The Terran Game

The thin, warm air of Alpha Mensae B1 caressed Jaime's face as it blew through the ship from the open gangway. Nervously, he tightened his grip on his suitcase and started down the gangplank. The planet was about the size of Mars and had a lower gravity than Earth but the higher CO2 concentration quickly left him gasping. The dizzying combination only heightened his sense of fear and failure. The freighter had been his refuge for the past three months but now it was time to start yet another new assignment. This was his fifth assignment in eight years, even though most in his field had two or three over the course of a career. Jaime took a deep breath to steady himself and headed for the ground.

The immigration officer scanned Jaime's documentation via RFID and waved him through without even pausing in conversation with the attractive first mate who had come aground to see what delights the town might offer. Like all landing areas on undeveloped planets, the pad itself was a barren, scorched mess with a single prefab unit where the port officials sought refuge from the heat and dust when they weren't chasing crewmembers. But there were autocabs at the foot of the gangplank and standing next to one was a thin, leathery woman in a faded blue worksuit. Jaime's idjit chimed and pointed a holographic arrow at her with the label "Stefanna Minsk, Plassey Group Planetary Coordinator".

At the same moment, the woman looked up from her idjit. With a tight smile on her lips, she waited for Jaime to walk down the plank and up to the autocab.

"Stefanna Minsk," she said as she held out her hand for him to shake. "I run the place. Welcome to Mud."

"I thought this was called M'mod," Jaime said as they exchanged grips. "Or Alpha Mensae B1, if you want to be technical."

"You're right, but most Terrans can't say it. And come winter, you'll be up to your knees in freezing red muck. So we call it Mud."

"Doesn't that bother the T'nrica?" Jamie asked. Grunting a bit as he put his bags in the autocab, he continued. "I'm eager to meet them."

"I don't see why," came the acerbic reply. "Mud is a nowhere planet filled with ridiculous creatures that exist just to drive us crazy."

"It can't be all bad," Jaime said as they climbed into the car. The autocab started with a jolt and then accelerated smoothly until the purple bushes along the packed red dirt road were just a blur.

"Wanna bet? See that yellow haze out there? Flowering plants never developed here, so every spring we get pollen thick enough to choke on. Two weeks from now is summer, which will be hot, brutal, and blessedly short. Then we've got three weeks of fall before we get three days of winter while good old Tar hides behind Muck and it rains like the dickens. Then we slog through another three weeks of spring before the whole damn thing starts over again!"

"OK, maybe the weather leaves a little to be desired," Jaime started.

"That's the problem," Stefanna said bitterly. "The weather is the best part of this damn planet! The heat and the dust mean that a drone lasts a week and a car works for a month before it has to be torn down and rebuilt. The head office won't send us any decent eats because Mudder food won't acively poison us, but Mudder food all tastes like cardboard, which means I waste my bonus on importing real food. And since this isn't an established trading world yet, all we get is five-year old tri-vi and ten-year old solidos for entertainment. Even that would be OK if we could just sell something, anything to the Mudders."

"I thought offering them passage to other star systems was a good idea." That had been Stefanna's last idea before admitting defeat and asking the head office for help. Jaime was their response and a measure of either their optimism or their desperation. Or both.

"So did I," Stefanna said, looking sideways at Jaime for signs of sarcasm. Seeing none, she gave a short nod before continuing. "So did the head honchos. So did everyone but the Mudders. They just looked at me, blank as you please, and said 'star flight is a children's game'. Turns out they had space travel and gave it up. The research crew on Alpha Mensae C found Mudder ruins last week. Naturally, they couldn't find this before I tell everyone how this is going to be the big break, oh no."

"Sorry," Jaime said, squirming inwardly in sympathy. "That happened to me once. A guy bucking for a promotion didn't tell me the new specs for a product and we had to scrap an entire week's worth of output."

"Did he get his promotion?"

"No, it cost him his career; he was blacklisted. Unfortunately, it also cost me my job."

"Well, you're here now. And that won't happen this time because I want you to succeed so I can as well," Stefanna assured him. "Here's the store."

As she pointed out the window, the autocab pulled up to the Plassey Group's store. They got out and Jaime rescued his bags before sending the autocab on its way, the bill settled automatically via RFID with a withdrawal from his credit account. Inside, the place was empty except for a few Terrans from the space port and one lone Cetian, out of place in his chlorine-filled encounter suit.

Stefanna waved her arm, encompassing the whole enterprise. "Behold Plassey in all it's glory! We have everything that a Mudder could want, from water to heavy metals. You'd think that they'd be all over us since we brought exactly what this planet lacks. But no; they just blink their eyes, say ' m'cala' and walk away."

"M'cala?" Jaime asked. "That wasn't in the vocabluary."

"There's a lot that isn't in there. They learned our language faster than we learned theirs. So they get to decide what we talk about and when," Stefanna complained. "Sorry. I don't mean to dump on you but this planet is driving me crazy."

Jaime nodded in understanding and followed Stefanna into the Plassey Group's store. Obviously business wasn't just bad, it was terrible. And it was his job to fix it, somehow. Stefanna tapped him on his shoulder and pointed at the stairs.

"Your room is the third from the end," she said. "Drop your stuff off and settle in. Dinner is in two hours; we'll talk more then."

Jaime went to his room and placed his belongings into the various receptacles for them. Spread out, they made a thin layer over the sparse furnishings. He had learned to travel light long ago; the lesson had been made easier by not having much to travel with growing up. Where some of his fellow junior executives would only travel with certain amenities or on certain lines, Jaime would take whatever transport he could get as long as it was safe. The three-month voyage had been the fastest and least-expensive that he could find but it meant sacrificing some of the comforts of planet-side living, not the least of which was plenty of running water. He intended to take a quick shower and explore the town a bit before dinner, but the feel of real water, instead of sonic waves and sani-gel, led him to spend more time than expected in the bath. As a result, dinner was ready almost before Jaime was.

Heading downstairs, he saw Stefanna closing the doors and setting the lock. Where he had grown up, the doors had reinforced frames and six or more deadbolts; on this planet, the lock was a piece of rope, tied in an ornate knot across the doorknobs. Despite the relative simplicity of the lock, he knew that their goods were far safer than his parent's apartment had ever been. Stefanna saw him and gestured him over. Quickly, she took him on a tour of the facility. The ground floor was the main shop and a combination storeroom and office. In the basement were the standard 3D printers and feedstocks along with a small but heavy-duty power source that supplied electricity to the store; she pointed out where the excess was sold to the local grid, helping to reduce the cost of running the store. They finished the tour back on the second floor, home to the living quarters and kitchen.

Though Stefanna plainly viewed the sparse kitchen as just one more insulting economy move on a marginal planet, Jaime found it to be larger and better equipped than the one in his parent's apartment. Stefanna grabbed one of the meal boxes, placed it in the autochef and punched the cook button. Following her lead, he took the other. As he placed it in to heat, he saw that it was one of his favorite meals. Obviously, their idjits had done some talking. Thirty seconds later, his meal popped out, hot and ready to eat. They gathered the meals up along with cold drinks from the small fridge and sat at the table.

"So how is business?" Jaime asked as he sat opposite Stefanna.

"It sucks. And it shouldn't!" Stefanna's frustration was clear. "We've known about the system for ten years. Five years ago, the planet was cleared for trade and Plassey outbid everyone for the rights to trade here. We expected to make a mint from the machines. Instead, we've lost a crapload of money thanks to the Mudders' refusal to trade."

"Tell me about the machines," Jaime urged; his idjit had provided descriptions and holographic images but he'd learned the hard way that second-hand data was no substitute for actual experience. "I tried studying them on the trip here but got lost in the technobabble about biological Von Neuman machines."

