by Sarina Dorie
Only now, with the mob of natives seated around us, did I wonder if I was truly ready to be back. The idea of being in the den of my enemy unsettled me.
Dancing started. When the male dancers came out in loin cloths that left little to the imagination, Meriwether covered my eyes with his top hat. Probably best to let him believe I had never gazed upon nudity in my time here. He dropped his hat when women wearing skirts of furs and little else danced before the altar at the front of the room. Captain Ford nudged Charbonneau, who diverted his gaze and scratched at his wrists.
Meriwether cleared his throat. “The guidebook said Jomon attire themselves modestly.” My fiancé busied himself, fussing with his cape. I didn’t bother to repeat my opinion of the guidebook.
Perhaps to ensure he was enjoying himself, one of the women ventured closer and danced before us. Though she wasn’t bare breasted as some, her tunic was so loose it showed off more than it concealed when she moved. One of the guards barred her from coming closer with a spear and uttered something I didn’t catch.
The young lady must have held some position of prestige, as she simply pushed his spear aside and continued past. Her blue and white belt, a sign of rank, became visible as she ventured closer. She was beautiful in the untamed manner I had once grown accustomed to: her almond-shaped eyes full of unbridled delight, plump lips curving into a sensuous smile, and a lack of shame for the feminine curves of her body. Meriwether’s jaw hung open as the young lady swayed her hips before him, and she laughed at his unconcealed surprise. I was glad for her mane of black hair falling in front of the scant tunic, the only barrier between the captain’s leering and her body.
“I am Sumiko. What is your name?” she asked Meriwether in her language.
Immediately I noticed her informality, which was not the norm and knew something was amiss. “He’s called Meriwether, son of Lord Klark, the master of New Campton Manor Space Station. He is a great leader of his people.” A slight exaggeration. “I am Felicity, daughter of—” I stopped midsentence upon seeing Meriwether offer her his hand. “They don’t know that custom.”
Sumiko imitated his gesture, sticking her hand at his chest. Her arms were tattooed with double rings that resembled bracelets. They were similar to the ones I hid under my long sleeves, only mine also included geometric designs that stretched up to my elbows. Meriwether took her hand in his and kissed it, sending her into a bout of squealing. She yanked her hand back and wiped it on her skirt before a hasty retreat. The Jomon nearest whispered about “eating flesh” and “cannibals.”
Though the masks the guards wore hid most of their face, their mouths were grim lines, jaws clenching. One of the warriors grabbed Meriwether and shook him.
“I apologize on his behalf,” I quickly said before they could do more. “Among gaiyojin, that is a gesture of goodwill.”
Eyes watched our every movement. I had the distinct impression we were on display more than the performers.
Meriwether shook his head and looked genuinely hurt. I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Jomon don’t have the same customs we do. They don’t kiss. She probably thought you intended to eat her.”
His face turned red. “The guidebook didn’t say it would be improper to greet a lady this way.”
“That guidebook wasn’t meant for courtship,” Charbonneau said in a disapproving huff.
“I’ve kissed the hands of women from the Orient on Earth. They didn’t act offended.” Meriwether bit his lip. “I don’t know anything, do I?” He scooted closer and spoke more softly, lest he be heard. “Father should have sent someone else to lead this expedition. Someone older and more experienced, like you said.”
I cleared my throat. “So you overheard our conversation? Or did he tell you?” I prayed it was the latter.
“Your voice is hardly quiet when you’re angry, dear.” His eyes were sad. “I didn’t know about the inheritance your grandparents decided should be yours until you brought it up. Honestly, I didn’t know that was why he wanted us to marry. That isn’t why I asked you to marry me.”
“I know,” I whispered. “I didn’t know about it either.” Not until I had “accidentally” read Lord Klark’s correspondences.
“I just thought . . . well, I was the one who found you. I was in love with you from that first moment. It was my hope someday you might . . . .”
