Rohen

(to himself, steadying) Intact. Mostly.

You. Human?

Last I checked.

Wonderful. You have no idea how [good] it is to see a face. Any face.

Yours is adequate. More than adequate. It is the finest face and hair style and your clothes...

That’s your stomach rumbling.

It is [not] hunger. It is a vacuum. A spatial readjustment of the digestive cavity following molecular disassembly at speed. The Starport does that to you.

It makes you hungry?

Turns your body into a suggestion, fires the suggestion across space, and reassembles you at the other end.

(Feeling his face) Nose. Ears. Both present. Good.

Last fellow I saw come through had his left ear on backwards. Heard perfectly. Looked [haunting].

(pressing a hand to his midsection) This is embarrassing. I don't suppose you have food? [Cooked]. It must be cooked.

Something about reassembly — the body craves proof that things have been [transformed] by heat. That something has been made deliberately.

Meat. Or fruit, if you've got it. Anything that a man made fire has touched with intention.

I can manage that.

Wow, you're already my favorite person in the {world}! Though you're also the only person I've met in the {world} so far... but I promise, this feeling comes straight from the heart.

(eating, eyes closed) Oh. Oh. That's — yes. That's the emptiness filling.

Not hunger. I told you it wasn't hunger.

(chews) The cooked food grounded the body’s reality.

That it's here. Not still scattered between two star systems as a probability cloud.

Where'd you come from?

(the warmth dimming slightly) The Glassway. Via Starport.

The starport sounds horrifying. You got on anyway?

It’s beyond horrifying. Some passengers simply disappeared. Or reassembled in ways no sentient beings should be.

But you got what you paid for. And I was in a hurry.

Are you wanted by the authority?

(the smile — permanent, professional, eyes barely participating) Hardly. The Glassway Commerce Authority, who wanted to revoke my licence over a misunderstanding about the nature of widgets.

Don’t listen to them, my widgets were "genuine." They were. They were simply mislabelled.

Okay… you're a counterfei…. I meant a trader.

A legitimate trader. I have a laminated card.

What kind of widgets?

Assorted. The specifics are less important than the principle, which is: everything has a value, everything can be exchanged.

The man who understands what someone needs before they've said it aloud is the man who eats well.

(He pats the crate.) Mechanical Components, Non-Hazardous. Nutritional Supplements, Unverified. Everything above board. Everything accounted for. Wait….

That crate was sealed. Reinforced. I packed it myself with the care of a man who understands that his livelihood is inside.

And the Starport cracked it open like an egg because the Starport does not care about your livelihood.

(He taps the cracked crate.) This is broken.

My goods inside are shifting. If they shift much further, several of them will become one very exciting chemical reaction.

I need Green Slime Glue to seal it.

Green Slime Glue.

Harvested from Goobies. Small creatures. Round. They secrete a bonding compound that, when dried, could hold a starship hull together. Or at the very least, my crate.

And I'm the one hunting them because…?

Because economy has division of labor. I am the trader. You the survivalist.

Bring me the glue. I'll make it worth your while. And when you're back — we'll talk about what you want to build.

Because I suspect, my friend, you've been thinking too small. And thinking small on a planet this big is the only real waste I can't forgive.

(turning, genuinely delighted) You actually got it. I had — I won't say doubts, that's uncharitable — I had contingency plans.

Perfect. Goobic-grade. You can always tell by the — well. You can tell.

(He begins applying it to the crate seam with the focused care of a surgeon.) Tell me about yourself.

What do you want to know?

all useful information. Why did you come to {world}? Do you have any dreams?

Survival, mostly.

Survival is a floor, not a ceiling. Survival is what you do while you're deciding what you actually want. What do you [want]?

Don't be embarrassed. Wanting things is the engine of commerce, it's in short supply here, which is precisely why it's valuable.

While you work on what you want, maybe we can create an inventory of need. Things. We always need things.

What kind of things?

(producing a small, battered ledger from his coat) Three categories. Rare gems — anything crystalline, anything that glows when it shouldn't, anything with a colour that doesn't have a name yet. Rare creature items — not meat, not fur, I mean singular things.

They might be hard to find.

Different strategy then: quantity. Volume. If you can bring me a hundred of something unremarkable, a hundred unremarkable things become a remarkable number of credits.