"What's to tell? You know how we breed dogs and horses to get certain traits? If you want to go hunting, you get a hunting dog. If you want to go racing, you get a quarter horse. Well, they do that with machines. Their machines aren't exactly alive and they aren't exactly biological, but they may as well be."

"I don't get it," Jaime admitted. "How can you breed a machine?"

"I don't know, but the big brain boys like Drinker and Othneil tell me it can be done; they're the biologists studying Mud and they seem to think this is some sort of evolutionary paradise, despite the tree snakes. According to them, there are similar critters on Terra. They said that there's a bug called a plant-hopper that actually has gears in its legs. And the octopus is nothing but a jet engine. The Mudders have just gone one step further, is all."

"That's amazing," Jaime said.

"That's nothing. They've bred one critter that takes about a year to reach full size. When it is done, it is a house, complete with bathrooms and kitchens and living rooms, ready to hold a Mudder tribe of fifty bachelors. Do you have any idea what something like that would be worth on a pioneer planet? Or in the slums?"

"Yes," Jaime replied.

"That's right. You started out in the slums," Stefanna said. Ignoring Jaime's self-conscious wince, she continued. "How about this one? They've got a set of living zeppelins that they use to travel long-distance. One of them is just about the size of this store and can carry four people about five hundred klicks in two days. Another is nearly as big as this town, carries two hundred, and can fly more than two thousand klicks supersonic. And in the five years I've been here, not one of them has ever crashed. Not one. Forget the fact that these things are cheaper to operate than hovercraft. They never crash! Just think about what we could do with that technology!"

"Why won't they trade? Some sort of cultural taboo?" Overcoming taboos had been the topic of his dissertation.

"No. They swap goods between each group all the time. If the local Mudders want a new lodge, they trade with the ones up near Sweetwater; horses for lodges. If they want a trip to the Magie Mountains on the other side of Mud, they swap sumuk wine for passage. There seems to be a fixed rate of exchange but I haven't been able to figure it out."

"So is it just us that they won't trade with?" Jaime asked. "What about other aliens?"

"Nope. Ignoring the fact that we're supposed to have an exclusive contract to exploit this planet, I've seen traders from seven different alien species try to make a trade. Hell, the last three I let try just so I could steal their idea if it worked. Not one of them has managed it. They all get the same brush-off that we do."

Looking at his plate, Jaime was surprised to find that he'd finished dinner sometime during the discussion, as had Stefanna. He gathered up the dishes and placed them in the recycler. As he turned back, he almost ran into Stefanna, standing right behind him with her arms on her hips.

"I don't care what you do. I don't care how you do it. Get trade started on this planet or we're both through!"

With that ultimatum, she headed off to her room. Hearing her lock click, Jaime understood; she didn't want him here for companionship. She wanted him here to make this planet, her planet, a success. The only problem was that he didn't have the foggiest idea of how to do it.

Lying on his bed, he thought back over the past eight years. Jaime's career had begun promisingly. He'd been a bright young go-getter, destined for bigger and better things. Growing up in the slums had taught him how to work hard, and his grades in school showed it. Though he may have lacked a few of the social graces of the students from more fortunate circumstances, he made up for it in determination. He had slowly risen in the ranks of the students until he was snatched up by the Plassey Group in one of their talent searches. In seven short, busy years, he went from poor worker to even poorer student to well-paid executive. And now, eight years later, here he was headed back down the corporate ladder unless he somehow found a way to succeed on Alpha Mensae B1 where his predecessors had failed. Sighing, he turned over and went to sleep.

The next morning, he went to the kitchen for breakfast, only to find that Stefanna had come and gone. He grabbed a quick bite and headed downstairs, where he saw her 'unlock' the door by untying the knot. She flipped the little card over to 'Open' in a ritual dating back to days when shopkeepers actually had to wait on customers, then headed back into the storeroom to see what needed restocking. Jaime wasn't surprised that she didn't linger. Not only was it a vain pursuit, but anyone who wanted to buy something could just pick it up and walk out; the cost would be automatically deducted from his account.

"RFID might be old, Jaime mused to himself, "but that doesn't make it obsolete. And stores haven't changed much in the past two hundred years, either.

He spent the morning familiarizing himself with the range of trade goods that they had to offer. There were the usual necessaries of medicine, food, and repair parts, along with a more limited selection of off-world spices, toys, and artwork, as well as the inevitable five rag dolls and a handmade wood carving of a swan. At least, he thought it was a swan; it could have been a duck.

By noon, he was depressed and ravenous. Seeking to cure at least one of the two conditions, he followed Stefanna to the kitchen for lunch. Over a meal of bean, tomato, and domuz, Jaime asked when he might visit the local group of T'nrica to get an idea of what they were like.

"When can you go?" Stefanna asked around a mouthful of domuz. "Any time you want to. Their lodge is just about ten klicks outside town. Or mebbe I should say that the town is ten clicks away from their lodge, since they were here first."

"How do I get there? Can an autocab take me?"

"Nope. The trails are OK, but the cars ain't worth crap once you leave the town. You've got two choices. You can walk, which won't take but three, four hours each way. Or you can ride a bike, which will get you there in an hour but you'll have to ditch it outside the lodge; they don't hold with our machines. They call them 'ya'vru', whatever the hell that means." Stefanna gestured and Jaime's idjit beeped.

"The map's loaded. Don't get lost or go off the path. There's some seriously nasty snakes out in those woods, not to mention the spiders." With that, she abandoned him to his fate and went back to work in the store.

Jaime recycled the lunch dishes and then went to the back of the store. The bike rack was in the usual location by the rear entrance along with the charging station that made sure each bike was fully energized and ready to go. There were three bikes in the twenty-space rack; either the bike franchise was the one thriving trade on this planet or, more likely, Plassey had never seen fit to ship more than three cycles to such a marginal world in the first place. Given the choice of grimy, grimier, and grimiest, Jaime took the least decrepit bike from its rack and headed down the town's main and only street, bound for the forest he could see in the distance.

Once out of town, the road quickly degenerated into a trail, and not a very well-traveled one at that. Most of Jaime's attention was on following the map and not falling off the bike when it ran into one of the frequent bumps. As a result, his impression of the plains between the town and the lodge were fragmented.

Every so often he'd pass a group of squat bushes that looked like rain barrels covered in feathers; according to his idjit, they were bt'kisi. When he accidentally got too close to one of them, he discovered that the "feathers" were actually sharp fronds that left nasty scratches. A few of the bt'kisi had pine-cone-like seed pods as long as his arm sticking straight up from the center of the fronds.

The main ground cover was a spongy moss intermixed with gr'ltiotu, a creeping fern-like plant. None of it looked promising. There weren't many insects about, but the bushes and tall, tree-like met'xya were filled with M'mod's equivalent of birds. Descended from the something that looked more like an alligator than a dinosaur, aviforms on M'mod looked like what Disney would have drawn if the Fantasia crocodiles had worn feathered capes and flown instead of danced. Despite that, they swooped through the lime-green sky with a grace and beauty that captured the eye.

As Jaime rode farther from the town, the plains turned into hills with small creeks lined with bottle-brush dong'su sprouts and whip-thin reeds wriggling between them. Though the creeks all lacked bridges, the trail was clear. Near a few of the creeks he saw what he took to be man-sized boulders covered with mosses in a riotous array of colors. It wasn't until he saw one of the 'boulders' turn at the sound of his bike's motor and look at him that he realized he was looking at a T'nrica; his first impression was of a caiman wearing a gorilla suit and turkey feathers.

As Jaime passed the creek, he turned to stare at the native and paid no attention to the trail before him. It took less than a minute for the inevitable to happen. The bike's front tire hit a rock the wrong way and twisted, dumping Jaime and the bike onto the trail. Jaime quickly jumped up from the ground, looking to see who had observed his graceless landing. One of the natives was looking straight at him; he blinked twice then turned back to whatever he was doing in the creek.

