“Do you expect the People of Heaven to try and stop you? Are you putting your headquarters underground for defensive reasons?” John asked.
“No, no, Captain; I told you why we build underground. The People of Heaven certainly know we're here, and will undoubtedly try to prevent us from establishing ourselves on Godsworld; I expect them to cut their prices and aggressively expand their trading."
“Cut prices?” John sat stunned for a moment as vague misgivings that had been mounting since the ship landed suddenly crystallized. Blessing and Kwam? did not notice; Blessing was inquiring what Bechtel-Rand's former employee thought would be the best-selling products on Godsworld.
John was realizing clearly for the first time that ITD and Bechtel-Rand were not immediately going to start shooting at each other. America Dawes and Gamaliel Blessing were merchants, not warriors.
They would not kill each other off.
He had made a mistake, a disastrous and irreversible mistake. ITD and Bechtel-Rand were not going to drive each other off Godsworld. They would split the planet between them.
He might still be able to salvage something from the situation, he told himself. The two were competitors. If he could keep them nibbling away at each other they might yet leave the rest of Godsworld alone.
And at the very least, Godsworlders would now have the choice of two Satanic organizations to surrender to, instead of only one. Somehow, John did not find that thought comforting.
He returned his attention to the meeting, and found that one of Blessing's remote floaters was projecting an incredibly detailed topographic map of Godsworld on a nearby cream-colored bulkhead.
“We're here,” Blessing said, pointing to a spot in the northeast of Isachar. “And Bechtel-Rand's base of operations is here, in the Hills of Judah, far more centrally located. Of course, with the opening contract and development license, they were able to pick any spot on the planet. Now, where would you two suggest we send our first batch of envoys?"
Kwam? shrugged. “That's not my field,” he said.
John looked at the map carefully, trying to match it up with the distorted and crudely-drawn maps he was familiar with. “Would this be the Little New Jordan River, here?” He pointed.
“Yes,” Blessing said after an instant's hesitation, “That's what the ship's records call it."
“Then this must be the marshes; there's a village there that I don't see on here."
“Oh, we can't show every single village on that map! If you like we can have it enlarged until the village does show. Why? What did you have in mind?"
“Oh, I'm just trying to get oriented. I was thinking you might try Little St. Peter. I have three men there loyal to me who might be able to sabotage the defenses."
“Captain, we aren't trying to capture towns from Bechtel-Rand's net quite yet; first we need to establish ourselves. We'll be cutting into their markets soon enough, but for now we need to turn a profit quickly to convince the home office it's worth investing further, and to do that we want previously-untapped markets, where we can set our own prices. Once we have more funds available we can start picking at the edges of Bechtel-Rand's little empire."
“Oh.” That was just good military sense, of course; build a base first, exploit that to support your attack…
But there wouldn't be any attack. ITD was not interested in killing or converting the people of Godsworld, but only in buying and selling. Odd, John thought, how very similar the strategies might be.
“What about the other villages in these hills around us-Isachar, they're called?” Blessing asked.
“Yes, Isachar. Probably not worth bothering with, actually,” John said without thinking. “Too many of them, too small, all independent of each other. It would take years to pick them all up piecemeal. That's why nobody ever conquered them-too much time and trouble for little gain."
“Ah. Small markets, then. We'll send out a few people to see what they have to offer, but I'd prefer something larger for our major campaign. What about this city-state here-doesn't it have something of an empire of its own? And trade, as well?” He pointed to a dot that John realized must represent Spiritus Sancti.
“That's the Realm of the Chosen of the Holy Ghost,” John said. “They're big and rich, all right, with a good location-protected on two sides but open to the western plain-but I don't think you'll be able to trade with them."
“Why not?"
“Because it's ruled by a man called the Anointed of God who doesn't trust Earthers. I tried to get him to invite you here, but he threw me out, and I wound up in Savior's Grace instead."
“Oh.” Blessing looked at the map. “It's too good to pass up, though. We'll have to offer this Anointed of God a deal he can't refuse. Either that, or depose him somehow.” He gazed thoughtfully at the map.
John, too, stared at it. Depose the Anointed? These Earthers might be merchants, not killers, but they had possibilities after all. Blessing was a pervert, by Godsworld standards, corrupting his own flesh with steel, but he had drive and intelligence; he was not wholly decadent, not a simple thrill-seeker like Tuesday Ikeya.
John wondered for a moment whether his rewiring included an empathy spike, but thrust the question aside as irrelevant.
This campaign, he thought, was going to be interesting. “How would you do that?” he asked.
“Oh, there are ways-but let's hope it doesn't come to that. Why doesn't this Anointed person like Terrans? I mean, Earthers?"
John described his last meeting with the Anointed, and told the story of Stephen Christ-is-Risen as he understood it.
Blessing frowned as he listened; when John had finished he thought silently for a moment. “This Stephen Christ-is-Risen,” he asked finally, “do you think Bechtel-Rand really sent him off-planet?"
John floundered for a moment, then looked at Kwam?.
“I think they did,” Kwam? said.
