"They glued it back together?" Probity asked.
"I wouldn't bet on it," Wong said in a strained voice.
"Reproduced it? They wouldn't have time," Fenton insisted.
"What are you thinking then?" Probity demanded.
"I'd rather not say. I tell you what. I'll write it down and put it in my shirt pocket here. I may or may not show it to you later. I'll think on it."
"Fine, we don't have enough mysteries." He obviously thought Wong was being overly dramatic but wouldn't say so to his superior officer. Wong scribbled and tucked the note in his breast pocket.
The trouble soon became apparent. The aliens didn't intend to withdraw. At least not completely. They backed off toward their hatch a bit and then stood waiting.
"It looks like we are being invited to trust them," Captain Fenton observed.
"As you said, we're really all at their mercy even sealed up, so why not?" Summer asked.
"Mr. Wong, tell your men to collect the wire for Mr. Lee and get the plates and vase. Mr. Hokkaido, since you are so willing to trust them would you to put out two more blankets in trade? If they are so valuable surely three won't saturate the market."
"Yes, thank you sir, I'm delighted to get a close look at them," Summer said.
"Well, despite your enthusiasm, I don't suggest you try to shake tentacles with them or get too personal," Captain Fenton cautioned him. "But you are welcome."
* * *
Believe me, Lee. A pocket full of the smaller coins will probably buy anything you see today," Talker insisted. "You don't have to carry that heavy bag around. If you find anything that won't buy I'll tell them to bill it to me," Talker offered.
"You guys use credit?" Lee asked suspiciously.
"Look at my father's estate. Do you really think any merchant in town doesn't know us?"
"Yeah, I guess that was silly. So what do Badgers do for art? Is there a place in town that sells jewelry or paintings? Maybe something crafty stuff like baskets or wood carvings?"
"How can you tell art from craft?" Talker asked her, perplexed.
"That's easy. Gordon told me art is always a lot more expensive."
* * *
Summer had two blankets, only about six kilogram which was nothing in this gravity but the bulk made it awkward. He didn't have as much low G experience as the two others sent out and walking with his arms around a big bundle didn't help his balance.
He laid them down in line with the other offerings. The other two crewmen came back out with him but held back from approaching the aliens all at once, fearing it might look too aggressive. He laid them in line with the book and considered it thoughtfully. On an impulse he leaned over and turned the book to the end sheets. He had a soft tip ink pen in his pocket and wrote. "Presented for trade on the Occasion of Humans and Derf meeting the first alien race of radically different form. Aboard their vessel. Fargone year of landing one hundred twelve. – Summer Hokkaido – and repeated his name in Japanese characters – Systems Specialist aboard The Champion William, Deep Space Explorer in the private expedition of discovery known as The Little Fleet."
Except for the Kanji characters of his name it was in a beautiful flowing English script. He capped the pen and left it on the open book. When he looked up the shorter alien had approached, not really close, but close enough to get a shot with the camera held over his head again. Summer was surprised, not so badly he jumped, but it threw him off stride and not knowing what else to do he bowed to the alien before retreating.
The alien stood his ground, even when the other two crew came forward and removed the alien offerings. After all three Humans retreated one of the longer aliens came forward and examined the book with renewed interest. He took the pen in a finer tentacle, trying different grips on it. Finally he held it with two tentacles wound around it five or six loops but in opposite directions. He'd seen Summer take the cap off and replace it but seemed to struggle a bit to do it himself. He first brought the pen close, perhaps to smell it, then drew a line on the surface of the hanger deck. That resulted in much hooting, screeching and waving of the facial tentacles and radio traffic.
"Come on back in," Captain Fenton instructed them. "I think it'll take them awhile to respond." Indeed the aliens removed themselves too.
When Summer returned he had some news. "Captain, when that fellow with the camera got a bit closer I smelled an odor of ammonia about him."
"That's interesting. Unless they can hold their breath like a whale they seem to breath the same stuff as we do without needing any masks or pressure equipment. Ammonia may be one of their metabolic products but I think the Biters assumed too much to think they breath it."
"If they excrete it maybe the Biters shot up the crapper or their recycling equipment," Wong speculated. "I don't see how they could have been holding their breath unless they speak with something like a diaphragm instead of like all the rest of us do."
"We should go off shift and let the 'B' crew wake us up if anything happens," Fenton said. "I'm scared I'll miss something though. Anybody who needs to can go off shift," he offered. Nobody took him up on it.
* * *
There didn't seem to be any organization in the open market at all. They didn't put all the food dealers or truck farmers together. Lee observed that food grilled on a stick seemed to be universally obvious to everybody whatever they called it. The Badger selling that was doing a brisk business. Right next to it was a stall selling plants and roots. Vegetables to eat Lee assumed. Then a buyer was offered a sample slice of some sort of red root while she watched, so yes... it was food.
There were stalls with shoes and hand tools, small electronics and functional pottery with a pretty blue glaze. She figured out after a bit that a lot of the household goods were used. They saw simple handmade baskets meant to be functional not art and similarly utilitarian rugs. After one quick circuit of the outdoor market in the heat of the day Lee was ready to see some fancier goods in the shade.
