“Manessa’s records about your planet say the tribes around here gather at every full moon for a marketplace, dancing, drinking, buying and selling slaves, weddings, and whatever else needs to be done. That’s tomorrow. Shall we go peek at it, maybe pick up some local foods?”
Sata frowned. “I didn’t know there were any people in this desert.”
“Very few, mostly south and east of here, closer to the gathering place. It’s supposedly sacred ground where no fighting is allowed.”
“We take mission bracelets anyway,” Kibi asserted.
“Of course. I’m putting Kibi in command of the mission so I’ll have time to read the rest of the cultural information. We can fly most of the way, then arrive on foot.”
The steward nodded. “We should wear our old tunics and boots, and take our cloaks.”
Ilika went back to the knowledge pad he was reading.
That evening, as they savored a sticky dessert Rini made from cooked grains, honey, and flour, all the talk around the table was about the adventure that would begin early the following morning.
“It feels like we sort of know what we’re doing now,” Boro began, “and like we were just fumbling around before.”
Ilika smiled. “You were. On our first flight, I had to remind you of every little thing, and you couldn’t even read numbers yet.”
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Rini
chuckled.
“It’s good to have Kibi commanding again,” Sata said, making eye contact with the steward.
Kibi blushed. “It’s . . . a little embarrassing after . . . what I did.”
“Now you know how I feel,” Mati shared, “a crippled slave piloting a flying ship!”
Kibi smiled at her fellow crew member.
“Weaknesses overcome are strengths,” Ilika explained. “If I wanted a perfect crew . . .”
“You wouldn’t have gone to a slave market!” Boro jumped in.
“Or anywhere else on your planet. I have some notes about tomorrow.”
They all fell silent and gave him their attention.
“The coins from your kingdom should work here, but don’t be surprised if you see other coins too. The metal is important, not the stamping.”
“We’re ready with coppers and small silvers,” Kibi said.
“I’ll bring a few larger coins, just in case. There will be a language barrier
— some of the people may speak your language, but probably not well.
Talking louder does not help, and may offend people. Use basic signs. Point to something you are interested in, hold up a copper piece, and you will probably be shown what they want for it.”
“I’ve assigned pairs already,” Kibi announced. “You’re with Mati, Ilika.
Boro will have a rucksack.”
“Good. No buying slaves or horses . . .”
The entire crew burst into laughter.
“. . . and no getting drunk. This is not a safe, comfortable situation where we can let down our guard. I will be surprised if we get back to the ship before dealing with something.”
They chuckled nervously, and looked thoughtful as they headed to their cabins to get some sleep.
A hint of light touched the desert sky as Mati carefully settled the Manessa Kwi onto a hidden rock shelf high in the mountains near the tribal gathering place. Ilika and Kibi examined the site with their bracelet lights, then returned to the ship.
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Sata used controls she had recently studied to mark the location in Manessa’s memory. Mati then lifted the ship back into the air.
Rini sent an infra-red view, showing heat sources in light colors, to all stations so they could see where people were camped and animals tethered.
Kibi selected a vacant clump of dunes, and Mati cut her thrusters at five hundred meters, then lowered the ship using the silent anti-mass drive.
Already in their boots, they quickly slipped on cloaks. Boro grabbed a pack, and they filed out onto the sand like ghosts.
Sata used her bracelet to send the Manessa Kwi back to the rock shelf in the mountains.
The six visitors soon found themselves among other hooded figures in the dawn light, some just arriving, others carrying water or food toward animal troughs or tents. A few were talking, but not in a language any of the crew members knew.
People camped wherever they could find space, and groups arriving with horses or donkeys spread out in the sand. Following the new arrivals, Kibi and her followers soon discovered the main gathering area in a sheltered ravine. Huge boulders would provide shade in the summer, wind-break in the winter. Rocks marked a circular area of sand. Some important clans, and merchants of many kinds, had their tents nearby.
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A donkey laden with baskets plodded along behind the group, so Kibi stepped off the path and the others followed. “Let’s just mill around in pairs,”
she suggested, “see where things are, listen for anyone who speaks our language, watch for trouble. Meet back here mid-morning.”
Ilika smiled at his second-in-command and walked slowly beside Mati toward the activity.
“Kibi is so good at leading things,” Mati said. “I hope she gets over her . . .
bolting.”
“Me too. She has plenty of challenges coming up . . . as we all do.”
Mati chuckled. “What do you think we’ll find here?”
“Maybe some food for the galley. Manessa’s records didn’t say what they eat. You never know when you’ll find an interesting souvenir or a gift.”
“I think . . . someone will get into trouble by breaking some taboo we don’t know about . . . either Boro . . . or maybe Kibi. I feel safe with you, ‘cause you’ve been to places like this.”
