Shaman (41 page)

As the two women stepped out into the street, Rasimet chuckled softly. “My thanks.”

“Why?”

“If you are not with me, Baker Burgat does not give bread. I swap for it.” She raised her head then, her eyes fixed on something up the way. “Ah! Your man-friend,” she said brightly.

Yoshi looked up to see Rhys striding down the avenue toward them, his hair bright in the afternoon sun, his legs tanned and sturdy below the hem of his tartan. The lanky geologist—what was his name: Igor or Ivan?—was with him, but Yoshi barely noticed.

Only when Rasimet laughed softly and nudged her did Yoshi realize she was blushing.

o0o

“You've outdone yourself, Yoshi,” Rhys told his assistant, once Rasimet had returned to the rhok jab. Tablet in hand, he paged through the raw list of terms she'd collected in the LF database. “Considering that you've been on the job for mere hours, you've expanded the lingua-base immensely.”

“The professor is right, Ms. Umeki,” said Ivan, affording her a brilliant smile. “I'm in awe.” He glanced to one side and cleared his throat. “May I call you ‘Yoshi'?”

She blinked at him. “Certainly, Professor.”

“Ivan.”

Yoshi smiled. “Ivan.”

Rhys watched the brief exchange with a peculiar combination of amusement and unease. Yoshi was inarguably an attractive young woman—something Rhys had grown increasingly aware of over the years—but she had been even-handed in her polite rejection of the advances of the various men who had attempted to court her. Rhys found himself wondering what he would do if she were to respond to Ivan's obvious interest.

He shook himself and asked, “What do we know?”

Yoshi launched. “They call themselves Arkuit. The village is low-tech, the economy is barter-based—as the advance team indicated,” she added with a nod at the still-smiling Ivan. “All the time I was in town I didn't see anything that looked like money, but trade was going on everywhere. In fact, someone brought an obviously ancient knife into the bakery.” She turned her gaze up to Ivan. “I'd swear it was a Wüsthof.”

Ivan grinned. “That belonged to our camp chef, Gunter. It was a gift, I guess you could say, to the metallurgist. Gunter has a collection of antique cutlery he likes to show off.”

“Speaking of gifts—look.” Yoshi raised her wrist, making her new bangle sparkle.

Rhys studied the bracelet. “Lovely. Where'd you get it?”

“Rasimet. I admired it and she just gave it to me.”

Ivan nodded. “That's part of their culture, apparently. If someone admires something you possess, you offer it as a gift. Rather a lovely idea. We've had to learn to be careful not to react too strongly to things they show us and to take note when one of them expresses a desire for something of ours.”

“Oh.” Yoshi turned her dark gaze to Ivan, who seemed to quiver. “I hope I didn't insult Rasimet by trying to refuse her gift—or by not noticing that she wanted something from me.”

“Oh, you can't miss it when one of them wants something. It starts with pointing and smiling and nodding and if that doesn't do the trick, they'll touch it or ask to hold it.”

Yoshi glanced at Rhys, gripping her Lingua Franca protectively. “Some of them have seemed very excited by the LF, Rhys. If they... well, do I have to give it to them?”

That was a good question. The LF was too vital a piece of equipment to fall victim to the “Santa” Clause. And it would serve little useful purpose among the Arkuit.

Those concerns barely registered. Rhys Llewellyn was entirely focused on the fact that Yoshi had called him “Rhys” without having to be prompted.

o0o

For safety's sake, they downloaded Yoshi's lingua-base and field notes to a second LF unit and backed it up on the
Ceilidh
's computer for good measure. Yoshi explained to Rasimet what the LF was and how it served their mission.

“It would be difficult,” she said tentatively, “to work without it. If someone liked it...”

Rasimet blinked her extraordinary eyes slowly, then said, “You may declare Right of Substitution.”

Yoshi could hear the capital letters in that phrase. “Right of Substitution?”

“Sometimes person desires what you cannot give. It is not yours or it is something necessary to you. You offer object of same value.” She shrugged. “It is our way. We are generous people.”

o0o

Rhys peered up the steep slope past Darrel Franks's broad back to the spot the Tanaka A-team was tentatively planning to drill their first bore. Nature had provided an entrée through a cavern that already burrowed deep into the mountain's western flank. As geography would have it, the cave opened out onto a wide, flat ledge.