I glanced at the captain. He was too engrossed in the dancing to pay us any mind. Charbonneau leaned closer than I liked.
Meriwether took my hand. “He was set against allowing you to come, you being more valuable than me. He has other sons, but he hasn’t another potential daughter-in-law with an inheritance that could purchase an entire asteroid. But I begged. I thought if you and I spent time together alone on this expedition, you might grow to love me.” A bitter smile laced his lips. “But I supposed you had your own ways of convincing him.”
I wanted to tell Meriwether how I had never intended to use him; he wasn’t supposed to know of my agreeing to marry him to persuade his father. But now was not the time or place to discuss such matters.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I have grown to love you in the time I’ve known you, but I have never desired marriage. You know why I don’t wish to marry.” I swallowed the lump in my throat.
He clasped my hands to his chest. “Your past has never deterred me from loving you. I don’t care what people will say. I hold you in the highest affection, and I will wait patiently until the day you wish to marry me of your own free will, whether that is tomorrow or another seven years.”
I hardly deserved such adoration. My heart swelled with guilt and joy and love. Had we been in private I would have flung my arms around him and kissed him.
Charbonneau cleared his throat.
Meriwether winked at me. “We will speak on this again when we are alone.”
I had no idea what else to say so I squeezed his fingers instead. Meriwether was one of the few people I could tolerate on Lord Klark’s space station. For a long time I had considered him like a brother. Only recently had I entertained the notion I could love again. Or I thought I could once I had my memories back.
It was nearly a full hour of singing and music before the warlord chief deigned to join the celebration. He was simply called Nipa, the name and title bestowed on a tribal emperor. He wore the animal head of the vivid green tanuki raccoon dog mask like the tribe’s warriors. All I could see of his face was the square jaw and sensuous mouth, similar to the female dancer and other Jomon. His chest was bare, revealing broad shoulders and scars etched into the muscles of his belly. His belt was made of the blue and white stripes I recognized as a leader’s.
The female dancer who had entranced Meriwether placed herself beside him while the elders seated themselves at the bench on the opposite side of the shrine. Her informality now made more sense. She had no need to treat us with respect when her station was so high above us.
An old woman poured Nipa and the young lady I presumed to be his wife a drink. The leader in turn poured for the elders. After they drank, I nodded to the party. “You may take refreshments now.”
As soon as I raised my cup of shochu, my eyes watered. I feigned a sip out of politeness.
Meriwether choked and coughed. Charbonneau sipped his.
Captain Ford tipped his back in one gulp. “Now that’s some spirits!”
The Jomon watched us eat and drink, some laughing at our reactions. Even I tried not to laugh as Charbonneau stabbed at the slippery, cooked eel with his hashi, sending it sliding around his wooden plate. When the cups were refilled, Meriwether turned green.
“Just pretend to eat and drink if you don’t like it,” I said.
Captain Ford drank his refill of shochu and when Charbonneau wasn’t looking, he gulped down his as well.
When we finished our food, Nipa spoke in the Jomon tongue. “I wish I could welcome you to the Tanukijin precinct in peace rather than in war. Not only do your people trespass, but you attack my people. If my
scouts had not found you before the storm, you would be dead. It would seem your party owes me a great boon.” The corners of his mouth turned up into what I took to be a sly smile, though too much of his face remained hidden under his mask to fully read his expression.
I translated. Meriwether sat taller. “Oh? Tell him we can hardly refuse him with his men pointing spears at us, can we? Must we suffer such indignities when we have traveled all the way across the galaxy to come to this world?”
The leader crossed his arms as if displeased. Since few Jomon knew our language, he must have picked up on the superior tone.
This would not do. I bowed my head and stared at the dirt floor as I spoke in the native tongue. “We humbly apologize for the inconvenience we have caused, and wish to atone for the actions of our impulsive comrades. We can only hope to be of service to you and provide distraction and diversion during these long cold hours of the storm. If it pleases your elders to consider us allies, perhaps they would allow your warriors to rest.”
