Tadewidan had to clap his hands to get the audience to quiet down. "We look forward to your becoming a member of our community," he announced. "But first there are a few more conditions we must impose on this unusual situation."

He continued on immediately, as Janys wondered what had gone on during the council's deliberations. "The most important is that the council reserves its right to determine if you have actually accepted and fully become a part of our society. We know there will be a period of adjustment, and do not expect perfection. However if we should determine that your efforts are not sincere, or that you are incapable of fitting in, we will not hesitate to dissolve your marriage and send you to Kollent. Do you understand?" he asked sternly.

"Yes," she replied quietly, glad that he couldn't read her mind.

"We also will not tolerate your being a secret observer.," he warned her. "From now on, your sole role is to be a wife and a member of our community. After you have become accustomed to life here, you may seek an occupation. But you are no longer employed by your Institute, you will perform no services for it, and except for a letter of resignation, you will have no further communication with it or any of its personnel."

Something in her started shouting that she would never see Prof again. "But—" she started.

"We are not going to argue about it," he cut her off. "That is our condition, and you can either accept it or go to Kollent. And in keeping with our decision, all the materials we confiscated from your previous research will be destroyed."

Not her research! Hot tears filled her eyes as thought of all the wasted work. Somehow she'd thought that no matter what happened to her, at least Prof would have the use of her notes. But looking at the implacable faces before her, she knew that none of what she had assembled would be allowed to leave Demeter.

"All right," she said heavily. "But please, last night one of the things that was taken was my diary. That's just for my personal thoughts. It has—had—nothing to do with my work."

"Electronic format?" Tadewidan asked disapprovingly.

"No, actually it's paper." she told him quickly. "When I came here, the technology censor approved it. It's in a bunch of little blank books I got years ago that I've been filling up gradually." Thank God that all of the ones from before her trip to Demeter were safely locked in a storage container back at the Institute.

The elder looked doubtful. "We do not think that this is a good idea."

Martel jumped in. "It does not bother me that my wife-to-be wishes to keep a journal. Many people on Demeter write down their thoughts. The next few decadons are going to be difficult for her, and she may find it useful to express her feelings that way."

"You are a thoughtful man yourself, Martel," Tadewidan noted. "This diary is not shared with anyone?"

"Never," Janys said forcefully. "It's just for me."

"Even I will never ask to read it," Martel told them.

The council briefly huddled together. "We have changed our position. Because we no longer see any harm in the diary, it will be returned to you," the elder informed Janys.

"Now our last condition. Under normal circumstances, Martel would be completely capable of guiding you in your role as a wife. But before most Demetian women marry, they have many years of training from their mothers in our rules and way of life. We fear that even if Martel did not have his duties managing our trade, he would still not have sufficient time to teach you everything you must know. Therefore we intend to appoint a woman to help him in this task."

Shalimerie stepped forward. "Until Chardontal is old enough to attend school, my only task during the day is to look after him. I would have time to teach our ways to my new sister-in-law."

Tadewidan shook his head. "We have already discussed that possibility. But there are too many problems. First, as an immigrant from Lycarta, you do not have the experience of those who grew up in Wyteen. Second, teaching requires discipline as well as imparting knowledge. We believe that your acts today indicate that you will become friends with your sister-in-law. Even if this is not so, it would be difficult for you to wield the required authority with one of your own age."

"The council appreciates your offer, Mistress Shalimerie," he concluded. "But we believe a better choice would be Mistress Elondelle, if she would come forward."

Janys turned to see Martel's mother making her way to the front, while the glowering girl traipsed behind her.

"Mistress Elondelle," Tadewidan greeted her. "Will you assume this task at our request, and thereby relieve some of the burden from your son?"

"What the council bids, I will do," she told him. "But I have told Martel that I have grave reservations about his marrying an offworlder. As a mother, I had other hopes." Her eyes glanced over her shoulder at her human shadow.

"We all have reservations," Tadewidan acknowledged. "Yet knowing what a fine job you have done educating Yagote since the deaths of Master Natholan and Mistress Gwenite gives us great confidence."

