Read Dirge Online

Authors: Alan Dean Foster

Dirge (9 page)

“I’m sure that when I convey the results of this conference to my government it will want to do just that,” the minister assured the Pitar. “Local climatic considerations on Treetrunk will keep the pace of development below that of such worlds as Amropolous and New Riviera, but I know that as a first step the scientific outpost that is there now will be expanded as rapidly as possible.” Putting both massive hands together, he leaned forward and rested them on the table.

“Now that I have your most gracious concession on the principal matter at hand, we can proceed to a discussion of congruous minutiae. Specifically, how much and what sort of compensation does your government want in return for allowing us unrestricted settlement privileges on Treetrunk? I would imagine that trade credits would prove the most amenable, provided we have anything you want. If there is something else you wish that is within my government’s power to grant, I have the authority to recommend that it be given to you.”

For a second time the three Pitar conferred, giving Saluafata and his cohorts the opportunity to gaze long and lingeringly at their fetching alien counterparts.

“I am not sure we understand,” the female finally declared. “We want nothing from you.”

“Nothing?” HoOdam blurted. “No compensation at all?” So stupefied was she by the response that bordered on the ingenuous that she did not even notice Saluafata’s disapproving glower.

“How can we claim compensation?” The female concluded with one of the few, restrained Pitarian body gestures. Saluafata recognized it and enjoyed it. “Treetrunk is not ours to give. It is an empty world. We wish only to see you, our friends and close relations, settle and enjoy and populate it. The coincidence of stellar proximity grants us no special claim to it.”

Saluafata took the risk of pointing out something now in the hopes of avoiding disagreement or confusion later. Everything said at the conference was being recorded. Neither he nor the council wanted the Pitar or anyone else coming back years later insisting that a certain right had not been granted, that specific permissions had not been obtained.

“By galactic standards the Argus system lies much nearer the Twin Worlds than it does to Earth or any of its colonies. Members of the scientific team that you encountered there were told that your people had visited Treetrunk previously. To our way of thinking, that does give you the right of prior claim. Yet you wish to waive this privilege without recompense?”

“Quite,” the male on the right stated. “We have no use for the place. We are certain your people will find much success there, will multiply and fill the narrow ecological niche that is suited to mammals. We encourage you in this.”

“After all,” the other male added with an inviting smile, “why waste it? You want the place; we do not. Take it and welcome, and in friendship.”

“We will of course make periodic visits to monitor your progress.” The female’s smile, aimed exclusively at Saluafata, melted any lingering concerns. “It should be interesting to observe how your people spread themselves across a new world, since it is something we do not do and have never done ourselves.”

The minister found himself beaming back. “Naturally your people will always be welcome on the world you have so generously yielded to us, as well as here on Earth.”

“Then if there is nothing more to discuss…” The Pitarian representative left the implication dangling.

“Your people are fond of markings on documents,” one of the two males pointed out.

Saluafata would rather have spent the next hour staring into the amethyst windows that were the female’s eyes, but while he might be feeling like a love-struck schoolboy, he was not one. With regret, he broke the hypnotic connection and sat back in his seat. The buttressed chair groaned as he shifted his weight.

“Yes, I’m afraid it’s a tradition even a contemporary government adheres to. If you do not object, that is,” he added hastily, wondering what he would do if they did.

“We do not,” the female replied, to the minister’s relief. “We only find it a curious but harmless anachronism.” Again the supple smile that could melt lead. “We will be happy to put the written equivalent of our names to any material of your choosing.”

The official signing of the settlement agreement took place in the rooftop assembly chamber, a dome of iridescent, polarized glass that provided a much more dramatic backdrop to the ceremonies than the tiny conference room in which the unexpectedly meteoric negotiations had taken place two weeks previously. Given the presence of not one but several of the glamorous Pitar there was no shortage of media coverage and attention.

