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"So they consider the Empress, as one more 'foreign barbarian,' to be their subject," Roger said. "That's ... not an uncommon attitude in first-contact situations. Especially not with stagnant, satisfied planet-bound civilizations."
"Not for first –contact situations, no," Despreaux put in just a bit grimly.
"I understand where you're going, Nimashet," O'Casey said after moment. "And you're right. The Empire's policy is to refuse to recognize the insistence of such governments on their primacy, especially over the Empress herself. But usually an ambassador has a drop battalion available to pointedly refuse to make obeisance on the Empress' part."
"And the person doing the refusing is usually just that—an ambassador," Pahner pointed out. "Not a member of the Imperial family itself. So what do we do?"
"Well, I'll take point in the negotiations," O'Casey replied. "The first officials we encounter probably won't require a formal obeisance, so I'll politely tap dance for as long as I can, pointing out that while the Son of the Fire is, undoubtedly, a great sort, having our leaders do a full prostration is simply out of the question. We'll probably be able to avoid it by showing our personal might and only dealing with lower-level functionaries."
"What about the possibility of their informing the port?" Pahner asked.
"We may actually be in luck there," the chief of staff said cautiously. "Although the Son of the Fire is undoubtedly a god, it appears that some of his ministers are very secular in their desires. In addition, the valley is broken into five satrapies which are fairly independent of the central government. The local satrap may or may not contact the imperial capital at all, and even if he does, it wouldn't necessarily get noticed by the imperial bureaucracy. Or sent on to the spaceport even if it was. I get the feeling that the port authorities are avoiding contact with the natives to a great degree."
"Basis?" Pahner asked sharply.
"Pedi had never heard of anyone like us," Julian replied for O'Casey. "But she's otherwise very knowledgeable about local customs and politics. That suggests the humans are keeping a fairly low-profile. For that matter, she'd never even heard of 'ships that fly.' If there were any sort of regular aerial traffic between the port and the Krath, one would expect rumors about it to be fairly widespread, but neither she nor any of the Shin ever heard a thing about it. On the other hand, she knows what was served at the emperor's latest feast."
"Okay, that brings me to the second point that's throwing me," Roger said. "In just about every other culture we've dealt with, females were considered less than nothing. What's with the Shin?"
"Pedi?" O'Casey asked, switching her toot to Shin. "Why are you a warrior? We humans have no problem with that; some of our best warriors are women." She waved at Kosutic and Despreaux. "But we find it strange on your world. Unusual. We have seen nothing like it elsewhere in our travels since coming here. Explain this to us, please. In Shin or Krath, as you prefer."
"I am not a warrior," the female answered in Shin. "I am a begai— a war-child. My father is a warrior, a King of Warriors, and I am expected to mate with warriors. That our union may be stronger, I am trained in the small arts—the arts of Hand, Foot, and Horn, and also in the small arts of the Spear and Sword. If you want to see someone who is truly good at the arts, you must see my father."
"Do the Krath treat their women as equals?" Roger asked. "Or, at least, near equals, as you've described?"
"No, they do not," the Shin practically spat. "Their women are vern, no offense."
"None taken," Roger told her with a grin. "I've heard it before—although they prefer 'basik' on the other continent. But if the Krath don't, what about the Shadem?"
"The Shadem women are even worse—slaves, nothing else. They go around swathed in sumei, heavy robes that keep even their countenances covered. The same with the Lemmar, the beasts!" She paused suddenly, cocking her head speculatively, as if something about Roger's tone had suddenly toggled some i
"Why?" she asked.
"Well," Roger said with another grin, "I think we've just found our disguise for the Shin."
"No, we have not!" Pedi said angrily. "I am no Shadem or Lemmar vern to go around covered in their stinking sumei!"
"Would you rather be a Servant of God?" Cord asked tonelessly in his native tongue. The shaman had clearly been following the conversation, in general terms, at least, and he turned a gaze as expressionless as his voice upon his new benan. "Or forsworn in your duty? The path of duty is not a matter of 'I will not.' Choose."
Roger doubted that Pedi understood Cord's words completely, either, but it was obvious that the gist had come through. Her mouth worked for a moment, then she hissed a one-word reply to him.
"Robes."
"There, all settled," the prince said brightly. "But what kind of robes? And where do we get them?"
"The sumei weighs at least five latha—that's 'what kind of robes,' " Pedi said bitterly. "And we can get them at Kirsti. That's one of the main weaving centers for all of Krath." After a moment she brightened up. "On the other hand, it's also one of the main producers of cosmetics." She made a complicated gesture of a
"I'm not sure what we'll do about that, Pedi," the chief of staff said, with an odd, sidelong glance at Cord.
"What's the problem?" Pahner asked.
"Well," Julian began, heroically grasping the dilemma's horns for O'Casey, "you'll notice that most of the Mardukans we've run into on this side of the pond are clothed."
"Not Pedi," Roger objected, gesturing at the benan with his chin.
"Ah, yes, but she was a slave," O'Casey replied carefully. "It turns out that the Krath and the Shin—even the Shadem—have strong body modesty taboos."
"Oh, dear," Kosutic said. "I think maybe we should get the young lady some clothes then, eh?"
"That would be good," Julian agreed. "Cord feels perfectly normal the way he is. He's just ... undressed. Pedi, on the other hand—"
"Feels nekkid," the sergeant major finished. "Gotcha. We'll deal with that in just a moment. But how does it affect the rest of us?"
"Well, the Vashin are generally in their armor," Julian pointed out. "Same with the Diasprans and K'Vaernians. If we just explain that the local custom is to wear clothing, and staying in armor is the easy way to do that, they'll stay in armor most of the time."
"We need to get them some clothes, anyway," Pahner observed. "Armor all the time is bad hygiene."
"Yes, Sir," Julian acknowledged. "But they're used to the concept. Cord and Denat, on the other hand ..."
"What about us?" Cord asked.
"If we go wandering around with naked 'savages' we'll be violating various local taboos," O'Casey explained delicately. "It might have a certain 'kick' to it politically, but it would be much more likely to be destabilizing."
"Since the local custom is to wear clothes like humans do, Cord," Roger translated, "we'll all have to do the same thing or these snooty locals will think we're uncivilized."
"What? Cover myself in cloth?" Cord sounded incredulous. "Ridiculous! What reasonable person would do such a thing?!"
"Pedi would," Roger reminded him with unwonted delicacy. "The Lemmar didn't take her clothes away to be nice when they captured her, Cord."
"You mean ... Oh." The shaman made a complex gesture of frustration. "I'm too old to have an asi—benan! Especially one I can't even understand!"
"Hey, don't blame that on the language, buddy!" Roger retorted. "Nobody understands women!"