Chapter 16: King Ideb
Kramer and his crew sat around a low, circular stone table on cushions woven from the surrounding jungle. Sitting with them were seven older natives, the Village Elders of the M’Abuutan. Raised on higher cushions, and flanked on either side by two women, was King Ideb.
Young native boys and girls brought food and drink to the table, showing equal respect to both their own Elders and the Earth visitors.
On the wooden plate set before Kramer were arranged a selection of leaves and stalks, colors ranging from deep green to almost white. Alongside was a purple fruit, slightly larger than the average apple back on Earth. The drink, in a simple wooden beaker, was dark and cloudy. None of it looked particularly appetizing, despite Kramer’s growing hunger.
He was aware of his crews’ eyes on him, watching for his lead. The Elders, however, watched King Ideb, and it was clear to Kramer that the King was, by local custom, the first to taste the food. He too looked towards the King and waited.
King Ideb lifted a dark green leaf in gnarled hands, carefully folded it three times and placed it in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, followed by a short drink from his own, more ornate wooden beaker. Then, to Kramer’s surprise, he turned and nodded towards him.
It seemed honored guests were the second in line to eat.
Kramer, after only a moment’s hesitation, picked out a leaf of similar color to that chosen by the King from the variety on his plate. It felt rubbery in his fingers, a thin slime dripping from the stalk. Fearing that to refuse would show offence, he folded it three times, as he had seen the King do, and pushed it into his mouth. The texture was unpleasant and the immediate taste foul. Nevertheless, he chewed, trying not to gag as bitter liquid, pressed from the leaf, slipped down his throat. He kept chewing, refusing to look towards either the King or his own crew, until he felt the toughness of the leaf was sufficiently broken down. Then, through sheer force of will, he swallowed. The solid mass of the leaf was, fortunately, not as repellent as the juice, and he was able to keep it down without too much difficulty. Lifting his beaker, he took a cautious sip, finding the liquid sweet and a pleasing counter to the bitter taste left in his mouth by the leaf. He took a longer drink.
King Ideb nodded, smiling. As he did so, the Elders around the table began to eat their food. It seemed the ritual was over. Kramer’s crew also began, uncertainly, to eat and drink, several of them gagging at the strange textures and flavors.
Kramer ate more of the leaves and took a bite of the fruit, which was largely tasteless, but not too unpleasant. Given a choice, he would have selected Earth food, but their rations were all but gone. The native food was filling enough to satisfy his immediate hunger. That was what mattered.
While there was some muted conversation between the Elders at the table, King Ideb ate in silence. Kramer, too, said nothing, ignoring several attempts by members of his crew to draw him into conversation. He wanted to demonstrate to King Ideb that he, Kramer, was as important among his own people as the King was among the M’Abuutan. He wanted to be able to deal on level terms.
As soon as plates were empty, the serving boys and girls took them away. The beakers, in contrast, were constantly refilled, never allowed to grow dry. There was no second course of food and, as the Elders fell silent, it was clear there was to be no relaxed after-dinner conversation either.
Kramer, determined not to be seen as in any way disrespectful or less civilized than the natives, glared at his own crew until they too ceased their low murmurings.
One of the serving boys now ran to the King’s side. When the boy spoke, his voice was clear, and he spoke in excellent Galactic.
“My name is Ysang. I worked in the kitchens at the Palace, pretending to be their friend. They taught me to speak their tongue. I will be the King’s interpreter.”
Kramer smiled and nodded.
“Thank you Ysang, and please thank the King for an excellent meal.”
King Ideb spoke a few quiet words to Ysang and the boy spoke again.
“The King wishes it known that he can understand your tongue well enough, but, as you know, does not speak it so good. He says he is glad you enjoyed the food, and now would like to hear more of your story of how you came to our land.”
Kramer told the story, glossing over the culpability of Earth in the original colonizing of the already occupied planet and, instead, emphasizing how he and his crew had been sent to fight the evil forces currently living in the Palace. He explained how his ship had been damaged and they were forced to abandon it. He avoided mentioning the injured crew left at the crash site, and finished his story with their capture by M’b’gera and his hunters. He told it well and ensured that he and his crew were seen as heroes, on the same side as King Ideb and his people.
The King listened to the whole story without moving, his eyes closed. Several times Kramer wondered whether the old man had fallen asleep, but he kept talking, trusting he was doing the right thing, according to M’Abuutan law. As he finished, King Ideb opened his eyes, nodded and smiled. He seemed to approve of the story. Now he spoke to Ysang and the boy interpreted for Kramer and his crew.
“My name is King Ideb and I come from a long line of kings here on Frihet. My Great Grandfather was king when the Palace people first arrived. He greeted them as honored guests, but they betrayed him, killed many of us and drove the rest out. My Great Grandfather was executed and my Grandfather, though only a boy at the time, became the new king.
“It was a bad time for us, the M’Abuutan, the true Frihetians. We existed across the globe, in all the most temperate zones. We were not savages or barbarians. We had technology, science, an understanding of our planet. Although we had not yet explored there, we had a growing interest in the stars and other worlds. All of this was taken from us by the invaders. We were peaceful and did not have the weapons to resist. They pushed us out and we were driven, eventually, to hide in the jungles and deserts. All those places considered uninhabitable by the new rulers of Frihet.
“We left behind our science, our peaceful observations, and turned instead to hunting, killing, just to survive. Over time, we have shed our civilized clothes in the relentless heat of the jungle, finding the construction of new garments difficult and, in the end, unnecessary. We have become the naked savages, the barbarians that they believed us to be.”
Kramer, knowing the invaders the king talked of were Earthmen, said nothing. But he listened intently, nodding where he felt it appropriate.
“The Palace is our enemy,” continued King Ideb, through Ysang. “Even though it has so recently changed rulers, it still remains our enemy. We send a few people at a time to take on menial roles there, spying for us. Our nakedness amuses them, in some cases arouses them, but in all cases ensures they continue to see us as ignorant natives, beneath their contempt. Our people are all but invisible there, and many of the palace people talk of private and delicate matters in their unnoticed presence. We know much of what happens. And we know secret ways in and out. All this will be used when we are strong enough to attack them.
“I have lived for almost two hundred years. We live long lives, longer since we were forced to revert to nature. I may not live to see us rise up and take back our planet, but it will happen. One day.
“You and your people are enemies of the Palace, and that makes you our friends. You are welcome to stay here among us as long as you wish. Join us, if that is your desire, and live with us. If there is some way we can help you, let us know.”
King Ideb, followed moments later by the boy, fell silent.
Kramer, at his most diplomatic and most charming, smiled.
“Thank you, King Ideb, and thank you to your people. We are humbled by your generosity and accept the invitation to stay here awhile. Perhaps there may be ways we can even help each other?”
At this, King Ideb smiled.