“And in answer to Professor Rivers’ other question, we tell them as little of our plight as possible … again, stopping short of actually lying. We want to secure as good a deal as we can, which won’t be possible if they know we’re trading from a position of weakness.”
“I guess we’re lucky to have your business expertise, Captain,” said Lorna Costa. The head technician looked tired. She wasn’t alone – gravity here was four percent greater than the Earth-standard artificial pull of the ship. That didn’t sound like much, but it was noticeable and took a steady toll.
Costa, noticing Hunter’s scrutiny, pulled herself upright in her chair. “I do have a question, though,” she went on. “What are you going to trade with?”
“That’s what we’re here to discuss. I’ve a few ideas. Firstly, we’ve a wealth of literature stored in our main computer – every book published before 2062, in fact – which I’m sure would be greatly appreciated by their scholars. We know that electronic data interchange is possible between our systems and theirs, as Annie managed it back on Mahi Mata.”
The technician flashed one of her broadest grins. “Yup, should be no problem. Only thing is, they won’t be able to read it, on account of the language barrier.”
“I shouldn’t worry about that,” Hunter replied. “Think how the linguists back home would react upon being presented with an alien library. They’d be in heaven. Learning the language is half the fun, and the Ramirans could use our own English-Matan dictionary to help them. I think the market value of the cultural reservoir we have to offer should be rather high.’ It struck her then that she really should try and acquire something similar from the Ramirans; there were still massive gaps in their knowledge of these people. Philosophy, religion, history – they’d barely scratched the surface so far.
“I hope you’re not planning a complete transfer of data,” said Rivers, her voice carrying a note of warning. “That would tell them where Earth is, among other things.”
“You see that as a problem?”
“Potentially. The Ramirans seem friendly enough so far, but it’s too soon to trust them. Plus, anything we tell them will doubtless reach the other colonies sooner or later. The Legans have already proved to be potentially hostile. Who knows about the remaining four worlds…”
“Who knows indeed? But these are advanced civilisations. They’re hardly likely to trek halfway across the galaxy for the sole purpose of enslaving us or blowing us up. You’ve been playing too much Conquest: Andromeda, Professor.”
Rivers’ face coloured slightly. She opened her mouth to argue, but Hunter raised a restraining hand. “That said,” she went on smoothly, “there’s nothing wrong with a little prudence. I don’t really want to give them the recipe for a nuclear bomb, or any of the other colourful devices humans have used to kill each other over the years. Why don’t you go through our library and prepare a suitable selection, since this seems important to you.”
“Fine.” The scientist nodded. Another of her team, Bala Abayomi, spoke next.
“What about trading our scientific and technological knowledge, Captain? We have blueprints for many devices with no martial application. While we aren’t sure of the exact level of their culture, it’s certainly possible that we are more advanced in some areas.”
“That’s not a bad idea, but,” – the captain frowned – “it’s hard to know what the ramifications will be, once you start boosting a culture’s technological levels. Might it upset the balance of power among the Matan colonies? I’m inclined not to risk it.”
“It seems that your faith in the peaceful nature of these advanced civilisations is not consistently strong,” noted Rivers. “In fact, you appear more concerned about damage to alien cultures than you are about the safety of Earth.”
“Do I really have to explain the difference to you? They’ve no motive to attack Earth, but they might have to fight each other. Local rivalries have doubtless built up over the years. There’ll be no trading of technological secrets until I’m satisfied that it will do no harm. So, we need other ideas. Actually, I was wondering whether we might trade the samples we took from Mahi Mata. These people have been exiled from their old homeworld for centuries – I’m sure the current state of the flora and fauna there would be of some interest to them.”
Barbara looked unhappy. “It would be a big loss to science – to Earth science, I mean – if we didn’t bring anything back with us. Plus, folks might think we made the whole adventure up.”
Hunter smiled. It had, in fact, occurred to her that certain groups back home might cast doubts upon the veracity of their accounts, however much evidence they brought back with them. All part of the fun of being a “feminist agitator”.
“We certainly won’t trade everything. We’ve got a storage bay stuffed full of plants and soil.”
“But few animals,” noted Bala. The captain had forbidden them to take live samples, considering it unethical to remove creatures from their native environment to satisfy human curiosity. “I suppose Ms. Grace’s spider might interest them.”
“Hey!” Annie appeared affronted. “You’re not trading Anansi – he’s an honorary crew member! Plus, he’s the only one who doesn’t run away when I read extracts from my novel…”
“Of course,” Bala continued, “there was nothing to prevent them from bringing animals with them when they were transported here. Might artefacts from Earth be of more interest? Remember, we are the first alien species they have seen. Possessions that we perceive as mundane might seem quite exotic to them.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” said Hunter. In fact, it had occurred to her weeks ago, but she had been hesitant to bring it up. Pushing one’s subordinates to give up their personal property was liable to make for an unpopular leader; she was relieved that Bala had hit upon the idea without too much obvious prompting. “We should each think about what we might be able to spare.”
“Annie brought a lot of junk with her,” said Barbara thoughtfully. “There must be something tradeable there.”
