Galatzi Trade Page 3

If Earth had invented it in the past, there was no reason to reinvent it just to be different.

  Baardorid sent a pair of covered carriages to collect us. They were simple contraptions: a wagon on four wheels pulled by two horses, but with a roof and seating inside for four each, two riding backwards. The driver sat on a seat at the front. Our ground effect vehicle would have been far more comfortable and less trouble besides, but we rarely used it. It tended to draw far more attention than we preferred.

  It wasn't a long ride, less than twenty minutes. We had horses, which were our usual method of locomotion, although I frequently walked into the town, especially the nearer locations.

  Unlike many planets, Talmon was safe. While minor theft happened on every planet, banditry was unheard of on Talmon. It came from the outlook of the original settlers, an "us against the planet" attitude that had never shifted away. Even the competition between city-states was healthy, more or less. Witness, for instance, the galatzi. While I didn't care for the custom, it was done in a fashion no one was hurt, even with the ceremonial "raid" involved.

  I wondered briefly if allowing this type of outlet relieved any pressure for less friendly competition. I made a mental note to ask Erica and Mallory about it sometime.

  Yes, I liked the Talmonese. They had been very welcoming, and I had hopes my several-year mission here would extend into something much longer.

  We arrived at the castle to be greeted by Valtine herself, flanked by two footmen.

  "I am so pleased you could come on such short notice," she said once I had climbed out of the carriage. "And you are all here. Very good, very good. Baardorid will be pleased. Come inside so I might see you."

  She took my arm and led me inside.

  The Talmonese may not have modern technology, but they did very well with what they had. The foyer was well lit by countless oil lamps. The oil was distilled from the local plants. It burned with an odd but pleasant scent. Valtine drew me under the brightest of the lights then took my hands, stepping away to look at me.

  "Beautiful," she said. "So beautiful." She stepped closer and fingered the fabric of my gown. "It is woven so fine," she said.

  It wasn't woven at all, but I didn't tell her that.

  She was stunning herself and dressed far less simply than I was. Her gown was floor length and full, although it lacked any of the ridiculous notions from ancient earth, thank the stars. The basic fabric was ivory-colored, but it was adorned in a complicated pattern of blue, and she looked stunning. She normally wore her long, blond hair in a simple braid down her back, but this time it was carefully coifed to hang about her shoulders.

  "You look lovely," I told her, searching for the right word. "Baardorid is a lucky man."

  "Yes, he is," she agreed with a laugh. "And some day you will make your own man equally happy."

  I kept my counsel on that. I tended to reserve my diplomacy for my job; at home, I wasn't so diplomatic. My man hadn't been particularly happy; nor had my six women over the years, but they at least had been happier.

  I didn't count the brief dalliances in that count. What was a month here, a year there?

  Valtine then made her greetings to the rest of my delegation and then frowned. "One of my offspring should be here to escort you deeper into the household. I must remain here to greet my next guests."

  "We know the way," I assured her. "We shall not grow lost."

  * * * *

  The eight of us split into smaller groups. Somehow I maintained possession of Mallory while Erica went off with Madge and Jim. Aston and Blaine each had their eyes on the local girls, and as long as they neither got anyone pregnant nor caused an international incident, their time was their own. Sunny let herself be drawn away by a group of young men, and Danver found himself the center of attention of a group of young widowers. He looked at me with a plea in his eye, but Mallory and I only laughed. He was old enough to handle a few forty-somethings.

  Mallory and I wandered the party, collecting a plate of food to share and discussing the festivities. We spoke English, assuring ourselves of privacy, although nothing we said would cause offense.

  "These parties are always alike," she observed. "The food and costumes may change, and the specific dynamics may vary, but in the end, they're always the same."

  "They are," I agreed, "but they also represent good opportunity."

  "I know. I always wonder why we try so hard to fit into their cultures when in the end, we expect them to fit into The Empire."

  I gave her a hard glance.

  "This is a rich culture," she went on. "Erica would happily spend decades here, leaving the culture unchanged. You know what's going to happen once we offer them membership in the Empire. They're going to want modern conveniences."

  "There's nothing wrong with that," I said. "And that doesn't destroy the culture."

  "No, but what will the Empire want in exchange? Fur? I don't think so. We don't exactly engage in charity, and interstellar travel is expensive."

  "It's our job to find those opportunities," I said. "Tourism-"

  "Is the only thing they offer," Mallory interrupted. "As isolated as this is, there are always people looking for an exotic vacation opportunity. But have you seen anything worth the trip?"

  I thought about it. "No. Maybe the mountains..."

  "Maybe," she agreed. She shook her head. "This planet is going to remain a relative backwater. It's not worth the Empire's time. They've got nothing anyone wants."

  "That's not why we're here-"

  "Of course it is," she said. "You can say we're reestablishing broken communications, and we are, but if there's nothing to exploit here, who is going to spend the reaction mass to get here? If they were on the way to anything else, they could serve as a trading and resupply hub, which throughout history has been a very lucrative role to fill. But there's no one out any further. This is the last stop." She sighed. "Cecilia, I like these people."

  "I do too, Mallory. I do, too."

