Thumar

Shesain led him slowly through the thick crowds to one of her favorite booths, all the while pointing out the differences between the regions represented by both color and style. “Now, that one is from the Kiernan region. They produce most of the nuts purchased in the city. You can tell by the mid-calf hems on the women’s skirts and the yellow and red stripes running at 45-degree angles along the length of their skirts.”

“The women wear attractive clothing,” Derak noted.

“Yes, our women love to accentuate their positive attributes at our festivals. In fact, more engagements, what we call a ‘Tea Cup Ceremony,’ are announced at these events than at any other time. Our women initiate intimate relationships in our culture, and the men follow their lead. Too frequently, men tend to let their pheromones drive them, and this could result in losing one’s family honor on both sides. So, in our society, we use a ‘shadow,’ after the tea cup ceremony.”

“What’s a shadow?”

She continued with a smile, “A Shadow is a female of the utmost character and one not to trifle with. An engagement lasts ten months, the time interval based on a woman’s gestation cycle. Sex is not allowed during the courtship and the union is sealed on the wedding night. Virginity is a requirement for both the man and woman.” She stopped to gauge his reaction.

He couldn’t believe what he just heard. “You mean to tell me that Thumar is a planet full of virgins before marriage?” he asked her in mild shock.

She smiled. “Yes, it’s been that way for centuries, with a few recorded mishaps along the way. Let’s get back to the shadow. There is no alone time for the male, except his private time, defined as bathroom, dressing, sleeping, and time spent with the fiancee's family. The shadow sleeps in the same quarters in her private bedroom; she never leaves his company. Extensive training is required of a shadow to ensure that they don’t get personally involved with their charge during the courtship period. It is a sensitive job and women are used because they clearly understand and accurately interpret male responses. Men understand this in our culture and follow the protocol.”

“Who shadows the woman?” Derak asked.

“The mother of the wife-to-be, or a married sister. A sister only comes into play if the mother is not able to fulfill the role, but this rarely happens. At the wedding, the shadow becomes the maid-of-honor. It is a high honor to be chosen as a shadow, and they remain close to the couple for life.

“Upon betrothal, the male is given a gold broach with a platinum weaving; a diamond is set into the center with a sapphire. He wears it everywhere he goes in public and in the company of his fiancée or wife. The woman wears a necklace with her husband’s coat of arms with a ruby and diamond. Much care is given to never lose these treasures.

“Superstition runs deep in Thumarian culture, especially in our courtship rituals. To lose a betrothal pendant or broach foreshadows ill fortune for the family name and honor. See that woman with the pink scarf? She is about to make a most serious proposal. Look at the cut of the blouse with the purple accents and her accentuated bust line. That indicates intent on her part. Watch the man as she approaches. She is going to present him with a cup of hot kava tea. Oh, my! See, there’s a flower floating in the cup!”

“What does the flower mean?”

“It’s the tea cup ceremony. It tells the man she wants to initiate an engagement.”

Derak looked intently at what was unfolding. “How is the man responding? It would be hard to ignore a proposal like that.”

She gave him an appraising look. “Shhhhh. Don’t make it obvious that we’re watching them. Notice his reaction.”

He watched as the woman demurely approached the object of her affection and handed him the cup with a dazzling smile.

Shesain continued. “Notice the man as he looks inside the cup he’s now holding. See how he’s working hard to keep his composure while trying to cover up his reaction. Her scent is rising to close the deal.”

“Her scent?”

Shesain smiled, not taking her eyes off the couple and leaning in closer. “Thumarians have pheromone glands that emit a unique scent to each individual. Females smell like flowers, men have a musky scent, the more intense the feelings are, the stronger the scents. Engagement proposals carry some of the strongest fragrances, next to the wedding night.”

Derak was fascinated as their eyes met and locked. The man smiled and accepted the tea cup. After taking a drink, he handed it back to her and she drank. She handed the tea cup off to her mother and pinned an engagement broach onto his right lapel with family witnesses watching. Smiling sweetly, she kissed him and slipped her hand into his, and the new pair left to discover each other, followed by his Shadow.

“Ahhhh,” Shesain said under her breath. “That’s so romantic.”

Reminding herself of the tour, she stepped back into the moment. “Now, I have to take you to my favorite vendor. He serves the sweetest berry pies in the entire festival! They’re hot, bubbly, juicy, and with a brown flaky crust that melts in your mouth as the juice drips down your chin. You never use a napkin. The juice you can’t reach with your tongue, you wipe off with your fingers, and lick the remainder off your fingers. I warn you, these are addicting; one is never enough!”

