Getting the Business on Viriinil

Mel felt his knees go weak at the force of the blast directed at him. He dropped his hand to his belt and fingered his stunwand, which reassured him.

"You have honor, but I want my belongings returned," Mel insisted, using as forceful a tone as he could muster.

The innkeeper bared his teeth, but backed off so that he was not longer in Mel's face. "If your belongings are gone go look for them. It has nothing to do with me."

"All right, I will," Mel said through his teeth.

As he turned to go, the innkeeper called out to him: "The money you put down only pays for two nights, umahn. On second morning from now I want you gone from my tavern."

Mel stalked out of the tavern, seething. The amount he'd paid the bastard should have been enough for four nights at least, the innkeeper was adding insult to injury by cheating him.

After inquiring among passers-by Mel got directions to the headquarters of the city watch. These turned out to be the soldiers of the local ruler, the Ondank, who was (in theory at least) a subordinate of the Taylpat in Yetter. Armed with the knowledge Mel struck out into the streets.

Eystro was hotter and more humid than Yetter had been, and by the time Mel had reached the garrison headquarters he was sweating. By playing on the fact that he was obviously Terran he was able to get past the low-level soldiers to an interview with the captain of what passed for police in the city. In his office Mel was directed to the petitioner's bench in front of the captain's chair.

At this point Mel was forced to uncover his face out of respect, drawing a puzzled stare from the captain.

"I heard that a visiting umahn had arrived, but not that it was a female," the Viriin said.

"I am male," Mel replied firmly.

"You do not look male," the captain said, seeming to struggle with the notion. He gave a sniff and shook his head doubtfully.

Mel decided to ignore the question of his gender and proceed with the main issue and began describing his problem.

The captain sat impassively until he had finished, then said, "What is it you want?"

"I want you to catch the thief and return my belongings to me!" Mel said hotly, then managed to calm himself down.

"By your own words you do not know who the thief is, so how am I to catch him? Also I have only your word that you have lost anything," the captain said.

"I can give you a description of the items in my bag, they are human devices and will look unlike anything else," Mel said patiently. "The thief will likely try to sell them, so if you check known buyers of stolen goods or purveyors of strange objects it should lead you to the rest of my belongings."

The captain grunted. "That would be a great deal of effort. Who would pay for it?"

Mel rolled his eyes up. The bastard wanted a bribe. "I will pay for your efforts, and pay well, but only if my belongings are recovered."

"Promises are not as heavy as gold," the captain observed. When Mel did not answer, the native grunted. "Just so. I will see what can be done."

{}

Mel spent the rest of the day in the markets. There was indeed ulverm for sale, though the price was not that much lower than in Yetter. He got the impression that the stuff came from further inland, but no firmer information.

Returning to the tavern Mel avoided the innkeeper and gave his dinner order to one of the waiters. He'd paid for room and board for two nights and he was definitely going to take full advantage of it. After a meal (immense, by human standards) he asked to bathe. Attendants brought a copper pot into room, one that was probably a hip-bath for a Viriin but was a full-size bathtub for Mel, and filled it with warm water from kettles. Mel gratefully lowered himself in and washed off many day's worth of sweat, salt, and grime. Along with the last of his perfume, he realized once he was finished, but by then it was too late. After that Mel settled into bed, making sure he was still wearing his clothes and belt and putting his boots under his pillow.

The next morning Mel split his time between exploring the town for leads and looking for a new place to stay. It would have to be a much less expensive one this time if he were to make his money last. He ended up deciding on one of the taverns that catered to the caravaneers who brought in goods from the hinterlands. Not only was it cheap, but if ulverm actually did come from inland then he might be able to pick up more information there. He spent his last night in the better tavern, and in the morning moved into his new residence.

Mel continued to spend his days looking for clues about ulverm without making progress other than getting blisters on his feet. He was able to feel smug that he had impressed more native languages than just the Reyt spoken in Yetter, as there were quite a few speakers of Olit among the caravaneers at his tavern. It seemed Olit was the language among the people to the north that provided many tradegoods to Eystro. Did that include ulverm, perhaps? He needed to find out, but was handicapped by having to conserve his remaining cash meaning he was reduced to offering a drink to just one person instead of buying a round for the house.