"Great way to make an impression", Jaime chided himself. "All I need is a flashing sign saying 'idiot here'."

"That is not necessary," came a voice behind him, causing Jaime to jump in startlement. Jaime turned to see another native rising from the long reeds that had hidden him from view.

"What—"

"I am Ak'ni," the native said. "You are welcome but you have come on a child's errand. We will not trade."

"That is not yet decided," came another voice. A second T'nrica moved into the clearing; based on the decorations and fabrics of his clothing, he was an elder of the tribe. Turning to Jaime, he bobbed and said "Be welcome here."

"Thank you," Jaime replied before remembering his manners and responding to the traditional greeting with a bob and the required response of "Your welcome lightens my heart."

"A light heart is welcome anywhere," the elder completed the ritual. Turning to Ak'ni, the elder said "He has traveled far and far. He would like to see our house."

Ak'ni stared at the elder for a moment before turning abruptly and leading up the trail to the lodge. Over his shoulder, he called out "Leave your vehicle here. It is ya'vru."

Quickly, Jaime tied the cycle to a bush with some twine and then followed Ak'ni along the trail. The elder brought up the rear, like a parent shepherding small children in a park. As the trail rounded a clump of small trees, Jaime got his first view of the lodge. It was more than one hundred meters long and about fifty meters wide. The lodge was only one story tall with a gently sloped roof that led into what Jaime presumed was a network of cisterns to store rainwater. There were several small doorways scattered along the length of the lodge, but a large entryway was positioned at each of the cardinal directions. In front of each entrance was an elder, surrounded by a group of young T'nrica. The children appeared to be playing, full of the boisterous high spirits that seemed to characterize young sophonts everywhere.

"It's amazing!" Jaime said enthusiastically. "Do you all really live in that lodge?"

"No," Ak'ni said, disdain for the naive question clear in his voice. "Only the elders live there."

"Where do you live?" Jaime asked, piqued by Ak'ni's contempt.

"That is not your concern," Ak'ni replied. "Children live where they are told, as do you."

"I'm sorry if I seemed rude," Jaime began to apologize before Ak'ni cut him off.

"You did not seem rude," Ak'ni said. "You were rude."

"Enough," the elder said before directing his next words at Jaime. "This is the house you came to see."

"It is fantastic," Jaime enthused. "I can't believe that you didn't build it. I wish that there was something we could trade you for this; it would mean so much to our people."

"What do we care for your children?" Ak'ni demanded. "You have houses and cars. We have lodges and k'tir. There is no need to trade."

The elder shot Ak'ni a quelling look; abashed, the younger T'nrica fell silent.

"Do you really breed the k'tir, like we do horses?" Jaime asked eagerly.

"Children and Terrans only know what they see," the elder sighed. "Show him the k'tir."

Ak'ni bobbed to the elder and walked down the trail with a gesture to Jaime to follow. They moved away from the lodge and headed downhill a short distance to a long, low building with wide doors around its base and a paddock on one side. This was obviously the barn and corral for the k'tir, the machines that T'nrica used for daily travel. As they walked into the barn, Jaime saw one technician working on a beast. Its flank was open like a door and the technician was carefully installing some new gears. Once they were in place, he closed the hatch and pressed the side of the k'tir's neck, activating it. The seam where the door was disappeared and the k'tir shuffled its six feet and nuzzled the technician for a sweet. Except for a few switches located on its neck and the two extra legs, the k'tir could almost have been a horse. If Jaime hadn't seen the technician close the side of the k'tir, he would have believed it was a live animal and not a machine.

"We do not need to play your children's game," Ak'ni said, gesturing to the k'tir. "We have what we want. You do not. You should go."

With that, the T'nrica turned and walked back to the lodge, leaving Jaime alone outside the stables. Jaime stood still for a moment, soaking in the sounds of the aviforms and k'tir, before heading back along the trail to where he had left the bike. Pushing the encounter would do no good, he reflected; it would just make Ak'ni more determined to oppose him and might offend the other T'nrica. He decided to accept the small victory of meeting the elder and head home.

Over the next several days, Jaime made a few more scouting trips to the T'nrica lodge but always met the same polite refusals. His desire to learn about them was welcomed; his desire to trade with them was not. He spent time at the spaceport, discussing the locals with the staff there. And he pored over the various ethnology papers that had been published on the T'nricans, trying to understand the locals and their position. It got to the point where his nights were spent in a welter of dreams involving Terrans that turned into clockwork T'nrica and his days were spent adrift on a sea of caff and paperwork.

A week later, Stefanna walked into the back room that served as a combination office and storeroom while Jaime put together the notes for his latest trip. That was not unusual. What was, based on the pattern of wrinkles around her eyes, was that she was smiling.

"We may finally have a break," Stefanna said, taking the mug of caff that Jaime offered. "The biologists, Drinker and Othneil, have called for supplies. They need us to deliver the usual; vitamins, some medicine for dry lung, and a couple of replacement parts."

"Where are they? It shouldn't take a drone long to get it to them," Jaime said, puzzled by her obvious enthusiasm.

"That's the good part," she replied. "They are in Desolation Gorge looking at some odd plant life there. Their base is out of line-of-sight, and besides, drones kick up too much dust to be safe in the canyon."

"Won't the dust keep us from delivering the goods?"

"Not really. The k'tir are bred for it and the locals know how to move safely through the gorge," Stefanna said. "You'll need to take some supplements to block dry lung but you should be OK. And the biologists will pay us to deliver the stuff by hand. It ain't much, but it is as close to a profit as we'll make on this god-forsaken rock."

The chance to earn some money was good, Jaime admitted. But he still didn't understand why Stefanna was so excited about the trip.

"The best part of this is that Ak'ni has agreed to be your guide," she continued. "He'll get you to the gorge and back, safe as houses."

"I don't understand," Jaime said. "Isn't he against dealing with outworlders at all?"

"He is," replied Stefanna. "That's why they chose him. If anything happens to you or the researchers then it will be his fault and his cause will be set back. So he will protect you as if you were his own child. Just do what he says; there are some dangerous critters out there. And you can study him and see if there is anything that he just might unbend enough to buy. If we don't crack this market, we're done."

"Is it really that bad?" Jaime asked.

"It's been ten years since we discovered the Mudders. Five years since Plassey took over the planet. Five years of money pouring into the place and nothing coming back out. If it weren't for the machines, we'd have pulled up and left years ago," Stefanna gestured around the store before continuing. "We have to find a way to get trade started or this place is done. And we have to find it yesterday."

Jaime knew that by "we", Stefanna meant him. He spent the remainder of the day outside the T'nrica lodge, watching the natives as they went about their daily business. For many of them, the main business seemed to be a game played with stones on a board scribbled in the dust. Whatever the rules for the game were, it wasn't short; one match between Ak'ni and a smaller native had started before Jaime arrived and was still in progress when he left at sundown.

Early the next day, Jaime rode a bike over to the lodge, leaving it at the hedge as he had been told. As he wrapped a piece of twine from the bike to a bush, 'locking' it, a drone homed in on him and dropped two bags at his feet. The bags held the supplies that the biologists needed, along with two week's worth of rations for him to eat on the trip. Grunting with effort, he picked up the bags and headed down the trail to the elders' lodge where he had been told to wait for Ak'ni. Passing through the usual crowd of T'nrica children, he stood at the door and called three times for his guide as politeness demanded. At his third call, Ak'ni appeared in the doorway carrying a small satchel that obviously contained his traveling supplies. Nodding to Jaime, he led the way to the stables.