The description was very seductive as Derak began to realize his attraction to Shesain. “Lead on,” he said as she briskly led the way.

“Does your culture allow divorce?” He asked out of curiosity.

She stopped dead in her tracks and faced him, giving him a stern, though not-unkind look. “Divorce is permitted, but only under certain conditions; it is very rare and highly discouraged. It has no place in a civilized culture. Coupling is sacred and revered as one of the highest expressions of our society. That is why there’s a ten-month engagement and Shadows. There’s no room for frivolity in such a serious endeavor.”

“I meant no dishonor. I apologize if I’ve offended you by the question.”

“You have not.” Her mood softened considerably. “The mention of that concept is highly taboo. I’m sorry if I was hard on you.”

She was obviously uncomfortable now, and he remained silent as they closed in on Jumar’s pies. Her mood picked up again.

“Here we are! It’s time to enjoy the best pie you’ll ever taste, except mine, of course.” The joyful lilt returned to her voice.

“Jumar,” Shesain called out, with delight, to the middle-aged vendor. “You’re looking younger every time I see you!”

“Shesain! How is my favorite customer?” He responded with pleasure. They met in an embrace, kissing each other lightly on both cheeks, in typical Thumarian style.

“How are you treating your political luminaries these days? You’re not too hard on them, I hope,” Jumar inquired.

“I keep them in line, until they realize surrender is the only course of action.” They laughed. “Jumar, this is my friend and escort for today’s celebrations, Captain Derak Jamar III, the Alliance’s military representative to Thumar.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Captain Jamar.” He smiled.

“In that case, Jumar, I hope you don’t mind using my first name, Derak. Shesain has been praising your famous pies every since we got here.”

“I hope you saved the biggest pies for me,” Shesain cut in.

“I saved the biggest and the best, only for you.” Reaching for two of the plumpest pies Derak had ever seen, he handed one to Shesain and the other to Derak. “Enjoy, my friends! They’re made from my sweetest berries, freshly picked. We had a productive season, the best in many years.”

He turned to continue to help the large crowds gathering around his booth. “Get more pies in the ovens, Tenem, and fill those orders. These people have a festival to enjoy.” He smiled and waved to Shesain as he rushed to keep up with the demand for his pies.

“Don’t forget the president’s order! You know how grumpy he gets without his favorite treat,” Shesain reminded him before diving in.

“Mmmm…Mmmm.” Her eyes rolled in delight as the juice dripped down her chin. Looking at Derak, she wiped juice from her chin and licked her fingers. “Eat!”

He obeyed, attacking his pie, leaving all reserve behind. “Oh my! I could eat these all day long,” he said, after the first bite.

“These are delicious!”

Shesain started laughing at the juice dribbling down his chin, holding up her finger. He

licked his fingers after he wiped his chin and turned back to the booth for more.

“Not so fast, Captain!” she said, laughing, as she finished licking her fingers with the last bite of her pie. “Not without me! Jumar, two more small ones! You’ve got another convert here. Let’s keep him addicted, shall we?”

“Two small pies coming up,” he passed them two small pies with a grin on his face. “Shesain, inform the president that his order will arrive on time, piping hot! Now I must attend to my customers. Save a dance for me.”

“I’ll save you two, Jumar, and I hope you can keep up with me this year,” she responded, her voice filled with mirth.

“Let’s move on.” She prodded Derak. “There’s still a lot to see and so little time before the music starts.” She began to devour her second pie as they walked in between vibrantly decorated booths. Derak gobbled his down, trying not to miss a drop. When they both finished, she checked for drips. She noticed Derak watching her and rewarded him with a smile.

“Now, I need to check out the dresses in the next row and see an old friend.” She briskly guided Derak to the next aisle.

“Dresses? I have to suffer through dresses to find stylish Thumarian men’s clothing?” he complained, laughingly.

“Get used to it. A man of your social stature and handsome looks won’t last in this market,” she said with a warm smile. “I’ve seen more than one Thumarian woman casting an earnest glance in your direction this morning. Let’s keep moving.” They nearly ran to the street with the women’s apparel. Walking through the displays, she stopped to look at everything until they reached the pavilion of her friend, Terena.