“Then I don't think we need to worry about protests to the CRA if we depose the Anointed,” Blessing said, “though I still hope it won't come to that. We can make anything we do to the Anointed look like what they did to Christ-is-Risen. I like that.” He paused. “It shouldn't be necessary, though. John, you've talked with this person, so I'll be sending you along, but you won't be speaking on our behalf-if anyone asks you're just along as a guide. I know just the person to send to talk to this Anointed.” He smiled, and one of his three floaters did a slow roll in mid-air.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“And the maiden pleased him, and she obtained kindness of him… "-Esther 2:9
****
The woman let out another little startled yip, and again John glanced sideways at her in disbelief. Even riding astride at a slow walk she was obviously having trouble staying in the saddle. John knew perfectly well that horses were extinct back on Earth-or nearly so, anyway-but he had not realized anyone, even a woman who had never seen a horse before, could have quite so much trouble riding one.
This woman, however, was doing just that. Three times now the entire expedition-John, the woman, and an escort of four of the Free People and two ITD employees-had come to a halt while John adjusted her saddle and boosted her up until she was reasonably steady once more. The stirrups had been shortened almost as far as they would go, the cinch-strap pulled so tight the horse was visibly uncomfortable; fortunately, the beast found for her was so placid it made no protest, but merely walked all the more slowly and gingerly.
John had great difficulty in believing that this tiny, frail, clumsy woman was Premosila Kim, the incredible salesperson that Gamaliel Blessing had been so proud of. She was less than five feet tall-a meter and a half, she said-by far the shortest Earther John had yet encountered, with black curling hair and big dark eyes, but flat-chested and scrawny. She did, he had to admit, have a delightful smile-she had used it on him when they were introduced-but it would take more than a smile to win over the Anointed.
She gasped suddenly as she slipped sideways; she caught herself with both hands grabbing
the pommel, but her riding skirt fell away.
After spending as much time as he had among Earthers John was no longer shocked or intrigued by the sight of a woman's legs, particularly legs as thin as these; he simply reined in his mount, slid to the ground, and walked back to recover the skirt. It would not do to let her be seen bare-legged by any of the Chosen.
Two of the men from Savior's Grace were staring, while the other two averted their eyes; John shook his head in disgust. Their reactions would be different a year from now, he told himself, when the Earthers had been around their village for awhile. The other two ITD people were not staring, but simply watching calmly and casually-but then, one of them was a woman herself. The other claimed to be from someplace called Groombridgiana, which he insisted was not on Earth at all, and for all John knew the women in Groombridgiana ran around stark naked.
He threw the skirt across the horse's back behind her, and stood by as she tugged it into place again.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling at him for the second time.
He smiled back without meaning to, then remounted and spurred his horse forward again. A pretty smile would not be enough to win over the Anointed-but it might help.
That was the last time she slipped; somehow she seemed to suddenly get the hang of riding after that, and by the time they reached the border of the Chosen Empire the party was moving at a decent pace and able to converse with one another.
John knew that long before they reached Spiritus Sancti, word of their coming would reach the army and an escort would meet them; that meant that this was his last opportunity to talk with Kim where there was no chance of being overheard by unfriendly ears. He had held his peace through all the long ride through the hills and while they wandered along the Upper New Jordan searching for a ford, but he could resist no longer.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked her at a moment when they happened to be out of easy earshot of the others.
“Do what?” She looked honestly puzzled.
“Talk to the Anointed. He hates Earthers; it's entirely possible he'll have you imprisoned or even killed."
“Oh, I don't think he'll do that."
“I'll do the talking, if you like."
“No, no; it's my job."
“But it's dangerous!"
“Captain, it's my job. I don't think you understand."
John was getting tired of being told that he didn't understand things, but he knew that it had usually been true when one of the Earthers had said that. “Oh?” he replied.
“Be honest, now; you've negotiated with this person three times so far. Have you ever gotten what you wanted?"
John had to admit that he had not gotten the alliance he had asked for, nor permission to land the ITD ship on the Anointed's land, but he insisted, “I got my guerrillas!"
“Yes, given grudgingly and undersupplied, and taken back again later!"
John had no answer to that.
“Besides, how can you speak for ITD, when he knows you as a True Worder? He won't really accept what you say. I know you work for ITD and hold a responsible position, but he won't believe it. He thinks of you as a Godsworlder and ITD as Earther, and if he's as rigid in his thinking as you've led me to believe he won't accept any crossovers."
“Not me, then, but you need a strong negotiator, someone he'll respect…"
“No, you don't. You're thinking in military terms again, Captain, where the object is to scare your enemy. We're not an army. We want to look just as harmless and weak as we can, don't you see that? We want him to believe that he has nothing to fear from us, that he can allow us the free run of his whole empire without worrying about his own security. And if he's like other primitives-forgive me, Captain, but that's what Godsworlders seem to us-then he'll equate physical size with power. If he sees me as the representative of ITD-as their spokesman and as their symbol both-then he'll think he's safe, that we're weak and harmless. He'll agree to terms that he would not risk granting to a big strong male like yourself."
