Shaman (7 page)

“Worlds like Pa-Loana?”

Danetta smiled. “Some like, some unlike. But I must say, I've never met a people quite as colorful as yours.”

The Eldest's crest rose proudly. “And do you also offer us Great Wealth, as does Chieftain Benz?”

“We are prepared to offer whatever we agree between us is a fair exchange of goods and services.” She paused, then said, “I'm almost certain that what we regard as great wealth would seem trivial or foolish to such wise beings as the Pa-Kai.”

Rhys heard Zarber chortle under his breath. No matter, the Eldest was pleased by the comment, as the slight bobbing of his crest clearly indicated. Zarber could chuckle all he wanted.

Bring on the baubles
, thought Rhys.
Bring out your dark magics and your thunderings and your spirit bag of gizmos. I'm ready for you, Mordred... I hope.

The negotiations began in earnest then, with Bristol-Benz being accorded the first volley. At the arch nod of his pseudo-Chief, Zarber laid out a veritable
hors d'oeuvres
tray of exotic foods and goods from all over the known Galaxy. The Pa-Kai tootled questions about this and that and nodded and made various faces of surprise and excitement and curiosity.

It was then Tanaka's turn. Danetta made a sweeping gesture to Rhys, but her eyes were on the Eldest and a wide, gracious smile played across her lips. Rhys then made his offer: such products of foon as the Pa-Kai desired would be available to the Pa-Kai merchants in perpetuity. As long as there was foon, they could have the product of foon.

Zarber stared at Rhys, dumfounded. Then he smiled (nearly grinned). “Is that all?” he asked regally.

“That is our opening offer,” said Rhys. “You may make a counter-offer if you wish.”

“I doubt that will be necessary.” Zarber turned to Pa-Lili. “Do you wish to hear a counter-offer?”

“Do you wish to have the foon?”

Zarber turned a lovely shade of crimson. “I meant only, is there a need? We are offering so much more—”

“Yes, so it would seem. Let us hear your counter-offer.”

Zarber nodded as if he had just seen a pattern emerging from a broken piece of ancient pottery. “Of course,” he said, and proceeded to replace the hors d'oeuvres tray with a smorgasbord of exotic items, entertainments, and technologies. Enough junk to put the Pa-Kai through what would make the sufferings of Earth's aboriginal peoples at the hands of their more “civilized” brethren look like a kiddie story.

Rhys gritted his teeth and felt grey and husk-like as he watched the Pa-Kai react to the descriptions of this entertainment or that technology like children hearing their first news of a carnival. With their simple way of life, it must all sound like the play of gods, he thought. Ground cars and trundle-buggies, synthovens the size of a melon that brought forth an amazing variety of hot, ready-to-eat food, discams the size of a cup with which you could take three dimensional images of your loved ones (why bother going to the Clan artists for portraits?).

Yessir
, thought Rhys,
there's enough in that offer to devastate the environment, destabilize the economy and completely undermine the balance of power among the Pa-Kai forever and ever, amen.
Not to mention what it would mean to the other peoples of Pa-Loana to have such suddenly wealthy neighbors.

It took everything he had to generate the enthusiasm he had once felt for his own counter-counter. He smiled, he made his gestures big and broad and encompassing, he even twirled and capered as he offered the Pa-Kai one technology: the simplest, most basic method of refining foon and using it to produce the products of their choice for themselves and for barter to other peoples.

“You could then,” he explained to the assembled Pa-Kai, “even sell the refined foon—the slatex—to the Tanaka Clan, as well as the raw stuff. You might be able, someday, to barter the finished goods for sale on other worlds. You might even, someday, be able to receive the goods those worlds had to offer.”

The Pa-Kai nodded and hooted and cooed, but they showed none of the child-like excitement they had evinced over Zarber's offer. While the Tribal Council considered the offers in the privacy of their voluminous tent, Rhys stood outside in Pa-Loana's fresh, fragrance and felt something roughly the size and shape of the proverbial millstone settle in the pit of his stomach. He looked up at the pale, violet-blue sky overhead (and through it and past it) and thought,
Was it too much to ask that today White Magic might win one? Was it too much to hope that the spirits of the Pa-Kai would be stronger than the technologies of the Human?

He heard an abrasive sound behind him and cringed.

