"How do you trade goods?" Scilar bartered on a straight across exchange of goods. Earth had finally unified under one currency for purchases, but a rich trade of services for goods became the norm. Monetary accumulation was discouraged.

"The cities of Engari trade goods, each of them has certain industries which are their specialty. Here in Benal, we are artisans. We provide fine cloth, clothing, jewelry, and our crystal console is the biggest one anywhere," the merchant's tusks wiggled in a disturbing dance as he gestured. Like so many humans, he used his whole body to express himself.

"Do you build furniture as well?"

"Yes, and all the necessary items for a household. Serving platters as well as drinking bowls need not be plain sturdy vessels, they can be pleasing to the eye as well." He stretched his trunk up to one of the higher shelves, slipping the sensitive tip over the edge, as his eyes crinkled with pleasure.

"Here, a small token to remember us by," he opened the fleshy prongs at the tip of his trunk when she held out her cupped hands. "I hope you will treat the men of this world with as much deference as you have for our leader."

A deep ruby bowl with small accents of gold and silver where the etching on the side depicted strange fruits and plants dropped into her palms. The slanting rays of sunshine darting down from the ceiling caught inside the bowl producing an aura of deep crimson around it as she held it to eye level to admire.

"My deepest thanks, sir. I'll treasure this bowl. I regret I have nothing to give you in return." Was this token a bribe? The material might be glass, and then again perhaps not. Were the men oppressed? Or were there problems with previous visitors? There were questions to be answered.

"Nothing is required. Remember my generosity when your world begins to trade with ours." His voice hardened as he spoke.

Greta smiled, then broke out into a quick chuckle. "Merchants are the same, it doesn't matter the world. You can be sure I will remember." She hoped this simmering resentment wouldn't put her in an awkward position. Perhaps even a dangerous one.

The light from the great ceiling was dimming, and she asked, "Are the days here below dependant on the weather and sun on the surface, or do you supplement the light during a storm?"

"You'll have to ask our city maintenance engineer. I'm sure Honorable Leader Qwaiter will introduce you to her. It's closing time, and here she is," he inclined his head in a respectful half bow. His earlier bitterness erased as if it never existed.

"Q'tera will come to you to help with inventory, even a child can count merchandise. She wishes to trade for the last game piece for her Armada."

"I'll make note of it. Have her here in four days. We are most grateful for her help."

Greta made note, barter, was common if a child was already willing to trade her work for a desired object. The youngster showed her teeth, her trunk high in the air, in what she assumed was the Benali equivalent of a smile.

Her gentle mother, and leader of this culture turned to her with a subtler version of curved lower lip. Greta wondered though, was there another side to her genial host?

"Good Captain, we'll take you back to your surface vehicle, tomorrow, bring the rest of your crew with you, we would be honored to make acquaintance with your Scilari officer."

The trip back through the passages between businesses was quiet as Greta reflected on the afternoon. These people were consummate artisans and crafts people. Their ability to make common use items into attractive objects spoke of a society developed well beyond survival stages. Underlying the beauty of that, there might be a festering inequality. The women were larger, and dominant. She wondered if men were properly acknowledged for their skills and contributions.

"Captain, this has been a most agreeable start to our exploration of each other. Your research ship, as you've said is here for only a few more days?"

"We expect our mother ship back in eighteen days of our time, so we have time to continue our talks, Honorable Leader," Greta responded. The gorgeous bowl rested in her lap with one hand curled around it to keep it steady.

As the ramp to the surface crept open, she noticed the squealing hinges had been oiled and the interlocking leaves spread silently. The sky was streaked in gold and red as the suns set opposite each other.

"I'm astounded by these sunsets," Greta commented.

"You are here at the optimum time in our orbit, as we pass between them. They aren't always like this. And the storms can be worse when they align themselves in the same quadrant of the sky. I assure you, the Mach storm you went through is nothing when that happens in concurrence with the full orange moon." The driver said as he eased his giant vehicle to a stop under the open arch of the exit. She noted his smaller stature. Did he have the same resentment as the merchant?

"We won't survive anything like that, our little ship will tumble like a pebble in those winds."

"You don't have to worry, it will be at least six of our months, which is much longer in your standard days." Qwaiter reassured her.

"How could you know?" Greta peered at the elephantine leader with suspicious eyes.

"The crystals. They are small computer units, not a life form, programmed to interact quickly with any other machines like them. Your ship's computers were easily understood, which is why we were able to send you a compatible program to enhance your own stabilizing routines."

Greta bowed after clambering down from the monster truck, "Your assistance was timely and most effective. I will send Freddie to you tomorrow. Show him the same things you did me, as he is Scilari's emissary."

"Rasta is welcome as well. Our engineers are eager to discuss his ideas for our space program. Anyone who understands our advanced weather mitigation programs as quickly as he did, is a treasure." That didn't sound like someone who didn't care about honoring the contributions of men.

Greta shook her head, "He's the most annoying person, but I agree, he has talents. He will fit in with your engineers. He will map the terrain between this door and our ship. He's already looking for a suitable place to build a spaceport."

Now Qwaiter peered at me, her luminous brown eyes wide. "This is unexpected, how does he know of our intentions. I thought our communication was between leaders."

"No disrespect, ma'am." Greta hoped she had the right to use a shortened form while addressing her. "When we encounter a problem, we put our resources to work immediately. Rasta has knowledge from many studies, all of us on a research ship must. We learned from your crystals as well. Our survey crews will be most annoyed they missed the clues to your existence."

The sound she made was a cross between a trumpet and a collision. It conveyed her appreciation of my quick attention to the problem.

"Then I shall send my engineers to your ship tomorrow in exchange for Fred the Scilari."

"Send your smallest engineer. As you already know, our ship is tiny beside you. More than one, won't fit inside."

Qwaiter's brow wrinkled. Did she have an aversion to sending one of the males? The game store owner made Greta question the friendly advances of normal diplomacy.

As they spoke the sky darkened and the moons rose, the orange moon was down to half, but one of the smaller ones was full. There was enough light for Greta to see clearly as she trundled back along the tracks the explorer made earlier.

Questions raced through her mind as she approached their camp by the biggest pool in the series she'd followed back. Would this tentative beginning be enough? And would she be allowed to continue to be part of this astonishing discovery once the diplomats from the Space Alliance arrived? Can we trust the veneer they showed today? And the worst; were there other species in this section of the galaxy where weren't as friendly. The merchant's statement of inferred inequality was of paramount concern.

At least they had the next days to make strides. If she became indispensable to Qwaiter, then her appeal to remain should be easy to push for, and her desire to study a new culture satisfied. And maybe she could figure out how deep the rift went between the males and females in this society. And what about the other cities? This was their seat of world governance. Did things go the same way everywhere?

"Rasta drop the ramp. I'm back." She had so much to tell her crew. "We only have the tip of the iceberg. You were right. All is not well in paradise."