Chapter 9 Archive Log 12.2 Disappointing hosts

After being left alone in that dark room, I stayed and waited...and waited.

It wasn't until a few native days and nights passed that someone showed up before me.

This was clearly unacceptable, and I started to believe that my earlier record about their hospitality been good, had to change.

I mean, which kind of host leaves his guest unattended for so long. I may yet to be very familiar with all the intricacies and cultural habits of the many races that live in this cosmos, but this is a matter of common sense.

Right when I was about to take out my Archive Log to add in my disappointment, the metal door in front of me opened.

Inside the room entered a weird individual of his race. He was standing straight as if he had a problem with his spine, and the two lines of tiny few hairs he had right above his visual organs, were in a diagonal angle leaning on the inner side of them.

I didn't know what his health issues were, but he should be visiting a medicine person of his race to check up on him.

Having an ill individual forsaking his personal treatment to host me was a plus for me, immediately changing my mind about making corrections on their hospitality in the record.

This kind of self-sacrifice for the entertainment of others was deserving a praise in my Archive Log.

Very satisfied with my hosts' attitude, I nodded with approval as he fully entered and stood in front of me.

I expected him to begin speaking his piece, most likely about welcoming me to their city and what manner of items they would provide to make my stay enjoyable but instead stood there and kept watching me.

Of course I would never require any items to enjoy my visit. To enrich my Archive is what I am truly interested in and what brings me satisfaction.

We kept watching each other, with me thinking this was the sort of game they had with their guests before the real entertainment began.

His thoughts were hidden from me, so I could not tell what he was thinking. The only observation I could make was that his illness might have begun to flare up, as one of the hair lines above his visual organs began to twitch a few times. What a pitiful host this was.

Meanwhile, as the staring game with this ill individual continued, another of his race came into the room, bringing with him a metal table with wheels at the bottom.

The table had on it a variety of different tools neatly arranged next to each other. Some of them were pointy, some sharp and others featured both characteristics. Few of them even had a curved end while others had small sharp protrusions extending from their main body.

After he placed the table on the side between the ill individual and me, he left as quickly as he entered.

The staring game with my ill host continued as his hair line's twitching intensified. After a few native moments, another person entered inside.

He wore some kind of leather piece above his thin attire which covered his whole torso and legs until his knees. It also had straps around his neck and waist, keeping it tight fitted to his body. His exposed skin was riddled with scars of different sizes, made by cuts, burns and punctures.

Contrary to the last one who entered and left, this one didn't carry with him anything. He walked behind the metal table and waited. That was when my ill host began speaking to me.

Of course, I wasn't familiar with his race's language and couldn't understand him, but I still listened carefully to show that he had my undivided attention. This cultural exchange between a host and a guest required the participation of both sides, for it to be carried out successfully.

I was concentrating on his gibberish tongue when at some point he started walking in short strides around me. Still watching straight at his visual organs to not avoid contact and show disrespect, I followed his path as he moved to my right side and back, turning my head the other way to resume following him from my left.

His twitching still prominent, he carried on speaking to me, stopping every now often to produce short sentences which were followed by a moment of silence, only for him to continue his dual speaking and walking again.

When I was beginning to feel slightly worried about my host's health - the twitching got so much worse and his color got redder by the native second - potentially losing my opportunity to experience this place's hospitality, he abruptly stopped in front of me and closed his mouth.

The next words he uttered were directed at the scarred individual as he turned towards him. I don't know what was communicated between the two, but I could immediately see the results of it.

The scarred one nodded to the ill one and took from the table a tool with a sharp curved side. He walked and positioned himself before me.

'Oh!' I thought. 'Finally, the entertainment will begin'.

Seeing him holding the tool and obviously getting in position to act, I believed he was about to start a performance of some sort. I was so excited to witness up close something like this, I almost took out my Archive Log to record it in detail. Fortunately, I was glad I restrained myself from doing so, because my action might have distracted him and would have ruined the moment.

With my anticipation closely rising passed my limits, the scarred one moved. He brought the sharp edge of the tool to my skin, right between my neck and shoulder, and with a sudden wave of his hand he slid it across it full of passion.

To be frank, my first impression after this short display was pure disappointment. I don't know what I was supposed to feel from his performance, but the only thing I felt was the slight breeze he caused from waving his hand. Anything else was below average in my opinion.

The only notable part to find solace in was the impressive expressions on the scarred and ill one's faces. They were frozen stiff with their mouth agape.

Their next actions prompted me to speculate that the first performance wasn't successful and that's why they were so surprised.

The ill one shouted to the scarred one, and the scarred one answered back while turning his head right and left. Their conversation went on for a while. When they were done, he moved to the table and took a pointy tool to use.

Still dedicated to experiencing the entertainment part of the hospitality, I watched as the scarred one began his performance a second time.

He brought the pointy tool as high as he could, and with obvious effort on his part, he brought it back down with force towards my right leg. The tool touched my leg and stayed there, making contact with my skin, unmoving.

The scarred one's hand started quivering as he watched his tool and me in quick succession. His mouth, like the ill one's were once again agape. They were probably wondering why even their second time trying, their attempt to entertain remained unsuccessful.

If even they didn't have faith in their abilities and their skill was so low, what's the point of me expecting much from them.

Clearly disappointed in their inability to entertain well, I simply sat there uninterested, as they kept yelling and trembling amongst each other, both trying all the tools in their possession in a hopeless attempt to succeed and attract my attention again.