Janys woke while the house was still silent. First she let her hands roam her backside, checking its condition. Surprisingly she seemed to have recovered enough that she didn't think sitting would be a problem. Thank God Martel had held back from doing anything more serious to her with the paddle.

She got up and tiptoed down the hallway to the lavatory, again thanking the universe that modern plumbing hadn't been banned by on the planet as "seductive technology". However the Borocavians did watch their allocation of water because so much was necessary to keep the food crops growing in the heat. This meant everyone only took full baths every three days. Because her last one had been the night before yesterday's wedding, she would have to wait until tomorrow to enjoy another. Regretting yet another loss from her previous life, she did the best she could with a sponge bath.

Afterwards she slipped back into the white tunic. Although she didn't care at all for the garment's style, she hoped that Martel would make good on his promise to get her additional ones today so that she could wear something different. Fortunately Shalimerie had bought several sets of prander, so at least she had something fresh for undergarments.

Today I'll do better, she promised. When I cooperated last night, Martel was gentle with me. Whatever I feel underneath it all, if on the surface I do as I'm told, maybe I can avoid any punishment today. Yet the weight of the bibilon in the pocket of the tunic reminded her that she would have to be very careful.

By now she could hear Martel downstairs in the kitchen. She put on her slippers and went down, finding him by the stove. "Do you cook?" he asked as he stirred something that looked like chinichon eggs.

"Not really," she confessed. "I just had to do it once, when we were camping out on Sutrena."

"Then I will add it to the list of subjects for my mother to cover," he told her, flipping over the gooey green mess. "I think you will find that she is quite good at it."

Already Janys felt Ellondelle must be the only perfect person in the universe, but she didn't want to find herself on the wrong end of another instructional session by insulting his mother. She ate some of the chinichon, avoiding looking at it directly. As with many Demetian foods, it was quite delicious, but the colors jarred too much with the machine-produced food she'd been used to at the Institute. This time she did help him clean up, and for the first time since the disastrous men's gathering saw him smile the way she first remembered.

He gathered together the papers from the night before that he'd apparently been working on while she had been in display in front of the kitchen cabinet. "Remember to take your book," he advised. "My mother will need it for the test."

Test? Suddenly Janys wondered if she'd made the right decision to trade reading for journal writing. But then she reminded herself she was being silly. Before undertaking the assignment to this planet, she had spent over six Earth months absorbing everything she could find concerning Demeter. Certainly she would know the material in a child's schoolbook.

Technically speaking Martel's parents were their neighbors, but Janys was glad to find that because of the slopes in the sandy hills, it took over ten minutes to cover the distance. The elder couple's residence was the bigger of the two. "My father built it so that they could have many children," Martel told her sadly as they walked up the path. "But after Kronitin, the medics told them there could be no more without use of forbidden technology. That was one reason why my mother wanted to take in Yagote when her parents died."

Remembering the many unpleasant ways Yagote had looked at her since her trial, Janys doubted the other woman regarded Martel as just a brother. But because they were just steps from the front door, she decided to bring up the subject another time.

A few minutes later, she wished she had taken the opportunity to tell Martel her concerns about Yagote. When Ellondelle opened the door, the younger girl was scowling behind her. "Come in," his mother greeted them. "Martel, I have thought of an excellent idea, if it should meet your approval."

"Tell me," he urged after hugging both of the women. Janys was not delighted to watch Yagote replace her curled down mouth with curled up lips as she lingered a second too long in Martel's embrace.

"I have thought that lessons in housekeeping may be in order," Ellondelle continued. "For I do not think an Institute researcher would be taught many of those skills."

Martel beamed at her. "We were just discussing cooking as a possible subject of instruction, but you are right—there are many other occupations which should also be covered."

"I thought I would use this house here as a source of tasks. While I supervise Janys over here, Yagote will take care of those matters I normally do at your place."