The same technician that Jaime had seen before was inside, preparing their mounts. Pointing to the two machines nearest to the door, the technician spoke a few quick T'nrican phrases. Ak'ni flicked his hands in agreement and clipped his satchel to bolts placed between the second and third set of legs. He then turned to Jaime and stood, silent. After a moment, Jaime realized that Ak'ni was waiting for his bags so that they could be attached to the k'tir. Jaime handed over the two bags and observed carefully as Ak'ni linked them to his mount. Ak'ni then climbed up onto his k'tir and watched impassively as Jaime struggled into the saddle built into his mount.

Jaime settled into his seat and Ak'ni flicked a switch and headed his k'tir out the door; the other mount followed automatically. Ak'ni led the way to the left, moving toward a trail that wound eastward through the forest. The k'tir's hooves were silent on the fronds padding the trail, and aviforms twittered from the drooping fronds of the tall met'xya trees. Ak'ni scanned the trees from time to time. Jaime ignored Ak'ni's unexplained actions and instead concentrated on the k'tir.

Their mounts were controlled by a set of reins almost identical to those used on Earth; Jaime wondered if they might be able to use those as a trade item. Thanks to its six feet, the k'tir's ride was smooth and not as jarring as a ride on a Terran horse would have been. But the k'tir's engine ran much more efficiently than a horse's digestive system ever could. The inevitable exhaust came out the predictable place but was less frequent and much less noisesome than a horse's manure. Transport like this would revolutionize cities, assuming that he could ever find anything to trade for it. Lost in his thoughts, Jaime failed to notice when the forest gave way to scrub and open fields.

The morning passed in an awkward yet comfortable silence as they rode across rolling hills that were covered with low brush; the purple gr'ltiotu and yellow pollen faded into a haze at the edge of their vision.

Stunned by the sere beauty of the land ahead, Jaime kept his silence, trying to take it all in as he waited awkwardly for Ak'ni to say something. But Ak'ni's taciturn face suggested that he found the silence as restful as it was unexpected. The morning's silence was broken only once, as they passed through a grove of trees, each with a single, colorful flag tied to it.

"What are those?" Jaime asked, pointing to the streamers snapping in the wind.

"Byr'klari," Ak'ni replied. "Each marks a tree where a Ma'uk has gone to his ancestors."

"Do they mean anything special?"

"The symbols on each byr'klari tell one of our stories, one that was important to the T'nrica. Every time it waves in the wind, the T'nrica tells his story. When his story has been learned, the byr'klari falls apart and he is released to join the ancestors. Though we are sad that we will no longer hear him tell his tale, we are happy that he has gone on to a better life."

"Thank you."

For a long time after they had passed the grove, Jaime could hear the byr'klari cracking in the wind. By the time that Ak'ni brought the two travelers to a stop by a brackish pool, they had grown used to the silence and were comfortable in each other's company. Ak'ni pointed at the pool and said just one word, "lunch". Together, the two dismounted, Ak'ni somewhat more gracefully.

Jaime pulled out an analyzer and went to the pool. The water showed unusually high amounts of dissolved salts but no major parasites. A quick pass through his canteen filter took care of the salts but did nothing for the water's warm temperature. Jaime's first mouthful tasted like warm piss and he almost spat it out. He kept drinking only because he knew that he needed to replace the water lost through the morning's ride. Ak'ni looked on and blinked, amused by Jaime's reaction, then scooped up a cupful of water to drink himself.

They tethered their mounts where they could reach the water to drink, but not so close that they could step into the pool and foul it. Ak'ni looked closely at a met'xya for several moments before sitting in its shade. Jaime pulled out a ration cube from his saddlebags and went to join him in the shade. As Jaime unwrapped the rat cube and took a bite, he reflected on the inevitable taste of vitamins pressed in sawdust that survival rations carried. Ak'ni blinked again at Jaime's grimace and offered him a piece of travel bread. Jaime sniffed it, then popped it in his mouth. If anything, it was worse than the rat cube. It was dry, tough, and tasteless. In return, Ak'ni accepted a ration cube. After one bite, he gave it back to Jaime.

"Your food tastes worse than ours," Ak'ni said.

Jaime laughed. "I thought the same thing. Yours tastes worse than ours!"

"Maybe they both taste worse."

"Could be. Road food never tastes good," Jaime agreed. On an impulse, he continued, "I've seen your people playing a game with circles and stones. Can you teach it to me?"

"Why do you want to learn m'cala?" Suspicion warred with surprise on Ak'ni's face and Jaime felt a quick surge of pride that he was starting to recognize the alien's moods. "Terrans do not play. There is no trade in it."

"Because I want to know more about you and your people," Jaime said. "And you are wrong. Everyone plays, even Terrans. Maybe I can teach you one of our games in return."

"Sit," came the reply. "We will play."

Swiftly, Ak'ni drew a circle on the ground between them and cut it into quarters with slashing straight lines. Where the lines intersected the circle, he drew a smaller circle. On the side nearest him, he added four circles in each quadrant. Finally, he finished by drawing three circles in each of the quadrants on Jaime's side. Pulling a pouch off of his belt, he opened it to reveal a heap of small, smooth stones. Working his way around the larger circle, Ak'ni placed three stones in each of the smaller ones. Gesturing at the game, he began to explain it.

"This is m'cala. All play it but not all play the same game. Children play an easy game. Young men play a hard one. And old men play the most difficult game of all. The big circle, that is our short year."

"Short year? What do you mean?" asked Jaime.

"When Ma'uk circles M'mod, that is a short year," Ak'ni explained. "When M'Mod circles am'Utu, that is a long year."

"Am'Utu?"

In reply, Ak'ni pointed silently at Alpha Mensae, then continued to explain the game board on the ground between them. "The winter is here. Then come the eight parts of spring, here. Then summer, here. And then comes the eight parts of fall. And then we start again."

Staring at the makeshift board, Jaime suddenly understood. Each circle marked three days in the M'modan year and the stones were the days. It wasn't just a game; it was also a calendar!

Blinking at the look of sudden comprehension in Jaime's eyes, Ak'ni continued his explanation.

"You are on the children's side. You go first. Pick up the stones in a circle, then move like Ma'uk across the board. Drop a stone in each circle. When you are out of stones, stop. If your circle has four stones, take them."

Jaime reached out and picked up the stones from the third circle. Working his way counter-clockwise around the board, following the path that Ma'uk took in the sky, he dropped a stone in each circle. In the final circle, he scooped the four stones up and placed them near himself as he had seen the children do. Ak'ni blinked and made his move. Silently, they played the game, taking turn after turn. The game itself lasted much longer than Jaime thought it would; after more than an hour, he finally captured the last piece.

"Hah! I did it!" Jaime said, triumphantly. Slowly, suspicion crept in. "Did you let me win?"

"No," Ak'ni replied. "We played different games."

"I don't understand."

"You played the child's game. I played the old man's game. Only a child thinks that you win by taking away all of the pieces. A young T'nrica knows more; he tries to make the other player take the last piece and lose. But an adult knows the most. He plays so that the game can continue, even if he loses," Ak'ni looked directly at Jaime before finishing. "Terrans play a children's game."

Stunned into silence, Jaime watched as Ak'ni put the stones back into his pouch and stood up.

"The trail continues," Ak'ni said, gesturing toward the k'tir. The two got back into their saddles and continued, Jaime staring thoughtfully at the countryside as they passed. Gradually the rolling hills and scattered groves of met'xya gave way to flatlands and sparse scrub full of low growing creepers and spiky bushes that had leaves in a riot of colors. Near some of the bushes was a small weathered stone-and-mud cairn. The top of most of the cairn was gone, leaving a hollow filled with water; the air nearby would be filled with the humming of thousands of insects who used the pool as a breeding ground. Near one bush, the air was silent; with a gesture, Ak'ni led them carefully around the unseen danger.

