in an intense and private conversation—probably about making me fertile, I thought dismally.