Sure I can do that. You have a third category?

People you meet. They're not just company. They're intelligence.

Information is a commodity. Which brings me to my next question— who else is here?

Marvin. He is the only one here. He can’t leave. Don’t know why.

You waited this long to tell me about him? “A settlement. With an obsessed leader.” Noted.

This Marvin — does he control the Starport?

He controls… the area. These old ruins. He calls himself Lord M.

An aristocrat! …who clings on … to the remnants of a fallen dynasty.

You want me to report back on people I talk to.

Report? … No! We are just sharing, in casual conversation, as associates do. This is companionship, camaraderies, networking.

Fair price. More than fair. I have rounded up, which I almost never do, because rounding up is a habit that leads to poverty and I have a policy against poverty.

Thanks.

Don't thank me. You dug it out of the ground and carried it here. I merely recognised its value, which is the easier job and the better-paid one. That is the beauty of commerce.

For you. A gift. Separate from the transaction. From the Viridian Markets on Cassoway Station. The vendor told me it had been grown in soil enriched with trace deposits of concentrated luck. I bought three from him.

…A banana tree.

A banana tree seedling. Plant it. Wherever feels right. A threshold. A high point. The tree will — it will do what it does. I can't be more specific. That's part of the charm.

What does it do?

(with complete sincerity) Something good. Auspiciousness. Plant it anyway. Cost you nothing.

Now. I have my emerald. You have an auspicious plant. We are, formally, in a relationship. Even a partnership. How about a project together?

(Leaning forward slightly, voice lowered) Technology. Alien technology... {world} used to have civilization. If the geological records don't lie, there was probably [more than one].

They built things. And the things they built didn't all run on fuel you can see. Some of it ran on something else.

How did you know about them?

Being in business will make anyone a polymath. I am particularly interested in their tech of communication - energy transmission, frequency, and waves. Invisible energy.

What will you do with their tech?

(the permanent smile) Understand it. And then, with great care and appropriate patenting— which I will obtain retrospectively — sell it.

But I'd need to understand it first. So. If you find anything that hums without a power source, anything that affects direction without touching anything, anything that makes animals behave strangely when you walk near it — you come to me first.

Before anyone else.

Before everyone else. That is the definition of first. Frequencies and signal architecture. Write it down if you have to.

And plant the seedling. I cannot stress the seedling enough.

Ha! Don't mention it, I'm not doing this for charity.

How much?

The price is fair, I guarantee you. Plus, it doesn't need repair, and you don't need to concern yourself with the warranty.

Well, forget I asked.

(shows no disappointment, changes approach) Fair enough, and I have something else to show you, completely free of charge.

Hey, pal, got any Stone?

Rohen, you're the best!

Ha! Don't mention it, I'm not doing this for charity.

Here ya go! A custom weapon, hewn from stone—way stronger than your average wooden stick. Try it out!

(Swings it a few times) Whoa! Can you make other tools for me, too?

Have a go yourself by using a [Crafting Table] if you like. Or, come to my store instead.

Here, take the recipe. But keep it between us, yeah?

I have a question, and I need your first answer — don’t over think it.

Someone came through here. Before me. Someone — [he searches for the word, finds one, and holds it up to the light] — significant. You can always tell, you know.

Who are you talking about?

I’d rather not say the name. Names attract questions about [why], and the why is — complicated.

Let me describe instead. Arrived with considerable fanfare. A person of profile. Of reputation. The sort who has an entire [aesthetic] attached to them, the way a comet has a tail.

Very cool. Very deliberately cool. The kind of cool that looks effortless, whether it’s a birthright or an enormous ongoing expense.

Sgt. Chili?

[carefully] What do you know about Sgt. Chili?

Runs a sort of movement. Revolutionary, even. People follow him. He’s got conviction.

Conviction. Yes. That’s the word. That is [exactly] the word. [beat] I’m going to tell you something you shouldn’t repeat, and I say this as someone who avoids trouble whenever it’s cost-effective.

Go on.

Sgt. Chili is an [expensive] connection.

My Aunty Dido was exactly the same. Lovely woman. Life of every party. People around her became fans before they noticed, and once they noticed, it was already too late.

Aunt Dido wanted a tramping expedition on the ice planet of Centauri-5 — they opened their coffers. She wanted to save the Psittacosaurus of the Tropicalis — they built the sanctuary.

