Shaman

by Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

  Rhys steered the conversation to the negotiations. “The key to success here is flexibility,” he said. “We need to be ready to react both to the Pa-Kai and Zarber, but not appear to be reacting to Zarber at all. The last thing we need is for this to degenerate into one-upmanship between Tanaka and Bristol-Benz. Zarber is used to dealing with people who are as wily as he is. The Pa-Kai are...”

  “Simple?” suggested Rick, munching a fruit bar.

  “No, not simple.” Rhys suspected he was wearing what Hi-Pok had called his “Teacher Face.” “You can’t assume simplicity, Roddy. I don’t even think you can make a good case for naiveté. They’re... honest. Honesty is highly regarded among the Pa-Kai. So, we have to be honest. To a fault.” He pressed the plastic table top with his fist.

  “Zarber isn’t going to be honest,” observed Rick.

  “Zarber also thinks the Pa-Kai are simple, and he’ll probably offer them trinkets and beads.”

  “Excuse me?” said Yoshi.

  “When white settlers first met the Native Americans, they assumed them to be simple savages. When the Indian held out his hand in friendship, the white man put a trinket into it. That’s pretty much been the dominant society’s track record in its inter-cultural relations ever since. When asked for friendship, we offer useless things.” Rhys shook his head. “Sorry, I’m lecturing again. Old habits die hard. Anyway, who knows? Maybe the Pa-Kai will bring out the best in old Vladimir.”

  “Huh!” snorted Rick.

  “What are we going to offer them that won’t seem like trinkets?” asked Danetta.

  “Returns on their investment. We sell them slatex products for the stuff from which slatex is made.”

  “Ah,” said Rick. “Simple and elegant. And we already know that certain colorful slatex products are very much in demand in this part of Pa-Loana.” He tweaked his own verdant green waterproof cockscomb.

  “And if Zarber offers them more?” asked Danetta.

  “We offer to show them how to manufacture their own slatex products.”

  “That would eventually make them independent of our production facilities.”

  Rhys nodded. “It might eventually even put them in competition with our production facilities... or in cooperation, which is more likely, given the Pa-Kai nature.”

  “You’re putting a lot of trust in Pa-Kai nature,” observed Danetta. “Do you think that’s wise?”

  “If I didn’t—”

  She nodded. “You wouldn’t be doing it... You seem very certain of yourself.”

  “Of myself...? I guess I am.” Rhys shrugged and sipped his coffee, wondering how long that certainty would last.

  o0o

  The Tanaka banner waved gently in the breeze that lapped at the Council Tent and spiraled around its braces. Danetta Price looked as elegant as any Human could in Pa-Kai clothing. Her Shaman and his apprentices looked smart and Shamanly and her pallet was decorated with embellishments of Tanaka manufacture: Slatex gloves for work in water, weather and zero atmosphere, a boot or two for equally extreme environs. It was a tasteful display of a tiny part of Tanaka’s product line and it was obviously of interest to the Pa-Kai. So were Pa-Lili’s new cape and unisuit, also latex derived. Rhys thought it quite auspicious that she’d worn them today.

  Just as he was beginning to relax, a trumpet sounded (at least he thought it was a trumpet) and through the wide entry came the Bristol-Benz train. And it was a train.

  The B-B “Chieftain” entered first, flanked by a smug Vladimir Zarber. The Chief was not riding his pallet, but limping courageously along with a tragic expression on his face. He was dressed every bit as elegantly as any other Chieftain in the tent, while Zarber was made up in Shamanly splendor, his black unisuit over-laid with a stole of bright fuchsia. Behind him, came the standard-bearer, waving aloft the Bristol-Benz logo—two stylized inter-locked B’s in bright red, rampant on a purple field.

  Behind the standard-bearer marched every assistant Zarber possessed and, very probably, every member of his shuttle’s flight crew. Four of them carried their Chieftain’s pallet. which was gaudily attired in every ambient color known to man.

  Rhys grimaced. Zarber was as good as his word; he was obviously prepared to play what he perceived was the Tanaka game, and to play it well—right down to making a stunning entrance. He settled into his pillows and smiled at Rhys toothily.

  “Shuttle medical unit not working,” asked Rhys sotto voce, “or are you promoting missing incisors as a new fashion trend?”

  Zarber’s sleek, black brows winged upward with bat-like grace. “Why Llewellyn, that was a slight worthy of me. The med-unit is working fine, thank you, I simply couldn’t find the tooth. I don’t suppose you saw where it went?”