"I shall do my best," she replied, bowing her head. The girl behind her smiled slyly.

The elder looked pleased. "We also request that you assist Martel in providing what is necessary for his portion of the wedding. Mistress Shalimerie, we request the same of you as to the bride." Both women acknowledged they would do so.

For the first time, the elder smiled broadly. "Then let us turn to the happier subject of the wedding date." He seemed to flip through a mental calendar. "It must of course fall on the first day of a decedon. The next one is three days away. Is that sufficient time for the preparations?"

As Shalimerie and Elondelle nodded their heads Janys wanted to scream at them. She could understand why the council wished to hurry the ceremony, but surely these women understood the benefit of delay. Given a little time, the Ambassador might be able to find some way to get the Protector to change his mind, or the Institute might perform a miracle.

Hesitantly, she spoke up. "I always thought I would have more time to get ready for such a special day. May we postpone it for at least a full decedon?"

Tadewidan and the rest of the council frowned at her. "Our weddings are simple, and with the assistance you are being rendered, require little more than that you appear and respond appropriately. We have no place to confine anyone for an extended period of time, nor can we release you into the community until you have actually become a member."

"Besides, Elder Tadewidan, neither my son nor I can begin her teaching until she is joined to our family," Elondelle added. Janys shivered as she realized that she was soon going to be at the mercy of this woman.

"Then we shall proceed as stated, and all who wish to attend shall gather at the community hall in three days' time." He motioned to the guards. "Please escort the future Mistress Janys to her usual quarters. She will stay there under supervision until the ceremony is performed."

This time the men didn't take her arms, but allowed her to simply walk between them as they left the meeting hall. Going across the square, Janys noticed a small group of people gathered around the north end. A sound she'd never heard before rang out, followed by a woman's screams. "Mistress Plettigan is getting her blistering," the taller man commented. "That one will not be sitting for dinner tonight."

"She deserves it," the other chimed in. "Why, I reported her once myself for saying things to me that were unfitting for a married lady, but Leonid believed her, and I decided not to take the matter to council."

Shuddering, Janys hurried back to the guest quarters. Even though her room looked empty now that her research materials had been taken, she was still glad to return after her night in the improvised cell. But she'd had the door closed only for a moment when someone rapped on it. Shalimerie stood in the hallway, smiling broadly.

"I knew you would make the right decision!" she exulted. "Now I need to get measurements for your wedding tunic so that Mistress Kelusia can get it finished in time."

"Actually, I already have a tunic," Janys told her, going over to the space where she had stowed her purchases. "Here." She pulled out a white one trimmed with gold that she'd bought during her first decedon, thinking that although she would never confuse things by wearing it on Demeter, the Prof would enjoy seeing her wear it at the next Institute party.

Shalimerie chuckled. "No, love, that is not appropriate. Only single women and men wear white. The tunic must be scarlet, and must be constructed in the wedding style." She pulled out a long strip of cloth resembling a tape measure, expertly wrapping it around Janys's bust and hips.

"Your hair is short enough that one comb will do," she noted, her hand lightly bunching Janys's reddish-brown curls in her hand. "I will find something to pick up the gray in your eyes, along with slippers and undergarments. Then all I will need to find is your gift to Martel, and you will be ready."

Janys wondered if she was supposed to select a present for her groom—as if she had the slightest idea what he would want—but when she asked, Shalimerie brushed her off. "It is not a difficult choice, love. Trust me to take care of that as well. Now, have you eaten today? I thought not. As I go now, I will tell the common room to send up your midday meal." With a flash of aqua tunic, she vanished into the hallway.

When the meal arrived, Janys played with it. Even though she was no longer threatened with immediate exile, she felt as though her past life was dying. Shalimerie was well-intentioned, but could hardly replace her friends and classmates from the Institute. Just thinking about Elondelle made her long for her parents, killed many Earth years when their small ship crashed on a weekend trip to the moon. And the thought she was giving up her life with Prof for Martel made her start crying.