Terena’s tent was filled with high fashion, at its best. There were dresses, blouses, skirts, leggings, handbags, jewelry, and footwear, all designed to put together the most astounding outfits. Many combinations were represented with surprising results in color matches and ensembles.

After picking out two skirts, four blouses, and a very expensive looking dress, Shesain hailed her friend. “Terena, you have marvelous clothing this year.” Shesain and Terena hugged and exchanged kisses.

“What have you been up to this year, Shesain?” Terena asked, not waiting for a reply. “The clothes have been flying off the racks. I may run out of some items before the day ends.”

Ruffling through Shesain’s choices, she remarked, “These are marvelous selections!” She directed Shesain to the dressing stalls at the back of the tent, and then she noticed Derak. “Who do we have here?” she asked, with a glint in her eyes.

“I’m giving the captain the grand tour today. This is Captain Derak Jamar III, Kalidar base commander and the Alliance’s representative to Thumar. He is my escort today.”

Terena’s gaze was intent on the captain.

“Captain Jamar, this is my dear friend, Terena, owner and designer of the finest women’s clothing on Thumar.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Terena. You’ve designed an exquisite clothing line.”

Terena’s smile grew wider as she exuberantly welcomed him, releasing him only after Shesain audibly cleared her throat. Shesain walked to the dressing stalls, directing Derak to follow along, as she sashayed off to change. She left him standing outside a dressing room. She tried on two outfits before emerging, wearing a dress that was a vision of understated elegance. She knew it was the only choice by the look on Derak’s face.

The gown showed “just enough” to get his mind racing while accentuating the rest of her exquisite figure. Perfection was the only word to express what he was appreciating.

“This will be the right one for dancing, don’t you think?”

“You’ll need to be comfortable, if what I hear about your dances are true, and that dress puts you in your element!” Derak replied.

“What you heard is true. I love this dress!” She turned to Terena, “I’ll take this one.”

Terena thanked Shesain for the purchase as the two of them exchanged kisses again.

Out on the boulevard again, Shesain looked stunning as she strolled besides Derak, leading the way to the men’s haberdashery district. The vibrancy and variety of the combinations of clothing were wondrous. No combination seemed to disagree; colors blended together and spoke of the personality of each individual and district. The boulevards and streets were broad and accommodating, allowing for smooth traffic flow. This was a city designed for large crowds.

“We are just about there,” she informed Derak, after walking past many blocks of beautifully decorated streets. Streetlights were decorated with hanging baskets of flowers, and banners were strung between light poles. Poly-chromatic light strings hung between the poles and crisscrossed every street.

“Here we are. Paulos gets his suits from this shop. They specialize in military uniforms, too. We took the liberty of forwarding your hologram and military specs on the day you arrived on Thumar so your new festival uniform would be ready on time.”

“This was planned months ago?”

“I knew you’d be surprised,” she said, smiling.

“This is going to be an expensive purchase.”

“Not at all, it has already been paid for, compliments of the Thumarian government. Your presence at this festival marks a significant step forward for our standing in the galactic senate. Our profile has risen considerably since we signed the treaty with the Alliance. So, please accept this gift as the grand spirit of acknowledgment by a grateful government.”

“No one’s ever done anything like this for me before,” he said, feeling humbled.

She escorted Derak through the tent door and introduced him to Petar Wolmneb. “Petar, this is Captain Jamar, I believe you have his new uniform ready.”

“Shesain, it’s so good to see you again. You look as lovely as ever,” the tailor greeted her, warmly. “Ah, Captain Jamar, we consulted your uniform specs to finalize the design. The Voeleron government sent us the required specs for the Zertha Braid and Medallion, and you can thank our president for tracking down your European family coat of arms.” Petar led them to the back of the tent into the VIP area, closed the tent flap, and uncovered the uniform.

Derak was speechless. The uniform had navy blue pants with a red stripe running down the outside seams. The coat was tailored after a twentieth-century tuxedo long coat: short in front, raking in a downward curve to a long tail. Boots, hat, and white gloves completed the outfit.

Shesain’s eyes glittered with a look of astonishment.

“It looks stunning!” she exclaimed. “What are you waiting for?”

“Try it on!” Both Petar and Shesain insisted.

Derak stepped into the dressing room. When he stepped out, Shesain was holding up his new coat.

“Your jacket,” she said. All the medals and ribbons were properly placed, including the Zertha Braid and Medallion.