Unlike the first tavern his new accommodations did not provide in-house bathing, and customers were expected to use the public baths in town. Leaving his last few belongings in the hands of a native attendant was something Mel wasn't willing to risk, so he made do with sponging himself with a little water in his room. As a result he was starting to smell a bit ripe. Fortunately so far no one seemed to take offense.

On the fifth day Mel decided it was time to return to the watch captain and see if any progress had been made on finding his belongings. His money was running low, he seriously needed either his stolen funds back or his comm device to call someone to send him more.

The guards recognized him and let him pass directly to the captain's office this time. That official looked up when Mel came in, grunted a bare acknowledgment of his presence and gestured towards the petitioner's bench.

"I have come to ask about my lost possessions, I expect you have found them," Mel said immediately, trying to get the upper hand in the conversation that followed. He suspected that if his possessions have been recovered the captain was going to hold them for ransom until sufficiently bribed, and Mel hoped to minimize the amount he'd have to spend on this.

The Viriin crossed his arms and glared at Mel, refusing to speak. After an awkward moment Mel realized he had rudely neglected to uncover his face, and did so.

The captain relaxed his posture. "I have many responsibilities, I cannot be expected to chase after your every little whim, small one," he said in a casual voice.

Mel's eyes bulged. He'd been prepared for negotiations and bluster, not casual dismissal! "This is not a whim, as you put it," he said, his voice involuntarily rising in pitch as well as volume. "I am an important trader, I have been robbed of my goods. Not finding the thief will reflect poorly on your city in the eyes of all umahn, not to mention those of the Taylpat in Yetter."

To Mel's surprise, rather than getting angry the captain responded to this by laughing! The xeno rose from his seat and walked towards Mel, which naturally made him tower over the smaller human.

"Really, you shouldn't make such a fuss about things beyond your station, small one," the captain said. "But I know you must be upset, being abandoned by your clan in this way, so I will not correct you further. In fact, I may be able to help you."

Mel was completely lost at this point. This was nothing like any of his prior encounters with a native, nor was it like anything in the virtual training sims. "You will help me, you say?"

"I could be induced to help you," the officer replied. He extended a thick finger and stroked it lightly over Mel's cheek. "You are very esimt, you know. I never expected that in an alien."

Mel's t/c implant, noticing the unfamiliar term, began whispering in his ear: "esimt, likely derived from es, visual, to the eye, and mt, pleasant, tasty. Possible translations include: 'pretty', 'beautiful', 'cute', 'sexy', 'eye-candy'..."

Mel clicked his jaw, shutting off the analysis. Meanwhile the captain's finger had started curiously playing with a lock of Mel's hair.

"What exactly are you suggesting?" Mel said, fighting to keep his voice even and not to cringe.

"Come now, small one. It is clear that you are an abandoned female," the captain said soothingly. "But despite your forward ways I do not believe you are a whore. I could become your protector, all you need do is to demonstrate a little affection."

Mel was more disoriented than ever and getting frightened as well. Not only did the huge xeno believe Mel to be a woman and an "abandoned" one at that, but he was making a pass at him!

"I told you before, I'm male," Mel squeaked.

The captain's hand fell away. "I cannot understand why you are trying to maintain that pretense. It is very obvious you to anyone with senses that you are a woman."

"I tell you I am a man," Mel insisted. "And I want my belongings. Will you help me or do I have to tell the other umahn how poorly I was treated here?"

The xeno turned away and stalked back to his seat. Resuming it, he stared at a point above Mel's head.

"I have nothing to do with your difficulty. I do not see you. Go now," he announced to the air.

Grating his teeth in frustration Mel rose and left.

{}

Walking back to his lodging Mel thought furiously about his options. He had about half the money needed to buy deck passage back to Yetter, where he could access new equipment and resources. Raising the other half was the problem. He could approach one of the local merchants for a loan based on a promise of future business relations, but after his disturbing encounter with the captain he wasn't sure how negotiations would go at this point.

