In one of these bowl-chairs governor No’shto-shti-stlen waited, plucking pale green leaves from some sort of fruit and eating them one by one.
But the governor set down gtst lunch as they approached. Manners improved. The aide, bowing, declared the presence of ‘the great hani captain, the birth-bond-relative of the estimable mekt-hakkikt’ and so on and so on, worthy of gtst attention, and so on.
“Sit,” the entity lisped in the Trade, with a wave of white, long fingers. Gtst excellency seemed half-transparent, hardly a touch of color in the body-paint, to hani eyes, white on white. Gtst—not precisely he or she, since stsho had three genders, and two indeterminate states if frightened—called for something in gtst rippling planetary language. The attendant scurried to comply, while stsho music played softly in the background, the occasional chime of a single, same note.
Hilfy folded down into the bowl opposite gtst excellency No’shto-shti-stlen, knowing better than to rush matters with the governor, as she had refused to be hurried. But very quickly a servant showed up with a tray of crystal bowls and a colorless, exquisitely flavored liquid in a crystal pitcher.
Thereafter, five tiny bowls, savored in silence. She knew the protocols—and knew the giddiness that could set in for a hani partaking of too much stsho hospitality. She kept her ears up and her mouth pursed in hani pleasantness, evidencing the right amount of cultured pleasure in each serving, all the while she watched the minute flutter of feathery lashes and feathery brows, the minute shifts in expression as No’shto-shti-stlen made slow estimation of gtst guest and tried (it was second nature to the stsho) to guess her current rank, her mood, and her expectations by her selection of jewelry and her composure in the meeting. “Do you find it pleasant?”
“Delicate,” she said, in the stsho’s own trade-tongue, and feathery eyebrows went up. “Very delicate. Very pleasant.”
“We are astounded at your commendable fluency.” “Your excellency flatters me. And this is very fine.” “Please accept a case lot in appreciation.” Ye gods.
Appreciation. Of what, one wondered. It was no mean gift. But the obligatory response, with precisely the right degree of gratitude: “Your excellency is most kind. Please be understanding when a gift from my own ship arrives: after seeing the grace and discrimination of your establishment, I can only hope my personal token of admiration finds favor.”
“I could not possibly.”
“Honor it with your ownership. Your discrimination is of wide repute.”
“Your graciousness is most extravagant.”
“Your excellency’s delicacy and sensitivity amply justify our admiration.”
It went on like that for two and three more rounds of compliments and deprecations.
That case of tea was worth about 3000 on the market. A good merchant had her figures in her head. The stsho certainly did.
“There is, however,” said No’shto-shti-stlen— (there was always the “however”) “—a way in which we might favor ourselves with an opportunity to amplify our association. More tea?”
Gods, the convolutions. One suspected a stsho was trying to lose an upstart foreigner in the verbal underbrush. But one did not decline an offer of further negotiation, not if one wished to remain on good terms. One only hoped one’s good sense held out and one’s tongue did not trip.
“Of course.”
Another round of platitudes, another period of quiet assessment, in which, ample time to reflect on one’s capacity for shis tea and on the extent of a stsho’s connivance. No’shto-shti-stlen was a stsho whom aunt Pyanfar called moderately stable.
That meant both reliable for trade… and dangerous by reason of gtst long-term personal interests.
“I would wonder,” she said, setting down the third emptied cup of the second round of shis-thi-nli. “I would ask why my illustrious and esteemed aunt was not foremost to help such a deserving person, if your excellency would enlighten me. Surely your trust in my junior self cannot exceed that you would place in her august person.”
“I hope that my request does not cause any—“ A flutter of the hands, a hiding of the mouth behind a napkin, “—awkwardness.”
Kftli.”Awkwardness.” Cognate relationship to “foreignness.” Perhaps gtst excellency was making a joke. Perhaps gtst excellency had not studied the evolution of the trade-tongues.