And what did they get in return? Not feeling bad about it. That was the whole return. Don’t become a fan of Aunt Dido. Don’t become a fan of Sgt. Chili.

You think he’s a — what exactly are you saying?

What I’m saying is: do not [invest]. Not money, not time, not the sort of loyalty that makes you useful.

I’m not calling him a scammer. I’m saying that people on the edges of something very large don’t always understand they can be pulled in. Or burned.

Sometimes both, in that order.

He’s dangerous?

No. Risky. Whatever he’s building here — keep your receipts.

And notice the opportunities you could’ve sought out otherwise - you can only do so much.

I just thought of something. Since Sgt. Chili's [museum] is open, those little things in the forest ought to have a market value too.

Don't be nervous. Start with the easy things to move. Feathers, shells... things like that. As long as there is demand, it is not trash. It is inventory.

Here is the arrangement. You make a run for me and bring back enough [materials]. I will give you a more respectable [weapon recipe].

I am not giving it to you. It is the return this [business] deserves!

Hmm... this batch will do... the feathers are dry, they come apart between the fingers. The shell has a nice [crack] to it... I knew you were not the sort who could only haul [rocks].

Take it. The [first batch of samples] made from these materials...

Do not make that face. This is not a gift. We are simply [both] very good at turning [waste] into opportunity.

Anyway! This planet is crawling with opportunity. Literally crawling.

The terrifying ones. Yes.

Everything on this planet that wants to kill you is also everything that someone, somewhere, will pay for. It’s the oldest law of commerce: danger is just value that hasn’t been priced yet.

So the scarier they are…

The more they’re worth. Risk correlates with profit.

Scaly hide? Lightweight armour plating.

Better protection-to-weight ratio than anything Clyde Corp manufactures.

Good material like that should not be left to rot in the wild.

If you could make another run for me and bring back a few [Serpent Scale Shards], that would be ideal.

Not too many. I have a [recipe] that can turn them into something proper.

Oh, not bad. Not bad at all. Scale shards this good are wasted on a [Serpent]. Turning them into [equipment] is what they were meant for...

Here is the [recipe]. Partners have no need for secrets.

Some people like collecting. I like [circulation]. If you run into another [big one] like that, remember to bring back the parts that can sell.

Lately I have been thinking that [Sgt. Chili]'s approach is a terrible waste of things.

What now? You are eyeing Chili’s collections?

I think common sense. Don’t I? Look at where we are. The frontier.

Where people are still scavenging to survive, someone has decided the correct use of resources is to lock things behind glass and stop them moving.

No. You don’t understand. The purpose of the collections is to preserve evidences what Clyde has done here.

Preserve. Equals death. Flora, fauna, artefacts — the moment you pin them behind a placard and a rope, you’ve killed them more thoroughly than any hunter ever could.

A creature on a [market] is alive — alive in the only way that matters, which is that someone [wants] it.

Demand is the pulse. Commerce is the blood. And a museum is a morgue with expensive lighting. Depressing.

You would rather you’d be the one that owns them.

For a little while. Then someone else could. We take turns.

[Our community relies on it.] Your survival and your prosperity depends on it.

You hunt. I buy. Favourable terms. First-partner pricing.

And if you bring me something truly exceptional — something with teeth, something with weight, something that made you run — I’ll double the rate.

Once your transaction total reaches the mark, I will give you a special [weapon recipe]!

Ah. The adventurer returns. Wonderful. Truly wonderful.

I like situations like this. As long as nobody [backs down], things never truly end!

As long as things are [unfinished], the price can keep being [negotiated]... and then there are [variables]... like the [weapon] recipe I am about to give you.

Very suitable for situations where [everyone thinks they are right].

Rohen. I wanted to talk about the Worm Pearl.

[still sorting] You got a Worm Pearl! Everyone knew it before I did. Which is — [a breath, barely perceptible] — fine. Completely fine.

I didn’t know you wanted to

Wanted? No, no. “Wanted” is too strong. I had [expressed interest]. Casually.

To several people. On multiple occasions. Over the course of weeks. But that’s — bygones. Water under whatever passes for a bridge on this planet.

