The Obar Princess had asked for the longest table available, so that the scent of Ambassador’s garments would be as far from her as possible. He came at the right time and they exchanged a few pleasantries—generously sprinkled with stinging remarks—then they took seats at the table.
     First on their menu was a “Gashlen Crème” soup. Shalle was very curious to see how the peasant was handling the delicate serving utensils with his big, knotty hands. To her shock and surprise, the peasant was well familiar with the most refined rules; even naturally elegant!

     “Do you savor your soup, Ambassador?” asked Shalle. She insisted on addressing to him using his official title hoping he would notice it, and do the same for her.
     He replied while watching her with sincere eyes, “It is good; actually, quite good. Thank you, Miss Naydhu. On Aggrea, we live close to the nature, and we enjoy cooking very much. When you will come to visit our beautiful Planet, Miss Naydhu, I am going to prepare a few soups for you, a lot better than your people do it.”
     The Obar Princess felt an involuntary jolt of bursting into laughter. She controlled herself, then she replied smiling amused, “Thank you for your generous offer, Ambassador, though I am afraid I feel quite comfortable with our . . . modest quality.” Then, she inquired, “If you do not mind, what is your profession? I mean . . . occupation . . .”
     He smiled rather sarcastically at her, then answered, “I am a farmer, Miss Naydhu.”
     “Farming . . . what?” asked the Princess intrigued.
     He stopped eating and looked straight into her eyes for a few brief moments, then he replied in a serious tone, “Actually, there are two domains of equal interest to me. One is the interrelation matter-thought, and the other one is the atom.”
     He resumed eating, and it took quite some time before the Princess remembered she should not stare at people and, definitely, not with her mouth open!
     Shalle was very beautiful, though she wouldn’t quite line up into the row of “stunning beauties”. She had a wonderful brown hair, and incredibly beautiful light-brown eyes—almost yellow! Her face was oval, with a small pointy nose and a wonderful smile. The Princess was past the first youth age, at 37 Obar years, and she had a medium height, slim body. Her personal belief was, true beauty came from sympathy, compassion, nice manners, from an honest and open behavior, and from a very rich intellect.
     The Princess had just finished seven Obar years of training at the University of Physics on the famous Planet G’na, in the Vatg’na System, and she was returning home, to Obar, when she heard about the Aggrea Ambassador’s mission. Her License in Physics was not the first one, since the Princess was also licensed in Social Psychology, and for certain not the last one, because Shalle enjoyed learning very much—to her father’s despair—a lot more than flirting with “possible good candidates”.
     The Obar Princess asked—in fact, she had insisted—to transport the Ambassador of Aggrea on her private spaceship. Her request had been approved, after many fruitless deliberations of trying to divert her intentions, because the Princess was the only person in the Great Obar Empire capable of getting whatever she wanted from the Great Obar Emperor.