At times the rolling grassland and vast open spaces almost convinced Jaime that he was on a large planet and not a small moon. But the view of Ma'uk in the sky and the sudden onset of evening reminded him that, large as it was, M'mod still had less room than even one of Terra's continents. As the sky turned a bright purple, Ak'ni turned toward another oasis of stately met'xya and low bt'kisi. As before, he carefully searched each tree before finally nodding.

"We will stay here tonight."

"Why did you look at the trees?" Jaime asked, remembering Ak'ni's behavior at the other oases.

"Snakes," he replied. For a moment Jaime thought that Ak'ni was simply pulling his leg, much as a Terran might tease a young child on a snipe hunt. But then he remembered Stefanna's warning and checked his idjit's entry on M'modan snakes. Like their Terran equivalent, M'modan snakes came in sizes ranging from small worms to enormous constrictors big enough to devour large grazing beasts; Jaime stared fascinated at one particularly gory video of a domuk being swallowed whole before quickly moving on.

When he saw the entry on the met'xya snake, Jaime realized that Ak'ni wasn't joking. Ranging up to two meters in length, the met'xya snake was one of the deadliest animals on the planet. Short-tempered and brutish, the beast would hide in met'xya limbs and use the twenty-centimeter-long sting in its tail to kill its prey; a particularly nasty venom would do the trick for any animal that survived the blood loss. Despite Ak'ni's reassurances, he moved his bedroll to the side of the fire furthest from the met'xya.

After another dinner of barely palatable field rations (neither one offered to share this time), Jaime looked into the sky and asked if Ak'ni's people told campfire stories.

"Campfire stories?"

"Yes, it is a tradition on Terra," Jaime explained. "When you go camping at night, you take turns telling stories. Sometimes they are intended to scare the others. Sometimes they are supposed to be funny or teach children about history. It is one way that we trade ideas and learn from each other."

"Would you like to trade stories, then?" Ak'ni asked.

"Yes," Jaime replied. "It is the best kind of trade; we both gain something new without losing anything."

"What story will you tell?" Ak'ni asked.

"My story is an old one that was told by a great teacher many thousands of years ago. My grandfather told it to me when I was a child." Jaime settled himself by the fire as he told his story, his mind half on memories of his grandfather. "Once there were magic spirits in every forest and every stream. Sometimes the spirits would help those who had need of aid. It so happens that one day a woodcutter was in the forest, chopping down trees to sell for firewood, when his ax slipped out of his hands and fell into the deepest part of a nearby stream. The woodcutter could not swim and had nothing to reach the ax with, and so it was lost to him. Upset and saddened by his loss, the woodsman cried out in sorrow.

"While the woodcutter bemoaned his loss, the god Hermes came by. Hermes asked the woodcutter why he was crying and the woodcutter explained that without the ax, he wouldn't be able to feed his family or give them firewood to keep them warm that night. Out of pity for the woodcutter, Hermes dove into the stream and immediately surfaced with a silver ax in his hand. The woodcutter thanked Hermes for his effort but refused the ax, saying that it wasn't his. Hermes dove into the water a second time and brought up a golden ax. Again the woodcutter thanked the god for his help but refused the ax. Hermes dove into the water a third time and this time he brought up the woodcutter's ax. Overcome with joy, the woodcutter stammered his thanks. Hermes was so pleased with the woodcutter's honesty that he gave him the other two axes as well.

"The next day, the woodcutter told everyone he could of Hermes' kindness. While most of the woodcutter's friends praised Hermes for his generosity, one became jealous of the woodcutter's good fortune and decided to trick Hermes. The next day, the friend went to the woods and dropped his ax in the water where the woodcutter had been. As before, Hermes heard the cries and stopped to see what the problem was. When he heard that the friend had lost an ax, he dove into the water and soon arose with a silver ax. The woodcutter's friend called out that it belonged to him and reached eagerly for his prize. But Hermes knew that the fellow was lying and tossed the ax back in the water where it made such a splash that it soaked the liar. When he got back to the village, everyone made fun of him for trying to trick a god. 'Don't you know?' they asked him 'Honesty is the best policy!'"

Ak'ni sat still and blinked for a moment before saying "That was a funny story. Are all Terran stories like that?"

"Many of them are," Jaime said. "What about T'nrica stories?"

"Some are funny. Some are not. I will tell the story that every T'nrica child knows, but few live," Ak'ni said. Humming a chant for a few minutes, Ak'ni then told his tale. "I will tell of the great love between Taar the vicious and Ma'uk the gentle. Taar is vicious and cruel. She rends and tears and destroys in her passion. Ma'uk is gentle and kind. He guides and guards the children and protects them from danger. But Ma'uk loves Taar. And Taar loves Ma'uk. Ma'uk hates the way that Taar rips and kills without thinking; if it were not for Ma'uk, Taar would eat her own children. So Ma'uk hides from Taar for half the year, protecting the nest while she ravages the world. But Ma'uk's love is too great. And Taar's love is too strong. Slowly she turns toward him, coming closer every evening. Night by night, they embrace; day by day, Ma'uk builds a nest to hold their future. Finally, it is Ma'uk who is the ravager for three joyful nights. Then Taar places her eggs in the nest that Ma'uk has made. But soon the heat of her blood calls her and she runs away from Ma'uk, leaving him a little farther behind each morning until finally Taar and Ma'uk stand alone once more, one ruling the day and one protecting us in the dim."

"Ma'uk—that is your name for the planet you orbit, right?" Jaime asked.

"Yes. We are children of Ma'uk and Taar," Ak'ni replied.

"Then where is Taar? Is it your sun?"

"No," Ak'ni said in gentle rebuke. "am'Utu is the sun. Taar is the sun's sister."

It took Jaime a moment to translate the meaning from the literal words to the underlying concept. If Alpha Mensae was am'Utu, then the sun's sister Taar must be its red dwarf companion.

"Your story—is it true?" Jaime asked, excited by his new-found understanding of the T'nrica.

"It is as true as life itself," Ak'ni replied. "We should sleep now. Tomorrow will be long."

They were back on the trail early the next morning following a quick breakfast. Just like the day before, neither spoke much, preferring silence to inconsequential chatter. As they rode, the landscape slowly changed from low hills covered with moss and gr'ltiotu to dry, flat lands with clusters of plants betraying entrances to arroyos. Unlike the day before, the two no longer felt like strangers. Instead, a bond of friendship was beginning to grow despite their very different backgrounds. For the first time in a long time, Jaime didn't feel alone.

Again they stopped at noon to eat lunch and play the game that Ak'ni had taught Jaime. This time, Jaime was able to stretch the game out for nearly two hours. When the game concluded, Ak'ni bobbed at Jaime as if he were an elder.

"You begin to play an adult's game," was all he said, but the praise warmed Jaime.

The vista continued to change as they moved through the dry, dusty region. By the time they stopped for the night, the low, rolling hills had given way to a flat, featureless prairie covered with low ferns and lichens in tight clumps. They made their camp near a clump of met'xya huddled around a wan little spring that trickled barely enough water to wet the ground. Remembering the tree snakes, Jaime joined Ak'ni in scanning the trees before settling in for the night. As Alpha Mensae set, Ak'ni pointed to a dark blotch on the horizon. "That is the gorge."

By mid-morning the next day, Jaime and Ak'ni had reached the gorge. It stretched down into the ground like the claw marks of some great beast. Jaime's idjit showed a route that twisted like an orange snake with a broken back across a dun-colored topographic map. But the twisting and turning path through the towering walls of friable sandstone looked much different from ground-level. The narrow passage through ten-story-high multi-colored walls wove back and forth, allowing no more than a few meters of vision before being cut off by yet another outcrop of unstable sand and rock. Just brushing against a wall was enough to start a small landslide; the tortuous path meant that such encounters were inevitable. And every landslide released a cloud of dust that took an hour or more to dissipate in the tiny, windless canyons.

