“Captain Mercy-of-Christ, a pleasure to meet you."

John winced at the incorrect form of address. He wanted the Earther to come across well, and silly little mistakes in form would not help at all. “J'sevyu, Mr. Blessing; this here is the Reverend Seth Bound-for-Glory, spokesman for the Free People of Savior's Grace and pastor of the Savior's Grace Church of Christ."

Blessing stuck out a hand; Bound-for-Glory took it reluctantly, apparently surprised to find it felt like any other man's hand. “Reverend,” Blessing said, “I hope we can do business together. I understand Godsworld is short of plastics; would ITD be able to lease this meadow with plastics, or is there something else you'd prefer? I don't suppose that you have much use for Terran credit out here."

“Plastic?” The minister's face lit up. “I think we can make a deal, Mr. Blessing."

From that point on it was easy. The villagers quickly forgot Blessing's mechanized body and dark skin when other crewmembers, almost all of them completely human in appearance despite a wide range of skin colors, began bringing out crates of guns, ammunition, plastic sheeting, and other trade goods.

John followed the negotiations with interest, and found himself, without really meaning to, giving both sides advice on how to deal with the other, correcting misunderstandings, explaining obscure references, and interpreting phrases that one or the other did not understand. By noon the next day he had formally accepted Kwam?'s offer and signed on as an ITD employee.

Chapter Twenty-One

“For what hath man of all his labour, and of the vexation of his heart, wherein he hath laboured under the sun?"-Ecclesiastes 2:22

John glanced impatiently at the cabin door. “I don't understand how ITD could be so stupid,” he said. “How could they send a rebuilt black man to run their operation on an all-white world where cyborgs are traditionally considered the work of the Devil?"

“John,” Kwam? said patiently, “ITD is an equal-opportunity employer. They hire the most qualified people without worrying about their skin color or how many gadgets have been built into them. Hell, at least he's human! They could have sent an arty or a sport model or something. Black skin isn't so bad when you consider the other possibilities."

“What other possibilities?"

“Green and scaly, say."

“You mean they've found intelligent beings out there besides humans?"

“No, they built them. Maybe they've found some, too-there were rumors when we left."

“Oh.” John shook his head. “It still seems wrong, somehow, messing around with God's image."

“God's image?"

“Man was created in God's image-the Bible says so."

“Which man? Is God white?"

John looked down at the table for a moment, then looked up again. “I don't know,” he said. “A year ago I probably would have said yes, but now I don't know. I do know He isn't green and scaly."

Kwam? shrugged. “That's more than I know about Him; I'm not even sure He exists!"

“Well, you're not a Godsworlder-and Gamaliel Blessing isn't even close. Couldn't they have found someone who would be more… who would fit in better?"

“John, they didn't even try. I don't think you really understand the situation. You invited ITD to come here; that's supposed to mean that you're ready to deal with the people of the Interstellar Confederacy, that you and these other Godsworlders are reasonably sane and civilized now. To anyone out there in the Confederacy, that means you're supposed to be able to accept people as people, however they may vary; that's just about the most basic rule our civilization has. Gamaliel Blessing is a person, even if he has had half his nervous system rewired and any number of things added; Godsworld is going to have to accept that if they're going to deal with civilized people. Now, you know and I know that ITD was invited in here because you feel Bechtel-Rand wronged you, not because Godsworld is actually ready for open trade; you know and I know that Savior's Grace issued the invitation and ITD accepted it because they both smelled a profit; but ITD can't admit that, because the CRA wouldn't allow them to trade here if they did. They have to behave as if Godsworld really were civilized."

“It is civilized! More civilized than Earth!"

“Oh, come on, you know better than that!"

“We have the perfect way of life here, following the word of God! How can anything be more civilized than that?"

“The perfect way of life? Living on the edge of starvation, fighting petty little wars over whether to use wine or grape juice to simulate human blood?"

“That war was over centuries ago! The prohibitionist heretics were wiped out!"

“That's civilized?"

“Yes!"

“I think we may have a problem in translation here; you may have noticed that those pop up, where words have changed their meanings over time. Godsworlder English isn't exactly like the evolved Old American that the machines taught us before we came here. Just what do you mean by ‘civilized'?"

John opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I don't know,” he admitted.

“That's what I thought."

“It seems to me, though, that a guest should respect a host's customs, and we don't allow mixing men and machines here."

Kwam? shrugged. “Get used to it,” he said.

“We also try and keep our appointments; when is this strategy session going to start?"

“When Blessing gets here. That idiot minister of yours is probably arguing about some stupid detail."

“He's not my minister. And I still think picking a black and a cyborg was… inconsiderate."

“Oh, I don't know,” Blessing said from the doorway. “I think they wanted someone impressive. And you must admit, Captain, that to your little pale people here, I am impressive."

“I didn't hear you come in,” Kwam? said.

“I didn't want you to,” Blessing replied.

Impatiently, John said, “Forget that. Sit down, Mr. Blessing, and let's talk."

“Gladly.” He sank into one of the cushions; it billowed up around him, supporting his weight and pillowing him on all sides. “The robots have started digging our headquarters. I hope, Captain, that Godsworld has no taboos about building underground? There is no sacred earth here, no burial ground? Mr. Bound-for-Glory made no objection, but he might have been constrained from speaking by some custom of which I am unaware. He did not appear happy, however."

John stared at him. “You can't build underground on Godsworld; the soil's only a few feet deep. You'd need to blast out rock. We don't have any laws against it-I don't know what you mean by ‘taboo'-because we never needed any."

“Oh, we can go through rock; that's no problem. It explains our host's misgivings, though. ITD learned its trade on planets where the atmosphere was not breathable, Captain; we always build underground unless local custom forbids it. It would be a shame to disturb the fields here, wouldn't it?"

John accepted another amazing accomplishment of Earther technology without further argument. “Oh,” he said. “Well, there's no graveyard here; if there were there would be headstones."

“Ah. Good. That makes it easy.” He nodded. “Then the robots should have the basic rooms ready in a few hundred hours. Already we have arranged to purchase a few tons of this fungoid you call ‘nearwood’ from the village here, in exchange for firearms, in addition to leasing our headquarters site for a few tons of cheap styrene."

“Firearms? You mean guns?"

“Yes, guns. Your people seem very fond of them."

“These aren't my people; I'm a True Worder, not from Savior's Grace."

“All Godsworlders, Captain; I meant no offense. At any rate, they seem pleased to have us here. We should be able to make quick progress."