  “Do you think I’d tell you?”

  Zarber gave him a scathing glance that said, “O thou idiot.” What he actually said was, “Yes, I do. But it’s all right. I still have enough teeth left to chew you to bits.”

  Rhys faced front hastily, ostensibly to give his attention to Pa-Lili’s opening chant, but his innards felt like a chilled pudding. He cursed the fact that Vladimir Zarber could make him react that way and tried to relax his grip on the spirit bag that hung from his necklace.

  “Uh... sir?” Yoshi Umeki was leaning toward him from her position on his right hand. “Sir, you... you have a spot, sir,” she whispered. “On your suit, sir.”

  He glanced down at the stain that spread across the front of his unisuit. “Oh, uh, I guess I was clumsier than I thought at breakfast.” He let go of the spirit bag. It hit his chest with a moist thump, then dangled in the perfect position to hide the stain. “There, that ought to cover it.” He gave Yoshi a reassuring smile, then turned to throw one over his shoulder at Danetta Price.

  Pa-Lili finished her chanting. “The Great Being is now attending our discourses,” she informed the assemblage. “We may begin.”

  The Eldest spoke. “Now that we are gathered like to like, the speaking after foon may proceed. Tell us what good is foon, that you wish to have it.” He gestured at Pa-Lili who spun twice, then hunkered down to point at Zarber.

  “You,” she fluted. “Speak of foon.”

  Just once, thought Rhys, gritting his teeth. Just once let going first not be the advantage he always makes it. Just once, let him be hoist on his own petard.

  Zarber rose and made a sweeping bow—his concession to a Shamanly caper. “Foon,” he said lugubriously, “is a small thing (very small, said his fingers) from which we make a stretchy fabric which some people (he made the “I speak of silly things” face and a muted gesture) like to wear. We sell them these shiny, stretchy things (of no import) and so we seek foon, which is so plentiful (and disagreeable) here.”

  Rhys’s lip curled. Belittling the importance of the resource. Next came the beads and trinkets.

  “So, you say this foon is of little worth to you?” asked Pa-Lili.

  “It is of some worth to those who wear it.”

  Pa-Lili stroked her new unisuit and made a thoughtful face. “Not worth a whole lot, huh?”

  She actually said “huh” in such a Human tone that Rhys laughed out loud. He turned it quickly into a cough, but caught the gleam of humor in Pa-Lili’s bright eyes.

  Zarber, meanwhile, disguised his own smirk behind a head wag that said, “Oh, a little—a little.”

  “Then why did you come all the way to Pa-Loana to speak of this (worth very little) subject? Star travel is very costly and so must be the time of your Chieftain.” Here, she jutted her long jaw toward the surrogate CEO. “The time of our Chieftains is very precious.”

  Zarber stiffened visibly. He made a minute gesture of apology. “I did not mean to belittle the importance of foon. I only meant that it is not, ah...”

  “Is foon important to you, Shaman Reeslooelen?” Pa-Lili asked abruptly.

  “Very important, Resplendent Pa-Lili. As you know, our clothing is largely made from it. Also medicinal supplies, survival equipment, and enjoym
ent things... equipment for games of sport. Wherever Humans go and the environment is harsh, things made from foon are necessary to our survival. There are so many, many things we Humans use that have (wonderful) foon in them.” Rhys glanced sideways at Zarber. Liar, he thought.

  “How say the Chiefs?” asked the Eldest in his dry-reed voice. His jaw designated the Bristol-Benz Chief as the first speaker.

  The young man blinked dark, almond-shaped eyes and cleared his throat. He looked uncertain. He wasn’t. “We find foon exactly important enough to come all the way to Pa-Loana to the Pa-Kai Council. We find it important enough to offer great wealth to you and your people.” The words were issued with calm, quiet, and dignified authority, leaving no question in Rhys’s mind why he was Zarber’s pick for the role of Chief.

  “Great Wealth?” cooed the Eldest.

  “Oh, wondrous wealth. Brilliantly colored wealth. Wealth such as you have never seen on Pa-Loana—” He cut off and glanced at Zarber, who was making a little cutting gesture at his own throat.

  The Benz Chieftain cleared his throat again. “You will be pleased, I guarantee it.”

  “And you, Chief Tanaka?” The Eldest’s chin pointed at Danetta.

  “Yes. Foon is very important to us. Our Clan manufactures products made with the essence of foon for billions of our fellow Humans and for men from other worlds, as well.”

  “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.”