Within an hour, Jaime and his k'tir were coated with sweat and rainbows of dirt. Even Ak'ni was smeared with light streaks where he had brushed against the rock walls in his passage. The trip slowed to a crawl as they worked their way deeper into the maze of channels and blind canyons. Well before noon, Jaime had lost all sense of direction. Though the sun, a bright yellow orb in a lime-green sky, provided some aid, it was only visible in short glimpses in between the clouds of dust raised by their passage. And the gas giant was even less useful, lying close to the horizon in the late spring season. But Jaime was grateful for small mercies; if this had been summer, then Ma'uk would have provided light during the period called 'dim' by the natives, but the temperatures would have soared to well over 45°C in the day. Given the lack of water and the omnipresent dust, Jaime doubted that anyone could survive the canyon in summer. If it weren't for the possibility of unique plants and animal life, the biologists wouldn't have been there at all.

That evening, they camped in an intersection of where four small canyons met a fifth, larger one. There was a thin trickle of water from the canyon on the furthest right; it fed into a small stream that meandered through the main canyon. Jaime saw faint water marks on the canyon walls, showing where spring flooding had filled the canyon bed. As had become their custom, the two quickly took care of the k'tir before starting a small campfire; next to the campfire, Jaime drew a m'cala board. As they ate their dinner, they played yet another game breaking the companionable silence only to share memories of their childhoods. Jaime was continually fascinated by Ak'ni's stories of how young T'nrica were raised. For his part, Ak'ni was often shocked by Jaime's stories of life in the slums.

"Why do your elders permit such things?" Ak'ni asked after one tale about the time that Jaime's rooftop vegetable garden was looted.

"Our elders aren't much better than the rest of us, I'm afraid," Jaime said.

"Then how can they be elders?"

Jaime had no good answer for that question.

The next morning, they rode down the canyon, which quickly grew in size. It had been just five meters across where they had camped and less than two meters in some of the side canyons. Now, after a half day's hard ride, it was more than thirty meters across. In some places the stream meandered from side to side, forcing them to splash through the shallow water. But for most of the length, it hugged one wall that was noticeably steeper than the other. And as the canyon widened, it became straighter. Now there were places where Jaime could see as far as a kilometer downstream, though the fine grit underfoot still raised dust clouds with every step. From time to time they would pass a section where eddies in the seasonal stream flow had worn down the canyon walls, creating pockets large enough to hold an T'nrica lodge. The pockets were usually filled with low scrub and stubborn met'xya trees with deep roots to help them resist the floods.

Soon they came to a wide section where a small research hut stood in the middle of a clearing filled with stumps. Built with a short adobe wall from native materials topped by a geodesic dome ten meters across, the hut was quick to build and inexpensive to transport yet roomy enough for exploration parties like this one. As Ak'ni and Jaime brought their mounts to a halt by the hut's entrance, the two residents stepped out. Jaime's idjit beeped and labeled the shorter man as Edward Drinker and the taller one as Charles Othniel.

"Hello!" Drinker said. "Did you bring our supplies?"

Behind him, Othniel rolled his eyes and held out his hand in greeting. "I'm Charlie. That's Drinker. Please excuse his manners; he's been waiting for this new equipment for some time."

Jaime smiled at Charlie and patted the saddlebag in front of him. "We've got everything you asked for right here," he said. "Just give us a moment to get settled, first."

"Of course."

Jaime and Ak'ni both dismounted and led their k'tir to the stream bubbling across the sand on the far side of the canyon. They hobbled the steeds and then Jaime piled the saddlebags holding the vitamins, dry lung medicine, and replacement parts on the ground before starting on the bags with his travel supplies. Ak'ni gave his head a slight shake and Jaime desisted, leaving his bags still attached to the k'tir

"They seem like children," Ak'ni said disapprovingly.

"I think that they are just excited to see someone new; they've been in the gorge for nearly six months now," Jaime replied. Picking up the delivery bags, he headed back over to the hut where the two researchers waited, one more patiently than the other. As he handed the bags over, his idjit chirped confirming the delivery. "Here you go."

"Thank you," Charlie said. "We really needed those parts. We've just located some interesting plants that might be worth exporting and naturally the portable SEM broke down."

"Where are the vitamins?" Drinker interrupted, looking at Ak'ni with a smirk. "They won't help you become an elder, you know."

Ak'ni stared at the two researchers for a moment and then turned and walked back to the k'tir without saying a word.

"Well, it will be a long year before we see him again," Drinker said.

"Yes, but we'll need more supplies in a short year," Charlie countered. "Perhaps Jaime here will be familiar enough with the area by then to deliver them without it helping."

"Don't call Ak'ni an it!" Jaime snapped, upset for his friend's sake even though he wasn't quite sure why Ak'ni had been so offended. "He's a person, just as much as you or me!"

"You misunderstand," came Drinker's calm reply. "Ak'ni is a person. It is also an it, although perhaps Xe might be better."

"No, that's what the Cetians use, and they reproduce by fission," his partner disputed. "Maybe Che?"

"I like that! Or maybe we'll have to develop a new word, suitable for this world," Drinker smiled and turned back to Jaime. "The T'nrica have three sexes. The lucky ones go through all of them. The children, like Ak'ni, are neuter until they are given a drink that brings on the change to female. Over a short year, the bachelor becomes female. Unfortunately, that involves a lot of changes to the hormonal system and the new female has to bulk up in preparation for egg-laying; she has to eat quite a lot in a very short time and becomes highly territorial and aggressive."

"So much so that they are willing to fight anything that comes within their territory. Think of it as the mothering instinct on steroids," injected Charlie.

"Their biology doesn't have steroids," objected Drinker.

"It's an analogy," Charlie said with the patience of long practice. "Quit being a pedant and tell him the rest of the story."

"Once each long year Taar shows up in the sky," Drinker continued. "That's when the short-year winter triggers mating. The female then guards the nest for three short years, until the children hatch. Once they hatch, she moves them into the shade of a met'xya and wanders off into the plains; the elders gather up the children and adopt them into their group."

"What happens to the female?" Jaime asked.

"She gorges again and the combination of food and changing light signal that it is time to change into a male. If the T'nrica survives the change into a male, he goes to the nearest lodge and joins their council of elders and helps to choose the lucky bachelors for the next long year."

"What do you mean 'if he survives'?" Jaime demanded.

"It isn't an easy process. It takes several short years and can leave the T'nrica insane, crippled, or dead if she doesn't get the right food and enough of it," Charlie explained. "We still don't know exactly what they need to eat, but we do know that it is relatively rare. That's why they have such a steep population pyramid. Surely you noticed it?"

"There were lots of little kids at the lodge and plenty of older ones like Ak'ni," Jaime said. "And only a few elders. But I always assumed that the elders were out doing business, trying to arrange deals, that sort of thing."

"No, you only saw a few elders because there only are a few elders. Every year, only two or three young in each lodge are selected to become female; half of them die during that transition. And of the survivors, only one in three will be able to become an elder. It is safer for them to remain part of the younger cohort, but they cannot be part of the ruling group unless they take that risk."

Jaime's shock at the idea was evident. Turning to look at Ak'ni as the T'nrica prepared the k'tir for the ride back, he asked "So Ak'ni's choices are to risk dying or to remain a child? That's horrible!"

"No, it is just how things evolved on this world," Drinker said placidly. "And it looks as if your friend wants to leave."