  * * * *

  Mallory eventually wandered off. Over the next ninety minutes, I spoke briefly with a variety of people. Everyone knew who I was, but if they didn't, they could take one look at my gown and know I wasn't from Talmon. Chaladine stopped by after a while, and we had the most unexpected conversation.

  "Will we dance later?"

  "If we are able," she replied. "Did you bring your magic tablet?"

  I laughed. It had taken her an hour one day to explain the word "magic". I hefted my purse. "In here."

  "Will you show me the paintings of when you were flying?"

  I smiled. There was a sphere orbiting Gladeen Three with a large open arena at its core, and one of the popular activities was to don a pair of wings and fly. At the edge of the arena, centrifugal force generated about one tenth of earth standard gravity, but of course at the exact center axis, there was no gravity at all. Theoretically one could start at the north pole and jump and not come down until the south pole. In practice, that was considered impossible. One would be nudged this way or that by air currents, and then one would begin to fall towards one point or another on the arena. But with a pair of wings, one had near complete control.

  It had been a blast.

  I pulled out my tablet, found the appropriate video, then handed it to Chaladine. The video was a mix from the images I'd taken with a helmet-mounted camera and those a friend had taken with her camera. Samara had then edited them into a cohesive movie, showing our dance in the air, a dance that hadn't ended until hours later, our arms around each other.

  The video didn't show that.

  Chaladine knew what to do. She tapped the Start icon and then watched, enrapt.

  As she always did, Chaladine laughed with joy, then closed her eyes during the near-collision I'd had with one of the other fliers. The video finished, and she darkened the screen before returning the tablet for me.

  "So much magic," she said.

  She knew it wasn't magic, but to her, I guess it was.

&nbs
p; But then she asked me something she had never asked me before. "Would you take me there? I think I would like to fly."

  I smiled. "It is very, very far away."

  "If I take you outside, will you point to the star?"

  I thought about it. Gladeen should be visible from Talmon, but of course, only during some seasons.

  "I- I can," I said, "but I wouldn't know where to point. I can find out."

  She smiled. "You do not offer to take me outside and point to a random star, and say that is where you learned to fly?"

  I laughed. "I'm too honest for my own good. You understand that the stars change with the seasons. I do not know when Gladeen is visible. I will find out."

  "It is no matter. Perhaps I only seek an escape from this party." She laughed lightly. "Father would be very unhappy if we were to escape too early." She put on a serious expression. "I will be Vendart someday, but there are times I wish I could remain a child forever."

  "When one grows sufficiently old, one learns to be both an adult and a child at the same time. It is a difficult lesson that takes a very long time to learn."

  "I have learned to be one or the other," Chaladine said, "but not both at the same time." She sighed. "I fear my days to be a child have ended, although I thank you for the few moments I am able to spend with you." She paused. "But if you offered galatzi for me, I would go with you."

  "To learn to fly?"

  "Yes. You could offer Aston or Blaine. Aston is an eldest son, and so it would be a good trade. I would not fight when you came for me."

  "Aston is too old for Margotain," I said.

  "Father would accept for a galatzi agreement with you," she said. "He would need to wait until she is fourteen, but that is this winter. Not so long. Or perhaps he fancies Rordano, but that is not the rumor I hear."

  Chaladine had never talked to me like this before. I feared we had a diplomatic catastrophe in the makings. I had no idea how to answer her. I had no idea if she were serious or were teasing me. If she were serious, I had no idea how to decline. She was watching me carefully, but I couldn't read her expression.

  That was an unusual experience for me. One doesn't reach my age without learning to read people, some of us better than others. I was amongst the better.

  "Chaladine, does Sartine intend to take you with her?"

  Her expression clouded, then cleared. "No. She agreed not to take me. This party is so that she may decide who to take instead. If she decides, then father will pick between Hilopid and Mordain, and then Sartine will be free to a galatzi raid, taking whom she has chosen."

  "Will she take Rordano or Margotain then?"

  "Or perhaps someone else," Chaladine said.

  "One of your cousins?"

  "Anyone not in an exclusive relationship who calls father Vendart. Perhaps they need a smith and will take the smith's daughter. Perhaps they seek wisdom, and she will take Aunt Caltarn."

  She and I laughed together. The woman in question wasn't exactly Chaladine's aunt; it was a term of affection. The woman looked ancient, but her wisdom was deeply respected.

  Then she sobered. "I do not believe Aunt Caltarn would appreciate an Indartha winter." Then she offered a tentative smile and set her hand on my arm.

  That was when I knew her offer was serious.

  "There is no obligation to accept my offer," she said. "Father would be upset if he knew I had offered. Please do not tell him."

  She was lovely, truly lovely, and had been a good friend. But not once had I thought of her in those terms, not one single time.

  "I could not make you happy, Chaladine," I said. "I am alone for good reason. You would be happy for a year or three with me, but you would grow to hate me."

  She looked away. "I believe you are being diplomatic. It is not necessary."

  "I am horrible to live with," I said.

  "You couldn't possibly be." She looked back. "When you do not wish to answer my questions, you change the subject. You are very good at it, and I frequently do not realize you have done it until the next day. But I do not believe you have ever lied to me before. If you have, you have hidden it very well."