Slipping the suit coat on, he stepped back and sized himself up in the mirror. “Isn’t this a bit over the top?” he asked.

“Evening attire is more formal at the head table,” Shesain said, as she examined the cut and fit of the uniform. She smoothed out the fabric, tied his tie and adjusted the beret on Derak’s head, and stepped back to take in Petar’s handiwork. “You look remarkably handsome,” she affirmed. “This uniform is made from our finest materials: strong, durable, stretchable, and easy to clean. The cloth breathes. So, you will be very comfortable.”

Looking down at his uniform, he noticed the buttons. “Are these made out of gold?

“Yes, they are,” Petar proudly answered. “All the buttons and snaps are gold with platinum inlays of your family crest, galactic standard military regulation. You meet all the specs for someone of your stature. Your braid, with its insets, puts you in the category of royalty, both military and governmental.”

Derak was stunned, and feeling decidedly out of his league.

Shesain cut in, “we have to be leaving now, or we’ll be late for the VIP lunch.”

They said their goodbyes to Petar. He assured Derak that his old uniform would be sent back to the base.

As they turned the corner onto a wide boulevard, a large group of children brightly dressed darted by screaming gleefully, “Hurry, before the pies run out! Last one there’s a cold crust!”

Shesain laughed as the last of them disappeared from sight.

They arrived at the pavilion for lunch. A large group of admirers and press crowded around the entrance, calling out the names of their favorite luminaries, and busily taking pictures, vids, and requesting interviews. On entering the pavilion, they were met by the hum of boisterous and jovial conversations between old friends.

“Derak, look at you! What a fine uniform!” Jack Morgan remarked. Looking at Shesain, he teased, “You’ve been holding out on me, buddy. Who’s this beautiful lady you’re with?”

Shesain blushed slightly and smiled at Jack.

“Sorry Jack, I almost forgot my manners. Commander Jack Morgan, I would like you to meet Shesain Andehar, niece of the Thumarian president, and Thumarian ambassador to the Alliance of Planets.

“Shesain, Commander Jack Morgan, executive officer on the AS Armstrong, presently in the space docks, and a long-time friend and colleague of mine,” said Derak, introducing his compatriot.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Commander,” Shesain said as she lightly embraced Jack in a Thumarian welcome. Jack was left standing with a bemused smile on his face, not knowing what to make of what just happened.

“That is the traditional Thumarian public greeting, Jack. It works the same with men and women alike,” Derak told him.

“Shesain, is that Thumarian greeting always used?” Jack asked.

“Yes it is. Why do you ask?” She inquired with a smile.

“That being the case, I’d like to meet more Thumarian women,” he grinned.

Shesain and Derak laughed, “I’m sure I could arrange that for you. Just be careful.”

“And never accept a tea cup with a flower,” Derak added.

Shesain giggled as Jack regarded them with a questioning look. His left eyebrow perked up.

“When a woman offers you a cup of hot Kava tea with a flower in the cup, and you accept, that means you’re engaged,” Derak told him.

A look of consternation crossed Jack’s face.

“Don’t worry; I’ll get your introductions without tea cups,” Shesain laughed, calming his nerves.

Eyes glowing and face beaming, Jack responded, “It’s an honor to meet you, Ambassador.

Derak always gets much more than he deserves.” He delivered this last line in jest.

Shesain laughed, her eyes smiling as she commented, “Well, Jack, I was beginning to wonder.”

She cast a playful glance in Derak’s direction, before turning back to Jack.

“How long are you going to be here, Commander?” she asked, moving back to Derak’s side. “You must give me a tour of The Armstrong.”

“I would love to, Ambassador, after she is repaired.”

“Derak, Shesain, you look marvelous!” Remor interrupted the repartee while studying Derak’s uniform. “I see Shesain took you on her famous couture tour.”

Jack stood at attention and started to salute the president.

“At ease, Commander. Formality is the last resort in this tent. Remor Andehar, President of Thumar.”

“Commander Jack Morgan, XO assigned to —”

“The AS Armstrong,” interrupted the president. “It was my man who tracked you down. I wanted to meet Derak’s best friend and confidant. Come now, it’s time to get seated for lunch. Jack, join us at the head table. You can sit next to Shesain.” The president snapped his fingers and an attendant hurried over. Remor gave him instructions, and the attendant rushed off. Derak saw Tark at a secondary table with members of the Navy. Tark started grumbling to himself as he watched Derak’s group pass by.

