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The Time of Reconciliation
Dr Franklin was walking through the town’s plaza with his official Guide, enjoying the warmth of Tranek Major’s twin suns when the bells rang.
“What’s that all about?” he asked.
“It is the Time of Reconciliation. For exactly one hour in every month, the Rule of Law is suspended for those who have filed an official Tak’reh, or grievance, against another. Some talk things through, though violence is not uncommon. Some deaths are inevitable.”
“By the Mercies, that’s madness!” exclaimed Franklin. Looking around he saw some people arguing. In the distance a couple were hitting each other.
The Guide shook his head sadly. “And still you continue to insult our ways. Did you not read the Rules of Entry upon your arrival at the spaceport?”
“I assumed it was the usual stuff,” replied Franklin. “No hats to be worn on the day of rest, don’t walk on the grass, that sort of thing, common to a dozen different worlds.”
“Indeed, one would not wish to walk on the grass. Incurring a Tak’reh from the Department of Parks is inadvisable. One finds that they have long memories, short tempers and all manner of sharpened gardening implements.”
“Mercies above!” Franklin exclaimed.
“And when I took you into my home and you complained about the room I gave you, did I not once again exhort you to read the Rules of Entry?”
Franklin’s face went ashen.”You, uh, didn’t file one of these Tak’reh things against me for that, did you?”
“Of course not! You are a visitor to our world after all, and I am above such minor indiscretions.”
Franklin’s look of relief changed to wide-eyed shock as he looked down at the knife protruding from his chest.
“However,” continued the Guide, “you insulted my wife’s cooking. I’m afraid that won’t do, Dr. Franklin. No, that won’t do at all.”




