—Then allow me to triple the quantities of gin, bourbon, and brandy. I will add two tons each of vermouth and hydrochloric acid, for flavoring. (That came to about H710.)
—This is gratefully accepted. Does your tribe, Lafitte, care to include these as a subset of your final offer?
—Final offer, Uncle?
—Two legs, two arms, two eyes, two mouths, two offers.
—I die, Lafitte said. — When they bury me, the ground caves in. It swallows up the city and all die. O the embarrassment. Look, Uncle, that’s the market law for material objects. You can’t move land around; its ownership is an abstraction.
Uncle exposed one arm — the Council tittered — and reached down and thumped the floor twice. —The land is solid, therefore material. You can move it around with your machines; I myself saw you do this in my youth, when the spaceport was built. The market law applies.
Lafitte smiled slowly. —Then the Navarro’s tribe can no longer bid. He’s had two.
Uncle turned toward the Council and gestured toward Rabbit, and said, —Is he standing on feet? And they cracked and snuffled at the joke. To Lafitte, he said, —The Navarro’s offer was rejected, and he made a substitution. Yours was not rejected. Do you care to make his amended offer a subset of yours?
—If mine is rejected, can I amend it?
This brought an even louder reaction. —Poor one, Uncle said. —No feet, no hands. That would be a third offer. You must see that.
—All right. Lafitte began pacing. He said he would start with my amended offer and add the following things. The list was very long. It started with a hydroelectric generator and proceeded with objects of less and less value until he got down to individual bottles of exotic liqueurs. By then I realized he was giving me a message: he was coming down as closely as he could to exactly a thousand shares of Hartford. So we both had the same limit. When he finished he looked right at me and raised his eyebrows.
Victory is sweet. If the Rabbit had bothered to spend a day or two in the market, watching transactions, he wouldn’t have tried to defeat me by arithmetic; he wouldn’t have tried by accretion to force me into partnership.
Uncle looked at me and bared his arms for a split second. —Your tribe, Navarro? Would you include this offer as a subset to your final offer?
What Rabbit apparently didn’t know was that this bargaining by pairs of offers was a formalism: if I did simply add to his last offer, the haggling would start over again, with each of us allowed another pair. I unlocked my briefcase and took out two documents.
—No. I merely wish to add two inducements to my own previous offer (sounds of approval and expectation).
Lafitte stared, his expression unreadable.
—These contracts are in Spanish. Can you read them, Uncle?
—No, but there are two of us who can.
—I know how you like to travel. (I handed him one of the documents.) —This allows each of five hundred !tang a week’s vacation on the planet of its choice, any planet where Starlodge has facilities.
“What?” Lafitte said, in English. “How the hell can you do that?”
“Deadheading,” I said.
One of the Council abruptly rose. “Pardon me,” he said in a weird parody of English. “We have to be dead to take this vacation? That seems of little value.”
I was somewhat startled at that, in view of the other inducement I was going to offer. I told them it was an English term that had nothing to do with heads or death. —Most of the Hartford vessels that leave this planet are nearly empty. It is no great material loss to Hartford to take along nonpaying guests, so long as they do not displace regular passengers. And Hartford will ultimately benefit from an increase in tourism to !ka’al, so they were quite willing to make this agreement with my tribe.
—The market value of this could be quite high, Uncle said.
—As much as five or six hundred shares, I said, —depending on how distant each trip is.
—Very well. And what is your other inducement?
—I won’t say. (I had to grin.) —It is a gift.
The Council chattered and tweeted in approval. Some even exposed their arms momentarily in a semi-obscene gesture of fellowship. “What kind of game are you playing?” Peter Rabbit said.
“They like surprises and riddles.” I made a polite sound requesting attention and said, —There is one thing I will tell you about this gift: it belongs to all three mercantile classes. It is of no value, of finite value, and infinite value, all at once, and to all people.
—When considered as being of finite value, Uncle said, — how much is it worth in terms of Hartford stock?
—Exactly one hundred shares.
He rustled pleasantly at that and went to confer with the others.
“You’re pretty clever, Dick,” Rabbit said. “What, they don’t get to find out what the last thing is unless they accept?”
“That’s right. It’s done all the time; I was rather surprised that you didn’t do it.”
He shook his head. “I’ve only negotiated with !tang off-planet. They’ve always been pretty conventional.”
I didn’t ask him about all the fishing he had supposedly done here. Uncle came back and stood in front of us.
—There is unanimity. The land will go to Navarro’s tribe. Now what is the secret inducement, please? How can it be every class at once, to all people?
I paused to parse out the description in !tanglish. —Uncle, do you know of the Earth corporation, or tribe, Immortality Unlimited?
—No.
Lafitte made a strange noise. I went on. —This Immortality Unlimited provides a useful service to humans who are apprehensive about death. They offer the possibility of revival. A person who avails himself of this service is frozen solid as soon as possible after death. The tribe promises to keep the body frozen until such time as science discovers a way to revive it.
—The service is expensive. You pay the tribe one full share of Hartford stock. They invest it, and take for themselves one-tenth of the income, which is their profit. A small amount is used to keep the body frozen. If and when revival is possible, the person is thawed, and cured of whatever was killing him, and he will be comparatively wealthy.
—This has never been done with nonhumans before, but there is nothing forbidding it. Therefore I purchased a hundred “spaces” for !tang; I leave it to you to decide which hundred will benefit.
—You see, this is of no material value to any living person, because you must die to take advantage of it. However, it is also of finite worth, since each space costs one share of Hartford. It is also of infinite worth, because it offers life beyond death.
The entire Council applauded, a sound like a horde of locusts descending. Peter Rabbit made the noise for attention, and then he made it again, impolitely loud.