“Foon-derived products in perpetuity?” chuckled Zarber. “Really, Llewellyn. What do you take these people for? They may be simple-minded, but they're not fools. I'm offering them tomorrow and you're bargaining with nuts and berries.”

“But whose tomorrow are you offering them, Zarber—theirs or ours?”

“Ah, that must be the philosopher in you speaking... or perhaps the theologian—more concerned with musty ideologies than solid realities.” He glanced across Rhys to Danetta. “An academic to the core, isn't he, Ms. Price? But then, you knew that when you hired him.” His eyes moved back to Rhys, faintly pitying. “I'm winning this one on points, Professor. If you start packing now, you can leave in time to avoid the humiliation.” He turned and strode away, his purple cape billowing behind him in the breeze.

Rhys felt Danetta's hand on his shoulder. “Don't let him get to you,” she told him. “In a situation like this I'd take your philosophy over his any day of the millennium.”

“But he's right, you know. He has won on points. The Pa-Kai were in conniptions over his offer. I just can't, in good faith, make them that kind of a bid. It would be like giving them Pandora's box... without the user's manual.”

“I understand. Notice that I'm not pressuring you to sell them the moon... or its man-made equivalent. This is a big deal, Rhys. A very big deal. I don't like the idea that we may have to depend on Bristol-Benz for our supply of foon—super-latex, or whatever. But, well... you're the Professor.” She tucked a lock of just-going-gray and gold hair back up under her head-dress and crooked a finger at Rhys's apprentices. “Come, children. Let's get back to work. I see by Pa-Lili's urgent gestures that they're ready to start.”

The trouble with the Pa-Kai, Rhys decided, worrying his spirit bag and gazing moodily into space, was that they were so expressive. As a negotiator, he was used to sitting opposite poker faces of every description, but the Pa-Kai, with their encyclopedia of facial expressions and gestures, were quite disturbing. They were obviously a joy to Zarber, who could read his success on their faces, but for Rhys it was hard to maintain his own facade of self-confidence.

An ancestor of his might have conversed with Zarber at knife point and forced him to own his lies. But then, an ancestor of Zarber's would have simply turned into a bat and taken Rhys's ancestor out for lunch. Ah, but if Myrddin had been one of Rhys Llewellyn's forebears...

Rhys snapped to attention as the Eldest and his train entered the tent. He studied them for some encouraging sign, but saw none. Pa-Lili didn't even glance his way.

When all were seated, the Pa-Kai Shaman stood before her Chief, facing the Humans across the Council Circle. “We have pondered and come to a (pleasing to us) decision.”

“And quickly, too, I must say,” murmured Zarber, just loud enough for Rhys to hear.

“We thank the Shaman Zarber very much for his Great Wealth offer, and accept...” The violet eyes moved to Rhys's face. “...the offer of the Tanaka Eldest and her vivid Shaman.”

“What?” Zarber was, to all appearances, thrown beyond stunned into shock.

Rhys was thrown for a loop, as well. Grinning from ear to ear, he capered and twirled in quite sincere abandon, then returned to his seat, beaming at Danetta, who gave him a “thumbs up.”

“You have made us most radiant,” he said. “Your wondrous colors overwhelm us.”

Pa-Lili gestured that this was understandable, then turned to a now coolly fuming Vladimir Zarber. “Thank you for coming,” she said in musically accented Standard. “It has been interesting.”

“I don't understand!” The words burst from Zarber's mouth as if he couldn't control them. He shifted quickly back to Pa-Kai. “Our offer was vastly superior to theirs.”

“We did not see this,” returned Pa-Lili in Pa-Kai. “It was your eye problem.”

“My—? No, friend, it is
your
eye problem. The making stuff things and foods and playthings we offered are worth much more than what this — this Shaman has offered.”

“To you, perhaps. Not to the Pa-Kai.” Pa-Lili stared down her long nose at him. “Please, you may go. We have things (many) to discuss with the Tanaka Eldest and Shaman Reeslooelen.”

Zarber blinked and gaped as if Pa-Lili's words were incomprehensible to him. Behind and around him, his “Chieftain” and the rest of his team echoed the expression.

Rhys was struck with a sudden childhood memory of viewing a school of groupers through the glass window of the sea-quarium in the Earth habitat on Jamal. He burst out laughing.

