Maya Bohnhoff - Marsh Mallow

They called the planet Bog for lack of anything nicer to say about it. The name was certainly appropriate if not 100 percent accurate. The entire planet was not a bog, but anyone set down in its narrow temperate zone, would find that hard to believe. The planets abundant supply of surface water brought to mind words like sludge and morasseven bilge. Not a drop of the stuff was drinkable. It contained salts and minerals in such concentration that, in some of the smaller bodies of water, you could float objects that would have sunk to the bottom on Earth or Pa-Loana or just about any other habitable planet Rhys Llewellyn could name.

Take that gently bobbing field lamp, for example. Rhys gazed at it in consternation as it was carried away on the sludgy currents of Brown Salt Lake, gliding serenely just out of his reach.

See what I mean? Roderick Halfax lobbed a flat rock at the lamp. It struck the metal casing with a muffled ping! and plopped into the water where it began the tedious and protracted process of sinking. A tiny cloud of native fireflies, already visible in the twilight, eddied above the flotsam, apparently attracted by the gleam of alien metal.

Id rather not have demonstrated it at the expense of our field supplies, Rhys admitted, but yes, I do see.

Rick peered at the sludgy liquid. You could probably walk out and get it but I wouldnt recommend it. He turned back from the water to make his way up the newly constructed pier laid just last week by Tanaka Corps advance team of engineers.

After a last glance at the lost field lamp, Rhys fell into step beside his assistant. Ill bet you can build a boat out of just about anything here wood, metal, stone

Ah, but sir, Rick countered, a frown puckering his brow, the natives here dont build boats, nor do they work wood, make metal or carve stone sir.

Rhys laughed; the younger mans impersonation of his very earnest female assistant, Yoshi Umeki, was humorously accurate. And, of course, what he said was also true. The natives of Bog did none of those things, which posed the question of whether they were natives at all in the anthropological sense. There was nothing like alien/human contact to blur the lines between man and intelligent animal. Rhys could recall particular humans whose behavior blurred the lines even further. It was that sticky question of sentience that Rhys Llewellyn had been brought to Bog to answer.

Ah, Yoshi! He looked up and saw the girl making her way toward them through the stacks of tarp-covered trading goods and camp supplies that sat upon what passed for terra firma in this neck of the swamp. She was pecking at a notepad with one finger and frowning earnestly over the results of her work. Seeing Rhys and Rick, she paused and waved, oblivious to the admiring glances of a handful of Tanaka engineers whod gathered around the mobile cantina.

Rhys lengthened his stride and covered the distance between them to give the girl a hearty hug. So, Yoshiany candidates for sentience among our Bogies?

Well, there appear to be several at this location. She consulted her notepad. The top candidates are a bipedal, brachiating mammalian reminiscent of a lemur, a burrowing reptilian form not unlike an iguana, and an amphibian that builds mud lodges in the swamp.

Ah, now that sounds promising.

Im glad you think so, Professor. Personally, I find it all rather depressing.

The voice, sporting a decidedly British accent, came from over Rhyss shoulder, making him turn. He found himself face to face with an inappropriately well-dressed man of perhaps middle age. He was average in height, bland in coloring, and wore an expression of annoyed boredom. And you are? Rhys asked.

Yoshi jumped into the conversation. Im sorry, sirI mean, Rhys. This is Raymond Godwin. From, um, Acquisitions.

Godwin extended his hand in Rhyss direction, his eyes sweeping the younger man with urbane horror before lingering pointedly on his McCrae tartan kilt. Director of acquisitions, this sector. His upper lip twitched minutely.

Rhys, suddenly conscious of how itchy the woolen kilt was in the marshs thick sauna of an atmosphere, tried to make his smile sincere. Rhys Llewellyn, acting Director of Trade and Cultural directions. Exactly what is it you hope to acquire, Mr. Godwin?

Mineral rights to this entire planet. And first shot at its other resources.

Rhys frowned, trying not to twitch under the combined attack of wool, perspiration, and sudden unreasoning dislike. I dont understand

The advance reports on Bog came into Corporate Acquisitions just over a week ago. I was immediately dispatched to make known to the powers that be that Tanaka Corporation wishes to possess mineral rights on Bog.

Did acquisitions also receive the advance reports on the native life-forms?

Godwin nodded. No signs of civilization. The idea obviously delighted him.

No sign of civilization as we know it, Rhys cautioned. Any of the creatures on Bog might be sentient.

Godwin shrugged. Fine. You find the sentients, Ill negotiate for mineral rights.

Oh, so simple. Have you ever done anything like this before? Rhys asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

Dr. Llewellyn, acquisitions is my career. Of course, Ive done this before.

What I meant, Mr. Godwin, is have you ever pursued an acquisition this early onbefore a trade partners even been identified? Before a language has even been determined in which the parties can negotiate?

No. But youre the expert in that department, Dr. Llewellyn. Im counting on you to find the trade partners and their language. He smiled. After all, thats what Tanaka pays you for, is it not?

Rhys glanced sideways at Yoshi, whose expression, for once in her life, was blank. It is. Im merely surprised that the company is acting so precipitously.

Godwin shrugged. Bog is a mineralogically wealthy, if miserable, planet. We surely dont want that wealth falling into someone elses pockets Bristol-Benz, for example. He favored Rhys with a lopsided smile. Frankly, Im surprised Vladimir Zarber isnt here already, breathing down your neck.

At the mention of his arch-rival, Rhys grimaced. Like you, Vladimir Zarber is used to working more established prospects.

Well, Professor, Im told that establishing prospects is your forte. Im looking forward to seeing you in action. He glanced about at the pallets of goods. Now, I see you have a variety of merchandise. How do you plan to determine to whom it should be offered?

Shotgun, Mr. Godwin. We open up our little marketplace and see who shows up to shop.

And how long do you expect this process to take?

Rhys smiled. Why theres no telling about that. Could take days months

Years, murmured Yoshi.

Godwin threw her a subtly horrified glance. Youd willingly spend that much time to determine sentience? Months in this godforsaken cow wallow?

Yoshis mouth twitched. Or years, she repeated.

Thats ridiculous. Tanaka doesnt have that kind of time to invest in such a pursuit.

Youre always free to leave, Rhys told him. Wed gladly contact you when and if we had something positive to report.

What, and allow Bristol-Benz to sneak in and snap up resources? I assure you, what their advance teams lack in scientific method, they make up for in expediency.

Id hardly allow that to happen, Rhys assured him. Ive a few negotiations to my credit as well.

Commodities. You negotiate commodities. Im talking about planetary rights, Professor, not trinkets. He shook his head emphatically. No, sir. You will simply have to determine the existence or non-existence of sentient beings in a reasonable length of time. Whether I deal with those sentients or deal with the Collective, I have a charter from Tanaka to acquire the mineral rights to Bog. As depressing as this ball of mud is, that sickening stew of elements he gestured toward the lakeis worth its weight in platinum. Now, if youll excuse me?