Hal Clement - Noise

“None of us right here is a trader, but I’m sure there are people in Aorangi who would like to take a chance on it. If you care to entrust the pod to me, I can pass it on to the school; the chemists there might be able to tell us enough to make a better guess at its real value. But perhaps”—a smile was just visible behind her mask—“you’d rather not have that knowledge spread too far before the sale.” Wanaka smiled also; she of course did not regard the suggestion as insulting, but handed the packet of dust over without comment. She also began to doubt the statement that no one there was a trader.

“You might think about whether you should place a starting bid very low or very high in iron-equivalents,” Hinemoa added. “Too far either way I suppose would discourage risk-taking. Personally, I’d suggest starting low.”

“It will take some thinking,” Wanaka agreed, carefully not implying a preference. Her doubt was growing stronger. After some discussion, it was settled that word would be spread among the metal dealers of the city, and that these would be on hand at the next sunrise to inspect the cargo and make offers. Wanaka mentioned that she did have other metals to trade if they were wanted—iron, copper, and titanium. No one seemed greatly interested, and even Mike began to wonder whether some or all of the group might not actually be traders in spite of Hinemoa’s denial.

He also, although a much better historian than salesman, could understand what lay behind Wanaka’s final sentence: “Since we still don’t know what this stuff is, I plan to sell no more than a third of it here. If anyone wants more, I’ll need strong persuasion.” Her listeners showed no surprise at this either; if none of them was a trader, they were at least not naive.

The meeting broke up. The local adults spread out to greet the crews of the newly arrived ships. Some of these spoke briefly with Mata ’s crew as well as they could without Mike’s help, but none admitted having anything to trade. Mike wondered what they might have been doing at sea, since even his inexperienced eye could tell that the ships in the lake were indeed floating high and probably were in fact carrying little or no cargo.

Keo confirmed the latter observation when they waded back to their own ship. Mike observed proper helmet discipline carefully this time.

The mate had also been wondering about how the rendezvous between city and newcomers could have been accomplished with the former’s location presumably unknown even to its inhabitants. He remarked on this at once, evidently sharing the captain’s suspicions that they had not been told the whole truth. Wanaka, quite reasonably, had a different priority problem: how was Mata to get back to sea?

“We’ll trade tomorrow if we can,” she said, “and leave as soon as possible afterward, also if we can. We won’t need to do any special water bargaining. Even if these people are the sort to hold someone up on water, which is hard to believe but would tell us a lot, we have plenty; and ’Oloa can get us back pretty close to where we got this load, anyway. The real question is how we get back to sea at all. It obviously can be done, since their own ships were washed up here with ours—and all of you surely realize that was planned . Intended. That wave didn’t come when it did by chance. I can’t even guess how it was done, or how they knew it was coming, but all our imaginations need to go to work on that. Even if we figure it out we’ll need these folks’ permission and probably their help to leave, but I’ll still feel better understanding that bit, too.”

“There are youngsters in the group ashore,” pointed out the mate. “Maybe ’Ao should practice a little hospitality, being sure to remind her doll about the talking rules first. It’ll be good to have a bunch of local kids chattering in the cabin with ’Ao and ’Oloa both listening, but remember the kids will be listening, too. Any of them could put two and two together if they heard the doll, and no matter how honest these people are we might find ourselves short one highly useful sample of concealed silicon.”

Wanaka nodded. “She won’t say anything that an ordinary doll wouldn’t if anyone but regular crew is in hearing. She already knows that. Mike, I’m afraid I’m more worried about your possible indiscretions than about ’Oloa’s. No insult intended.”

“None felt. I’m worried myself. That’s why I called you into the talk even though you’d said I could say anything. If I have to chat with any more of these people, except when I’m translating for you, I’ll certainly be careful. Just remember, I’m a scholar before I’m a trader. Words are communication tools to me, not game pieces.”

“I’ve noticed,” was all the captain answered. Mike couldn’t decide whether he had relieved her worries or added to them, but didn’t feel insulted.

The four went back ashore, where even more people were now assembled. Many of these gathered around to ask questions, and Mike was kept busy translating. It was easy enough for him; the local language, not too surprisingly from the city’s name, was indeed nearly unaltered Maori. Aorangi was the name of a mountain on the South Island, and probably of the ship that had brought these folks’ ancestors to Kainui.

’Ao was talking to people her own age, making as little use of Mike’s services as she could; and presently she and three others made their way—helmets sealed, this time, because all had to swim—back to Mata where, after some minutes of examining the deck and outside equipment, all crowded into the air lock.

While this was going on, Hinemoa had worked her way through the crowd back to Wanaka’s neighborhood, and invited her and her crew into the city. The captain was more than willing.

“Should we leave a deck watch?” she asked. “Your own crews don’t seem to be.”

“The ships are safe, but no one will be insulted if you do. You are in an unfamiliar port.”

“How about deploying our leaf? It’s less efficient this far south, and it’s the only way we can power our breathing equipment.”

Hinemoa was interested, and asked for a more complete explanation of Mata ’s photosynthetic apparatus. Wanaka, glad of the chance to improve relations, provided the explanation and supplied several clippings of the structure when it had been deployed. It would, of course, heal itself.

“We’d better all come inside together so that we will know where we sleep,” the captain suggested. “I can decide about a watch later.”

“Of course. Most of us are going in now, but someone will gladly wait until your apprentice has finished entertaining. One of her guests is my son; we can board your vessel and make introductions if you like. You’ll want to know your ’Ao’s new friends. Then we can all go to Kone’s and my home and party properly.”

Wanaka responded suitably. Mike was pretty sure she meant it; it would be good, he realized, if more than just ’Ao heard the talk of the children.

They waited until nearly all the Aorangi had vanished, however, before going out to Mata ; interrupting an adult party would have been all right—they would simply have been joining in—but an all-child get-together was different. Hinemoa showed no signs of impatience, but Wanaka finally suggested, “Mike, you might visit the cabin and ask if anyone is having word troubles.”

“They won’t think I’m intruding?”

Hinemoa smiled behind her mask. “Eru will assume it’s a hint from me. The others won’t think about it except that adults are always interrupting. Go ahead.”

Actually, Hoani’s entrance did little to end the party; he was immediately put to work clarifying questions the visiting children had not been able to get across to ’Ao. Eventually, Hinemoa herself entered and invited everyone to her home.