"Is there somewhere we can sit a bit and drink some water?" she asked Talker.
"There is a restaurant with shaded tables across the road from the market," he informed her. "Come, we'll take a break there. I'm ready to stop marching around too." He took her hand and led her, even though it was crowded. They had to squeeze through the crowd but he held on tight.
Talker bought an iced fruit drink and Lee stayed safe with plain ice water. "Do the other races in your star group all drink cold things?" Lee wondered.
"I know Bills do." He stopped and thought hard. "I've been to a dinner with Sasquatches and Cats but I never paid any attention to what they drank. I don't know. The owner of the restaurant would likely know better than me. Do you want to ask for him to come talk to us?"
"No, it was just idle curiosity."
"You didn't buy anything in the market," he said. But there was a question implied.
" I guess Badgers don't go in for over decorated folksy stuff. I was looking for something like a bowl that had carving or painted decorations. Maybe a small rug to perk up a ship's cabin with bright colors and patterns. People seem to be content with very plain things."
"Most people... Badgers that is, don't like things busy to the eye. The ones you call Cats do."
"Search in the partial web we gave you for folk art and then just ask for images. There should be something there to give you an idea what I expected."
"Nooo... We don't have anything at all like this, uh, stuff. What is this?" he asked, showing her an image on his hand pad.
"It's a lamp but encrusted with sea shells, the exoskeletons of marine creatures, for decoration."
"And this?" he asked of another picture.
"It's just a plain wood table, but carved and painted bright colors." It had lines and rosettes of triangular chip carving but filled in with bright gold and white paint below a purple face.
"It's so busy with unneeded things the eye doesn't see the basic form," he complained.
"OK, I admit I wasn't v
ery observant. Looking at all the people across the street, I don't see anybody in polka dots or plaid. I guess a Hawaiian shirt would be unthinkable."
"I see polka dots and plaid," he said shuddering at the web images, "but Hawaiian doesn't return anything but an article about an island and language. We don't have most of your English web yet."
"Look under Aloha shirt," Lee suggested.
Talker blew green juice out his snout and hastily covered it with a napkin. After blowing his nose he shook his head in the learned Human gesture and barked a phrase in Badger.
"That is the same thing Amiable said!"
* * *
"Hey, they finally made up their mind," Probity said.
Wong started a bit and looked embarrassed. He might have drifted off which was bad form on the bridge but they had sat a double shift.
The aliens filed in and deposited a small amount of silver in front of the book, carefully lifted the pen to the side and sat another roll of gold wire in front of it. The blankets received two different items. One looked suspiciously like a pair of small tablet computers, the other was difficult to guess it's function. It was a squat cylinder of substantial size with some protrusions. Flat black on the outside with a wide funnel on top. It sat on three squat legs that flared out a bit with a flat plate on the end of each. Leaning against it was a clear plastic sack with a sliding seal on top. That wouldn't have looked out of place in a Human kitchen to store vegetables or keep something like shoes on your closet shelf. What was odd was that it seemed to be full of dirt.
The aliens again retreated slightly but didn't leave the hanger.
"It's kind of hard to judge what the value of manufactured goods is when we don't have a clue what they do," Wong groused.
"They know what our tech level is, way below theirs I'm sorry to say. Anything we get from them will be a potential bonanza if we can reverse engineer it. I'm willing to trust it will be useful."
"You really think we're that far behind? Probity asked.
"If you gave somebody in Rome a hand comp would they even be able to figure out how to charge it when it ran down? Much less take it apart and figure out how any part of it worked?" Fenton asked.
"No, not Rome, maybe shortly after the First Atomic War," Wong agreed. If they didn't destroy it with static. They might still have it figured out from the dead pieces in a decade or two."
"I'm disposed to trust them. If we can't figure it out what have we lost? Two bunk blankets."
"Sir, if I might suggest something?" Summer asked.
"Please, speak freely Mr. Hokkaido."
"My junior spouse is from a French subculture in North America. They have a lovely custom when doing business of giving a little something extra to the customer. If you had groceries delivered for the week the grocer might put a box of salt in with what you ordered for free. If you sent your shoes to be repaired the cobbler might put new laces in them without charge. They called it a lagniappe. I think it builds good will."
"A lovely custom, but what would you leave them, another blanket?" Fenton asked.
"No, that would be too grand. It's a little gesture. I saw how much they valued the pen. I have a box of colored markers I brought along thinking I'd do some drawing. I haven't used them so I doubt I will. If I do get the bug I still have some pencils. I think if the pen thrilled them they'd just love the markers."
"Very well. How will you convey to them it's a gift?"
"Just by sitting them well away from the trading area towards them. If they don't understand and set something out in trade just leave it."
"Sounds reasonable. If you'd fetch them please we'll send them out with the fellows to collect the trade. No need to send you out again, unless you have some need?"
"No, I'm happy with my one excursion. Thank you for that, sir."
"Certainly. You might take your gift directly to the lock. They'll be waiting for you," he urged.
* * *
"This is more what I had in mind," Lee admitted.