     The Princess had recovered from her internal shock, then said, a lot softer and a lot less formal, “Excuse me please, Mr. Dar’Raen, but I was told that Aggrea is a Planet of . . . of farmers.”
     “Of course it is, Miss Naydhu; we are all farmers. You see, try to imagine that you are a great scientist, and you want to build a perfect automaton. You could start with synthesized organic and inorganic materials, with machinery and circuitry, though you will end up with just a poor, limited, mechanical construction. On the other hand, nature has already licensed the carbon-based animal organism. Therefore, if you manage to add some power of imagination and an elevated logic into it, then you will have the perfect biologic automaton you dream of—in other words we, the people.
     Now, your biologic creation is capable of learning, of adapting to various natural conditions, and of developing into very complex social environments—as is the Great Obar Empire for example. However, the basic, initial construction remains the same: carbon-based, mammal, animal organism.
     Nature has created a being of an incredible perfection, Miss Naydhu, having powers we barely start to discover, but only if we research this wonderful biological construction inside its natural environment. If we corrupt the initial design with an artificial, sterile, social environment, then many of the primary functions of the prototype would disappear. Do you appreciate this brief description, Miss Naydhu?”
     “Are you telling me, Mr. Dar’Raen, that you are actually studying the psychic of the subject—you, in this case—inside its natural environment?” Shalle was greatly surprised to discover the peasant was capable of expressing such intricate ideas using refined and comprehensible phrasing.
     “Exactly, Miss Naydhu. Farming is an excellent natural environment for people; it is also very healthy, and a pleasing way of life. However, to me, and to everybody else on Aggrea, farming is just a hobby.”
     The Obar Princess kept silent for a while, analyzing the news. She was thinking, it was possible that she and everybody else were mistaking, and the people on Aggrea were not quite . . . peasants. Then she remembered his clothes, and the smell . . .
     Shalle asked, “I am told, Mr. Dar’Raen, that your people have great mental powers. Would you mind if I dare to ask you to show me some of your powers?”
     They were having “Anvasdia Gourmet”—grilled fish fillet in a delicious wine sauce—and Dar’Raen was eating passionately. He replied casually, “Not at all, Miss Naydhu. What would you like me to do?”
     “I do not know. Aah . . . Pass your salt to me, please.”
     “Here you are, Miss Naydhu.”
     He did not even look at her, and she saw no movement. After a few moments, she noticed that his salt container was missing and she had two of them! Shalle said in a disappointed, slightly reproachful tone of voice, “Oh, I haven’t seen anything, Mr. Dar’Raen. Could you, please, do it very slow?”
     He replied, “Of course, Miss Naydhu. Watch this, please.”
     The Ambassador continued eating vigorously, without looking at her. One of her salt containers rose well above the table surface, then it came slowly in his front and it aligned in row with the other spice containers.
     The Obar Princess clapped her hands of joy a few times, then said, “Ha, ha! How nice! Thank you, Mr. Dar’Raen. I do realize now that those incredible stories people tell about your Planet are, without doubt, perfectly possible.”
     “It always depends on who tells the story, Miss Naydhu,” objected Dar’Raen. He had finished his third helping of “Anvasdia Gourmet”, and decided to start with a particularly tempting, nicely spiced, vegetables and cheese pie named “Cordej Variety”.
     Shalle replied, “All right then; could you, please, tell me your side of the story, Mr. Dar’Raen?”
     The Ambassador watched her with troubled eyes for a few moments. He looked at the pie and then back at her again. He said timidly, “Of course, I will, Miss Naydhu, but . . . Would you mind if I first finish this pie, please?”
     The Princess blushed, then she said quickly, “Of course—Ha, ha! How rude of me! Please forgive me, Mr. Dar’Raen.”
     “You do not need to apologize, Miss Naydhu. On the contrary, I should be the one to apologize for eating like a peasant, but the truth is . . . Although your food is delicious—especially this pie, Miss Naydhu; please, send my compliments to the Chef. As I said, although delicious, your food lacks the adequate quantity of glucose, fats, proteins, vitamins and minerals you can find in some natural, rich food products.”
     “I am sorry, Mr. Dar’Raen, but I am afraid I do not eat very fat, too sweet, or too much,” replied the Princess smiling amused, and feeling again just ready to burst into laughter.
     “Fats and oils are very important for your organism, Miss Naydhu. They are used in all vital fluids inside your body, and for the production of energy—like it or not. If your organism cannot find the fats it needs in food, it will create them. However, before creating anything, your organism is going to consume the existing ones, as is the thin, though the greatly needed fat stratum under your beautiful skin. That is why, after the age of eighty, most of the Ladies in the Great Obar Empire have so many wrinkles on face and neck.”
     “Ha, ha! You scare me to death, Mr. Dar’Raen, therefore I shall start eating fat!” promised Shalle amused, while thinking he was either very rude or not quite sane. No true Gentleman would dare talking to a Lady about wrinkles and skin.
     The Ambassador continued with his well-intentioned advices, “Various, natural fats and oils, and in small quantities, Miss Naydhu. And do not forget a little healthy natural tan on your delicate skin, from time to time.”
     “Thank you for your enlightening guidance, Mr. Dar’Raen,” replied Shalle amused and greatly amazed by his rude manners. Then she thought, “Is my skin too white for him?” and later, “Is he an expert in Ladies’ skin?” She asked intrigued, “Are you married, Mr. Dar’Raen?”
     The Ambassador turned to a troubled attitude and replied timidly, “Unfortunately no, Miss Naydhu. Somehow, I never found the time to learn how to make myself pleasant within Ladies’ company. Please, excuse any blunt remarks, or any unintentional lack of manners.”
     “Aha! He admits it,” thought the Princess with satisfaction. She said, “You do not need to apologize, Mr. Dar’Raen. Actually, I find your conversation quite interesting.”
     Dar’Raen finished eating, then he gulped down two cups of Hervernt’En water—the best one throughout the entire Empire. He said, “Now, I am all yours, Miss Naydhu.”



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