Shaman (5 page)

“I didn't lay a hand on him, I promise. There was some hullabaloo going on in the village commons—a lot of party preparations and what not. Vlad just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and got rapped by a piece of flying timber. They were trying to hoist this little tower affair for the fireworks tonight and he just got in the way.” He grimaced and flapped the bloodied bit of cape. “I guess I was sort of in the wrong place at the wrong time, too.”

“Was he badly hurt?” asked Danetta.

“Well, it got him in the mouth. May have chipped a tooth. Pa-Lili insisted on taking care of it, so he's in good hands... whether he knows it or not.” He studied the stain for a moment, then grinned. “And there he stood, thirsting for my blood. Van Helsing lives.” He disappeared in the direction of the cabins, humming a tune.

Danetta Price stared after him, a bemused expression on her face. “Is it my imagination, or has his brogue gotten thicker since you left?”

“It sort of thins and thickens,” said Yoshi. “The better he feels, the thicker it gets.”

“You can say that again,” muttered Rick.

o0o

“So, it seemed to me that the best way of besting Zarber was to negotiate with the Pa-Kai on their own terms. If they believe a Chieftain and a Shaman must both be present to negotiate a deal, then we provide a Shaman and a Chieftain as they know them. And we bring them a real Chieftain, not a mock up.”

Danetta nodded. “Which is what Zarber is giving them, I take it. I happen to know that William Benz is on his way to Earth even as we speak. He's going to be taking a nice little transit nap for the next couple of weeks.”

“He's hand-picked one of his tall, dignified, male acolytes to play the part,” said Rhys. “The young gentleman has been spreading his dignified presence around the Pa-Kai villages for the past three days, schmoozing with the other Chieftains. Meanwhile, in the absence of our own Chieftain, we have been keeping company with the Shaman and her associates.”

“Who dress like this?” Danetta lifted the freshly laundered hem of Rhys's cape.

“Exactly.”

“Dare I hope that Chieftains do not also dress like this?” Her hazel eyes were imploring.

“Oh, the Chieftains are a much drabber lot,” Rhys assured her. “They seldom wear more than two shades from opposite color groups at the same time and their crest adornments are much more—ah...”

“Understated?” suggested Rick.

“Well, they're not fluorescent and they generally hang down the back as opposed to sticking out in all directions.”

Danetta raised her eyes to Rhys's head. “I'm delighted to hear that.”

o0o

They arrived at the evening's banquet just at sunset, when the torches and fires in the tribal commons were beginning to compete with the Pa-Loana sun for brilliance. Except for her very un-Pa-Kai features, Danetta Price looked the epitome of Pa-Kai Chieftain-hood. The robes she wore over a bright burgundy unisuit were Pa-Kai originals, procured from a village merchant who catered to the fashion whims of Chief and Shaman alike. It was, he assured them, the latest in royal garb, and drew their attention to the way the head gear draped a vivid azure tail over the shoulder of the deep amber robe.

“I'm a regular work of art,” murmured Danetta as she and Rhys marched side-by-side into the Pa-Kai village. Behind them, arrayed in shamanistic splendor, walked Rick and Yoshi, while bringing up the rear was a borrowed steward from one of the shuttles, carrying the Tanaka banner on its tall pole.

“Wait till you see the other Chieftains,” said Rhys. “Believe me, you'll fit right in.”

She did that, creating quite a stir among the Pa-Kai as they gathered to greet her and admire her finery. Rhys, meanwhile, kept his eyes open for the Bristol-Benz party. He couldn't have missed them if he'd kept them closed. As the horns blew, announcing the arrival of the Pa-Kai Eldest, the Bristol-Benz “Chieftain” arrived at the entrance to the tribal commons, carried on a pallet by four crewmen, each hefting a lit torch. The Eldest's pallet reached the same spot at the same moment. For a second, the two passengers stared at each other, then Zarber's ringer made a cool, sweeping gesture for the Eldest to precede him.

Rhys watched Pa-Lili closely, catching the telltale shake of her head and the sour face she made. He smiled and relaxed. Trust Zarber to overplay a scene.

