!!! Chance. Do not fuck this up or you will make an enemy.

"I think you have gauged me correctly, Sir*.

If it's amenable to you, I really would be happy to be on my way, and of no further trouble to you, although feel free to call on me any time if you want a favor from the alien [optional, recommended] - I owe you a big one, even if that takes the form of a bunch of message-passed Q&A sessions strung out over time or something, I'd be enthusiastic.

I owe you not least for your shockingly quick empathy for my alien utility function - I am not sure my people would have done as well with yours."

*Keeper_etiquette-wise, Vivai is, in fact, fucking this up. He knows on one level that he should not be Sirring Damin. That level is not the level that has earned the right to pull his mouth-strings.

Damin is not offended over being Sir-ed, but it's...unseemly. It's displeasing.

"I understand. I will remember your offer, but I do not consider you to be indebted to me, independent of what you might feel. If you want to contact me, here's my teletype network address," and Damin writes down some numbers and letters on a slip of paper, which he passes to Vivai.

"I don't see why my empathy should make you consider yourself indebted to me, but how you feel is your prerogative.

You will let my drones escort you out of my property and onto the path to Kosfor [fully mandatory – I will use force if you do not comply]. This is not for your sake, but mine: it's good practice to ensure that people actually leave when they say they leave. Although it is a little for your sake too, I have a lot of land and it's possible you might miss the road.

I wish you well."

Absent any further comments, Damin will have Rend and Las go off to bring Vivai to the road paved with cobblestone.

Vivai will thank Rend and Las, less profusely than he thanked Ders but still pretty profusely, and see if they have anything else to say.

Nope. Nothing else to say, except, "This way, Sir," before they escort him out.

The air is fresh and pleasing, but it's warmer now. Almost noon. It takes ten minutes to get onto the path, at which point Rend will say that they have reached the end.

The path cuts through temperate forest, but the forest looks well-managed. The morphology of the trees and plants are similar to those on Byway. The path is wide enough for two carriages to cross each other. 

As soon as Vivai is alone, he runs.

With occasional walk-breaks to catch his breath, he'll run most of the way to Kosfor City (which should take him most of an hour, given walk-breaks and terrain) or until something interrupts him.

Early on his way, he'll check the Alith Latitude company color-screen wireless device he has on him, and the wrenches and wires and things in his utility belt. The more prosaic stuff has made it out intact.

The company paging device still turns on, displaying his current assignment ["REPAIR PELLETIZER 3 IN PACKAGING"] but it's got no wireless signal of any kind (of course), and it's on half battery. He has its charger, though, and it seems likely that the remna will have stuff he can buy to construct a means of charging it in case he's ever in a spot where he could use a modern minicomputer.   . . . Or to partially reverse-engineer the thing for profit. That seems promising.

He'll watch the scenery - he notices the familiar botany, which makes him feel a smidge less freaked out about the familiarity of the remna. A smidge. Maybe their evolutionary prehistories are wrong, or just Ders's faction's, and this world is actually a close branch of home. There've been people who've claimed all kinds of weird (in retrospect, obviously false) things about how humans evolved, though not recently.

. . . How lucky he is to have landed somewhere with air as fresh as a farm or nature reserve! He'd needed a good outing for a while don't think about home. Of course, the corollary sacrifice is (presumably) not having landed near a central city.

What else does he see? Does anything interrupt?

The road slowly gets wider as it joins with other roads. From the distance, it looks like the city at most has buildings no more than five stories tall, except for the middle part, where it seems like there are taller buildings. Before he reaches the city proper, however, there's a tall stone wall, which in the middle has a wide stone arch opening or gate, where many people are passing through. There doesn't seem to be too many, only about a few dozen, probably because it is a little after noon now, and the sun is hot in the sky. Not terribly uncomfortable, but it's a nonzero amount of uncomfortable.

People's dress is quite elaborate, often with matching patterns. Most remna are either in carriages, or pulling carriages – there are few who are just walking, and those who are have umbrellas or similar sun-protection devices, or carry fans. 