For once Janys wished that Yagote would have one of her customary expressions of displeasure at this additional workload, but she instead she smiled as though thrilled at the opportunity. "Is that necessary?" Janys broke in. "I mean, I would hate to make anyone do extra work. Surely I can take care of in the evening whatever needs to be done at the other house."

Martel and Ellondelle both frowned at her, missing Yagote's glare. "I do not think Janys fully understands the strains upon her time and body the next few weeks will bring as she adjusts to our way of life," Martel said at last. "Mother, I believe your idea is excellent for making things move more smoothly during this learning period."

"I am certain that Janys understands this will not be for a sustained period of time, and that Yagote is more than willing to take on this burden," Ellondelle agreed.

What I understand is that everyone talks around me as if I either weren't here, or were a child too young to speak for myself, Janys raged. Yagote's dark eyes glittered at her. But she managed to hold her tongue during the round of good byes, even though it bothered her when Martel and Yagote left together down the path.

"Let us begin," Ellondelle announced briskly. "As I mentioned last night, we have cleared off the desk that Martel once used. I will take you there shortly so I may check you on the history you were to read last night. But first we will work on something more simple. Come with me to the back yard."

Reluctantly Janys followed the older woman through the house and kitchen. A small door led to an area partially enclosed from the constantly blowing desert winds. A few of the hardier trees and some sparse vegetation told her it was intended to be a Demetian-style garden.

Ellondelle turned and faced Janys, her back framed by the spiked branches and touches of greenery. "Janys, do you understand that for the purposes of our lessons together, your husband has put me in his place as your disciplinarian?"

"Yes," Janys answered uncomfortably. Somehow with the outdoors as a background, the woman seemed more imposing than before with her severely cut blue tunic and graying blonde braids held to her head with three black combs.

"That you are to answer to me in exactly the same way you would to him?" Ellondelle continued.

"I guess," Janys gulped.

"I see," the other woman responded with a slight frown. "Then let us test your understanding. Go to those trees over there, break off three switches, and bring them to me."

For the umpteenth time in a handful of days, Janys felt as though an earthquake were rocking her world. "What—what did you say?" she finally got out.

"Three switches," Elondelle repeated impatiently. "I want each to be at least as long as my forearm and as thick as my thumb."

"But I haven't done anything!" Janys protested.

"From my viewpoint, the problem is that you are not now doing as I told you," her instructor commented, "Now get over there this instant."

"But it's not fair!" she said, backing up. Unfortunately she didn't get far enough before Elondelle's arms whipped out and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"March!" Elondelle commanded as she pushed her unwilling daughter-in-law towards the trees. Although Janys tried to squirm out of her grasp, the long fingers dug deeply into the top of her arms until she looked up to see the straggly trees. "Now get the switches!"

Somehow although her shoulders felt like they were caught in a vice, Janys managed to pull off three branches and hand them to Elondelle. She dropped her hold on Janys's right shoulder for a moment to take them, then immediately clamped her left hand onto Janys's forearm.

"Are you right or left-handed?" she demanded.

"Right," Janys answered automatically as she tried to cope with this newest onslaught on her body.

"Then Janys, you need to listen carefully, because this is going to make a difference to you in the things you do for the rest of the day." She paused, making sure that her captive was looking back into her icy blue eyes.

"For your disobedience in refusing to do as I asked without my intervention, I am going to switch one of your hands until the palm is swollen. If I have to do this without your cooperation, it will be your right hand, because that is the one I can restrain and punish most effectively." To illustrate her point, she wrenched Janys's arm so that it was straight out, ready to receive the first blow. "But that will make it very difficult for you to write or eat or undress or do many other tasks. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Janys whispered.

"So I would prefer to use your left one instead. But that will mean that you have to hold it out yourself so that I only have to use mine to steady you." Again the blue eyes bored into Janys's head. "Which do you choose—the right or the left?"

For a long moment there was only the sound of the wind whispering through the little area. Then Elondelle dropped two of the switches and tightened her grip on Janys's right arm as she raised the remaining one high above her head.