He could sell one of his remaining gadgets, probably his multitool, but that would get Mel in huge trouble with the Alien Sentient Service if it was ever discovered he'd done it. Not to mention the fact that the transaction wouldn't exactly endear Mel to the buyer once it became clear that the device would not work in native hands. A better option might be pawning the multitool, using it as collateral for a loan. If the Assos found out Mel could argue that technically he hadn't broken the prohibition since he fully intended to redeem the pledge once he was in funds again.

Or he could exhibit himself on at a carnival as a sexy alien freak, Mel thought bitterly, shaking his head. He was on edge after the interview, he needed a drink.

When Mel entered the common room of the tavern he noted that a new caravan from the interior must have arrived. The room was half-full of male Viriin still dusty from their journey and the sound of spoken Olit was in the air. Several of them turned and stared at Mel as he crossed the floor, something he was used to due to his small stature compared to the natives.

Mel overheard an shocked voice ask in Olit, "Is that the outlander from another world? A female?" Mel cringed. Why suddenly was everyone assuming he was a different gender? It wasn't like this before.

Reaching the bar Mel ordered a mug of small beer and found a chair over in the corner. At least he could listen in on the conversations around him. Perhaps this new group would be the one that finally gave him a lead on the source of ulverm. Mel lifted his veil and sipped the beer under it, not wanting to expose his beardless face. He was getting stares enough as it was.

After a bit a native approached Mel. He was dusty like the other new arrivals but dressed differently, in what Mel knew was the kit of a desert warrior including the paired knives in chest holsters.

"I am Tela Sar Utana," the Viriin announced with formal politeness in accented Reyt. "And you?"

"Mel Ran Dee," Mel answered, giving the local name-equivalent he'd chosen. "I am honored to meet you."

"And I, you. May I sit?"

"Of course," Mel said.

The native took the chair next to Mel and regarded him. "I pray you will forgive my curiosity," he said, continuing to use great formality. "You are... umahn, yes?"

"I am."

"Ah, I have heard tales, but I have never before seen one of your race for myself. I believed your people dwelt in Yetter alone."

Yes, and now I'm getting a better appreciation of why, Mel thought. "I am a trader, seeking new things that may bring me profit," he said out loud. "What of yourself, Tela Sar Utana? What brings you to Eystro?"

Tela smiled. "Why, the same as yourself, Mel Ran Dee. I am a dealer in valuable things, and I seek out new merchandise to sell for profit. Perhaps we should speak on this matter together."

The native motioned to a waiter and called for two ales, which appeared almost immediately. This was an unusually fast response, Mel speculated that Tela must be an important personage, possibly a richer merchant that usually frequented the tavern. Of course, another possibility was that the staff were afraid of the fierce-looking warrior.

"Drink with me," Tela said, indicating the tall tankard of ale set in front of Mel and raising his own. Mel tried to sip cautiously, but the xeno scoffed at this and insisted Mel take a deep draft like he did. When Mel set the large container down he noted that his mostly-full mug of small beer had been removed by the waiter. Mel shrugged. At least he wasn't paying, and sharing drinks was always a good way to gain information.

The two began talking, starting out with pleasantries before moving off to details of their professions. Tela was rather vague about his exact stock in trade, but that was to be expected of a merchant speaking with someone who could equally be a customer or a competitor. For that matter Mel was certainly not letting the native know right off the bat that his only real interest was in ulverm, and tried to make it seem as if he might be persuaded to purchase a wide variety of native goods for the Terran market.

Over the course of conversation Mel was able to steer the dialogue towards his goal, however, and what he learned was very interesting. The things Tela said sounded as if his native land, Osirana, was rich in ulverm, possibly even a primary source. Mel became excited, this might be exactly the lead he'd been looking for.

Tela on the other hand mostly seemed curious about Terrans and their customs, asking many questions about Mel, his family and associations, and his relationship with the Terrans in Yetter. Mel ended up admitting that he was not a member of any of those "clans," trying without success to explain to the incredulous native that Terran corporations were generally not based on family ties.

