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Life Goes On (IC)


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It was difficult to imagine speech that consisted of clicks, but how much more different were clicks from the rumbling, earthy tones of Khaladi than the melodious Persian language? Far more amazing was that there was such a wide variety of languages on a single planet, and for each of them a culture with unique customs and traditions. Earth was huge, it seemed, both in size compared to Khalados and in the diversity of its populace. He was glad to know someone who understood more than one culture; it gave him a bit of a leg up in seeing the big picture.

If the smells outside the restaurant had been wonderful, they were almost overpowering now that the food was actually in front of him. And what a feast! There was far more than he could eat, he was sure, but he resolved to give it a valiant effort. Hesitating a moment, he watched Mona carefully. With a little observation on his side, he began to grasp the function of the strange eating utensils placed before him; the spoon was familiar to him, as was the knife, but not so the fork. Fortunately, he was able to use it with modest proficiency after seeing it used.

"Thank you," he replied to her compliment about his English, beaming with pleasure; it was a good thing Physicus had spoken in a very unaffected way. She brought up the possibility of a language repository, and he nodded, sobering somewhat. "That is an excellent suggestion; we'll have little use for Khaladi here, but it would be a shame to... lose a piece of home, is the best way to put it. I'll see if I can contact them."

Taking another eager bite of his absolutely delicious dish, an explosion of flavor the likes of which he'd never thought possible, he chewed, swallowed, and spoke again. "Despite the vast number of living languages here, then, I imagine there are also many which aren't spoken any longer."

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Always eager for a good meal, Fulcrum enjoyed every bite and a little wine to wash it down. The cuisine really did seem like old hat to her. Meaning of course that she knew just how to approach the meal for maximum satisfaction. Really amazing how the ritual itself could be so important to the experience. After a couple of good bites, she motioned over her plate and smiled, "You're welcome to try mine. I promise I won't bite."

"Yes, a lot of languages aren't spoken anymore. In fact I read somewhere that this world was experiencing a mass language extinction. Distinct dialects and small-group languages are particularly vulnerable. One reason why the LLL was established I suppose," added Mona thoughtfully. After another bite, "Some languages were just lost to time. Evolved to the point were the original was unrecognizable or not spoken. Those are just the Earth languages too. From what I understand, other dimensions all have their unique communication modes too. Fascinating stuff."

"How is your food?"

Off in the distance, Mama Marta could be spotted watching the two from behind a low dividing wall.

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Mona clearly knew exactly what she was doing when it came to this sort of food; not only had she known exactly what she wanted the moment she walked into the place, probably even the moment she thought of it, she also seemed to eat in a specific manner. It was something Zakitaj could only catch glimpses of, uninitiated as he was in the art of dining, but once he saw it he began to watch her even more carefully. When she offered him a bit of her dish he accepted with a smile and an elegant incline of his head, then gathered some with his knife and fork, using them as gracefully as he could manage.

He nodded at her continued talk of languages; the idea of countless forms of communication was an amazing one indeed. The thought of other dimensions, however, he blocked out as quickly as he could. Khaladi scientists had been working on the "Negative DIstance Theory", which stated that a person could effectively travel a negative distance by entering an opposite plane of existence, for two hundred years. It was entirely possible that, beyond the barrier of time and space, a race of opposite Khaladi lived; perhaps they had soundly defeated the Broan, or even taken their place.

When Physicus has arrived, his teleportation had been studied, but never successfully mimicked; the "zero barrier" of space had never been broken, but he'd learned more than he ever wanted to about it in school. And if the opposite Khaladi spoke an opposite language, how many languages must there be on an opposite Earth? Had the Earthlings cracked the zero barrier with their comparatively primitive science? Mona seemed to speak of other dimensions casually. Then she asked about his food, and he decided not to bring it up; it was more than a little embarrassing.

"On Khalados," he said, "Not only was there no food with any desirable taste, but there were no oceans. My first experience with an ocean was when I dropped into one from orbit this morning, and I couldn't have imagined it until I was mere feet above its surface. This food; it's rather like that. No description could've explained it to me until I tried some myself. And while I don't really have anything to compare it to, it's... it's marvelous. I don't know the specific words to describe it, but it's marvelous." He thought for a moment, then spoke again with a laugh. "I would ask how yours is, but I just had some, so I know you chose well."

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"Probably the reason it is my favorite," she chuckled, taking another bite, "Save room for dessert. Tia Marta's makes some of the best sweet treats you'll likely ever taste." Sipping her wine, she made note of Zakitaj watching her. At first the habit seemed curious, but given he was, after all, from a vastly different culture, he would want to know dining etiquette, and yes, even how to use the utensils. So she just continued on, doing her best to be a proper lady.

Something did come to mind and she looked up at him, "You're not expected to eat all of this at one sitting. Mama Marta designs her dishes family style, which means huge portions. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I'm taking a lot for granted since its second nature to me."

"So your people do 'date'? I'm kind of surprised to be honest. Many human cultures have no concept. Either you're courting for marriage or living in sin." Her hand karate chopped the air in two spots for emphasis.

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Save room? How in all the cosmos was he supposed to do that? Back on Khalados, it was a severe offense to the host not to eat everything provided, a custom dating back to the days of nomadic hunting when no food could be spared and an offering of any was a tremendous gift and sacrifice. On feast days, when families traveled from household to household to enjoy one another's hospitality, it was customary to eat nothing all day, and sometimes for half the day before, in order to get up enough of an appetite to devour everything at several houses.

