time. But how could he have known? Jack did not say anything about it to the attendant. He mentioned it in a letter to his family, but he didn’t mention any details. He told no one at the English school where he worked. Jack remembered reading that the fear of one’s mother-in-law was wired so deeply in a male Tarentellan’s DNA that they could smell if someone was going to meet their mother-in-law. Jack felt it was nothing but nonsense, another urban legend on Tarantella, but for a moment he considered it. Then he noticed that he was approaching the ground. He put the incident out of his mind.
Several stories above the boulevard now, he could hear the sound of tapping, quiet at first, then growing louder and louder until it filled the air, like cicadas rising up in song on a warm, sticky August evening. As a Tarantellan walked, the hard tip of each of their feet struck the pavement one after the other. If you multiplied that times a thousand, the sound would be nearly deafening. Jack smiled. Forget about a tap dance. It was thousands upon thousands of tap dancers each tapping out their own rhythms.
He dropped out of the darkness and into the lights of the boulevard, a lone human floating down out of the night sky. Some Tarantellans caught sight of him and paused to watch. An open space began to clear on the side of the boulevard. Tarantellans had an amazing sense to know where falling or floating objects were going to land. Maybe it was their nine eyes. There was nothing more for Jack to do except let the wind and his chute carry him to the that open space on the street.
A few moments later, Jack landed lightly. He took three steps to catch his balance and grabbed the lines for his chute behind him. The open space immediately began to close in around him as curious Tarantellans pressed forward to have a look. He ignored them and busied himself with hauling in his chute, rolling it up, and stepping out of his body harness. Humans had been visiting Tarantella for over fifty years, but most Tarantellans had still never seen a two-legged humanoid up close and in person.
“Nice jump,” a young Tarantellan watching nearby said.
“Nice English,” Jack said to the young Tarantellan.
His flight from the jump tower put him within a kilometer of his destination. A little later in the evening the streets would be nearly empty. Then he could just walk to his mother-in-law’s house. But at this hour, it made little sense to try and negotiate the busy boulevard. A two-legged human would only end up being a nuisance.
“Where are you going?” the young Tarantellan asked in a tone that implied he could be of help.
“Kra kru tcha ghoi?” Jack clicked, “aren’t you a little too small?”
This brought a chorus of “oohs” and “awws” from those still standing around watching. It was unusual to see a humanoid on Tarantella. It was even more unusual to hear one that could speak Tarantellan.
“I didn’t mean me,” the young Tarantellan said, “I have a cousin.”
“Then I would like to meet your cousin,” Jack said as he finished wrapping up his chute and tucking it into his backpack.
The young Tarantellan lifted its head an emitted a gargling screech that came from the hollow of his throat and rose above the clamor of the street. In a few moments, the crowd parted, as a large male, a bull Tarantellan over seven feet tall walked up. His jet, black endoskeleton shined in the streetlights. Jack noticed clay stuck to the hairs near the bottom of his back legs. He figured the bull must have come right from work, probably a nearby construction site.
After haggling over a price with the smaller Tarantellan, the bull crouched down. Jack hauled himself up onto its back. He barely had time to hook his feet under the third set of legs and grab the lip of its endoskeleton at the neck, before the bull lurched forward. The crowd parted silently and watched as they left. The young Tarantellan followed along behind.
“Are you a student?” Jack asked back over his shoulder.
“Yes,” the young Tarantellan answered, “I want to be a diplomat, but recently all the good jobs seem to be taken.”
“So another year in school?” Jack asked.
“Yes,” the young Tarantellan said.
Jack nodded. Many young, male Tarantellans struggled under a system where all the best jobs went to females or those with connections.
“Are you a teacher?” the young Tarantellan asked.
“Yes,” Jack answered, “but I have been doing translation work on the side. My wife helps me.”
“She is Tarantellan?”
“Yes,” Jack said. He paused considering whether to say it or not. Why not? He decided to share his secret with this stranger. “In fact, I am on my way to my wife’s mother’s house right now. Tonight is my chr-kirtah, the first meeting with my mother-in-law.”