"No!" Janys wailed. "Do the left one!"

"Excellent," the older woman responded, switching her hold to Janys's left arm. "Now uncurl your fingers. This is going to be hard, but you are going to have to keep your hand flat until I am done. If you do not, or if you pull it away, I will start over on the right one."

The second Janys flattened out her fingers, the switch descended. Janys jumped as the line of pain cut across her palm. The next blow came immediately, like lightning flicks across her smooth skin. Gritting her teeth, she grimly continued to hold out her sacrificial hand as the switch struck again and again…

For a while she averted her face from Elondelle, much as she'd turned away from the robo-medics when they extracted blood from her arm. But eventually she found herself looking back.

She hadn't been able to see Martel's expression when he'd spanked her for kicking him, but somehow she imagined it had been one of either anger or enjoyment. Elondelle surprised her. Although she was wielding the switch with precision, her face didn't betray feelings of either rage or delight. Rather she had the same look as Janys's fellow researchers did when undergoing low-level physical training—as though they were performing a repetitive task they didn't much like.

As the pain crescendoed, Janys was finding it harder to keep her hand in place. All she wanted to do was jerk it away and cup it her chest. Instead she had to stand there watching it turn red until mercifully numbness began to set in.

Apparently Elondelle realized that the punishment had reached its point of diminishing returns. With three extremely hard final strokes, she dropped her hold on Janys's arm, then bent to pick up the other two switches. "We will go inside," she said quietly. "I will give you a moment to soak that before our next lesson. But meanwhile I want you to remember that if you had simply done as you should, your hand would not be aching right now. I asked you to cut the switches to see if you had learned to obey without question. I had no intention of using any of them on you until you deserved it."

A few moments later as the cool water ran over her hand, Janys finally let herself cry. Despite her good intentions this morning, she had once again failed to sidestep a punishment that could easily have been avoided. Unless I want another switching, I'd better be more careful she muttered as Elondelle called her out to the living room.

Fortunately nothing went wrong for a little while as Elondelle sat her down and discussed the use of the bibalon. "The punishment you just received was—"

"Instanner," Janys responded promptly.

"That is true," Elondelle acknowledged. "Which means that I will not ask you to write down your act of disobedience as something to be dealt with at the decedonner. But I will ask you to record in the bibalon that the punishment occurred. I do not know if Martel will so choose, but some husbands weigh the number of punishments needed during the period in determining the implement used for the decedonner itself. In any event, a husband is entitled to know each punishment his wife receives, so although I will tell him directly, you should also write it down."

Janys extracted the small volume from the pocket of her tunics and wrote what Elondelle dictated about their session in the backyard. The older woman peered over her shoulder. "You have not recorded your punishment from last night," she commented. So Janys described that as well, blushing as she remembered that her mother-in-law had seen the full impact of Martel's hand on her backside while Janys had been on display in the kitchen.

As soon as Janys had finished writing, Elondelle ushered her into the kitchen, and they spent the time before the midday meal on the wonders of Demetian breads, meats and vegetables. Although Janys couldn't imagine ever liking a woman who had shown no more compunction about tenderizing her palm than she did a cut of tetralion prime, the younger woman had to agree with Martel that Elondelle had her way with cooking utensils.

She also found out something astonishing: her mother-in-law had been born on one of the Varga colonies, and had only emigrated to Demeter after meeting Martel's father. Not only that, but she had a physicist brother working at the Institute. Although Janys had never met the man, she certainly recognized his name.

"What did he think about your coming here?" she ventured.

"Not much. Back then the Institute took a very dim view of this world." Elondelle's sharp glance invited Janys's echo that nothing had changed. But when no confirmation came, the older woman continued.

"Strangely what bothered him most was not the loss of technology, because our family never bought the latest implants, but my change in language. As you know, the original colonists contained many Amish and others who hated 'technospeak' as much as the gadgetry. Plus the nature of our interactions requires greater formality. Live here long enough, Janys, and you too will stop using contractions or slang."