Two of the elder women chortled. An old man slapped his knee and muttered something I couldn’t understand. The village of witnesses murmured quietly. I wondered if I had used bad grammar or said the wrong word. I remembered how I used to confuse the word in their language for “big toe” and “sweet potato.”
Meriwether’s eyes narrowed. “Did you tell them?”
“Indeed.”
The leaders conferred and after a moment nodded. The warriors stepped back into the shadows of the walls, though they didn’t sit, nor release their weapons. I noticed how they flanked the fur-covered windows and doorways. There was no way to escape should we have need of it.
Nipa inclined his head. “You speak well, in our tongue and without the usual . . . impoliteness your people are apt to possess.” His chin angled toward Captain Ford ever so slightly, as though he thought he might be one of those people. “You have lived on this world before, ne?”
I nodded.
“Your accent is easier to understand than many outsiders.”
The Chiramantepjin also had preferred the sound of the United Worlds of America surveyors than those belonging to the British Empire of Planets, though I suspected my own was somewhere in between after living so many years at New Campton Manor Station among the British. The glint of his eyes under his mask shifted to Meriwether. “Tell me your business in my province and I will tell you whether I shall permit you shelter. If your answer displeases me, we will turn you out into the snow.”
After I translated, Meriwether said, “Tell him we wish to make a deal with them.” He retrieved a cherry-sized, red diamond from his breast pocket. The light from the fires made it sparkle and shine. “In exchange for information on where to acquire more of these stones, we will pay handsomely for your land. Tell him that.”
The villagers snickered and pointed to the red stone, though it was when I came to the part about us wanting more than everyone laughed outright. I thought I heard the word for “urine” repeated and suspected they were swearing at us.
“Maybe you don’t speak Jomon as well as you say,” Captain Ford said.
Nipa looked as though he, too, was trying not to laugh. When I finished speaking, he shook his head. “Ah, you wish for land like the others before you. And where will my people live? You have already pushed Chiramantepjin from our original home in the northern mountains. You’ve brought disease and endless winter to this world.”
“What did he say?” Meriwether asked.
“Pardon me, Nipa, but what do you mean? How are we to blame for winter?” I couldn’t keep the shock from my voice. The diseases I knew about. We’d been examined to ensure we were free of disease this time, and I’d insisted we bring vaccines for the supposedly non-existent natives—and existent livestock—should we spread disease.
Nipa went on. “Your sky ships bring death. They tore apart the jungle to plant crops that died after one season, and they destroyed the mountains for reasons we can’t comprehend. Your weapons scarred the earth and changed our seasons. Others have come before you stating that you have destroyed your original world. Must you do the same to ours?”
My heart sank. I shook my head. So much had changed since I’d been here last, only now it was clear to me why. The colonists had been terrascaping, like they had with the Oregon territories, to make it more temperate like Earth, and the prospectors had been mining for resources which surely had altered their landscape and livelihood.
Meriwether said, “Tell him we are prepared to offer him—”
“Silence! I have no patience for your bargains,” Nipa said. “If you wish me to speak with you at all, you will enact the traditional form of diplomacy among the tribes of my planet. We will perform tsuma no kokan.”
I raised my voice to be heard above the rising chattering in the room. “Please excuse my ignorance, Nipa. What do you mean by tsuma no kokan?” The word broke down into “wife” and “trade,” or “swap,” but the context wasn’t clear.
“In the traditional ways of my people that we have practiced for over a thousand years, I wish to perform an act of goodwill by giving your leader my wife for a fortnight. In that time, your people will learn from her and she will teach you our ways. You must convince her of your sincerity and goodwill, and that what you offer us is of equal value to what we offer you.” He gestured to Meriwether. “Tell him.”
As soon as I did, Meriwether’s gaze fell upon the pretty, young woman who sat beside the leader. His lips parted as if in question. She cast a shy smile at him and looked away. I might have accidentally elbowed him.