“Even at an 80-20 split on the ore we'll extract,” Darrel said, continuing the argument they'd been having since they left camp, “the Arkuit will get many times more than they're using now.”

“They might use more if their smelting technology was more robust,” observed Rhys, “and you could help them with that.”

“Isn't the Collective likely to take a dim view of us trading high-tech with these guys?” Darrel had reached the broad ledge at the cave mouth and turned back to face Rhys, who scrambled up after him.

“High-tech? You consider a more durable smelting material high-tech?”

“The point is it's higher than their tech,” said Darrel. “And as you note, if their smelters are improved, their use of the metal would increase. That's hardly to our advantage.”

“But it might be to theirs. You're talking about intentionally keeping these people in the industrial dark ages so you can reap a profit.”

“I'm talking about putting Tanaka's interests first, Professor. We're not harming the Arkuit, we're just not accelerating their progress.”

Darrel ended the discussion by turning to lead the way into a high, gaping slash in the mountainside. Members of their geological team passed in and out of the opening pursuing their duties. Several videographers recorded their efforts.

Grinding his teeth in earnest now, Rhys swung around to help Yoshi up onto the little plateau, using the maneuver to drag his temper under control before he turned his attention back to Darrel Franks. “And what if the Arkuit improve their technology on their own, through trade and imitation? Then what? You have to plan ahead, Mr. Franks, and make allowances for what they might need ten years from now.”

“No, I don't. That's not my job, Prof.”

“No, it's mine,” growled Rhys, “and don't call me ‘prof.'”

“Sorry, Professor,” Darrel said, but his lips twitched. “Can you honestly tell me you see a growing need for the ore? That this is not just wishful thinking on your part? These people have probably been living here for millennia. They've barely brushed the surface of what's here.”

“Actually,” interjected Yoshi, “they haven't been here that long. They couldn't have been or they would have made a bigger impact on the environment. Judging from Rasimet's accounts and the village records, I'd say they moved here some time in the last century.”

“There, you see,” said Rhys. “So maybe they've not had a chance to delve all that far into the caves.”

Darrel paused in what was essentially a huge ante-room. Under the lights set up by the geology team, the veins of ore gleamed dully, eclipsed by the glitter of the crystals.

“Tell me, Professor Llewellyn, did you find the climb up here difficult?”

“What?...No.”

“This is the vent closest to the village. Do you notice anything ‘telling' about it?” He made a gesture that took in the entire chamber.

Rhys pivoted slowly, his eyes taking in the grandeur of the place. The steeply canted walls seemed to go on forever into the heart of the mountain, sparkling in the false light of the lamps. The ceiling was a distant wedge of shadow, and the floor was solid rock with a fine carpet of silt.

Rhys took a deep breath of the cool cavern air. It smelled of damp earth and age. This cavern might have gone uncounted eons without the touch of man...

“Oh,” said Yoshi.

“Oh, what?” Rick, bringing up the rear with his holocam, stopped to look at her.

Darrel said, “This cave is a half-hour walk from the village, and yet no native of that village has ever excavated here. These walls are unmarked. What signs of exploration we have found end right about where you're standing, Rick. The Arkuit seem to have no interest in this cave or in any others.”

“Perhaps it's sacred to them,” Rhys suggested. “In which case your mining it...”

Ivan cleared his throat. “They've shown no interest in our interest either, Professor. Llewellyn. I mean, maybe they're just afraid to say anything or maybe what we've done hasn't broken any taboos... yet.”

“Well, there's only one way to know that,” said Rhys, “and that's to ask. Which I intend to do.”

“Of course you do,” murmured Darrel. “Anything to keep Tanaka from getting these resources.”

“That's not what I'm about at all,” Rhys objected. “I merely don't want to see a future in which if an Arkuit uses these resources he or she is considered a criminal.”

“That would never happen!” Ivan exclaimed. “Tanaka has never unfairly —”

“‘Never' is a very dangerous word, Ivan,” Rhys observed. “And as Darrel has noted, Tanaka is changing.” He shook his head in surrender and glanced at Darrel. “Very well. What do you intend to offer them?”