The ambassador arrived shortly before the changing light outside signaled that Demeter's smaller sun had already set. She gazed at Janys warily as though afraid the younger woman was going to do something else incomprehensible. "I'm returning to Vesta 7 tonight," she told her. "I was going to meet with the Institute to decide how to approach the ICJ. But now I hear that you have decided to marry a native and spend your life here."

Janys went over and made certain the door was securely shut. She whirled around. "I did what I had to do to survive. But how could you possibly think I want to stay here? You've got to promise that you'll keep trying to help me." Suddenly she was sobbing again. "Please just say you'll get in touch with Professor Rickman."

"All right," the woman promised. "What should I tell him?"

Janys clutched the ambassador's hands. She could well imagine Earth or the Interplanetary Association, or even the Institute itself writing her off, but not the Prof. "Tell him that he was right about this place. That no matter what I do or what he hears, I want him to get me out of here."

"Janys, I'll do that. But you know I can't promise—"

"Just tell him," she said fiercely. "It's my only chance…"

Somehow after the ambassador left, she felt all the adrenaline rush out of her. She laid down on the bed and slept, dreaming of being thrown naked into the desert. A loud rapping on the door woke her, and she groggily accepted the package of volumes and pens that the guard handed in.

Her diary. She sat down and started writing about everything that had happened. How she hated Demeter and its draconian ideas of justice. How she missed Prof, and what she would do if she were ever back with him. "I'd do anything to get out of here," she wrote. "Lie, cheat—if there were a ship powerful enough to make it to Vesta 7, I'd steal it."

The next day passed quietly. The guards disappeared after the ambassador's ship left and she no longer had a way to escape from the planet. The council correctly reasoned that there was no place for her to hide in the four communities, and going out into the desert would be the equivalent of suicide. They did send someone in regularly with food and water, and even a book of music. Someone had tabbed the lyrics of a song extolling various virtues, which she divined was often performed at weddings.

After writing extensively in the diary, Janys again slept fitfully. Now only one night separated her from the marriage ceremony. At least Martel hadn't been dropping by. As long as she didn't see him, she could sometimes fool herself into believing that this was all a very bad dream.

Shalimerie showed up after the evening meal, her arms full of packages. "Mistress Kelusia outdid herself," she told Janys, holding up a beautiful deep red tunic trimmed with white stones resembling opals. "Let us see if everything works together."

Janys carried the garments into the small toilet area. She slipped off her clothes and shoes and put on the soft white slippers. While they furnished virtually no protection, they were comfortable to walk in. Next she put on the chillea, an upper garment similar to a bra although it was larger and provided less definition. She then looked for the prander, or lower underwear, but couldn't find any, so she decided to keep her own Earth panties on.

Compared to the one she had bought, the tunic was quite odd. The front was the same, but in addition to the usual shoulder ties, a row of fasteners ran up the middle of the back. Still Janys managed to get it on. She had less luck with the comb, which refused to stay in her hair.

Fortunately Shalimerie was able to get the comb installed to both their satisfaction. Looking in the mirror, Janys thought she looked more like an outcast from an ancient Oriental massage parlor than a bride, but apparently the other woman was satisfied with the results. After a few minutes of checking the view from all angles, they sat down on the bed, and Shalimerie picked up the last package…

"Janys, are you familiar with the marriage ceremony?" she began.

"Not really," Janys confessed. "That was something I was trying to study, but I've never seen one, and no one ever answered my questions."

"Then there is one thing we must discuss." She handed the package to Janys. "This is your present for Martel. After everyone sings the prescription for a happy marriage song, which was in that book I sent you, I will give it to you to present to the elder."

Janys reached inside, her fingers clamping on smooth wood as she drew out a large wooden paddle. As she stared at it in horror, Shalimerie hurried on. "There was no time to have it decorated, and I did not know what you would wish to say. You may do it later of course."

"But I don't understand!"

The other woman continued on as though Janys had said nothing. "The elder will take your hands and help you bend over. Then I will arrange your tunic so that Martel can administer the five strokes. Kronitin will take the picture for your wedding album, then Martel will give you his gift, which will be a pillow. The elder will then proceed with putting on the bracelets."