No one interrupts, but many people stare. For a very long time. Many people also stop walking and turn away at him. All of them do the same tentacle thing, if they weren't doing that already, and a significant number also flick their tongues at him. No one approaches. It seems a few drones are ordered to run away, seemingly to carry messages. 

Does Vivai want to pass through the arch? There are two drones on either side of the arch, wearing what looks like elaborate ceremonial plate armor and halberds, but neither of them seem to be interfering with people passing through in either direction and appear to simply be there to Look Pretty. Alternatively, they can stay and talk to the staring people. Or do something completely different.

Well.

He will veeeery slowly, cautiously, approach the archway with the two metal-tipped-walking-stick carrying remna - he thinks those are drones, probably? but he's not sure - being careful to stay as far out of the way of local traffic as possible - and see if anyone makes a move to stop him.

No one stops him! People will just continue staring as he passes. Some people, most of which are those who weren't on carriages, will discreetly follow. Or not so discreetly. But people will continue to remain far away from him and not approach, merely Stare.

The gate opens up to townhouses on both rows, and some sort of square or plaza in the middle, which appears to currently be hosting a farmer's market of people selling fruits and vegetables and other food products. It's too far away to make out what the specific products are, though, unless he moves closer.

In front, and over to the side, there's the smell of Tasty Food, and tables arrayed on the sidewalk, beside what looks like a business. There are people gathered on tables, eating in the open using their tentacles. They are shaded with umbrellas above the tables. The people are talking to each other while eating. He won't be able to tell what exactly they're eating unless he moves closer.

There are also other businesses, whose signs he can read. Of the ones nearby: one advertises 'legal services', another sells stationery, paper, and calligraphy supplies, another sells books and articles, as well as teletype machines, and the last one sells phonograph machines and vinyl records of music.

The aesthetic of the businesses and buildings is Very Clearly Coordinated, in what Earth people would say is similar to Art Nouveau. Lots of stained glass, curlicues and latticework in wrought iron, gentle greens, tans, and whites, and floral motifs. Even the signages and logos for the businesses, as well as their advertisements, obey said aesthetic, even though they are clearly marked as Being Separate Businesses Which Are Not The Same. They do vary in how many accoutrements they put: some go all out, while others are more reserved, but never in a way which appears clashing or jarring.

It is also noticeable that, while the remna are not wholly coordinated in aesthetics the same way the buildings are, clothes which have a similar look to the buildings are more common than any other look, at least, from the people Vivai has seen so far.

So apparently people just eat in the open here, okay. Great. He skirts the places where that is happening as widely as possible without it being obvious to onlookers.

Vivai is intimidated by the fact that one person - apparently someone with a very particular and . . . repulsive-to-human-eyes aesthetic, wow, someone must have spent dozens of hours forging that iron into the shape of a combination geometry lesson and fungal infection - owns all of this. There were similarly ostentatious setups anywhere at all, back home, and probably lots more places where a bunch of buildings were owned by the same person, and they just weren't all built the same like this. He didn't get the remnas' population, somehow. Maybe he's wrong to assume it's lower than home's and this boss's wealth therefore corresponds to a much larger fraction of their economy.

If this were his neighborhood in Sareksal, he'd look for the little red bolts of cloth outside businesses' front windows that meant they were hiring. But that kind of thing was done differently everyplace, he'd known. If he were in a foreign town, he'd have found a library that didn't look too busy and paid for an explanation of the local job market from one of the advisors there. Or formally traded advice with them, if he'd had more time than money. 

The closest thing in his immediate vicinity seems to be the book-and-article shop. He goes inside.

But wait! There are two doors to the book-and-article shop, on opposite sides of the large glass pane displaying items and having a painted sign of the shop. One of them is larger and more ornate, while the other door is shorter and less detailed. Both doors have a sign saying the name of the shop, "Tcadas's Literature Company", rendered in cursive script, as well as its opening hours, so it's clear that both lead to the same place.

Which one does he go through?

The shorter door looks both less ugly and less presumptuous. Vivai takes it without thinking.

It looks like a warehouse, with bookshelves piled high. The place is kept clean, very clean, even of dust, and the wooden shelves and equipment is richly varnished. It is also devoid of much ornamentation – it's quite 'passive'.

