And then the Leader, having evidently selected Keene as the principal, leaped forward with a shriek despite his crooked leg, planting himself solidly, his eyes bulging, brandishing the club in menacing motion. Keene was peripherally aware of Naarmegen a few feet away, open-mouthed, momentarily paralyzed. From behind he registered the click of Jorff thumbing a round into the breech of his rifle.
“No!” he snapped over his shoulder; at the same time, his mind raced. He knew that the demonstration was to intimidate, a bid to assert rank; but what to do about it? He wasn’t about to try and make a point by trading blows with the local head-cracking champion—and quite possibly come the worst out of it.
“Lan, turn around!” Beth’s voice came through the compad. “Slowly. Go for the unexpected.”
Something in Keene’s subconscious saw what she was getting at before he did. Overriding the inner pandemonium of rushing adrenaline, he forced his face into an expression of contempt, folded his arms on his chest, and turned his back. Jorff was standing frozen with his rifle at the ready. Beth and Maria were still farther back. For an instant it seemed to Keene that the rest of reality was a movie that had seized up. And then he became aware of a rushing noise and whine, getting louder.
Somebody—either the remote operator back at Serengeti, or it could have been Ivor in the Scout, patching in local control—had kept abreast of the situation and was diving the probe at them. Keene turned his head and saw it swooping in, motor at full power and an audio tone beamed through the on-board speaker for effect. He raised his head commandingly, as if it had been he who summoned it. A cry of fear and scuffling noises came from behind him, and screams from the huts below. The probe whooshed overhead, passing low enough for its slipstream to dislodge the hood of Keene’s work jacket. Something hit it, disintegrating with a sharp cracking sound; the probe lifted away in a climbing turn, but its engine note had changed and it seemed to be laboring. Still, it cleared the rocks above and disappeared over the line of the ridge at the top of the slope.
Keene turned back in a way that he hoped was majestic enough, to find the mulatto on the ground, gibbering, the old man holding his hands protectively over his head, and the bowman with missing teeth some yards away, seemingly looking sheepish, his bow empty. He looked as if he had started to run away after firing his arrow, and then checked himself.
The Leader, however, still stood where he had been, upright and defiant, his eyes blazing. His expression seemed to be saying, I did not bend!
But there was more too. Understanding and respect. Acceptance. He and Keene had passed each other’s tests. Now they could treat as equals, each before his own kind. So how would a professional diplomat play it from here? Keene asked himself. He found he had no idea. Then let’s just be the engineer, he decided.
Unfolding his arms, he relaxed his features into a hint of a grin and extended an open palm. The Leader looked down at it uncertainly. Keene moved it a few inches closer, nodding in encouragement. The Leader warily released one of his own hands from the handle of the club and raised it until they touched lightly. The tension slackened. Somebody applauded from back near the Scout. Cheering voices at Serengeti base came from the compad on Keene’s arm. The others from the Scout started to come forward, but halted when Beth spoke again, cautioning them. “Hold back, people. This is his domain. Wait to be invited. His pride and dignity are everything.”
Keene withdrew his hand and waited impassively. The Leader remained facing him until his entourage had re-formed. Then, seemingly needing to regain some face lost as a result of their poor showing, he pointed first at Keene, then Naarmegen, making his gestures slow and wide to be visible from below, then indicated the settlement, beckoned to them, and turned to begin leading the way.
Beth spoke from Keene’s compad. “Don’t concede too easily, Lan. He’ll take it as weakness. Bargain with him.” Keene held up a hand. The Leader stopped and turned awkwardly back on his crooked leg. Keene pointed back at Jorff, still standing halfway between them and the Scout, and then motioned down toward the huts, indicating that Jorff was to go too. The two stood for several seconds, reading each other’s faces. Then the Leader nodded curtly and waved for Jorff to follow.