"I don't blame him," Charlie said. "You've been your usual charming self. Jaime, we'll see you in about thirty days when we need some more supplies. In the meantime, please take these plant samples back and put them in our storage locker."

Absentmindedly, Jaime took the package of samples and shook the researchers' hands then headed back to the stream. As he came up to Ak'ni, the T'nrica looked up from working on the k'tir and bobbed an apology for his brusqueness before remounting. Jaime bobbed solemnly back before getting onto his steed. The two rode back the way they came, not even looking behind to watch the two researchers as they re-entered their hut.

It took a hard ride that extended well into the night, but the two made it back to their camp from the previous night before stopping. Though Alpha Mensae was no longer visible, Ma'uk provided a dim glow from reflected light that was just enough for them to see by. Silently they laid out the camp under the met'xya, just as before, except this time Jaime didn't draw the game board.

"Will we not play m'cala tonight?" Ak'ni asked.

"I thought you might want to talk instead," Jaime said. "I know that Drinker acted like a child, and I am sorry that he upset you."

"You are not his elder," Ak'ni said gruffly, turning to look for fuel for the fire. As he moved from tree to tree picking up deadfall, the T'nrica hummed a faint song that Jaime recognized as the chant from the first night that they had swapped tales. Jaime closed his eyes for a moment in sympathy for his friend's dilemma. As a result, he didn't see Ak'ni stoop under a low tree to pick up a large piece of wood, nor did he see the tree snake that had been lying under the log stab out with its tail, piercing Ak'ni's chest. But the T'nrica's short chuff of pain brought Jaime to full alert. Running over to the tree where Ak'ni lay, deadwood scattered around, Jaime looked down, panic-stricken.

The tree snake coiled back up, its stinger retracting into its tail, its deadly work done. Ak'ni lay still on the ground with his rapid, panting breath providing the only evidence of his distress. After a moment of indecision, Jaime grabbed Ak'ni's ankles and slowly pulled him away from the hissing tree snake. Once Ak'ni was safely away from the killer, Jaime pulled out his idjit and frantically punched up the code for tree snake venom.

Naturally, all of the information was slanted toward Terrans and what to do. It boiled down to a simple choice: find help or die. The longest a Terran had lasted after being stung was two days; it was at least three days' ride back to the lodge where Ak'ni might be treated. Though the researcher's hut was less than half a day's ride, they wouldn't have the antivenin for a T'nrica, and even if they did, none of the vehicles on the planet could reach them; that was why he'd had to ride the k'tir in the first place. Ak'ni's only hope was if Jaime could transport him to the flatlands above and get a company car to pick them up and take Ak'ni back to his people for treatment.

Moving away from the tree where Ak'ni had been stung, Jaime checked the rest of the met'xya grove carefully for more tree snakes. Seeing none, he chopped down the longest two boles he could find and stripped the leaves and limbs, leaving him with two poles. He lashed one on either side of Ak'ni's k'tir and then tied a blanket between the poles, forming a crude travois. He put Ak'ni onto the blanket and tied him in place. After looping the reins to Ak'ni's k'tir to his, Jaime headed back toward the highlands.

Instead of the two days it took to reach the prospectors' camp going into the canyon, it took Jaime four days to find his way out of the maze of arroyos and blind canyons to reach the uplands once more. The trip back up and out of the canyon was a slow-motion tour of Hell. Despite the idjit's directions and Jaime's best intentions, they turned down one wrong passage after another. The passages were too close to turn around in, so each wrong turn meant that Jaime was forced to untie the travois and manhandle it back up the trail before pushing Ak'ni's k'tir and his back and into the right passage by main force and before hitching everything back together again. After each stop, Jaime would take a quick sip of water and attempt to get Ak'ni to do the same. Even though Jaime started each day's travel before the false dawn of Ma'uk and continued until well after Alpha Mensae had settled in the western sky, they only made a few kilometers each day. The trip stretched on, agonizingly.

During the last day, he had stopped every hour or so to check on Ak'ni's breathing which had become stertorous and labored. Pushing himself and the k'tir as hard as he could, they finally reached the last slope. Climbing out of the gorge into the dim light of Ma'uk, Jaime wiped his brow and looked across the wild plains stretching to the horizon past the last canyon wall.

The gentle breeze that caressed his face was like a promise of heaven and the scent of trees in the distance was a reminder of home. The k'tir slowly stepped onto the ferny ground beside him and stood patiently, panting slowly in the slow breeze. Suddenly his idjit jiggled, signaling that it had re-established contact with the main store. Frantically, he punched down on the communications stud, hoping against hope that Stefanna would pick up. After a moment, the view-screen cleared and her avatar stared at him.

"Do you know what time it is?" the avatar demanded; Stefanna had obviously programmed it with her own brusque personality. "This had better be damned important!"

"It is! Ak'ni was stung by a tree snake in the gorge. I need an immediate pick-up!" Jaime fought to keep from screaming the words; arguing with an avatar was worse than useless.

"Are you in physical danger?" When he shook his head, Stefanna's avatar gave a tight smile and continued. "Because they are not trading partners, company policy is to let the Mudders take care of their own. It is two in the morning. Unless you are in physical danger, I cannot wake Stefanna. I will tell her you called when business hours begin in eight hours."

"But that will be too late!"

"That is not my concern. No further calls from your unit will be accepted until business hours begin. Good night."

Staring at the idjit in his hand, Jaime fought the urge to stomp it into the ground, to smash it into a thousand pieces. Ak'ni's only chance now was for Jaime to push the k'tir as far as they could go and hope that Stefanna would get the message and send a rescue car as soon as she got to work. Climbing wearily back onto his mount, Jaime pointed them toward the T'nrica camp and started on a steady, ground-eating trot. His instinct was to push the k'tir as fast as they would go, but not only would galloping along the hot and dusty plains destroy the k'tir before they had covered more than a few klicks, it would throw Ak'ni from the travois. For the moment, a trot was the best that they could do even if it meant that the earliest they could get to the camp would be tomorrow afternoon.

The hours passed by and Jaime fell into a rhythm that came to feel like a nightmare. Every hour he would stop the k'tir to give them a little water and to check on Ak'ni. He'd bathe his friend's face with clean water, check on the wound, even though there was nothing more he could do about it, and start riding again. Each time he stopped, he dismounted a little less gracefully. Each time he started again, it took more time to get back into the saddle and start the ride.

The plains moved past with painful slowness. The low purple gr'ltiotu fronds gave way to scrubby b'kisi with isolated clumps of met'xya around the small oases that made the land habitable. Three times he detoured to reach one of the life-giving springs and refresh their water supplies. On the way out with fresh k'tir and an experienced guide, it had taken three days to cover the hundred klicks between the T'nrica lodge and Desolation Gorge. Jaime prayed that he wouldn't have to make the ride back alone.

As the k'tir moved along, Jaime found himself slipping into a waking doze. He'd remain just awake enough to keep his mount on the right track but kept slipping in and out of a light sleep that enervated rather than refreshed. It was a sign of his exhaustion that he didn't even flinch when the idjit chimed, signaling that Stefanna had at last gotten his message. With fingers numbed from gripping the reins, he fumbled out the idjit and turned on the communicator.

"You look like crap," Stefanna said without preamble. "You'd better stop and get some rest. You've already covered twenty klicks."

"I can't," Jaime replied. "I have to get Ak'ni back home."

"About that," she began, her reluctance at passing on bad news obvious even to Jaime's sleep-deprived senses. "It just isn't going to happen. The farthest that the autocabs can go is fifty klicks and that's on paved road; you're eighty klicks away. We don't have any hovercraft or aircraft and the next ship isn't due for a month and a half. You want my advice, slow down and get back when you can."

"But Ak'ni will die!"

