"Why not? You can't crave your own people?"
"We do not have any females."
She blinked. "You're all men?"
He nodded. "We have no females to produce more offspring. Hence my word, 'pointless' earlier." The need to mate, to desire someone, was futile because nothing could come from it other than basic desire and short-term fulfillment. While they were not encouraged to couple with other female humanoids, it was not exactly promoted. However, they were not poorly looked on it for participating.
On the off chance that someone was able to produce offspring.
"Surely there are other humanoids who can carry your children!"
He shook his head. "We have looked but have yet to find one that has the proper genome to mix with ours and produce a viable child." So far, no race any of the Rhimodians had attempted to conceive with were able to make an embryo. Some humanoids had even been kind enough to donate their eggs for testing, in case it helped, according to records within Master System.
She shook her head. "No wonder the pleasure women like you."
"Why?"
"No risk of them having babies unexpectedly.'
"If one were to have our child, that woman would be adored by our people."
No truer words could be said--the Rhimodians would protect any child that was born with all that they had.
"I'm sure," Eleanor said. "I'm sorry."
"For?"
"Being a pain today. For pushing you about your people."
"Why? You asked questions. I answered them."
"I feel like I should answer some of your questions about the Terran Empire."
He nodded. "If you would like. I am here to keep you safe. You are not expected to be interrogated."
She held up her hand, a smile on her face. "I didn't sign up for an interrogation. I just thought if you had a question or two, that would be all right. After all, you answered mine. And I feel like I asked a lot of personal questions."
He nodded and thought about what he could ask about her people. He'd not met too many Terrans. Occasionally he'd run across one or two on Disguised Serenity. Some were there representing the Terran Empire, but some were not. Just humanoids looking for a place to be.
Then he had one. "Why all the heavy clothing?"
She smiled. "That's easy. It's a formal dress. Designed to make us look, special I guess. As part of Empirical culture, clothing shows status, and as a member of the Royal Family, I have to look a certain way, all the time. For a special occasion, like these peace talks, I need to have a particular look, something that shows my station."
"We do not have a wide clothing variety. We wear our lysteel body suits."
"Can you wear other things?"
"If they fit." He gestured to the pile of dressings on the table that he'd helped her remove. "But all of that. What does it mean?"
"My sister always said that when we wore our most formal clothing, that we were showing the most respect to the people we were greeting. Whether it was leaving the palace or greeting guests. The effort it took to dress meant that we spent that time preparing for you. That you should feel special because we took the time to make sure we looked our best for you."
"So your heavy clothing is for me."
"For the Rhimodians, yes," she said. "To tell you that we care to be here. It is one of those subtle signals Terrans use."
"Your people do tend to manipulate and redirect things."
She raised an eyebrow. "I am not sure if I should be insulted by that."