“Hey! You’re not trading my junk – I mean, my prized possessions – that I lovingly hand-picked to remind me of home.”
Hunter suspected that the young technician was at least half joking but kept a straight face as she responded.
“Reminders of home are precious, but getting home is beyond price.”
Annie flicked her orange braids theatrically. “Well, okay, but some of my stuff could be crucial to our mission.”
“Really?” queried Barbara. “And which item do you think might make the difference between life and death? The umbrella, the baseball mitt or the bikini?”
The gardener seemed close to laughing as she spoke. Hunter was relieved to see that some of the hostility seemed to have drained out of Barbara and Annie’s relationship. In fact, most of the gathering were smiling at the exchange – only Sandra Rivers, grim-faced and distant, spoiled the picture. The captain knew that she’d have to find a way to forge some new bonds with her science chief, sooner or later.
“We might get a hull breach, which can only be sealed by strategic umbrella deployment,” Annie was saying, wagging a slender finger. “We might fly through an asteroid field – then I could protect the ship by going EVA and catching the rocks in my mitt. As to the bikini … hey, we’re tourists here, ain’t we? Tourists gotta sunbathe.”
Barbara turned to the captain. “Perhaps it would be simpler if we just traded them Annie?”
“Hey!”
“I can’t really condone trading in people,” Hunter deadpanned. “Plus, I don’t think we’d get much for her…”
* * *
“Now, Anansi, tell me what you think of this. It’s another sex scene, but I’m really going for some extra kick this time. I’ll be interlacing Agnes’ lovemaking with Maud in the present with a flashback to her losing her virginity over sixty years earlier. The cutting back and forth’s gonna get quicker and quicker as we hurtle towards the twin moments of climax.”
It was night time, both inside the ship and out. Annie sat perched on her bed, thumbing through her trusty handpad. Above her, Anansi the spider sat unmoving in his web. He was facing away from Annie, but she chose to believe that he was hanging on every word.
“So, how does this line grab ya? ‘She felt a scintillating burst of pure, miasmic delight burst forth from her deepest core, coruscating through every pore like the sun rising on the Oklahoman corn fields of her youth. Reaching up, she-’”
A chime from the door.
“Come right in.”
To Annie’s surprise, it was Sandra Rivers who entered. The professor had evidently come straight from the lab; she still had her white coat on.
“Am I interrupting anything?”
“Not really. Just taking a break from sorting my things.”
Rivers looked dubiously at the three or four piles of assorted oddments heaped haphazardly on the floor.
“Yes, you’ve evidently made fantastic progress.”
“Uh-huh, just hope the captain gives me a fair cut of the profits. So…” – she appraised the curly-haired young woman curiously – “… what brings you here? Pretty sure you’ve never visited before. Feeling frisky?”
The scientist’s lips twitched in the merest hint of a smile.
“Were that the case, this would not be my destination.”
“Ouch. So, what’s on your mind?”
“Democracy.”
Rivers touched the wall panel, and the door slid shut behind her. Annie noticed for the first time that she was carrying a sheet of paper, with what looked to be handwriting scrawled on it.
“Democracy is on my mind…”
VII
… We’re about to push back the frontiers a little further.
In less than an hour, we’ll set foot on alien soil again, this time as welcome guests rather than unwitting interlopers. The captain’s given me permission to conduct extensive interviews with the natives; truly, this is the sort of journalistic opportunity I’ve dreamt of since I was a girl.
It is unfortunate, though, that once again the excitement of first contact is being dampened by other concerns.
Back on Mahi Mata, the threat of imminent destruction hung over our encounter with the Legans. There doesn’t seem to be much fear of that this time – the Ramirans have been impeccable hosts and could presumably have blasted our ship to pieces days ago if they’d wanted to – but still the tension aboard the Bona Dea is palpable.
The moment of truth is near. Can they help us bridge the expanse between here and Earth? We’ll find out today.
If not, then I can conduct as many interviews as I like, but it won’t matter. No-one back home will ever read them …
– Daniella Winters, Journal Entry #501
The air in the cavernous hangar was surprisingly cool; evidently the Ramirans possessed first-rate air conditioning. Of course, thought Hunter, that would be a priority if you were going to live here in the equatorial zone, where 40-degree temperatures were commonplace. Habadimo – which translated as “sandstorm city” – was pretty much bang on the equator.
Ramirans of all ages had turned out in force to witness the occasion. Hunter estimated that there were several thousand of them crammed into the hangar, noisily jostling for position. Studying the massed ranks, she noted that there seemed to be no sharp variations between male and female attire, nor between adult and child; baggy robes in various shades of tan or cream were ubiquitous. They looked to be made of a light material, perhaps similar to linen.
On their heads, the Ramirans wore a mixture of hoods and broad-brimmed hats, though most of those inside had taken these off. Their faces were much as those of the Legans had been: sloping foreheads, broad noses, somewhere between humans and their Neanderthal cousins. Unlike the Matans Hunter had seen so far, though, a high percentage of this group had a dark skin tone.