“Oh.” John saw the logic to what she said, although it still went against his accustomed beliefs. After a moment of silence, he asked, “But aren't you really just as weak as he sees you to be? You don't have your ship here, or any of your machines…"
Kim sighed. “Take my word for it, Captain, I can handle it."
“But…"
She urged her horse forward before he could finish his question, putting an end to the conversation, and twenty minutes later their escort appeared.
In Spiritus Sancti they were met by two of the Anointed's advisors, both small, delicate men, who interrogated them politely in a small office; John noticed for the first time, now that Kim had brought it to his attention, that none of the government officials among the Chosen, and none of the higher-ranking officers, were really very large. John guessed that the Anointed did, indeed, equate physical strength with ambition and power, and allowed no big strong men into positions of power lest they one day overthrow him. That seemed odd, since the Anointed himself was so grotesquely fat that the effort of hauling his own weight around left him with little strength for anything else.
Or perhaps it was not so odd, at that. John thought of the Anointed as a man of great power, certainly, since he commanded an empire, but perhaps he saw himself as a weakling. His fear of being subverted by the Earthers certainly said little for his self-confidence.
At Kim's insistence John did not speak to the advisors during the questioning, but stood silently with the four men from Savior's Grace as the three offworlders were interviewed. He made no protest when the advisors recognized him and demanded to know why he was there, and were told that he had been hired simply as a guide. He understood that admitting a connection between himself and ITD might harm the negotiating; he also knew that with their mysteriously perfect maps-he was still unclear on what a ‘satellite’ was, though he had learned to spell and pronounce the word-the Earthers had no need of guides in the usual sense.
Kim did virtually all the talking for the Earthers, despite the attempts of the advisors to draw her male companion into the conversation. The Groombridgian was adept at finding various ways of saying, “That's not my field; you'll have to ask my superior, Ms. Kim."
Something about Kim seemed to make the two Chosen uneasy, although John could not see what it would be; she was being the very picture of deference, smiling, nodding, apologizing, and speaking in simple, sometimes broken sentences, as if she were not fluent in English-or rather, Godsworlder English, as the Earthers called it. Apparently it differed greatly from the dead language known as English back on Earth.
It was only as the conversation was nearing its end that John realized the Chosen were having trouble dealing with her because she was a woman. He had been associating so much with Earthers that he had forgotten how thoroughly the Chosen despised women, the heirs of sinful Eve. The People of the True Word and Flesh had relegated women to secondary roles, as did every Godsworld society, but the Chosen carried it to an extreme-while the Earthers at times seemed totally oblivious of any difference between the sexes. Perhaps that was another reason that the Anointed had wanted nothing to do with them.
And not only was Kim female, but John realized when they all stood again that she had managed to loosen the collar of her blouse, as if by accident. Throughout the interrogation the Anointed's advisors had been staring down her neckline, too polite to mention her apparent disarray; a Godsworlder woman would have noticed their stares and fixed the collar.
She certainly knew the difference between the sexes, and was willing to exploit it. That was nothing new on either planet, John was sure.
It was decided that Kim, the man from Groombridgiana, and the senior of the men from Savior's Grace would be permitted to discuss the possibility of trade with the Anointed the following morning. The entire party was escorted to rooms up the street, which John remembered well.
When they were gathered in their two rooms, John remarked quietly to
Kim, “I'm impressed, I think-you probably convinced those advisors you're a harlot, and not a very bright one at that."
“Do you think so?"
“Yes."
“Oh, good! I was hoping that was their impression, but I wasn't sure how far to go to convince them without being blatant."
“Oh? You planned on being taken for a whore?"
“Certainly! Is there anyone more despised and harmless in your culture? They probably think I'm Blessing's woman of the moment, and the fact that he sent me on a delicate mission should convince them he's either an idiot, drastically short-handed, or both. How much of a threat can his organization be, then? You see? You couldn't have done that-no man could."
John shook his head in admiration. “You Earthers may not all be Satanists-I haven't decided that one yet-but you're tricky enough."
Kim shrugged. “Just psychology."
“I still don't think he'll let you open a trading post here, though."
At that, Kim just smiled.
John had underestimated the Earther salespeople and the Anointed's greed; Kim returned from her first audience with a signed agreement allowing ITD traders freedom to cross the borders at will until further notice. She was also bubbling with suppressed laughter at the Anointed's ludicrous attempts to seduce her.
Within a fortnight the Chosen of the Holy Ghost had not merely agreed to the establishment of a trading mission, but had joined the Free Trade Federation, ITD's puppet organization intended to counter the Protectorate of Heaven, outright, signing exclusive contracts stating that ITD was to supply all new weapons for their army.
Once the Anointed had signed the contract and joined the Federation the two corporate powers shared a border-the border between the Chosen and the True Worders, the site of conflict for as far back as John could recall. Upon his return to Savior's Grace John spent an hour or so pondering this on the incredible maps ITD's ship generated upon request, and brought up the subject at the next strategy session.
“You know, if the Chosen were to march south across the Little New Jordan, then swing west, they could cut the True Worders off from the rest of the Protectorate and probably march right into New Nazareth unopposed. The True Worders don't have much of an army; they lost it fighting the Heaveners."
Shining Steel Page 19