Janys stared at Shalimerie as if she just suggested that part of the ceremony was for the bride to be drawn and quartered. "You don't mean that I'm going to be paddled on my bare skin in front of all those people?" she gasped.

"But of course," came the puzzled response. "Even in Lycarta our weddings include the christening of the marital paddle, although there the groom is the recipient. Most women look forward to this first spanking from their chosen spouse."

"I'm not one of them," Janys bit out, trying to keep the anger and fear from showing in her voice. The academic part of her that treated foreign customs with respect was rapidly giving way to the part that considered them all completely crazy.

Shalimerie shrugged. "Janys, there is no need to get upset. Martel will not strike you very hard. Sometimes the young men compete to see how red they can make their wives' bottoms with just five swats, but Martel will only make sure that there is some color for the picture. Although you are given the pillow to use afterwards at the celebration gathering, you will not need it. Remember that no man would spoil his enjoyment of the wedding night by causing too much pain at the ceremony."

Somehow she didn't believe that her fountain of knowledge was talking about having sex. "You mean the women get another spanking that night?"

"But of course, love," Shalimerie laughed. "Though it is a gentle one, compared to many of those that come after. Kronitin was especially kind with me, because he knew that I had been brought up to spank men, so it was difficult for me to assume the other role. I am sure Martel will be understanding with you as well."

As far as I'm concerned, understanding is in very short supply around here, Janys thought. How could she possibly bring herself to go through with this wedding?

Unfortunately she could think of no better alternative by the time the suns rose the next day. Shalimerie appeared early to help her dress. The first thing she did was order Janys to take off her Earth panties. "You will not be needing these again," she announced as Janys reluctantly complied.

Next Shalimerie helped her on with the tunic. Janys shuddered as the fasteners were clasped, knowing that soon they were going to be opened to reveal her naked buttocks to everyone. Just concentrate on surviving, she told herself. Someday Prof will come and rescue you from all of this, but for now you have to do what they tell you.

She had been in the community hall on several occasions, and was surprised to see that someone had made an effort to decorate it with vines of red gonasterian flowers. However there was no aisle, and unlike Earth weddings, no one turned to watch the bride's processional to the front. The only ones paying attention to her were Yagote, glaring at her from the side wall, and Martel, whose eyes flickered approvingly over her ensemble.

Tadewidan stood at the front, much as he had done during her trial. "Usually one of the senior elders presides over weddings," he told her. "But the council agreed this was special, and I should continue as leader." In case something happens and I bolt, Janys added silently.

The opening lines had not strayed far from their original Earth counterparts. "People of Wyteen," he pronounced. "We have gathered today to witness the marriage of our friend and neighbor Martel to Janys Livingston, a woman from what many decadons ago was our home planet. From this day forward, these two people will make their home together, living in trust, fidelity, and love."

Love? she wanted to shriek. I don't love him. How could I ever love someone who is looking forward to whipping me. Yet she kept her silence through the rest of Tadewidan's pronouncements, waiting apprehensively for the moment when Shalimerie would give her the paddle.

It came soon enough. As she stumbled through the so-called happiness song, she looked down and found it touching her palm. Closing her eyes, she held it, then turned to put it in Martel's right hand. Everyone paused as though expecting her to say something, and she wondered what on earth the other brides said at this time. But that's it, she thought as she fought the urge to laugh uncontrollably. I'm not on Earth.

After an awkward moment Martel stepped behind her. Tadewidan clasped her wrists, pulling her forward and downward so that her rear end jutted towards the audience. He held her tightly so that she couldn't move as she felt the cloth part down her back. Tears of embarrassment sprung into her eyes as she realized she was fully exposed…

"The paddle furthers the attributes of a happy marriage," the elder intoned. "This couple will christen it today in the name of those virtues. First we have—

"Honesty," the audience intoned. CRACK! Janys jumped as much as Tadewidan's grasp would allow her as the wood connected to her buttocks. She winced as she felt the sting radiating out.

"Promptness," she heard, and another crack rang out. Now she was biting her lip. "Responsibility." This one caught her hard right above the thighs, and she gasped. "Faithfulness." As she tried to choke back a cry, she looked up. Tadewidan was smiling down at her as he witnessed her growing discomfort.