As this was going on Mel found himself getting more than a bit drunk. The ale was considerably stronger than the small beer he normally drank, the tankard Tela had ordered for him was enormous and probably held almost two liters, and the native continued to insist that Mel match him drink for drink. At this point Mel would normally have surreptitiously taken a sober-up to rapidly metabolize the alcohol in his system, but of course those had been stolen along with the rest of his medical kit.

"Mel Ran Dee, I like you, but you are being impolite," Tela suddenly announced. "Here we are drinking like two close companions, and you are keeping your face covered."

Mel recalled his encounter with the captain earlier in the day and shuddered. "I like you as well, Tela Sar Utana, but I feel uncomfortable uncovering my face at the moment."

The native glanced about and nodded. "Ah, it is too public, I understand. Ha, we will change that. Besides, I am tired of this city drink, you must taste the wine of my country! Let us leave this place."

Mel blinked, swayed a bit in his seat as Tela rose and seized his shoulder. "I don't know," Mel muttered uncertainly.

"Do you wish to learn more of my country?"

There was only one answer to that, of course. "Yes."

"Then come with me, my friend."

Tela led him out of the tavern. Night was falling as they walked through the streets, Mel stumbling a bit. The native led him to the low-walled court where the beasts and wagons of the caravans were kept, then to a specific wagon.

"Where is Lemo, my worthless servant?" Tela grumbled. "Well, no matter, we will serve ourselves as if we were patrolling the bounds in my homeland."

He rummaged through a pack, brought out a flask and a pair of cups. To Mel's relief these were quite small in comparison to the huge tankards at the tavern. Tela uncapped the flask and neatly poured a dark fluid into the cups he held in his other hand.

"This is siar, and as far superior to that swill they serve in the tavern as the sun is brighter than a candle," Tela announced. "Unveil and we shall drink."

Mel hesitated, but the chance of learning more about a possible source of ulverm was too good to pass up. He unwrapped his head, revealing his face. The native watched closely, his own face bearing an interested, almost calculating, look.

"Very interesting. Your features are odd, yes, but pleasant," Tela mused aloud. "The set of the ears and the shape of your nose is quite unique. Exotic might be the right word. Yes, very exotic."

While glad the xeno didn't sound like has was sexually attracted, Mel felt rather unsettled at having his face described as a curiosity. Tela seemed to realize that Mel wasn't happy, and smiled disarmingly.

"Ah, do not mind me. Here, the siar. As we are traders, let us drink to future profits. May they be high!"

Tela handed over a cup and motioned that they should both drink. Mel took a sip and began to cough. Apparently the people of Osirana had discovered distilling, this stuff was potent!

The native trader laughed. "That's not the way to drink it, my friend. Toss it straight back."

At his urging, Mel gulped the rest as a shot. Warmth filled his stomach and began to spread through his limbs, and in a moment he began feeling quite light-headed. "After I find ulverm there might be a market for this stuff, too," Mel thought.

Looking up at Tela, Mel noticed the Viriin had apparently had just divided into twins. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but now the night was getting much darker and he was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

Mel's last vision before passing out was the tall xeno carefully pouring the contents of his own cup back into the flask. Tela hadn't drank more than a drop of the stuff.

{}

Mel felt terrible. His bladder was full to bursting, his head was pounding and he ached all over. He groaned and opened his eyes. Something was wrong with his vision, too, things were swaying and rocking like he was back on the sailing ship that brought him to Eystro.

Then the floor jarred, bumping Mel up in the air briefly, and he realized it wasn't his eyes that were moving. Things around him actually were swaying. Looking around he realized he was in some sort of wagon that was slowly rolling over rough ground, which was what caused the rocking and bumps. He let out a startled yelp and tried to scramble up, only to find out his wrists were fastened closely together by leather cuffs attached to a short metal chain. Similar cuffs were on his ankles, though the chain there was longer.

Aside from the cuffs he was wearing nothing but a hooded robe of handwoven cloth. Now all his possessions other than the t/c implant were gone!

"Good, the stupid thing awake," a rough voice grumbled. Mel craned his neck and saw a native jumping into what must be the back of the covered wagon.

"Thanking the goddess, I will not now must care-as-an-infant it," the Viriin said, in what must be a dialect of Olit which Mel's t/c implant had not encountered yet.