“My wife will become your wife and you will treat her with the respect and kindness a husband owes a wife. You will consummate your union in a bridal chamber and perform memory exchange as my people do to show the depth of their hearts.”
The young woman looked from Nipa to Meriwether and pointed. Her words were too soft to hear over the whispers in the crowd. The leader nodded. She blushed and looked away.
After I translated, I advised Meriwether. “You know what happened to me. If you are to do this, you must proceed with caution. They could steal your memories and leave you befuddled. You won’t even remember why you were here.”
“Is that it? Or do you wish to keep Mr. Klark all to yourself?” Captain Ford asked. “If this is the way these primitive people do business, what right have we to interfere in their local customs and offend their simple ways?” He winked at one of the women and blew her a kiss. The gesture only confused those watching, which was mostly the entire room.
I threw up my hands in exasperation. More than ever I hated the captain, not just because he was uncommonly rude, but because he was right for once. I did wish to keep Meriwether to myself. Guilt churned inside me. What if he fell in love with a Jomon maid and realized how inferior I was?
Charbonneau stroked his wiry sideburns. “You must prove yourself to your father one of these days, lad. You might as well enjoy yourself while you’re at it.” He glanced at me. “No offense, Miss Earnshaw.”
Meriwether couldn’t tear his gaze from the young woman making flirty eyes at him. I couldn’t completely blame him with the way he’d been sheltered onboard ships and British space stations, only seeing women with at least three layers of clothes. He cleared his throat and looked to me. “We are engaged. I would never do anything to injure our relationship.”
The captain chuckled, looking especially chipper for his condition. “We can always say I’m leader of this party. I don’t mind bedding exotic, planetside women.”
I felt bad for the young woman if he claimed leadership. On the other hand, if she did wipe out his memories, there wasn’t anyone else I could imagine who would benefit from a clean slate as much as he.
Meriwether rubbed his temple as he mulled over his options, thinking it over slowly as he was wont to do. Too slowly for the captain.
Captain Ford waved his hand in the air. “I will do this. In the name of diplomacy, I will bed as many primitive women as ne
cessity dictates.” He took another swig of shochu. Of my shochu. No wonder he felt so good.
“Fool,” one of the guards muttered from behind us. The elderly shook their heads at him. A few nearest rolled their eyes. In their culture he behaved like a child.
I looked into the fresh, young face of the woman, trying to discern whether I saw deception. Her visage lacked the sneaky smile of Nipa beside her. She didn’t look like a memory thief, not that I knew what one looked like. I tried to justify how it would be good for Meriwether to understand these people—and perhaps understand women. But in my heart I was no less jealous.
I placed a hand on Meriwether’s arm. “You promised your father you would do anything for this mission’s success. As did I. You are the leader. You must do this.” I loathed that I had to be the one to tell him this, his own fiancé. “Don’t let Captain Ford take your status as leader away from you.”
Meriwether sighed. “Indeed. Tell the natives I will do it.”
The leader’s lips curled into a smile as soon as Meriwether spoke. He inclined his head at my blushing fiancé. “Your leader agrees, as does my wife. But what of your leader’s wife? I must be given a wife in exchange.”
Of all the nerve! My palms immediately began to sweat. I didn’t bother to translate. “Meriwether Nipa hasn’t a wife, so it looks like your wife-swap isn’t possible.”
“Has Meriwether-kun a woman he has spoken for?” he asked. I frowned at the title “kun,” a reduction in status from emperor to simply a man. “A betrothed that he may trade while he samples mine. If no wife exists, a sister or mother will do.”
There were snickers from the crowd at the word “sample.”
“I will not be traded,” I said, dropping all politeness and informality. “I am not one of your chiramantep heifers.” The Tanukijin muttered around us. This tradition was not the way of the Chiramantepjin people that I had known. They valued women as equals and gave them a say in matters. They didn’t sell people, nor arrange marriages for wives and daughters.