“Yes, but every culture has it’s own taboos.”
“Something’s cooking,” Mati began, nose to the air, “some kind of bread.
Over there.”
“Shall we look, maybe taste?”
“Yeah!”
When the six visitors regrouped, a thin sunlight was bathing the ravine, which by now was filled with the sounds of buying, selling, talking, and eating.
“I already picked up some nuts and dried fruits,” Boro shared, hefting his
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rucksack, “because it looked like they’d run out.”
“Kibi and I found some cheese,” Rini added, handing the small wheel to Boro for packing.
“There’s a trader here from our kingdom,” Kibi said. “Brought a big horse piled with stuff, and people are buying him out. We talked for a moment, but he was busy.”
Sata grinned and squirmed next to Boro. “Jewelry and things are at the far end of the ravine.”
After Ilika and Mati shared the location of the bread they had sampled, Kibi set the next meeting time for early afternoon. As everyone took to the path, Boro lingered for a moment beside Ilika and spoke in a soft voice. “I’d like to get Sata something, but I don’t think I have enough.”
Ilika grinned and slipped him a great silver piece. “My turn with the rucksack,” Ilika said aloud.
As Boro and Sata threaded their way slowly among the tents and vendors, looking at the crafts, fabrics, spices, and foods, they started to smell a sweet smoke coming from many of the tents, and were soon smiling and laughing right along with the desert youth who went to and fro on errands or in play.
Sata had, at first, been drawn to the jewelry, but now she took a keen interest in the fabrics, with strange printed or woven designs.
Having already done his share of the food shopping, Boro focused his attention on Sata, watching to see what she liked of the things for sale, sometimes slipping his arm around her as she stood looking over the wares.
She smiled up at him and pointed to things that piqued her interest.
They bought fried bread and spicy bean dip for lunch, then found a rock on the side of the ravine where they could sit.
“I feel goofy, and like I haven’t eaten in a week,” Sata shared, then devoured half her lunch quickly.
Boro attacked a chunk of bread. “I think it’s the smoke. It makes me hungry too.”
“I was thinking . . .” Sata pondered once her mouth was free, “that I don’t really want something just for myself, like jewelry, but something I can . . .
you know . . . share with my . . . favorite boy.” She looked at him with
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sparkling eyes, a mischievous smile, and bean dip on the corners of her mouth.
Boro was lost in her gaze for a long moment, but eventually found the presence of mind to say something. “Um . . . did you see anything special?”
“Yeah!” Sata replied eagerly, still looking into his eyes and grinning.
“Those thin cloaks made of that fancy material with all the designs in it. We could get one for each of us, and wear them when we go on walks . . . or dates!
But . . . I think they’re expensive . . .”
Boro smiled. “We have enough.”
During the afternoon, Ilika sat with Mati between short shopping trips, and they watched the people around them and discussed what they saw.
“I don’t see any slaves . . .” Mati said with a half-smile.
“I think we’re seeing them all the time, but they’re treated much better than we’re used to.”
“I wonder why.”
“I don’t know. Maybe . . . just because there are fewer people, so slaves are harder to find.”
“And . . .” Mati speculated, “it would be so easy to run away and hide in the rocks or dunes.”
Ilika pointed. “Look! There’s Rini dancing with those children!”
In the circular area at the middle of the gathering, about a dozen children, from barely walking to young adults, were prancing to the music of a piper, and Rini was quickly picking up the steps and the style of the dance. Kibi sat near, eating something.
Mati smiled with longing. “Will I be able to do that, Ilika?”
“Yes. We’ll talk to the healers as soon as we get to Satamia Star Station.
After the operation, you’ll have a period of recovery as you slowly build your strength and learn to walk. A few months later, your injury will be nothing but a memory.”
A far-away look lingered in Mati’s eyes as she continued to watch Rini and the desert youth frolic and dance in the sand. But mostly Rini.
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Deep Learning Notes
Ilika counseled his crew to avoid one of the most common mistakes tourists make: talking loudly to overcome a language barrier. It doesn’t work, just makes people angry, and is one of the reasons that rich countries have such a bad reputation around the world. A humble, open attitude works much better.
Why did Ilika accept, without complaint, Kibi’s decision to pair him with Mati?
Rini’s infra-red view gave them the information they needed, to avoid landing the ship near any of the local people, because people and animals are usually warmer than the surrounding land. In what situation would an infra-red image not work to see people and animals?
Social drugs are much more common in cultures that don’t operate dangerous machines. Sata and Boro were probably smelling marijuana or hashish, both from the hemp plant. In our culture, driving and operating other dangerous machines is so common that the only legal social drug is alcohol (which wears off quickly).