"Not our problem. I sent a messenger to his lodge. They heard him out then said that Ak'ni was in Taar's care, whatever the hell that means." Taking pity on Jaime, she looked him directly in the eyes. "We can't get to you. They won't. There's no sense in killing yourself over this. Just get back as soon as you can, but don't take any chances."

Jaime nodded at her image to show he had heard even if he didn't agree, then closed the circuit and started the k'tir moving again. As he picked up the pace and headed out on the plain, he heard a noise behind. Turning around, he saw Ak'ni go into convulsions. Jaime quickly stopped the travois and gave him what few comforts that were available. But water and calm words could only do so much for his friend. After a final set of convulsions, Ak'ni muttered a single word, then turned his face to the horizon and died. Overcome, Jaime sat by the travois and sobbed while Taar shone down on the scene. Finally, Jaime shook himself. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he looked at the T'nrican's suddenly shrunken body.

"M'cala , my friend. I will continue to play the game."

Wearily, Jaime crawled back onto his mount. With a flick of the reins, he started the small caravan back into motion. Knowing that the k'tir could find the direct route back better and faster than he could, Jaime slumped in the saddle, giving the beast its head. The k'tir sniffed at the air, turned slightly, and started for home. Jaime stayed in his saddle, not seeing, not eating, and not caring, lost in his memories as the animals slowly plodded their way back to the lodge.

For the next two days, Jaime rode the k'tir from sunup to sundown. From time to time, he'd eat a meal in the saddle, but for some reason he simply wasn't hungry. The same countryside that had fascinated him on the way out passed before his unseeing eyes, changing slowly from prairie to rolling hills to forest. Finally, on the third morning he pulled up in front of the elders' lodge where he and Ak'ni had argued such a short time before. The same elder that had greeted him before stood by the trail, obviously waiting for him. Just as he had done the last time, the elder greeted Jaime with grave courtesy.

"Be welcome here."

Jaime had to clear his throat several times before he could make the reply. Bobbing his head, he said "Your welcome lightens my heart."

"A light heart is welcome anywhere," the elder said. "Taar has protected you. We are grateful for what you have done."

"Ak'ni is my friend. I just wish …" Jaime trailed off, unable to complete the thought. He slid from the k'tir and nearly fell before catching himself on its saddle bags. As he made his way to the travois, other elders came out from the lodge and surrounded the limp bundle that had been his friend just a few days before. Solemnly, they picked up Ak'ni and took him into the lodge. At the door, one of the elders turned and gestured for Jaime to join them inside.

During the next few days, Jaime sat with the T'nrica as they watched over Ak'ni's body. He watched with dull eyes as the elders cleaned it and dressed it in Ak'ni's finest clothes. He watched as the children sang, begging Ak'ni to come out and play one more game with them. He watched as the young men offered Ak'ni choice food and drink and danced of Ak'ni's bravery. And he listened as the elders sang a chant, calling on Ak'ni to be strong and climb quickly to the home of his ancestors.

During the nights, Jaime went back to the store where he worked like a man possessed until he collapsed for a few hours of sleep before getting up in the morning to return to the lodge. The first night, he did his duty by the company, filing the biologists' report on the unusual plants that the T'nrica refused to sell. Once that housekeeping chore was done, Jaime took over the 3D loom, running test program after test program and scowling over the results. His interactions with Stefanna and the spaceport crew became mechanical and rote. Finally, on the morning of Ak'ni's burial, Jaime emerged from the loom bleary-eyed but triumphant. In his hands was a majestic byr'klari, five meters long and covered with glyphs telling the story of Ma'uk and Taar. As he stumbled to the showers to clean up before the ceremony, Jaime found his way blocked by a leathery arm.

"Finally done?" Stefanna asked, concern on her face. "You haven't done anything but work on that thing and sit shiva for the past week."

"Leave me alone," Jaime said, the ragged edge of grief throbbing through his words.

"I will, but I have to tell you something first." Stefanna paused before continuing. With a sigh, she said "The company is giving up; they've decided that Mud is a lost cause. They'll be taking the spaceport crew, the biologists, and me off in three months."

"What about …?" Jaime was too tired to complete the thought.

"I'm sorry," Stefanna said. "They said that you aren't included; I guess they've decided to make you the scapegoat. You can buy your own passage but they won't pay for your transport."

"Fine. Whatever."

Jaime pushed the arm out of his way and stumbled into the shower. After the hot water revived him somewhat, Jaime put on his cleanest jumpsuit, picked up the byr'klari, and went to the lodge to inter his friend. At the end of the ceremony, Jaime hung the flag from Ak'ni's tree as the elders watched silently.

The next few days were quiet. Trade at the store, never good to begin with, became absolutely nonexistent. While they waited for the freighter to arrive, Stefanna inventoried the store by hand and sorted the goods into those that were worth taking to a new colony somewhere and those that were too bulky, too fragile, or just too obsolete to be worth the time and cost of transport. The list of the latter items was depressingly long but Jaime found some solace in the thought that he'd have plenty of those supplies needed for Terrans to live on M'mod. For Jaime had already decided that he'd stay here where his friend had died; he'd even transferred all of his credits to his family. It wasn't enough to get his parents out of the slums, but it could get them into a safer neighborhood.

Each day, after working his six hours at the store, Jaime would climb onto a bike and ride out past the lodge to the grove where Ak'ni was interred. He'd sit in the shade of the tree and listen to the flag flap in the wind. He'd engineered the byr'klari to be light and flexible so that even the slightest breeze caused it to flutter and snap. And he'd watch as the story of Ak'ni's life was painted in bright colors across the sky. From time to time one of the elders would come and sit with him. Content with the silence broken only by the byr'klari, each of them would reflect on its meaning and Ak'ni's life. One day, the elder broke the silence to say "This was to be his year."

Jaime said nothing in reply. What could he say, knowing that his friend had been chosen to undergo the rite of Taar and would have become an elder but for Jaime's arrival?

Every day, Ma'uk moved across the sky and the stars shifted. A short year went by and still Jaime grieved under the flag. Every day, the transport for Stefanna and the others came closer. Stefanna had put up a huge holodisplay calendar in the storefront and took a twisted sort of pleasure in marking off the days until her time on the planet was over.

A week before the transport was due to arrive, an elder came into town carrying a basket. That was unusual enough to draw a group of onlookers but the crowd didn't start to really gather until the elder went into the store. Gob-smacked, Stefanna looked on as the elder went up to Jaime and bobbed his head in greeting.

"Be welcome here," Jaime replied, bobbing in return.

"Your welcome lightens my heart," the elder replied.

"A light heart is welcome anywhere," Jaime completed the ritual. "How may I help the elder of my friend's lodge?"

"Ak'ni's story is told. He has joined his ancestors."

Jaime felt a warmth that he hadn't realized was still possible fill his chest. A tear rolled down his cheek as he bobbed his thanks to the elder for the news.

"Others who died before Ak'ni are still waiting for their story to be told," the elder continued. "Can you help them on their way?"

Looking at the basket for the first time, Jaime noticed that it was filled with the strange plants that had so excited the biologists in Desolation Gorge.

"I must know their stories," Jaime said, excitement rising in his chest.

"We will share that with you," the elder said, gesturing to the basket. "And we will share these with you as well, in trade for your help and the byr'klari."

"Then it is time we played a game together," Jaime said as Stefanna watched in wide-eyed astonishment.

Trade with the T'nrica was no longer a children's game.

THE END

Bio: John E. DeLaughter is a geophysicist, paranomasiac, and world-famous bad sailor. His work has taken him to all seven continents where he always meets the nicest people. Currently retired, he lives on a sailboat with Missy the cat. Among the stories he's had published is "A Fluke So Rare" (October 2018, Aphelion Webzine).

E-mail: John E. DeLaughter

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