When Danetta had mounted her own tastefully decorated pallet and everyone was seated about the huge central bonfire, two things stood out in plain relief—one was the elevated pallet of the Pa-Kai Eldest and the other was the equally elevated pallet of the Bristol-Benz impostor. For a second time, the two Chieftains looked at each other—one cool, the other at least seeming to be.

Rhys glanced over at Zarber, who, in an obvious effort to play Rhys at what he believed was his own game, had affected a bright red sash and matching beret for the occasion. Zarber gazed back, an impossibly smug, albeit dignified, expression on his bruised and lacerated face. He smiled, displaying a black hole where once an incisor had been.

The Pa-Kai Eldest spoke. “Tell me, O Chieftain Benz,” he said, “When did you develop this infirmity?”

The other “Chief” blinked and glanced down at his “Shaman.” Zarber shook his head, still watching the Pa-Kai for some clue.

“Pardon, O Eldest One,” said the impostor coolly. “Your meaning flies by me.”

“You are carried here on a tray. I ask what infirmity you have sustained since earlier today which causes this?”

Rhys had to admire the way Zarber slipped smoothly into the awkward silence. “My Chieftain was so distressed upon hearing of my own accident earlier that he attempted to hurry to my aid. He slipped on the entry ramp of our ship and fell, spraining his foot.” He finished the narration with a face that said, “How noble is my Chieftain. How humble am I.”

Rhys wanted to guffaw. The only thing that kept him from doing so was his native sense of courtesy... .and the fact that Zarber's quick thinking had retrieved Bristol-Benz from what should have been an embarrassing situation. Hell, he'd done better than retrieve it. “Chieftain Benz” now looked like a sensitive, noble being and one hell of a nice guy—in Pa-Kai terms, a hero. Zarber's dignified bearing had finally made a favorable impression—it made him seem humble in a twisted sort of way.

Rhys glanced around at the solicitous expressions on the mobile Pa-Kai faces. Their sympathy was neither disguised nor feigned. The Eldest leaned toward the injured stalwart and engaged him in private conversation, the gist of which was lost on Rhys, who could only hear the fluting trills at the ends of certain phrases. Zarber was nearly grinning.

Rhys gritted his teeth. Maybe that old adage was true; maybe nice guys really did finish last. Maybe he should learn to play people like Zarber by their own rules.

He barely noticed the food being served, but sat pondering his next move until he felt someone nudge his ribs. It was Danetta Price.

“Hello there,” she said, peering at him inquiringly. “Where have you been?”

He smiled ruefully. “Just wool-gathering.”

“Wool... what?”

“An old rural expression. Star-gazing.”

“Ah. So, Prof, tell me what's my next move? How do I pry the Eldest away from ‘Chief Benz?'”

“I'm not sure. I... Danetta, will you tell me something?”

“If I can. What?”

“Zarber made a comment the other day about you preferring a Professor of Anthropology over a Doctor of Biz-Psych. Any idea what he meant?”

She nodded. “Sure. It's no particular secret. Zarber was one of the applicants for your job. We hired you—he went on to B-B.”

Rhys was stunned. “You hired me?”

Danetta eyed him humorously. “I do imprint your pay account, don't I?”

“But, why me instead of Zarber? He already had a reputation as a crack negotiator.”

“Yes, he did. On Earth and in the colonies and among the few cultures we've connected with that were, shall we say, of the same mind about business. But he had no experience with non-urban cultures. Not even the ones on Earth. This man thinks a peace pipe is an odd bit of scrap metal. If someone handed him one, he'd probably put the wrong end in his mouth. He knows Human psychology and only the narrow band-width that applies to business, at that. And in my experience, it's not the urban society that has the most valuable resources to offer. I can handle the deals with urban cultures myself—in fact, I like doing it. What I needed was someone who could deal with divergent cultures in their own language and in their own element. You can do that. It seems to come naturally to you.” She waved the blue tail that hung over her left shoulder. “Do you think Zarber would have thought of adapting to Pa-Kai culture like this without your lead?”

Rhys shook his head.

Danetta smiled. “I know you have trouble understanding Twenty-third century Urban Man, but you're bloody good divining what makes someone like your friend Pa-Lili tick. Am I right?”

“I hope so,” said Rhys. He sounded dubious, but realized he felt much better about the whole situation. “Then you don't mind this rigmarole?” He gestured at their combined adornment.