Yeah, about the time I start wanting to writing things down in that little book without anyone telling me, Janys snorted. How could this woman be so crazy as to give up civilization for a life sentence on Demeter?

They washed down large sandwiches of their concoctions with something resembling Earth tea while Janys trolled for more details, but Elondelle's revelations had ended for the day. After clearing away the dishes, she picked up the history book Janys had brought over. "Fetch the switches and report upstairs to the third room on the left," she directed. "We will have your first history test."

This time Janys retrieved the switches without any comment, although she wondered how her instructor intended to use them. Soon she learned the unsettling answer as Elondelle arranged the desk chair and the one next to it so they were facing each other. After laying the three switches on the desk top within easy reach, she pulled a piece of paper and pencil from the drawer. She drew a line down the center of the paper, then placed it and the pencil at the edge of the desk.

"Pull up your tunic so that it goes no lower than your knees," she ordered. "Then sit down right here." She pointed to the main desk chair. "I am going to ask you a series of questions based on the material you read last night. If you know an answer, we will go on to the next question, and I will make a check in the first column. If you do not know an answer, you will receive one strike across your shins, and I will place a check in this second column.

"When we are done, we will compare the checks in both columns. If there are more checks in the first column, you will have passed your first test, and other than giving you a new assignment, that will be all we will do today. If there are more checks in the second, I will determine the difference, and you will receive that many strikes across the back of your calves with two switches at once."

She smiled at Janys. "Fortunately I do not think we will have to go beyond that today or perhaps ever, because this is very easy test for anyone who read the material. But if it should turn out the difference is greater than twenty, I will know that you did not prepare for it, and I will again use two switches together across the front of your thighs."

Now Janys wished that she had at least opened the book. Still she had great faith that her Institute study would come through.

Her confidence lasted through the first question, which asked for the date of planetfall, and began floundering on the second. "Who was the first colonist to step forth onto our new world?" Elondelle asked.

The first one off the ship? Janys knew the leader of the expedition, because that had been important to understanding why the first settlers have abandoned Earth and its technology for this hot, dry world. But had Anne Spencer Robinson been the one out the door first, or had she sent someone more expendable? If so, Janys had no idea who it might be, so she was stuck with Anne.

Elondelle was not amused. "The answer was William Matheson," she told her as she picked up one of the switches and brought it down sharply right below Janys's knees making her squeal. "Next question," she intoned as she made a check in the second column.

Within minutes the first column looked unoccupied compared to the second, and Janys's legs were starting to throb. Still Elondelle's questions poured forth. Who had been killed in the tetralion stampede? What was the name of the first child born a Demetian? When did they get the first electric generator fully operational for the entire colony?

Embarrassed at her lack of knowledge, Janys didn't protest when Elondelle told her to get up and turn the chair sideways, then lie across it so that the backs of her legs were stretched out and pointing towards her instructor. "You missed twenty-six more questions than you got right," the older woman announced. "Which means that you completely failed your first test. Please keep your tunic above your knees while I deal with your calves."

Janys had figured from the way her shins were stinging that this would be no treat, but she had underestimated the power of the double switch. In addition, the previous application had been broken with pauses for questions. Now Elondelle administered the strokes rhythmically, beginning just above her ankle and moving towards her knees, then back down.

When she hit twenty-one, she stopped. "No more kicking," she told Janys firmly. "I want you perfectly still for these last five, or I will do it all over again."

Janys held on tightly to the chair legs as the double switch connected the remaining times. Now both the lower front and back of her legs throbbed along with her left hand. "Stand up" Elondelle ordered. "I want you sitting down facing me again for this final part. Your hands will be on the edges of the seat."

As Janys painfully rearranged herself, she saw Yagote had returned. The dark haired woman was hovering at the edge of the living room, obviously enjoying Janys's discomfort. How much of that did she see? Janys wondered.