  "I have never lied, and I am not lying now. I spend my diplomacy in my job, and I have little remaining when I arrive home at night."

  "You could show me things no one else could show me."

  "That is a poor reason to offer yourself to me, especially when you will be Vendart here at a time when your people will need your wisdom."

  "Why will my people need my sparse wisdom?"

  "Because if you are unwise, my people will take what they do not deserve to have." I paused. "And now I will ask you to never repeat those words to anyone else, a gift to a friend."

  "And you will agree to not tell my father of this conversation."

  I smiled and held out my hand. "Agreed."

  "Agreed," she said with a hand clasp. She turned away, and we people watched for a minute or two. "You don't fancy me at all, do you?"

  "You are a very good friend," I replied.

  "More diplomacy," she said. "You fancied Sartine. She is not the first woman I have seen you look at."

  "I didn't know I was so obvious."

  "You aren't. I know your people accept a woman with a woman. Erica and Mallory are together."

  "Yes. It is not allowed everywhere."

  "And I know there are no rules preventing you from a relationship here. Or else you turn a blind eye to Aston and Blaine."

  "I have had brief dalliances that have turned into friendship," I said. "But I have never been able to keep a longtime lover as a friend," I said. "I can't see you as a lover, because you have your duties, and I have mine, and we would not be friends afterwards."

  "Ah, and so you can look at Sartine with desire in your gaze, because in a few days she will leave."

  I laughed lightly. "I enjoyed looking at Sartine, but I could barely understand one word in ten. I do not believe you should worry I will invite her home tonight."

  Chaladine laughed. "Perhaps she will invite herself."

  I laughed again, then we sobered, neither saying anything for a while.

  "We have not talked like this before."

  "No."

  "I enjoyed it."

  "Even if I do not offer to take you flying?"

  "Even then," she said.

  "I enjoyed it, too," I agreed.

  "All of it?" she asked, and I saw a sly grin.

  "Maybe not the part where I thought I was about to lose a friend."

  "You're not," she said. "Will you dance with me later?"

  "I would like nothing more."

  * * * *

  There was eventually a stir when the Indartha delegation arrived. Valtine led them into the ballroom herself, leading all of them directly to Baardorid. They spoke briefly, and then Baardorid raised his voice, gathering everyone's attention. He began by speaking quickly, too quickly for me, but then he glanced in my direction, and I know he started over, speaking more precisely.

  It was graciously done, I thought.

  He introduced Valtine and the others, explaining they were from Indartha, here to arrange a galatzi union. By the near complete lack of response, I thought perhaps everyone already knew. Baardorid then expressed assurances he knew everyone would provide the Indarthans with a warm welcome and said the music would begin in a half hour's time.

  And that was that.

  While he was talking, Sartine had scanned the crowd, her eyes finally settling on me for a time. We smiled across the room to each other, then she frowned. But I reached into my purse and pulled out my tablet, just exposing enough she could see it, and the smile returned. But then her gaze moved on, and so did mine.

  Soon after, she was pulled away, and I lost track of her.

  I wandered into the next room to find something to eat, and then I found myself dragged into a conversation.

  It was Margotain who found me some time later.

  "Cecilia Grace," she said from my elbow.<
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  "Margotain," I said. "Greetings."

  "I-" she looked down. "I apologize for interrupting."

  "Not at all."

  "My father asked me to find you. He wishes a dance."

  I smiled. "Then a dance he shall have."

  I let her take my hand. She was a sweet girl, shy but sincere. She was still in those gangly years, unsure of her own body and even more unsure of her social skills. But she had supportive parents who loved her and an older sister to pave the way, and I was confident she would grow up into a wonderful woman.

  I dreaded the next few days. It was Chaladine's company I would miss the most if Sartine were to take her away, but I realized I would miss Margotain's shy smile just as much.

  The girl led me next door. The musicians had already started, and the available dance space was occupied, although not entirely, a complicated Ramarti in progress. "I cannot dance this style," I told Margotain.

  "They will play a Samarti next," she said. "It will be a style my sister has taught you."

  "How do you know this?"

  "Because my sister is already moving towards the musicians to direct them." She gave me a full grin, quickly smothered. But she gestured with her nose, and sure enough, I saw Chaladine moving along the edge of the room, and there were few other possible destinations.

  Baardorid was standing with his wife and Sartine. I saw no sign of the rest of her delegation. Glancing around, I didn't see Rordano. "Where is your brother?"

  "I believe he is hiding from Mordain. Hilopid didn't even look at me, so he is sure they'll take him instead. He believes if he is sufficiently rude, they will not take him."

  "Neither of you wish to go."

  "I would go," she said. "Although it is very cold in Indartha. Rordano likes a boy in town, but he is afraid to tell my father."

  "Your father does not approve?"

  "The boy's mother and my father do not get along."

  That was an age old story.

  "They aren't that serious," Margotain said. "And Mordain is cute." She paused. "Please do not tell my father."

  I thought it was strange both of the Vendart's daughters were confiding in me today, but I assured her everything she had said was between the two of us. "Will you dance with me later?"