The captain stood before her ship and crew. From the assembled throng before her, a lone figure strode forward. He was not much taller than Hunter, but exceptionally broad in the shoulders. Even through his baggy clothing, he gave the impression of superb musculature. Skin of jet black, hair much the same colour, nearly bald but with a fine growth over his face and neck, he gave an overwhelming impression of power.
This has to be Haji, thought Hunter.
She stepped forward to meet him and performed the gesture of greeting she had learned from Chiri, the Legan captain – a single hand extended before her, palm turned down towards the rough metal floor.
Haji smiled slightly and mirrored the gesture. “I can see you’ve been spending time with Legans,” he said. “Here on Ramira, the elbow is bent and the hand held close to the body, like this.”
He demonstrated; this time it was Hunter’s turn to copy him. “Thank you,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the crowd, who were continuing to talk rather loudly amongst themselves. “I hope that’s merely the first of many lessons you teach us about your culture.”
The Grand Merchant waved both arms expansively. “Ask anything! I’ll be doing the same. First question – are there no males in your species? To my eyes, your crew all appear to be women, though you’re quite different to either of our sexes.”
“Ah. Well the story of our mission is quite an unusual one. Perhaps I can relate it while we conduct your tour of the Bona Dea…”
* * *
“A romantic tale indeed!” said Haji. “The doubted and downtrodden underclass striking out on their own to prove themselves. A shipful of Sheko, pushing the frontiers of your species…”
“Sheko?” queried Hunter. Her Matan was holding up well, but she didn’t know that word.
“A person of abnormally high intelligence. Shekobejo was our greatest thinker. I say ‘our’, but he was born on the colony of Kerin, unfortunately, and they never let the rest of us forget it. He gave us mastery of gravity, among other things; now his name is inextricably linked with the notion of genius.”
“We had a similar man: Einstein.”
The two of them were walking together through the science section. She had expected Haji to bring a small party with him, but the Grand Merchant had entered the airlock alone. Hunter had opted to take the small risk of skipping the decontamination procedures – asking a visiting dignitary to strip off and submit to a cleansing shower wasn’t the way to make a good first impression – and had already shown him the medical bay, the gym, Barbara’s garden and the Hub. Since they only had one visitor, she had ordered her crew back to their stations while she conducted the tour. Truth be told, she preferred it this way; the one-to-one time with their guest would allow her to gain his trust, while hopefully getting a feel for his personality.
Thus far, she had found him a genial companion. He had listened with interest to her descriptions of Earth, and her account of the reasons for their trip. To her slight surprise, the subject of their adventures on Mahi Mata hadn’t come up yet. Nor had the subject of trade been broached.
Haji was evidently enjoying himself. He had pronounced every detail she pointed out to be some variation of splendid or remarkable, and seemed quite sincere. This worried the captain slightly; if the Ramiran was so impressed by their technology, did that mean his world didn’t have the capacity to help with their problem? She’d find out soon enough when they reached Engineering.
“Historically, we don’t have the same trouble with gender as your species do,” said Haji, “beyond a few stereotypes regarding the perceived peak ages of the two sexes, and those were abandoned by most of the colonies at the time of their founding. However, the concept of discrimination certainly isn’t alien to us. Those of us with dark skin, being a small minority on the homeworld, were often regarded as mysterious and mystical creatures in the primitive early religions. That perception lingered, even after our scientists discovered the evolutionary causes for darker pigmentation. We were expected to be performers and entertainers, but not leaders in the fields that mattered.”
> “We have … some instances of that in our own history,” said Hunter. Best not to go into all the shameful details for the moment, she thought, or he may decide his world would be better off having nothing to do with us. I’ll let slip our failings one at a time.
Perhaps I should draw up a list …
“The exodus was a turning point for us,” Haji went on with a smile. “This planet seemed to have little to commend it, but my equatorial ancestors chose to come in their thousands. They knew they had the physical properties to thrive here where no-one else could. And, through hard work and a little luck, thrive we have! Ramira proved to be replete with subterranean oils and gases.”
“You trade with the other colonies?”
“We do; it’s made us the richest of the six, per capita. Ah, but here’s a treasure beyond material wealth…”
They had turned right and entered the broad chamber which housed their thirty massive water tanks, as well as the sprawling oxygen processing equipment. Haji stepped up to the nearest tank and placed his four stubby fingers reverentially on the clear surface.
“Water!” boomed the Ramiran. “Dwellers in the stars know its value as clearly as dwellers in the sand. I must tell you, Miriam, we’d be loath to part with any of our own reserves, so if this is what you wish to trade for…”
The water tanks, which had been refilled on Mahi Mata, were still close to full; Hunter guessed that Haji could see that but was trying to politely prompt her to reveal what she was after. A good diplomat, evidently, and he had every right to be curious.
“No, it’s not that. Let me take you on into our engineering section, where I can answer that question.”
The captain led him through an archway into the rear section of the ship, where a handful of technicians were running routine tests. After giving the Grand Merchant a quick look at the engines and thruster technology, she indicated the KSD. As planned, Annie was on hand nearby. The technician gave the Ramiran greeting gesture, and Haji returned it.
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