Elondelle bent over Janys's chair, folding the tunic back so that it barely touched the top of her thighs. Next she rolled up the short legs on the prander to the level of the tunic, exposing the soft white area from her waist to her knees. Then she glanced back over her should at her ward. "Yagote, please come over here."

No! Janys silently pled as the sly-faced young woman took a place behind her chair. "I am afraid, Janys, that you are going to have difficulty staying still for this next part. The upper thighs are a very sensitive area. In fact, I know that before we are done you are going to wish that I had the same power my son does to switch your bottom instead. But this should be a very effective reminder to study for your next test. Hold her."

Before Janys could react, she found the full weight of Yagote wrapped around her arms and upper body, keeping her hands from coming off the seat. Sharp fingernails dug into her skin as Elondelle stood up and raised the double switch. Janys watched it come down, unable to turn away because of the way that Yagote had her pinned or do anything except cry out as the sticks met their mark.

Later Janys would realize that this final part of her punishment for doing poorly on the test could not have taken much longer than when her calves were spanked, because Elondelle used the same steady rhythm. But it seemed like forever as she felt Yagote's breath on the back of her neck and a slight shaking which she took to be laughter each time Janys reacted to the pain. Although she didn't want to cry in front of either of these women, Janys was once again sobbing well before the final stroke.

Finally Elondelle gestured to Yagote to release her grip, but told Janys sternly that she was not to touch her flaming thighs. "We will not be able to move on with your history lessons until you have mastered the beginning material," she announced. "For our remaining time together, you will have display standing up and facing the door, while Yagote sits at the desk and reads the chapters to you. This way I know that you will be exposed to the material. I suggest that you do not let your mind wander, because I will test you again at the end of the day to make certain you have listened."

Sometimes Janys would wonder how she got through the rest of the afternoon, holding the tunic and prander material up to show where the switches had left their mark while Yagote read line after line slowly, as though Janys were a small child unable to follow. She was still in this humiliating position when Martel returned to pick her up.

His calm blue eyes took in everything from his wife's reddened thighs to Yagote's oral interpretation of basic history. "What happened?" he asked his mother.

Because Yagote kept on, Janys was unable to hear what Elondelle told her son. Somehow Janys had hoped that Martel would be outraged by his wife's treatment. But instead all that happened was that he looked exasperated. "Please stop for a minute, Yagote. I wish to understand this situation. Janys, please tell me how you did so poorly on a test over material you told me you read last night."

"I—" she started, unable to think of a response.

Yagote broke in. "Perhaps she does not read," she said sweetly. "I have heard that in the high technology society, people use implants and hearing to gather information. Perhaps Janys does not read the written word well enough to understand this history book."

Martel began, "She knows how to write well enough to keep a diary—"

"Like hell I don't know how to read a middle school textbook!" Janys snapped "I've gotten through whole treatises on this planet! I bet I've read more about it than all of you combined!"

Suddenly everyone was staring at her. As she saw the small smile creep over Yagote's face, Janys realized she had fallen into the trap.

"But did you read this book last night?" Martel demanded, his eyes narrowing.

Already she could see the next lines unfolding. If she lied and said yes, her memory and concentration would be under attack. Yagote would smirk, and both Martel and Elondelle would conclude they were right to treat her as a child.

"No," she replied shortly. "I didn't even open it."

Silence reigned as Martel asked in a deadly quiet voice "Even though you told me you did?"

"Yes," she admitted, her face flushing.

He let her confession echo through the room for a moment, then turned to Elondelle. "If you will leave us alone for a while, I am going to have Janys record her failure to study in the bibalon to be addressed later. Right now we have something more important to discuss.

"Certainly," Elondelle agreed as she handed him the switches before hurrying the grinning Yagote from the room.

