For Dinner: Chimachangas
Mood: Enmeshed in a conspiracy, seemingly.
Written in the Year of our Lord 3580, March 25nd,  Monday  night.
Location: The Fel arcology on the city Vagnar on the continent of Laufey, near the Ran ocean, on Loki.

      I showed up at Cynthia's home with Glutheim in tow.  She was not surprised. "Father Redwine!  Glutheim. Glad to  have you."

     "Interesting apartment."  It was decorated in the style of old Castillian Spain.  Cynthia was a small woman, with her hair cut short, silvered with age.

     "Thank you. Of course, Glutheim's been here before. I've had dealings with him over trade mattes. We more or less understand each other....although I confuse all Lokiites, being an old female."

     "It's a concept that takes some getting used to," Glutheim admitted. I had never thought about it before, but yes, it would be.
      Lokiites began life as immature females. Then they become mature females, until about age forty. Then their sexual equipment reforms, in a phase of their lives more strange than adolescence or menopause, and they become males for the remainder of their lives.  That had several societal consequences....

     Their decision-making structures were almost all patriarchal.  To work one's way up a Hierarchy takes time, and by the time they reach the top, they had almost always gone through the change into maleness.
      On the other hand, the image of speed and athletic prowess in their society was almost exclusively female.  New ideas bubbled from the females, and would filter through the males, also. To be female was to be youthful and resilient and rebellious and strong, to be male was to be mature, and a bit hidebound and unyielding.

     This was aided by the fact that the childbond supplied the original nourishment to a baby, so no nursing is needed.  A female's chest is much the same as a male's. The only changes happened in the genital area and the wideness of the hips.

      An old female in this society would be quite a novelty. Rather like a hot icicle. For that matter, a fairly young male, like myself, would be equally contradictory.

     She had a Lokiite dish for Glutheim, and for the rest of us some highly-spiced chimachangas. She talked of her childhood on Lancelot, of never going outside without the armor against the allergens in the air. The four other guests included the commander of the Fellowship Guard, in charge of trying to keep abreast of Lokiite military preperations, under the terms of the treaty after the Loki-Community; a xenosociologist, and a chemist.  It made for interesting conversations, although I could tell they were glad for a new human to talk with.

The Fellowship Guardsman handed me a small card. I touched it, and the Cardinal's voice rang through my head. "Glutheim is to be consulted as much as possible, and extended every courtesy."

     So the Cardinal had an interest in Glutheim. That was interesting...if a bit unnerving.

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