There's someone there, presumably a drone, checking the arrangements of the books, then hears the bell on the door as it opens.

"What do you want?" the remna asks. He/it's wearing a plain pale green shirt and black pants.

"Hi, I was wondering if there's an advisor here? Somebody who trades in explicating local customs to foreigners. Or if there's one in the area?"

The remna is apparently a drone, because they immediately stop what they were doing to bow deeply.

"Sincerest apologies, Sir. The door to the Keepers' section is that way," and it points. "Please follow this drone [highly recommended]," it says, and will open the door to let Vivai through first, assuming he wants to go that way.

"Local customs to foreigners...Kosfor City is not a border town, so we do not get non-Imperials visiting. However, this one can help you find books or pamphlets covering more specific things, or point you, Sir, to a hotel with concierge service, which may have drones for rent who can help you get around the city."

There was not a single encouraging word in that paragraph.

Why do the remna seem so . . . against people doing things on their own, as the default?

"Thank you," he says, and enters the Keepers' section. Only the demented argue with customer service.

"You're welcome, Sir," it says.

The Keepers' section is similar, but with more ornamentation. It's not as over the top as the outside, though. Most of the 'effort' in the room is put into the beautifully carved wooden furniture, with seats and adjustable-angle tables for pleasant reading, with fluorescent lamps and lighting. The aesthetic is definitely crafted to be 'quiet' rather than loud.

"Do you, Sir, prefer to wander around and look, or would you like this one to direct you to where you might find something you like, or would you like to give search criteria and for this drone to fetch items matching that criteria for you?"

Library! Quick, before I get away, virtuous prosaic investigation -

"I'd like wander around and look, thank you. And if you don't mind answering, who do you work for? What exactly is the setup here? Just so I can get a feel for how things work. I'm from a universe where the only sapient species, us, is dioecious with every member reproductive. I died and instantly teleported here a couple hours ago for reasons that are currently beyond my understanding."

It is nice knowing he'll be able to explain himself to some of the people here without hearing the same exclamations of shock over and over again, Vivai thinks through the extreme guilt and bewilderment of using someone who will never be able to use him back.

The drone is feeling the qualia of shock, but has the impassivity not to show it. We do so love impassivity training.

"This drone works for its Controller, whose name is Tcedas. Sincerest apologies, Sir, this drone is not trained to be a librarian and is trained only in managing the store and items, although this drone's Controller is seeking for it to train in librarianship. If you, Sir, wish for this one to answer to the best of its ability, it will."

The drone will let Vivai wander around, but will follow, always being close enough to hear if Vivai says anything. The sections of the store are labeled. Which ones does Vivai want to look at first?

There's: "history", "geography", "art and design", "physics", "chemistry", "geology", "biology", "scientific journals", "reference materials", "pamphlets and guides", "cooking", "psychology", "training", "military and combat", "engineering", "'beautiful'-books". 

The shelves and ceiling go up quite high – the last few rows will be unreachable.

There's a sign that says that you can request specific books you want to buy, and they'll special order them for you, and even mail it to you for a fee.

There appear to be no fiction books, though there is a section for novels where characters must use various scientific principles to fix problems, with detailed descriptions of their thoughts, seemingly as infotainment or a teaching aid, which is labeled 'Novels'.

Vivai should really be using this time to search the drone's memory for the local distribution of employment opportunities. Or at least asking what currency they'd take . . . not that he has any cash on him. What formal trade they'd take from a broke start-laborer.

Vivai is not doing any of that.

He literally speedruns his first pass at investigation, using the full agility of a dozen-and-ten-year-old male.*

(That is how things work back home. What else would be the point of paying for health insurance at his age?)

A clearer sketch of their evopsych first, he thinks.   . . . Why are "scientific journals" in a category separate from the categories called after all the actual branches of Nature philosophy? Diaries of famous scientists? He'll start there. He picks a book of medium size, an old, worn one, signifying that the information therein has stood the test of time. He opens to a random page.

*Admittedly noticeably less than the agility of a dozen-and-ten-year-old male in some other places.