Jack did not see it, but the young Tarantellan following behind him shuddered. All of his eyes blinked at once. “You are not joking?” he asked, “I have spoken with humans before, and I found that they like to joke about serious matters.”
“No,” Jack said, “I am not joking.”
The young Tarantellan ran up alongside the bull and said something which Jack could not hear. Without warning the bull veered off to the side of the street and stopped.
“What’s wrong,” Jack asked, although he already guessed the problem.
“My cousin cannot speak English. He wants me to ask if you know what chr-kirtah means?”
“Of course I do,” Jack said, “It is my first meeting with my mother-in-law. She has the right to refuse my marriage to her daughter.”
The young Tarantellan translated what Jack said to the bull. The bull nodded and said something back.
“And if your mother-in-law refuses,” the young Tarantellan asked, “do you know what can happen?”
“It is very rare nowadays,” Jack said, “It happens only in the countryside, where tradition is slow to change.”
“Your mother-in-law can take your head,” the young Tarantellan said, “one bite, and it is over. It is her legal right.”
Jack smiled. He had heard the argument before.
“Ask your cousin if he knows what will happen if she accepts me.”
The young Tarantellan translated. The bull blinked and said something back.
“He says that if your mother-in-law accepts, then you will be treated as one of her own children.”
Jack nodded. He would not be the first human to be taken into a Tarantellan family. But his mother-in-law knew important people in top positions all over the city. Marriage into her family would open up opportunities for him. Instead of working at a language school, he might find a teaching assistant position at one of the local universities, or better yet a government post as a translator. Jack wondered if the young Tarantellan and his cousin considered these possibilities.
He looked at his watch. He was running late. “If we start moving again,” Jack said, “I will tell you a secret.”
The young Tarantellan said something to his cousin, and they started off down the boulevard. Jack waited until they had gone a little ways.
“My mother-in-law is very modern,” he said, “Her hobby is watching Earth movies.” He looked back over his shoulder at the young Tarantellan. “And my wife has a sister. Her husband has already had his chr-kirtah.”
“He is alive?” the young Tarantellan asked.
“He is working downtown as a manager at the First Bank,” Jack said.
The young Tarantellan ran up alongside the bull and excitedly translated what Jack had said. When he finished, the bull said something back. After that the younger Tarantellan quietly fell into step behind his cousin.
“Well?” Jack asked.
“My cousin said that he can take you halfway to the spaceport at no extra charge. In the morning you can catch a ride the rest of the way. Tomorrow is Thursday. There will be a rocket that leaves at noon.”
Jack shook his head and smiled. He patted the bull on the back and decided to say no more.
“Let them think what they will,” he thought.
They soon turned off the boulevard and headed down a si
de avenue, where a few stores with colorful lights, but mostly houses tightly packed together, lined the street. Jack’s eyes adjusted to the deeper shadows between the occasional streetlight here. The familiar smell of cooked lokibug hit him. Jack considered walking the rest of the way by himself, since the streets were much less crowded here. But he decided to let the Tarantellans guiding him find the address in the dark. It would save him some time.
A few more turns and they were on a much narrower side street. The houses here were larger, set further back from the street with yards in front. Here the noise of the boulevard faded into the background, and Jack could hear the sound of his Tarentallen guides tapping along the pavement. Finally, they came to a stop under a streetlight.
“It’s just over there,” the young Tarantellan said pointing.
Jack slid down off the back of the bull. He reached into his pocket for a tip, but the bull saw what he was doing and took a step back. Jack brought his hand out empty.
“Chk kru,” he clicked, “thank you.”
The bull closed all of his eyes at once as a sign of respect. Then he turned to his smaller cousin and said something. Here on the quieter side streets, away from the crowds, Jack could pick out some of the words the bull said… real stories, government, not true, experience. The younger Tarantellan waited for his cousin to finish, then he turned to Jack and translated in a hushed voice.
“My cousin wants to tell you that the stories are real, and what you might hear from government reports is not