[quieter, the facade thinning] I simply thought — given our arrangement, given what I’ve supplied, given that I was the one who [told] you alien transmission emitting technology is an area of my expertise… It might occur to you…

But it didn’t. And that’s fine. I said it was fine. It [is] fine.

And if you happen to find another Worm Pearl out there…

…Bring it to me first. As a courtesy. Between partners.

(takes the Worm Pearl) Easy. I promise it'll be safe with me.

Don't worry. I just think a [package] would be nice for something that you risked your [life] for before we hand it over.

I put it in a [box] and drafted the [exhibition label] for you.

Relax. I credited it to you, but it wouldn't hurt to put a small "Assisted by Rohen" at the bottom. I know my place, you know.

You went to the [Cavern]? Excellent! I [knew] you were not the sort of person who only circles around places with light.

Since you are going there anyway, bring something back for me. [Tin Ore], and [Reinforced Fiber]. Do not worry. They are good things. You would not want to throw them away either.

You actually brought them back. Excellent. I like doing business with [reliable] people.

Take this. A [recipe]. That trip was not wasted.

I saw a strange [book] somewhere deep in the cave. Fire burst out when it opened.

Great! A book that attacks people. I'm intrigued.

I don't have a [recipe] for it. Do you know what it is?

I might have an idea.

You don't sound so sure.

It's related to [particles], so of course I'm not 100% sure. But since you're here for me, it means you want to [make it first], not [write a thesis]. That I'm pretty [good] at.

You mean you can make the [Flame Manual]?

Let's not rush things. What you saw in the cave was a finished product. I need to check the nearby materials first. Especially blueberries.

Blueberries?

Yes, blueberries, for me when I'm making your manual. And we also need ink.

I doubt you can make it.

You can [doubt] me. It doesn't mean it's [impossible].

Great. I usually don't smile so genuinely when I'm unsure about something. Here's the [Waterball Manual]. We did it.

[Waterball]? I needed Flame.

Right, you needed Flame... But these materials... they pushed me in the direction of water. Blueberries... Right, the blueberries dyed the cover a beautiful indigo.

You don't know how to make a [Flame Manual].

I made a [usable] manual with what you could get your hands on. Currently, for you, it's much more practical than the correct answer that might exist [theoretically].

You count this as a success?

Why not? At first, you had [nothing]. Now, you have a book that splashes water around. Don't be greedy.

Ah! Great timing. I was just looking for you.

Okay. You go first.

You've seen the person with a mask on at the Starport, right? The one with the silk?

Why do you ask?

No why. I'm just asking around.

My business on {world} has only just started, and suddenly a newcomer who once [held high office] turns up. My curiosity — no, my professional instinct — was suddenly piqued.

Sounds like you already knew a lot.

Well, I wouldn't say a lot. It's worthless information. So, what do you think?

She not only knows [silk], but the other kind of energy in [materials].

Do you think she could be [connected] to the machine that [spits out silk] over in the desert?

Desert? Silk?

I took a walk to the desert yesterday and had a small [accident].

There was a machine half a meter tall. I watched it from a [safe distance].

In the blink of an eye, it latched onto the ruins next to me with an almost transparent thread and just flew over... It just charged at me like an iron jellyfish!

I only made it back because I memorized the location of the portal.

I [don't like] this.

She has things I don't have and knows what I don't know. I don't like [taking risks] or being [cannon fodder] for someone else.

What are you planning to do?

I plan to get a clearer understanding of {world}'s material properties. Organic, inorganic... I'm sure I can make similar [silk-spinning] gear.

Similar... Like how you did with the Flame Manual last time?

It'll be better, I swear! I have a budget of [8,000]. Keep selling me things. Anything will do.

If I have to pick favorites, bring me those Trophies that Chili takes. [The more, the better]. How many more seconds do you think his [installation] art can keep you alive in the desert?

See? Simple. You work, and I pay. We take what we need for ourselves.

Here you go. It's the [Amethyst Hook Recipe] I've been researching.

It's not entirely the same, but it'll do. I'm still not very good at studying vintage machines.

A monster in the desert that spits out silk? Now you can do that, too. So, it's up to you which one of you will survive.

I've never liked it when things are clearly unfair. We need balance and back-and-forth to start a bargain.

Remember to come back alive if you go to the desert. I have so many things I haven't told you yet.