The shop they were in was a short stroll down the street from where they sat and cooled off. On the shady side of the street now, with the sun going down. It was a jeweler's and more. There were artistic household objects but she could see now how they favored subtle decoration instead of bold.
There was a wide bowl of fine silver very plain from across the room but up close it was peened with larger coarse hammer marks at the bottom seven or eight millimeters across and slowly getting finer and shallower toward the rim until they were barely visible cupped marks a scant millimeter across just before the rim was rolled and beaded.
"This is beautiful," Lee said, admiring it. "But too large to pack away in my cabin."
"I'd think having such a majority ownership if you wanted something stowed in the ship's general storage nobody would argue with you," Talker said surprised.
"I'm sure I could," Lee agreed. "I'm already getting heavy shares. But everybody knew that going in. If I start adding on perks and special treatment somebody is going to resent it. That's why everybody eats the same food and got the same mass allowances regardless of rank or investment. When we found a rich source of platinum everybody got a souvenir chunk like I gave you, all the same. If I really, really had to have it I'd find room. Even if I had to pack it in with my clothing. Maybe when I build a home I'll start collecting things like this. But right now I'll find something smaller."
"These are very well done," Talker said. It was spoon and knife sets for the table with some larger serving pieces. The handles were of some green stone. Lee noticed Badgers don't use forks at the table and had commented on it at dinner. Talker had replied drolly that they were well aware of forks and their utility, but Gordon had warned Talker he'd had to disarm Lee on occasion when she used her fork to express her dissent, so they'd hidden them all. If she wasn't afraid to stick a fork in a Derf what chance did he stand? He'd asked. It was a true story but that was long ago. Well, a couple years. She wondered what other embarrassing stories Gordon had shared. Talker was lying, they really didn't use forks at each place setting, but he thought it hilarious to tease her with the story.
"Ohhh! Look at that big serving fork," Lee said with theatrical glee.
"Stand back! That thing is lethal," he said, shouldering in between her and the display. The poor shopkeeper didn't know what to make of them acting so strangely, perplexed.
"Coward... " she muttered.
"Sir, the table utensils are very fine. Would you have a set for thirty two with a double set of the serving utensils sent to Safe Haven and bill the house manager?"
"I'll see that it beats you home," the shopkeeper promised.
"Look at this," Lee said from where she'd wondered ahead. There was a sort of a bust of black stone, but it was just a display for the necklace hung on it. It was a chain but the links were some sort of sea creatures. They curved as if jumping opposite directions nose to tail forming opposite sides of each oval link. They weren't detailed to be realistic but rather had a bit of a cartoonish look.
"Are there real fish that look like this?" Lee wondered.
"Yes, and very good to eat too. But this is a simplified representation. I'm afraid they have adapted too well to the local environment. They'd push out the native fish if we didn't control them. Fortunately they must come up rivers to spawn, so we can limit the number allowed back to the sea."
"Of what is it made?" Lee wondered.
"Ma'am, the alloy is five parts of gold to one part of copper," the storekeeper supplied.
"This is what I want to take for a souvenir," Lee decided. "It won't have any bad memories attached like the one I gave your daughter and it's lovely work."
"It may hold some bad memories after you pay for it," Talker warned. "This fellow is famous and gets three times the weight of the metal for his craftsmanship."
"As he should. It's beautiful."
"Very well. Sir, would you send the necklace along with the tableware? I told the young woman I'd put her things
on my accounts if so she found items beyond what money she carried."
"To Safe Haven?" the man asked.
"Yes, she's our house guest and attached to the family. It will find her," he assured him.
Lee considered asking to just wear it. That hadn't worked so well for her in the past so she dropped the idea.
"Certainly," he agreed and gave a little bow. Lee had to restrain herself from returning it. She suspected that would irritate Talker.
* * *
The things the aliens left in trade were bulky and they had no idea what the large piece weighed. It was a low G environment but it still could be awkward to carry a large mass. They took a little wheeled wagon to collect them, of which they had several aboard. They were common to use in surface camps exploring. Wong worried it would look primitive next to their flouting lifts, but they were primitive relative to the aliens technology.
"It sort of looks like pictures I've seen of an old pot-bellied stove," Probity said of the one alien item offered for a blanket.
Once the wagon was loaded one man headed back to the ship with it. He locked the handle and pushed it ahead of him. It was easier to get traction that way in the low G. The other man took Summer's gift toward the aliens slowly. When they reacted a little he stopped.
"Did you see that? When they started getting uncomfortable they all stepped closer to each other," Captain Fenton said, watching it on screen.
"Herd behavior," Summer surmised.
The crewman tossed the package gently toward the aliens so it landed halfway between them. The shorter one came forward and ran fine tentacles over the package without picking it up. There was a bit a hooting and a short burst of radio. The crewman made a gesture with both hand palm out and shoved them away from him as he backed up.
"Good try," Fenton acknowledged, "But I'm not sure they'll understand. They don't have hands."
However when the crewman turned and hurried after his partner that made up their mind. After a few hoots and a screech the shorter alien grabbed the package of markers and hurried after the others who were already headed for the exit.
Family Law 2: The Long Voyage of the Little Fleet Page 40