And then she made mention of the fact that customs were different on Earth once again. It was interesting that he had been given too much food knowingly; he didn't really understand why, but it was a relief, certainly. Though he actually hadn't eaten anything in more than a day, and technically more than eight years, he still wasn't sure he could've finished off a second course. "Oh, thank you," he laughed, though it was clear that he meant his words sincerely. "I was getting worried."

Then she asked about dating, and he tried to think up a brief explanation; he was still afraid of boring her. "Well, yes and no. There's a certain expectation among my people that all successful relationships lead eventually to marriage, but the road that goes there is left unmonitored. There are certain rules of behavior that determine whether or not you're perceived as polite, and they're very detailed and intricate rules, but there are always those among us who are attracted to those who break the rules, so it works both ways. Sometimes breaking the rules means not getting married at all; the elders frown, but nothing else happens."

He thought for a moment, then spoke up again. "Of course my father, charmer that he was, was one of the people who didn't play by the rules. But he was a prince, and then king for about twelve seconds." A shadow of pain passed over his face at that last bit, then vanished as he went on. "And no matter how much he disrespected the elders, laughed at them and mocked them, they never dared disrespect him, so he got away with what he liked. I wouldn't call what he did 'dating', exactly, but if he hadn't I wouldn't be here, so I can't complain overmuch."

Pausing, he reflected on some of her earlier words. "Interesting that your mother was much the opposite of my father. You said she was conservative; what does she think about this sort of thing?"

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Slowing down to a nibble, Fulcrum shrugged, "I don't think she really likes it, to be honest. I know she accepts that we're in a country where that sort of thing is normal and acquiesced, but still isn't very happy about the situation. Plus she won't tell us what bothers her about dating. She just mumbles something about being disrespectful and changes the subject." Although the subject matter was a bit heavy, Mona had a wistful look to her.

"Mom is just very protective of her girls. Although the U.S. is somewhat progressive in that area, my folks come from a culture that has fallen into, frankly, misogynistic habits. Even the U.S. is still guilty at times. Some people, especially men, think they can tell women, random strangers on the street, whether or not they are dressed 'modestly' or 'appropriately'," she said, shaking her head, "Which is nothing compared to the things I've heard from other, less secular or developed countries."

"No way I'm going to tell her about how many lovers I'd had. She would probably have a coronary and drop dead. Even as Westernized as she is, the thought of her daughter not being a virgin on her wedding day she just will not accept." Fulcrum chuckled into her glass, "Okay, didn't mean to get into that territory."

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Zakitaj didn't understand, really; his people had always been so desperate merely to survive that both sexes had been hardy and gender equality was an unquestioned necessity. He almost laughed out loud at the thought of anyone telling Mona how she should run her life; such a person would have to be very foolhardy or very zealous, since the truly brave knew discretion. Still, he understood that it wasn't an easy topic for her, and regretted bringing it up; she'd brought back his less fond memories, to put it mildly, and it seemed he'd unknowingly returned the favor.

His heart dropped a little bit when she said "multiple lovers", but his mind saw the irony: he, the son of a man who slept with any woman with a pulse, was a virgin; she, the daughter of a woman who was very conservative on the subject, was not. Each was a rebel in one way or another, and the fact that the universe had brought them together across six light years was deeply amusing. If he believed in a higher power, he would've complimented its sense of humor. He waved away her apology. "That's alright. My people have a proverb: if you make a road from mind to sound, there will always be bandits on it."

He thought for a moment; there was a question he was interested to have answered, but he didn't want to push Mona further into memory than she wanted to go. "As the child of a single parent, I have to ask: was your father involved in your life? If you'd rather not talk about it, I understand; this is meant to be a pleasant time, not an interrogation." He smiled, his eyes containing interest and cautious friendly concern.

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She wasn't sure, but somehow his response to her apology seemed hollow. She just couldn't put her finger on how exactly. Considering her past experiences, the obvious answer was that Zakitaj desired or valued sexual purity. The entire concept seemed farcical to Mona but did jive reasonably well with what he had said about his culture. Even more, perhaps he overcompensated against his father's philandering.

A shame...

...still, she could be overreacting. Hopefully the vibe didn't get the right interpretation. Given that he was still alien, even if very human, she probably wasn't reading his body language and inflection properly. Hopefully that was the case. He was polite and handsome, a rare combination.

A smirk crept up her face as she mused, and nearly made her miss his reply. "Like most proverbs, the actual meaning you must decipher for yourself, but I think I understand."

Her first instinct was to simply clam up at his line of questioning. She did stop eating a moment and think it over, but then shrugged and continued eating. Between bites, she said, "No, not at all. Especially if we can trade childhood stories. I never knew my father. My mother came to this country while pregnant with me. My father stayed behind to ferry some family and colleagues to safety and was killed during the Revolution. All I have are a few old stories and photos. He was a doctor that taught at a medical school. Apparently very well respected at the university, and also very loving and loyal to all who knew him."

"I didn't have a father figure until 14 when my mother remarried. Surprisingly my stepfather and I meshed very well. He is a good man and, ironically, more accepting of me than my mother has been." Refilling her wine, she contemplated her words, and for the moment, didn't say anything more.

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