Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: aaron@amisk.cs.ualberta.ca (Aaron V. Humphrey) Subject: [Colony][NTY] Negotiations Message-ID: Date: Thu, 16 Dec 1993 19:52:58 GMT ADMIN: This post is a joint composition of myself and Alan Smith. Palandun Lintesul is Alan's; Nirvan and Tangas are mine. Copyright 1993, etc. "Don't ever let me hear you say, 'This is the life we folks must lead.'" ---Everything But The Girl, "Native Land" "So let me get this straight," Nirvan said. "You mean that 'Pal' guy who helped us out with the fire and brought in all those healers and floating sleds was actually Palandun Lintesul, the Bismanian Ambassador?" Tangas nodded. "I was there when the messenger arrived for him. At first I thought it was a joke, until he stood up and said he was the Ambassador. Nobody's quite sure what to think, now.." Nirvan certainly didn't. He felt a burst of rage at this Palandun for helping them. What arrogance! Coming in and cleaning up after their own rock. But then he remembered how the olive-skinned man had tried to give first aid to as many as he could, before the priests and healers came. "Nilar?" Someone said, knocking on the door and peeking in. That someone did not look well. He was dark of skin and black of hair, but this wasn't immediately apparent, because he was also covered with a layer of dust that seemed to cling to him with some kind of malicious hate. His face had the drawn expression of someone who has had two hours sleep in the past twenty-four. "What am I talking about, Nilar's a country. I mean, Nirvan? You remember me? Pal Lintesul, we met fighting a fire. I came to see if I could sway your opinion about the proposed colony." Despite himself, Nirvan was impressed. It took guts to walk knowingly into the home of one who has proclaimed himself your enemy. But if may just be fatigue clouding his judgement. "Okay. This 'colony'. You want to set up a colony here, eh? I have no problem with that." He took a deep breath. "But where in the Shun do you come off with buying part of _our_ land--the Upper idiots think it's theirs, which is terribly convenient--they're perfectly willing to disavow it when they don't want to think about it, but when it comes in handy--well, it's theirs, all right, we just live there. We can live somewhere else just as well, right? Well, it's not for bloody sale! No matter how many rocks you call down from the sky on us, you hear?" Palandun always hated this part. So far he had had substantially the same argument with at least four different people, the last ones being 'Raelf and Hector, Melwis' aide or something. "The upper idiots sold it to Melwis this morning. Kind of ironic really. By now they're kicking themselves because I just negotiated a lease agreement with him. Assuming I can get something with you I'll take it to the citizenry and we'll have everything ready in a couple days. First of all, nobody gets moved against their will. You have my personal guarantee on that. However, everyone who wants to sell the place they live in gets paid twice the going rate and moved into equivalent or better accomodations at no cost to themselves. This is SOP, by the way, Bismanians have founded a lot of colonies, and there are always people who are opposed to our coming in. "There are benefits for you guys, too, y'know." Palandun continued, "We'll be living amongst you, so you'll suddenly have a powerful class with a vested interest in making low city a nice place to live. You'll get an efficient police, fire, and mail system, a working infrastructure, and a biggish economic boost, all at a very small cost to yourselves. We didn't drop that meteor, that's not our style. If we can't get along here, we'll go elsewhere. And Low City can remain the same stinking hole it is now. But, if you really want to climb out of that hole you're in, you'll let us come settle, because no one else on the continent is going to care." Palandun's carefully constructed dramatics were totally blown out of the water by a violent sneeze. It was then that he noticed something. "Why aren't you guys covered in dust?" "Don't change the subject," Nirvan said. In point of fact, he wasn't that much cleaner than Palandun, water being scarce in the Buff' after the bucket brigade, but it certainly wasn't clinging to him like it was to the Bismanian. "So you expect us to _believe_ all this? You show up and say, 'Let us move in--we'll make everything better, because we're here to help you.' What do you know about what's better, anyway? What's gonna happen to people who have lived in Low City all their lives and don't know anything else? You start to make this a copy of the rest of the city, they're gonna have to move somewhere, 'cause Low City's where they live, and if it stops being that, they're gonna pack up and make another one. "And where the hell did that rock come from, if you didn't send it? You expect us to believe that it just 'happened' to hit right where you wanted to set up your colony? You got those sky-sled things, you can put a rock where you want it." At this, Palandun had to giggle. "Those sky-sled things go a max of about thirty feet in the air, with a running start and a ramp. They're for ground use only and most people can't even drive one. Listen, you can talk to my aunt Silvenfrin Lintesul if you don't believe me, but we can't steer a meteor from that far out. I don't think anybody can. For another thing, in case you weren't watching, that meteor hit the mage guild building first, then arced up and...dropped rather fast, really. I think they were trying to hit the shunned center and accidentally hit some wierd air anomaly or something. One of those things you can't predict or account for. Fate." As he said the words, Palandun got less and less convinced, that meteor was guided, at least in the last phase. Externally he kept up a calm exterior, but internally his mind raced: who would want to drop a meteor on Low City? The Mage Guild? Why? This bore further investigation... "As for believing me," Pal continued, "I don't go out of my way on two hours sleep in the past twenty-four just to lie to people. I don't trust my face that well. I believe what I'm saying. Now you're an intelligent person, figure it out for yourself. A bunch of rich people move into a poor area, they have to spend their money somewhere, and that somewhere is as close to home as possible. Even if we were Generican merchants you'd get richer, and Bismanian merchants tend to be...different. Culturally, I'm not even going to pretend to know what's going to happen. Nobody does. We'll find out." "The Mage Guild? Well, hell, there's the Upper City for you. Just dump the rock in Low City with the rest of the garbage." Nirvan's anger, which had never really been directed at Palandun anyway, fixed on a new target. "That changes a lot, you realize." He suddenly grinned lopsidedly. "It's not that I have anything against you guys. But I've spent days selling the Low City on the Evil Bismanian Invaders who were coming to take our homes. I can't just do a total about-face, or I'll totally lose everyone's confidence and they'll hate you anyway. But if we distract them with the Mage Guild... The fact that you helped out last night will help sway them, and the money will help too. I'm still not sure that this is a good thing, but I suppose we can give it a try. You'll have to move slowly, though." Palandun sighed, this was, after all, all he could reasonably expect. "I'm as concerned as you are, I'm not too crazy about people dropping big rocks on my home either, and as of fairly soon, I'll be living with you. It's going to take us a couple of days to debate this lease, so don't worry about going slow. I'll keep that under our collective hat while you do whatever you do. We'll go in and start negoitiating for specific homes after that, k?" He stood up, checking to see that he hadn't forgoteen anything, and shook hands with the other. "And Nirvan, you might want to look into the mage guild not being entirely responsible either. Sometimes bad stuff just happens, you know, and it's nobody's fault. Listen, it was great meeting you, and I hope that the next time we do this it'll be in happier circumstances." Palandun shook hands with the other(noticing that Nirvan's hand got cleaner, while his got dirtier)and strode off to the docks, where he could put the lease up for consideration. -- --Alfvaen(Editor of Communique) Current Album--Fleetwood Mac:Tusk Current Read--Jack L. Chalker:The Run To Chaos Keep The Grave's a quiet place indeed, but hasn't any light to read.