Zarber ceased making fish faces and herded his entourage out of the tent.

What followed was half celebration, half negotiation. The Pa-Kai would receive catalogues of latex-derived products and the knowledge and training to help them produce products of their own and, as an added bonus, Pa-Lili requested that books on Human Shamanistic practices and magics be translated into Pa-Kai. Danetta deferred to Rhys on that point, and he cheerfully agreed to make sure the translations were done.

The negoti-bration went on into the early evening, ending only when someone noted that it was dinner time. The assemblage quickly dispersed to prepare for the evening meal.

Rhys expected that Zarber would have flown off without so much as a snarl or hiss. He was surprised to find that gentleman waiting for him as he strolled the short path to the Tanaka shuttles.

“Well, Vladimir! Is this where you thump me over the head in revenge for some imagined wrong, or where you tell me you've learned your lesson and are going to turn over a new rock?”

“Cute, Llewellyn. Very cute. But actually, you're half right. I came to congratulate you on a well-played match and to say, I suppose, that you would seem to be right—honesty is sometimes the best policy.”

Rhys was sincerely astonished. “I'm—I'm astounded, Vladimir. Thank you.”

“Hmmm.” Zarber grimaced slightly. “I hate to admit it, but I learned something from you this week.”

“Oh?”

“I learned that you can't judge a culture by its trappings. These Pa-Kai were... not what I expected them to be.”

“Simple, but greedy and easily bowled over by Human technology?”

“Something like that. I have to admit, your line of expertise can be quite useful... given the right set of circumstances, of course.”

“Of course... Does this mean you're planning to study Cultural Anthropology?”

“Good God, no!” If Zarber's nose had wrinkled any more, Rhys was sure it would have shattered. “It means I'm going to confine myself to dealing with Benz's more... sophisticated prospects.”

“Oh. Keeping out of my way, then?”

“Don't flatter yourself too much, Llewellyn. This is just not my
métier
—dressing up like a Circus clown's nightmare, cavorting about and flapping my arms like some idiot fowl. I felt like an utter fool.”

Rhys laughed. He laughed so hard he couldn't muster breath to tell Zarber it was his wild description of his very decorous behavior and not his humiliation that was so amusing. He grabbed Zarber's hand and pumped it, finally choking out, “Believe me, Vladimir, it looked like you never broke out of a Waltz.”

o0o

Several days later, as the remaining Tanaka shuttle prepared to take flight on a return voyage, Rhys made a point of giving his private farewells to Pa-Lili.

“I have to ask you,” Rhys said tentatively, “why you chose our offer over Bristol-Benz's. What they were bargaining with really was worth more.”

“Not to us, Reeslooelen. This is not (your) Homeworld, nor is it Planet of Human Origin, nor is it any other planet of your acquaintance. You know this. And as your Chieftain rightly expected, we were not impressed with Clan Benz's many making-stuff things or their playthings or their food stuff. Their food stuff would make Pa-Kai stomachs hurt, while your growing-things package will give us foods from Pa-Loana soil. And as for his ‘tek-now-low-gis,'” she stumbled distastefully over the word, “we will not want them until we can understand them. What we wanted, you offered—the knowledge that something we thought useless is not, that it can become the most colorful of things. We will learn how to make our own colorful and useful things. This way, it will be our tek-now-low-gi.”

She made the “I am fat and content” face and gesture, folding her long hands over her stomach. She squinted her eyes at him. “We were also not impressed with Tsar-Bar's manner. His gestures—so small, so uncertain. It isn't nice to judge someone by their gestures, but...” She shrugged eloquently. “I'm only Pa-Kai, after all. He lies, you know,” she added in a confidential undertone. “He is not a Shaman. He is a sham. And so is his puppy Chieftain. The Eldest met with them privately to admonish them not to wear adult colors until they are full-grown. Such childishness!” She made a dismissive gesture.

“You knew he was lying,” Rhys marveled. “How?”

“The spirits told me. They made him give himself away with glances and disrespectful talk to his so-called Chieftain during the Trade Speaking. I distinctly saw him tell his Chieftain to shut up!” She made the throat-cutting gesture, then shrugged in that uniquely Pa-Kai way that made Rhys wonder what their bones were made of.