Though outranked by several more prominent signees, a restrained Saluafata dominated the proceedings with his sheer presence, his royal dimensions invariably singled out for comment by the tridee commentators. And when senior representatives of the world government returned to their homes and offices in distant Zurich, Washington, Beijing, and Delhi, it was the minister who remained behind to conclude the ceremonies and to see to the ultimate satisfaction of the visiting aliens. This appeared to be as much to their liking as to his.

Much as he luxuriated in the presence of the seductive Pitar, it was not all pleasure. There was business to be conducted. There had to be, or the aliens would have ignored him. Frivolity and fun did not seem to be part of their interspecies lexicon. Polite, pleasant, ingratiating even, they drew the line at convivial intimacy. It was a wall that the immensely gregarious minister was determined to break down. Within the government, subordinates and superiors alike were fond of remarking that Saluafata’s girth was exceeded only by his charm. The contrast between sharp mind and boyish charisma struck everyone who came in contact with him, if one could call a man who weighed nearly two hundred kilos “boyish.”

Yet his most sincere efforts to break down their inherent reserve resulted in nothing more than courteous smiles from the Pitar. Masking his disappointment, he persisted in his attempts, all the while conducting the people’s business.

This was difficult to do on a beach, where accompanied by Ymir he met four of the Pitar for an informal discussion on issues of mutual interest. It was difficult because one of them was the female who had presided over the negotiations that gave rights of colonization of Argus V to the people of Earth.

Slightly more hot natured than the average human, the Pitar enjoyed relaxing if not stiffly basking in the tropical sun. This they normally did in the absence of clothes. Even though the beach lay within the diplomatic compound and was screened and guarded, they had reluctantly agreed to make concessions to the inexplicable vagaries of contemporary human culture. Swimsuits had been provided for all four. The most they would tolerate were small swimsuits. Very small. Guards and privacy screens notwithstanding, the utter absence of these strategic strips of fabric might well have provoked a riot among the ever-hungry media.

Focusing on the business of diplomacy, or anything else for that matter, in the presence of the gem-eyed, statuesque female was not easy. Despite the envy others might feel at his perceived good fortune, Saluafata actually worked harder at such times to earn his stipend than he did in more formal surroundings.

As they sat in folding beach chairs that were the property of the government and gazed at the unruffled silken surface of the lagoon, the minister confined his comments to matters of mutual interest. He did not try to make small talk. The Pitar did not engage in small talk, a characteristic that had been noted and remarked upon as early as their initial contact with the crew of the
Chagos
. But that did not mean that a speaker as voluble as Saluafata could not insinuate casual queries into an otherwise formal diplomatic conversation.

Noting that Ymir was cavorting in the water with a pair of support personnel from Administration, the minister leaned into the sun shadow of the female Pitar’s shape. “The water here is safe and warm, but I don’t see any of your people enjoying it.”

Piercing eyes turned to meet his, and she smiled at him: the standard polite, noncommittal Pitarian smile. “We see oceans as a resource. There is no other reason to enter them except for harvesting and development.”

To someone like Saluafata, raised on an island in the middle of the Pacific, such an opinion constituted a kind of heresy. Or would have, had it come from a human. Still, he found it hard to believe that the oh-so-similar Pitar did not even indulge in recreational bathing. It was an observation, however, that allowed him to segue to a minor but curious point of diplomatic contention.

“You know that my government has now made more than several appeals to allow some of our representatives to visit the Twin Worlds.” Though his smile was far more open and genuine than hers, it won him no response. “Reciprocal cultural exchanges are a useful way of building and cementing long-term friendships.”

“We have no objection to such exchanges,” she reminded him. As she shifted in the seat, her barely covered golden alien backside only centimeters above the hot sand, he struggled to keep his thoughts focused on the current business. “We have already concluded numerous agreements permitting such contact.”

“Yes, but all of them call for Pitarian cultural groups to visit Earth, or one of the colonies. No permission has yet been granted allowing the equivalent human organizations access to either of the Twin Worlds.”