The drone remains silent unless Vivai asks it any questions, which he really should, because there are no medium-sized, old, and worn books in the 'scientific journals' section. He will also find that scientist diaries and biographies are in the 'history' section. Each journal is bound simply with staples, like a pamphlet, although each one will have a thin cardboard cover.

It appears that 'scientific journals' here refers to the most recent findings or observations in experiments, which are preliminary, and which only cover a single topic in detail – books are longer, and are more expansive, and distill information that has been collected over time.

Most of the journals cost around 24±2 fepni, which is shown on paper price tags.

A random page:

Species of section Aporum are epiphytes found in lowland forests of north-east Gairen Province, extending eastwards to Sedron Islands. Members of this section have thin stems that are erect at first but tend to become pendulous as they lengthen. Leaves are fleshy and equitant. The stem may be more or less completely concealed by the leaf bases. Tips of the leaves end in a point. Flowers are borne singly or in clusters, arising laterally on the stem between leaf nodes or at the tip of the stem alongside a terminal scale. The flowers may be subtended by persistent chaffy bracts. They are generally small and fleshy and tend to be short-lived, wilting after just a few days.

The functional significance of the Aporum section's distinctive leaves remains uncertain. As noted by Kalsad et al. (B98*), the fleshy leaves might be taken as an adaptation to water retention. However, though access to water is a consistent concern for epiphytes, the humid rainforests in which Aporum species are found hardly seem the driest of places. Conversely, the effective even distribution of stomata on both sides of leaf resulting from their equitant condition may make it easier for excess water to be released from the plant.

* The year 1699.

Are there any worn books here? Are there even any used books?

Vivai is transfixed by the Aporum and interalizes absolutely everything about it that he can without him just standing there and reading about it getting awkward.

He will follow the line of reasoning . . . what point is this author making?

There are no worn or used books! This is a shop, not a library, or a secondhand goods store. Everything is brand new, and looks like it.

The author isn't trying to prove a hypothesis or disprove an existing theory, merely describing potentially new Aporum species found during an expedition, with that part being a preamble – the author didn't make any claims about what they thought the leaf morphology was for. Skipping to other pages reveals that the author likes to clearly separate parts where he is merely describing, and parts where he is claiming something and putting forth evidence to prove his point – none of the 'claim and prove' sections concern the Aporum, though.

This journal, "Sensen's Journeys," is a journal run by a single person, in this case, a botanist. About half number of the journals are run by only one or a few people, with the other half being run by some organization that takes submissions for review to be published. Those ones also tend to be longer, more expensive, and be more polished looking.

Frowning, Vivai will turn to the front matter of the Sensen's Journeys pamphlet. Is there anything that indicates what Sensen's source of reputational capital is? The writing style is alien, but. Well.

Reputational capital? Vivai can tell, internally, that that word is much longer in Standard Imperial than it is in Bywayean.

He might be interested in the 'About Me' and 'Contact' section.

I am Sensen Raigul Zebam, previously a horticulturalist – I am the one who successfully bred a variant of Jimpalin* with purple flowers, now grown in many tropical provinces. Nowadays, I do botany and naturalism more generally. I've described and named more than three dozen new species to ISA standard, in my more than five dozen years running botanical expeditions. This journal is where I'll put details on my expeditions and work.

Contact me at this address, or leave a message for my teletype machine.

Below, there's a house address and a series of numbers and letters similar to what Damin gave him. It looks like a Bywayean phone code.

* A rather rare houseplant with scent similar to ylang-ylang.

Vivai very carefully replaces Sensen's journal and turns to the drone. Even he now has to admit that he's gonna need more time alone with their informational ecosystem - not broke in a shop, which is finally dawning on his hindbrain is not a library, and being ogled by the simple-utility-function-having merchandise keeper - if he wants the tick on his bewilderment meter to go down instead of up. Thank goodness he explained himself earlier, or his next question might sound really weird.

"Do you take formal exchanges of anything that's not standard currency here?" He doubts it, for a bookshop, but he might as well ask. "If not, if you'd be alright with directing me to the nearest concierge-having hotel, I'm sorry for the intrusion and I'll be on my way."