"Obedience." Martel put the full force of his arm into this last one, aimed directly in the middle. If the elder hadn't been supporting her, she would have pitched forward. He continued to hold her, nodding approvingly at the tears seeping down her face, while Kronitan recorded the state of her posterior for posterity.

When he finally released her she realized her clothing had been restored, though the skin rubbing against the tunic was now hot and sore. She was still reeling from the experience when Martel slipped an open band of metal around her wrist. Tadewidan lit a candle, then held the flame close to her hand. He's going to burn me? she screamed inside, her body readying itself to run, but he touched it carefully to the ends of the metals, then pinched them together to form a bracelet too small to fit over her hand. Turning to Martel, he did the same.

"These bracelets symbolize your union," Tadewidan continued. "If either of you removes it, the marriage has ended."

In other words, no one gets to slip off their wedding ring for a night on the town, Janys thought grimly as she examined this attachment. The pain was ebbing from her backside, but she couldn't remember ever being this miserable. Here she was, standing next to a man she didn't love who had just given her a public spanking. And if no one came through to help her, this was how she was going to spend the rest of her unhappy life.

Her thoughts were spiraling out of control when she was pulled back into the present by Martel facing her. He brushed his lips against hers, and to her astonishment her mouth betrayed her by starting to return the kiss, until she wrenched it away. For a moment he looked at her sadly, then nodded and turned to face the crowd. "On to the celebration!" he announced grimly.

The people of Wyteen tried hard, but they seemed to be having as much trouble working up enthusiasm as were the bridal couple. At least the tables in the square had been filled with food and drink for the midday meal. Although Janys rarely consumed alcohol before nightfall, she had a glass in hand of the local wine when Martel reappeared at her side. "Not today," he told her shortly as he poured it out.

What do you mean? she raged inwardly. At least the drink would soften the edges of this nightmare. She wanted to run back and get another but her sensible side kicked in. The council might annul the marriage if it saw a new wife deliberately defying her husband. Make that "spanking new" wife, she reminded herself grimly, wishing she had an opportunity to discreetly examine the damage.

Although she blushed at the concept, when Martel brought her the pillow made of sandalie threads, cool and smooth as silk, she was ready to sit down. From her vantage point she studied the people. While she had interviewed some of them for her research, most were new. Although one face looked familiar—the unfortunate Mistress Plettigan, who was standing quietly by a table of pastries, her eyes on the ground. Janys morbidly wondered what the woman's private areas looked like after yesterday's whipping.

Eventually Martel joined her as he polished off a leg of bondoliere. "Shalimerie tells me you have not slept well these past nights," he murmured. "Perhaps we should leave now so that you may nap until the evening meal. You should be fully rested this evening."

"All right," she agreed, wanting to get out of the shadowless heat of the twin suns. Thought as far as rest was concerned, she thought that by nightfall she might appreciate anything that dulled her senses, even if it were fatigue.

"I will say our goodbyes to my family and Tadewidan so we can slip away quietly," he promised.

However someone must have overheard their plans, because a number of people were standing at the entrance to the path leading to Martel's cottage. "Use that paddle tonight!" one man yelled. "Show her how we make our own red sun on Demeter!"

Janys's face was scarlet as they finally broke away. Martel clutched both the pillow and the paddle under his right arm as he encircled Janys's with his left. As they climbed past the trees to his gate, she could see the bracelet slipping up and down.

At his doorstep, he stopped and laid the two items on the ground. "On Earth I have heard that the husband carries the wife over the threshold. Would you like me to do so?"

For a moment she wondered why her heart leaped at the idea of being taken in his arms, but she stifled the thought. Instead she stared at him - this man whose features were still as unfamiliar as the Demeter sky. Then she looked at his small cottage made of the local equivalent of sandstone. Her new prison. The symbolic chain binding her to a life of pain and misery.

"This is no Earth marriage," she said finally, ignoring the instant pain in his eyes. Then she stepped past him into her new life.