“It is just a matter of time.” This time when she smiled, it struck him as just a smidgen more genuine and less academic. Or was he reading into her expression that which he wanted to be there? “Your people have to understand, Minister Saluafata, that the natural reticence and shyness of my kind far exceeds their own. Confined as we are to the two homeworlds of our origin, we are intimidated by races that have spread themselves to other worlds, other star systems. This feeling is not restricted to humankind. We have yet to allow the thranx or any other newly contacted species access to the Twin Worlds.” Still speaking, she turned away from him to face the lagoon.

“I am sure it will come with time. But your government has to understand that access to the ancestral home of the Dominion is for us a most sensitive matter. Your people must be patient and not try to force the issue, especially when relations between us are maturing at such a satisfactory pace.” Reaching over, she touched the side of his forearm with long, lissome fingers. Though manifestly casual and anything but overtly erotic, the contact sent a shock through his entire expansive frame.

“It’s just that we don’t see any reason for your hesitation.” Despite his pleasurable unease, he refused to be distracted. “If true friendship is to be extended across the parsecs…”

She touched him again, and this time her fingers ran down his exposed skin from elbow to wrist. “Please, Minister Saluafata. It is very much such a pleasant day, and so good to—how is it said?—take a break from the relentlessness of duty. Do not spoil it by pressing me or my colleagues for a response we are not authorized to give. I can only reiterate that your people must have some patience with us.” This time he chose to believe that the scintillating smile came from the heart. “After all, we have not even been aware of one another’s existence for but a short time. Allow us our privacy.”

He grinned back. “It’s not for me to take away. I’m just doing my job by conveying the petitions of my superiors. Myself, I don’t care if your people choose to keep your homeworlds cloistered forever, so long as you come and visit us once in a while and we maintain amicable relations.”

“You are a gracious and understanding representative of your kind, Minister Saluafata. I can see why your people appointed you to such a significant position.”

“I’ve seen how your kind favor formality in interspecies relations.” He gestured amiably in the direction of the sand, the sea, and the tropical sky. “But just here, just now, couldn’t you break with your tradition for a few hours? Long enough to call me ‘Api’? It would please me.” His grin widened irresistibly. “Think of it as a diplomatic concession to improved relations.”

“‘Api.’” She considered him thoughtfully. “A small name for so large an individual.”

“It’s a common trait among my particular, very small tribe.”

“You are a tribe all by yourself, Api.”

It was the first time he, or perhaps anyone else, had heard a representative of the Pitar make a joke. He was encouraged beyond reason.

“I’m not involved with the extensive studies that have been undertaken and are still ongoing in attempts to resolve our respective biologies, but I have read the reports—at least, the informal ones. I have neither the time nor the training to delve into the scientific literature. One thing I believe we’ve had some trouble resolving is the matter of aging. You seem to do it so much better than us.”

She executed a Pitarian gesture of understanding. “It is not something we work at. Biology is what it is. It does not play favorites. Believe me, there are aspects to it where your abilities far exceed ours.”

“There are millions of humans who, after seeing you, would disagree. Take yourself, for example. Unlike with most human females, it’s impossible to tell if you’ve had or have not had children.”

The look she turned on him was so sharp and sudden it shocked him. “What makes you ask that?”

He hastened to recover. “Nothing particular. I was just making conversation.” His smile seemed to settle her. “I did not mean to intrude, or to violate any social taboos. Remember, we are still learning about each other.”

“That is true. You should excuse me. I should not have reacted the way that I did.”

But she had, Saluafata reflected, and he could not help wondering why. He proceeded gently. “Then if I’m not probing an area that’s restricted or off-limits, may I ask if you have had children?”

“No, I have not given birth to any offspring.” She smiled as she said it, but to the perceptive Saluafata she still seemed sensitive about the matter.

He was about to investigate further when she suddenly turned to him and once more placed a hand on his arm. The difference was that this time, she did not remove it.

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