PETALS OF ROSE
Mark Stiegler
Look to the Rose that blows about us— “Lo, Laughing,” she says, “Into the World I blow, At once the Silken Petals of my Being Tear, and my Treasure to the Great Winds throw.” —Rosan translation of the Lazarine translation of the
English translation of the Rubaiyat by Omar Khayyam
SORREL EVERWOOD FELT IS EARS SLOWLY BEING AMPUTATED; he reached Up to adjust the damn strap on his infrared goggles a tenth time. While he was there, he adjusted the coloration control as well.
At last the Rosan he faced looked like the Rosans in xenoanthropological films. Hundreds of delicate cooling fins, the Rosan equivalent of scales or feathers, covered his body. He seemed to be wearing flower petals, petals of deep red laced with a fine network of pink veins. His wide, gentle eyes were violet with flecks of gold. The gold in his eyes matched the gold in his medallion, the medallion of the ruling Bloodbond.
Some of his petals were curled, and turned green toward the edges.
Or Sae Hi Tor must be old for a Rosan, Sorrell decided before concentrating again on the Bloodbond’s words.
“I assure you we’ll give you all the help, the highest priorities, available.” Or Sae spoke slowly in logitalk for the humans. “Obviously we stand to gain even more from a translight communicator than you do. And I hope that—”
Or Sae rose suddenly from his chair, heading for the exit passage. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “May you die by a . . . rising . . .” He crumpled to the floor.
. . .