Even after the door closed Martel remained silent. Although she expected his anger, what she felt coming from him seemed more like sorrow. "Janys, I know I am asking a lot from you. I do not expect you to love me, or even trust me completely right now, even though you could. But if this is going to work, we have to be truthful with each other. Some things I know will take time for you to learn, but surely you know how to be honest with other people. "

"I was afraid you'd spank me again if I told you I hadn't read the book," she confessed.

"Not last night." He shook his head. "I suggested you do so, and checked to see if you were finished, but I never ordered it. At most I would have required you to write down the item in the bibalon to be considered later. If you had nonetheless done well on the test, I would not have punished you at all, or I might have let my mother handle the matter."

"But I didn't know that!" she protested.

"Then you should have found out by telling me the truth rather than trying to avoid the consequences." He looked at her sadly. "Do you think me a monster even though I do not look for excuses to hurt you? Sometimes I must inflict pain to instill discipline or follow tradition, but I do only what is necessary."

As he'd been about "christening the marital paddle," she remembered. He was right. The only time he'd spanked her hard was when she'd defied and kicked him. Now she felt guilty about lying to him.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her eyes down. "I won't do it again."

When she looked up he was looking at her quizzically. "If you are truly contrite, Janys, there is more that must be said."

What was he asking from her? Suddenly the trial flashed back through her mind. That horrible sentence she'd been forced to say. The one that guaranteed she'd be spanked or worse.

Yet if she didn't say it, she knew he'd never believe her apology, and things would never get better between them. Even if she'd give anything to be gone from here, could she destroy the tiny chance that they could live together if not as man and wife, then friends. Especially when she'd obviously been in the wrong and deserved some sort of sanction, even if she dreaded the form it would take.

"All right," she made herself say.

Martel brightened up at her response. "Then do you take responsibility for lying to me about reading the book?"

"I so admit." She shut her eyes tight, as though it would ease the effect of her words. "And I offer my body for correction."

"Good." For a second she thought he was going to hug her, but instead he stepped back and gestured toward the desk chair. "We could wait until we get home, but I prefer to get this over with as an instanter. I want you to bend over the back of that and hold on tightly."

She did as she was told, biting her lip when he pulled the prander down. Martel held up her tunic with one hand while the other played the doubled switch between her legs, forcing her to stand with them farther apart. Then for yet another time that day she heard the dread swishing before she felt impact on her rear.

If she could, she would have taken the punishment in silence so that neither Elondelle nor Yagote would have the satisfaction of hearing her cry, but she hadn't counted on her emotional reaction. The earlier switchings that day had been only physical, with her hand and legs enduring the pain. But this time she felt as though she truly deserved to be punished for deceiving someone who had no intention of harming her. Although this one didn't sting much more than the hand spanking he'd given her the day before, she started crying immediately at a level easily heard by any eavesdropper.

Unlike Elondelle, Martel had no set number of strokes to deliver. Again Janys lost track of time as the switch did its job over every inch of her buttocks, reaching down to places he hadn't previously touched.

It took her a moment to register that he'd stopped. Then she felt her clothing sliding across her burning skin before he helped her stand up. The other times she'd wanted to get away from him as far as possible. Now she found herself turning until she was sobbing into his chest. His arms wrapped around her, stroking her back. "That was very good, my dear," he whispered into her hair.

His tunic smelled as though it had baked dry in the sun. Again she wondered how his mouth would taste a second time. Yet how could she want to kiss the man responsible for her aching bottom and legs? Previously she'd never believed the "Stockholm Effect" of prisoners siding with their captors, but maybe that explained her strange urge for closeness to her tormentor.

Martel must have sensed the shift in her mood, because he drew away after one last pat on her shoulder blades. "Tomorrow you will have more things to learn, but I believe that is enough for one day."

"I would hope so," she murmured.

As they left the room, Janys discovered Martel's father had also been within hearing distance of her punishment. Yet neither he nor Elondelle acted as though anything unusual had occurred in their household as they made their good-byes. Only Yagote's eyes glittered with glee when Martel silently handed the switches back to his mother.

