Either way, by Mozok’s estimation, it would get him out of this escalating bidding war, and there was nothing Marmeth or parliament could really do about it.
He looked back at Voso and gave him a semi-apologetic look, for this decision concerned Voso as well.
No matter. Voso was fiercely loyal and would never disagree with him.
Anyway, he had expressed interest in the Human, and the interest had seemed more carnal than intellectual. He would probably find the idea appealing.
Not that the Human would likely be crazy enough to undertake it.
Mozok turned back to parliament.
“My esteemed and revered representatives,” he began, addressing parliament. “It appears that we have reached a monetary impasse, for BKG is willing to expend a great deal of capital to obtain rights to this land, as am I. As you are aware, our treaties require that any land disputes that cannot be resolved through an exchange of reasonable capital—a limit which has, it would seem, been reached by both parties—then the dispute shall be resolved by an honorable proposal.”
He was pleased that his words had Marmeth knocked, temporarily, off his game.
“I therefore propose,” Mozok continued, knowing that this madman ploy would come as a shock to all, for he had never employed anything like it. He waited as the room rippled with anticipation.
“…Trothplight.”
CHAPTER4
Mina indulged in a final vain checkup of her hair and stole a moment to moisturize her skin and add some color to it before recording her message to Paolo.
She hated that she could not shake habits like those; she had no interest in Paolo, or for that matter, any stinking man, but old habits died hard.
“Good news,” she said cheerfully, after turning on the recorder. “As you suspected, the trillionaire Draquun, that Osolin guy, put up quite a few obstacles. At one point I was sure he was going to outbid us. I’m… sending the details over to you, just waiting on an official translation from our liaison—who, I don’t mind telling you, is pretty—”
Mina interrupted herself. Telling Paolo that Marmeth was a bad liaison would entail telling him why, and she really didn’t need that story getting back to anyone at BKG.
“…uh, good. He’s fine,” she said instead. “But that will take a while, I guess, it has to go through their parliamentary legal… apparatus. Anyway. We reached a maximum capital exchange, like you expected, so a non-capital, uh… I don’t know, arrangement, has been proposed. It’s something called…” Mina looked down at her tablet to read her own notes. “Uh… Trothplight, is the best I can do pronouncing it. Marmeth has explained it to me, it involves an extended stay, sort of like a courting ritual I guess, with this Osolin character… um, here… to last the duration of a natural event.” She looked up at the screen, which only showed her her own self. The messages, transmitted through quantum technology, took several hours to manifest at BKG’s Astrogoda headquarters space station, near the outer edges of the system. “I wasn’t allowed any input into this choice, so they’ve picked this storm that’s coming. I have data on it… seems they can be anywhere from one day to several… years… long. The average is a month. At any rate, I’ve been assured by Marmeth that there’s no negotiation on that front, and this all squares with my cultural and legal training, so… anyway. If I comply with these Trothplight rules, which don’t seem too difficult, it’s just an elaborate courtship ritual that will slow us down, but hey, you told me do what’s necessary. And anyway, it won’t seem like much time to you. At any rate, this was the only way to get it done. So I’m doing it.” She stared at her own face. “That’s it, documents to follow. Make sure you address my compensation questions at the end.”
She ended the message with a flick of her finger.
She had asked Paolo for a greater share—not by much, but enough—of the profits, provided that she completed this task. She was doubting herself a little before sending the message, and she doubted herself more now.
But she was the one who was possibly stuck on this planet, bored to tears, while this Trothplight nonsense happened.
The only reason she felt badly for asking for the money was because, as Marmeth had explained to her, she would basically be on vacation until the storm ended. It was a win-win, he had explained, because she would have been stranded here on Astrogoda-9 for the duration of the storm anyway, if negotiations had continued, and the terms of Trothplight stipulated that she would be required to pass it at Sag Osolin’s residence.
Which was, naturally, spectacular. Most appealing to her was the existence of a vast indoor park with a waterfall, something she wouldn’t have at the crappy hotel she would have been forced to stay at until the storm passed. Marmeth had assured her that it was a spectacular residence, and it beat a cramped hotel room with no view except the violent storm. It was also safe, which she appreciated. These storms, she was discovering, were no joke.
Anyway. It was all a small price to pay for the returns, even if Marmeth didn’t approve her compensation proposal. She would already make a much-needed commission on the deal, and it was enough money to get her family off the Iortekh Moon Colony. Which was all that mattered to her.
No matter how long this Trothplight turned out to be, no matter how boring it was, no matter how insistent Mozok’s overtures, she was going to get out of here with a small fortune.
She evaporated her screen and sighed. These Astrogodans were a really weird bunch.
But she was tenacious, and they had underestimated her willingness to stick it out to the end. They had likely underestimated her personal need to complete this deal and obtain the commission. It really didn’t matter to her if she had to endure some strange alien cultural ritual. It wasn’t the first time, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
Anyway, as Marmeth had pointed out: she was probably stuck here for the duration of the storm. It was going to be uncomfortable either way; at least this way, she could get her much-needed commission.
Any way you sliced it, Mina told herself reassuringly for the umpteenth time, there was no real choice. Not for her.
* * *
As the intersystem legal framework generally stipulated, the conditions of the contract were to be signed according to Astrogodan law and custom, which, translated to plain English, meant signing in blood. The parliamentary members seemed to think Mina would be especially bothered by this request, because they repeatedly showered her with formal questions about whether or not she was really willing to “sign” the contract.
This was amusing to Mina, because they may not have realized it, but she did: there were an awful lot of civilizations that wanted blood to be involved in legal matters. She smiled politely and pricked her finger on a ceremonial artifact that, Marmeth confirmed, was sterilized. The “document” was made of what appeared to be the hide of some animal, but it was as dry and boring as any legal document on Earth when Marmeth translated it.
