~*~
MO-126 watched them for a while, loosening the dirt with their sticks and then scooping it out with their hands, but their conversation seemed to have come to an end when their physical labors began. He hoped to hear more about what they thought about the traders. He knew that some primitives believed the traders possessed magic, which simply meant that they believed the traders could do something they could not and that they could not explain how they did it. In this case, the inexplicable ability involved traveling beyond and between villages. Most humans never went more than half a day’s journey from the place of their birth in their lifetime, and the corporation encouraged this. It made it easier to prevent the spread of new ideas, among other things. Communication between different human populations could lead to several different developments that could make the project manager’s job much more difficult.
He left the two boys to their digging and made his way toward the river. He saw nothing out of the ordinary there and wandered around the rest of the village until Tam called to let him know he was ready to leave. One advantage of being a dog was that no one expected him to help load or unload trade goods. Without proper hands, he could be of little help in any event.
“What did you find out,” Tam asked him.
“They’re building a longhouse,” the android dog replied, “just as the headman told you. It wasn’t his son’s idea originally, not that I suppose it matters.”
“Anything to be concerned about?”
“Some clever use of ropes, but nothing suggesting any real appreciation for geometry, if that’s what you mean. I didn’t see any clear sign of technology-development or scientific-discover faults.”
“Good.”
The humanoid android made one last check of the pack animals, which were now loaded with grain, vegetables, and a few primitive bits of artwork. MO-126 turned at the sound of approaching bare feet slapping the dirt. Utrek, the young man he noticed earlier, approached them at a run, his hands still covered in dirt from his labors on the longhouse.
“Master Trader,” he said, stopping before Tam. “I want to come with you. I want to join the Traders.”
The trade android eyed the young man with bemusement. Such requests, usually from teenage humans of an adventurous of foolhardy nature, were not unprecedented, but they did not occur often.
“This is not possible. One must be born a Master Trader,” Tam said, giving the prescribed reply for dealing with the subject.
“Why?” the boy asked.
The question seemed to catch the trader off guard, and he hesitated. Primitives were not supposed to ask why, and few ever did.
“He’s waiting for an answer, Tam,” MO-126 teased his partner. “I’m curious as to what you’re going to tell him, too.”
“Please,” the young man continued. “I’m not afraid, and I learn quickly. I can be useful to you.”
“No, you can’t come with us,” Tam finally told him. “This is simply the way things are. Why do you want to leave here anyway? This is a good life for, um, people like you. Villagers, I mean. Villagers should stay in their villages, with their families and friends as they are meant to.”
“But I want to see new places, visit different villages. I want to see how other people live and learn what they know.”
The trade android shook his head. “They’re all pretty much the same. You’re not missing anything.”
“I still want to see them.”
“That’s simply not possible. You can’t come with us.”
The boy’s eyes narrowed with determination. “Then I’ll go by myself.”
The young primitive’s attitude could present a problem. He might be injured through some accident or even be attacked by wild dogs, although such cases were extremely rare. Those would not be problems from the PM’s perspective. The boy’s quick demise would actually prevent the real problem. Fortunately for him, Galactic Federation law prohibited the corporation from taking active steps to achieve this result. A more likely outcome would be that the lad would survive and eventually come across another human settlement where he might exchange information and, worse, encourage some people there to explore and find even more villages. The PM could not allow the primitives to wander all over the planet trading goods and information. They were already difficult enough to manage.
“That would be a serious mistake,” Tam warned him. “You don’t know what’s out there.”
“That’s why I need to go!” the boy insisted.
“Humans,” Tam said silently. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand them. They are such a peculiar species. I think they look for problems.”
“I think you may be right,” his partner replied, but unlike his companion, he no longer considered this a negative trait.
The trader focused a cold, serious gaze on the boy before him. “The ways are dangerous. There are great distances between villages. You will have no shelter at night. No friends to help you. Your home spirits and ancestors cannot protect you if you leave them behind. You will be alone.”
“If you can do it, I can do it,” the boy said.
“Are you sure?” the trader asked suggestively.
“I don’t see why not. I can bring food and a blanket, and I even know how to make fire if I have to. What else do I need?”
“You won’t know until you need it, will you? And then it will be too late.”
“You’re just trying to scare me. Some people say the Master Traders have protective magic, but I don’t think so. I think they just know stuff we don’t.”
“He’s got you pegged, there,” MO-126 said.
“You’re not helping,” the trade android transmitted.
“You want help? Here’s help. The boy’s name is Utrek. Impress him with your magic.”
The trader grinned. “Magic? What could possibly make anyone think we have magic…, Utrek?”
The boy’s eyes widened. “How do you know my name?”
“I’m sure I must have heard it somewhere. It certainly isn’t magic.”
“Clever,” MO-126 said. “And you didn’t even lie to him.” Androids found outright lying difficult. They could do it, but it made them uncomfortable. Being intentionally incorrect upset their inherent need for accuracy and made them feel like they were about to develop an imagination or suffer some other malfunction. They could, however, bend truths into knots no primitive logician could find the ends to.
“Thank you. I thought it was pretty good, too.”
Tam continued to stare at Utrek as if the two were having a contest, which the trader eventually won when the boy turned and walked away.
“That should do for now,” the trade android signaled as he took the leads of the pack animals, “but I think we should call for special surveillance just to be on the safe side.”
“I’ll do it,” MO-126 said. He switched frequencies and sent a message to Field Operations. “Surveillance Drones requested to monitor Semiautonomous Production Cell 42-A. Adolescent male primitive known as Utrek poses an unsupervised migration risk. Mitigation actions may be required.”
They left the village, plodding slowly over trackless terrain. In a way, he regretted the necessity of restricting the humans’ freedom of movement, but he understood that it really was for their own good. Allowing them to run free would be poor stewardship. Not only would it harm the corporation’s interests, it would harm the humans as well. If left unmanaged, their territorial instincts could surface and they might even harm one another.