Outside both of the suns had completely set, plunging Janys into a darkness she'd never fully experienced. Martel switched on a pocket flashlight, playing the beam across the packed earth. "As you know from this morning, our path has loose spots. I offer my arm if you wish."

For a moment she hesitated, then slipped her hand under his tunic sleeve. Again she sniffed the fresh cloth, now catching an underlying hint of sweat. Every time they reached a rough spot, he automatically steadied her. How long had it been since a man tried to protect her from physical danger? Even when she'd gone on projects to the more dangerous planets, all Prof had done was approve her weapons requisitions.

Whatever Yagote had prepared for their dinner filled the house with a yeasty odor. "Go look in your room," Martel advised. "Shalimerie found several things to get you through the next few days. On Gathering Night, she will take you to the shops the women keep open while the men meet so that you may pick out more yourself."

Even though the garments were strange to her, Janys welcomed the clothes arrayed across her bed. As always, Shalimerie had chosen well both in size and color, from a luminous gray to a delicate lavender. While she wished she could have a complete bath before wearing any of them, she would do the best she could.

Janys opened the closet to hang up the garments, then stopped short. She knew she'd left her shipping trunk at the end closest to the bureau. Yet something had shifted it to the other. Although nothing else appeared disturbed, she whirled around and headed towards the kitchen where Martel wrestled with some type of vegetable.

"Do Yagote's chores include cleaning my room?" she demanded.

He looked up in surprise. "I assume so. My mother always swept in there when I occupied it, so she would certainly have told Yagote to do the same."

"Well, there's no need for her to. I would much rather do it myself than have someone moving my things around."

She thought he was going to protest, but he instead he looked thoughtful. "You do have a right to privacy in your home. However I do not want to hurt Yagote by telling her to stay out. Suppose I give you the key to the lock? Then you may decide who enters."

Although she knew his offer concerned Yagote's access, Janys blushed. Martel's kindness couldn't hide the oddness of their marital arrangement. He understood her reaction and flushed as well.

"I didn't mean—"

"I know," she jumped in. "But yes, I'd like to be able to lock the room while we're away."

The next few minutes passed awkwardly while Janys tried to recall what they'd talked about before all of this happened. Mostly he'd answered her questions about Demetian customs. Now that was the last subject she wanted to hear about. And although she would have loved to learn more about his mother's transformation from Protectorate citizen to Wyteen wife, he deflected all inquiries.

Fortunately Martel knew a surprising amount about Earth literature in the days before implants replaced the printed word. He delighted Janys by telling her his friend maintained an extensive private library of everything from Tolstoy to Turow. "When you are ready, we will attend one of his musical evenings. Rodogan has loaned me many volumes, and I am certain he will grant you the same privileges."

Although her body still was sore, Janys felt more peaceful than at any other time since she'd been taken into custody. Other than spanking her for lying, Martel had been considerate to her all day, even on something as touchy as her wanting to keep Yagote away from her things. As she took the key from him, she found her head tilting up, her eyes locking into his own.

"Thank you," she whispered as he bent down. Lower and lower, then his lips met hers, at first softly, then with conviction. His tongue slowly advanced until it played against hers as she cuddled the back of his neck. Now his hands slid down her back, but when he grasped her buttocks, she flinched.

Quickly he drew back, disappointment clouding his eyes. "I believe you have some serious reading to do tonight," he murmured. "Good night, Janys."

She closed the door behind him, then leaned against it, her heart pounding. How could she want a man whose role it was to hurt her? Yet she'd been seconds away from pulling him towards the bed.

Firmly she locked the door. No matter how her body betrayed her, she would not give in.

Someday she would return to her real home. The Institute, where Prof sometimes found his way to her room at night. A room where she could plug in to the latest studies to prepare for her next project, not read children's history books.

Yet when she fell asleep, her final thought was that the sheets smelled like her husband's tunic.