“We intend to set aside sixty percent of all crystals for their use. Although I'd write in a clause that allows that to be renegotiated if our need for the crystals increases.”

“Need?” echoed Rick.

“I'm sure,” said Ivan, “that we can also work for a deal that will take the natives' projected needs into account. And...” He glanced at his associate. “...if this place is sacred, then... well, we're obligated to be sensitive to that.”

Darrel shook his head and led them further into the mountain.

o0o

“Have you ever gone up to mountain hall?” Yoshi asked Rasimet that evening as they enjoyed a ceremonial meal in the great stone hall at the head of the village.

The place was lit with torches and lamps that burned for hours with the sap from a local conifer. Family groups sat about low tables of odd shapes and sizes chattering and eating.

Rasimet glanced up from her plate, a piece of fish speared on the end of her eating stick. “Gorosh jab?” she repeated.

Yoshi didn't know the Arkuit word for “cave” and the LF was suddenly no help at all. It offered a variety of suggestions—words for cup, house, hole. She settled on the last of these and used her hands to say “Big, big hole in side of mountain.”

“No. What is it?”

“Place with much roesel and geifa. More than in stream.”

“Oh, you mean where stranger-men work.”

“Yes. Have you been?”

“No. Though I think maybe Metalworker Oreth has.”

Yoshi tried to read her expression for awe or concern. “Why is that? Is Sleeping Isvyerg sacred? Does it have special spirit?”

Rasimet gave her the most extraordinary look and blinked once, slowly. “All places have special spirit,” she said solemnly. “Same where you come from?”

“Yes. We care about this—if you don't want us to dig in sacred places...”

Rasimet glanced around and, espying her two colleagues, Prosim and Parsim, she stood. “Pardon, I must speak to my fellows.”

The Arkuit woman vacated her place at the table and Yoshi found herself face to face with Rhys, who'd been seated on Rasimet's opposite side.

“Well, that got a response,” Rhys said quietly, his eyes going to where Rasimet conferred with her fellow council members.

“Yes, but which part of it?”

o0o

Early the next day, with the aid of their LF units and Yoshi's much-expanded lingua-base (and Yoshi herself), Tanaka's A-Team leaders sat down and presented to the leaders of the Arkuit what it was they wanted.

Darrel Franks had asked to make the presentation himself and Rhys acquiesced until it became clear from the way he was posing the situation that he was angling for the Arkuit to simply give the humans the “rock of little value,” as was their way. At that point he stepped in and made it clear that they intended to barter for the substance called roesel.

“Clearly it is of value to us,” Rhys said mildly, “or we wouldn't want it.”

The village elders agreed that this was so.

Ivan, who had been warned about Rasimet's reaction to the question of sacredness, sketched out the impact of the mining operation on the mountain and on the village below it. The humans were planning, he told them, to set up a base camp some distance to the north on the mountain itself so that they would have little direct effect on town life.

Then Darrel asked questions about what the Arkuit might want in return for the rights to mine Sleeping Isvyerg.

Rhys was secretly concerned that the Arkuit would ask for technology that Tanaka could not, for constitutional reasons, give away. A superior chef's knife was one thing—a food replicator or a power generator was something else again.

The Arkuit, however, made no such requests. Instead, with a glance at her peers, Rasimet said, “We may not barter until Sleeping Isvyerg is satisfied.”

Rhys glanced at Darrel and found the other man glowering at him. “Satisfied in what way?” Rhys asked.

“Isvyerg wishes to see how roesel will be taken from one's body and how it will be used.”

Ivan blinked. “Well, I can explain to you in more detail —”

“No,” Rasimet said in Standard. “Isvyerg must see how this will be done and know if it will harm her. Can you show mountain what her future holds?”

This was a new wrinkle. “How may we do this?” Rhys asked.

Rasimet gave the Arkuit version of a shrug and returned to her native language. “Perhaps you can build machines you have shown us” —she gestured at the holo-display Ivan had used during his presentation to show the laser bore and refiner module Tanaka wished to install— “and show mountain spirit how they will work. This way, Isvyerg will know one will not be harmed.”