“Mind? This is a vacation, Rhys. Besides, how often does a woman in my position get to dress up like this?... Now, how do I get the Eldest's attention?”

Rhys eyed the Pa-Kai leader. “Wait for a break in conversation, then compliment him on the feast and the colors of his dress. End your leading sentence with praises like: Most Elegant One, Most Vibrant One. Refer to the color of his dress a lot. How varied the hues, how vivid. Then, apologize for being here four days late and explain that you had Clan business that had to be taken care of. They set great store by conscientious leadership. You have an advantage in that you're female. The Pa-Kai believe females make the best leaders because they have a natural tendency toward nurture and cooperation.”

“Really?” Danetta glanced up at the B-B surrogate CEO. “Then why would Zarber choose a male Chief? He has quite a few female staff members.”

“But they're all in subordinate roles. Besides, he probably accepted the obvious evidence that the Eldest was a male. I have it on good authority that that's a fairly rare occurrence. The last Eldest was female. About sixty percent of the other Chieftains are female and so are a majority of the Shaman.”

Danetta nodded. “How important is the Shaman?”

“A lot more important that Zarber seems to think... I hope.”

“Could he be right? Is approaching the Eldest ‘man to man,' as it were, a good tactic?”

“He could be right. My intuition says not, but—” He shrugged. “Even if this Eldest feels personally more comfortable negotiating with another male, he'll be more respectful of a female. Maybe even a little in awe of her.”

“Ah. Six of one, half-dozen of the other. I could be an advantage or a break-even... or a disadvantage.”

“I doubt that. For one thing you're older than Zarber's assistant.”

Danetta grimaced. “You had to remind me.”

“No, no. I mean, that's a real advantage. An older Chief is a more experienced Chief—a more colorful Chief. That's why the oldest Clan Chieftain is automatically made the Tribal leader.”

“Can they tell an older Human from a younger one?”

“I don't know.”

Danetta turned back to observe the subjects under discussion. “Okay. Let's see how I do with the great Chief,” she said, and waited for a break in the conversation between Chieftain and charlatan.

She did fine, all things considered, but the Eldest seemed more threatened by the Tanaka CEO than he did awed by her. Since the Chieftain in line to take his position if his health failed was a middle-aged matron of the Lupao Clan, that was understandable. He was obviously more comfortable with the youth and inexperience of Zarber's Chieflet. Rhys suspected it was because he could treat him with fatherly condescension.

It didn't help that Shaman Zarber dropped not-so-subtle hints throughout the feast that Rhys had somehow been responsible for his mishap earlier in the day. He implied that the rivalry between them was more than just simple competition over a contract (Rhys now knew the truth of that). His insinuations brought to Rhys's mind a vivid picture of two ancient tribal Magi, slinging curses and lightning bolts at each other through all eternity. It was like something out of one of those holographic role-playing games that seemed to be the constant rage among teenagers.

The Eldest seemed impressed with Zarber's macabre little remarks, but Pa-Lili was openly disdainful. “This Shaman Tsar-Bar is a rude fellow,” she said, echoing Yoshi's sentiments. “Such slithering accusations are beneath a Shaman's breath. What sort of training did he receive? What feathers has he earned?”

“Well, actually,” said Rhys, “he has, er, earned feathers in, ah, Business Thinking and the Speaking of Diplomacy.”

“Business?” tooted Pa-Lili. “What does a Shaman have to do with business? A Shaman is a caretaker, a preserver. It is a shame my Eldest is so taken with their freshly hatched Chieftain. But the Old One loves those he can impress. Your Chief Tanaka is too impressive to be impressed... Perhaps you should lay a curse on this Shaman, since he seems to believe you already have.” She gave Rhys a hard look.

He shook his head, making his crest of orange fingers bounce and wave. “I couldn't do that.”

“You have the means,” she pressed, her gaze becoming conspiratorial.

He wondered if he was being tested. “Perhaps I do, but it would be... a great sin.”

Pa-Lili nodded. “True, it is not good to wish others ill. But it is an equally great sin to lie.” She looked pointedly at Zarber. “You had nothing to do with his toothlessness.”

No
, Rhys thought,
I didn't. But if an accident pulled one fang, I sure wish I could pull the other.