“Perhaps there’s something you can do for me, Remor, if you don’t mind.”

“What is it Derak?”

“It’s about Jack.” Derak spoke quietly so no one else could catch the conversation.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Ah, we’re all here,” said Remor, gesturing for the party to take their seats. “I think I’ll start this feast because I’m starving! Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family, please take your places.” Remor had the crowd seated in short order. “It gives me great pleasure to bless all of you with the bounty of our lands. Today we honor the many hands and hearts that made this possible. So, without further ado, let the feast begin!”

Waiters and waitresses bustled about, serving appetizers to eager diners and keeping wine glasses full. All seven sumptuous courses were served by waiters dressed in vibrant outfits announcing the districts and towns they hailed from. Dinner service was like a symphony played by master musicians, and conducted and arranged by a genius. Much praise was lavished upon the excellent meal. Regular conversation resumed during the short break between lunch and the dessert.

During lunch, Shesain gave Thumarian cultural lessons to both Jack and Derak, turning to face whoever posed the next question. Her voice was filled with mirth as she gave explanations and provided answers. Some queries elicited a good laugh. When Shesain began to ask Jack to tell her stories about Derak’s younger years, Remor caught Derak’s attention with a clap on the back, directing his thoughts elsewhere, before he could protest.

While Jack and Shesain engaged in an animated exchange, he turned towards Remor. I’ll skin Jack alive, I’ll skin them both. Shesain was laughing.

Remor smiled. “Derak, I would like to introduce you to my brother, Rhemar Andehar IV, Shesain’s father, and her mother, Temela Andehar.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet the maker of such fine vintages. These are the best wines I’ve ever had the honor to taste.”

Rhemar graciously accepted the praise.

Derak looked at Temela, “I must say, I now know where Shesain got her beauty.” Temela is an extraordinarily beautiful woman, like her daughter. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Temela showed a slight smile. “Shesain certainly picked a charming one, Rhemar,” she merrily quipped to her husband. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Please call me Derak. You have a beautiful daughter who is a pleasure to be with.”

Everyone turned to face the tables in anticipation of the crowning achievement of the afternoon’s feast. A small group of musicians gathered on a side stage during the break and set up their instruments. On cue from Remor, the drums rolled for four measures and the rest of the band played a lively folk jig.

The lights went down, and the pavilion lit up again in the ambient light from hundreds of flaming berry tart desserts streaming down the aisles. Each conflagration was carried by a trotting waiter or waitress who was keeping time with the music. The tent exploded with applause, whistles, and cheers.

When the second jig started, the wait staff, beginning with the president at his table, served the flaming delights in time to the spirited music.

After all the desserts had been served, without spilling one drop of berry juice, the president stood and, brandishing his flaming desert, exclaimed, jubilantly, “To a joyful Festival of the Lights and a prosperous New Year!”

The lights returned, and all that was heard were guests blowing out the flames and the rhythmic clinking of forks on china. Finally, when the guests had consumed their desserts, coffee, and after-dinner wine, the buzz of conversation began reverberating around the tent. As the revelry dwindled, the president stood once again and raised his right hand.

“Thank you, one and all, for sharing this meal with us. There is plenty of festival time left. Don’t forget, more music and dancing starts tonight, so enjoy!”

The tent emptied out as the festival participants rushed to their favorite venders and afternoon sporting events.

Remor took Derak aside as the head table cleared out to join the throngs on the festival grounds. “I’ve gone over the treaty we signed with the Alliance. They were supposed to assign you a battle cruiser, and they haven’t yet.”

Derak shook his head in disgust before answering, “They probably won’t. The admiralty is claiming a shortage of available ships due to required patrols in their sector.”

“Perhaps I can persuade them. In the case I cannot, what are you going to do?”

“Build my own.”

Remor paused to digest Derak’s statement. “You need a shipyard for that.”

“I’ve got the yard and the technology at my disposal, right now.”

“Where is this facility?”

“The shipyards are on Altair, and the tech is on Kalidar base. It’s top secret, and, if the Alliance got wind of it, I would be in big trouble.”

“I’ll need to see it myself. Thumarian laws are strict about alien technology on home soil.”

“After the festival, we can set an appointment for just you.”

“That’s fine. Go. Shesain is waiting for you. Enjoy the day.”