Hidden Empire by Kevin J. Anderson Page B

itself, hardening as it grew older like a fungal coral reef.
    “It looks like bubbly whipped cream,” Rlinda said.
    Sarein smiled at the reference. “I loved whipped cream when I was on Earth. But this is hard and filled with gaps and holes—enough
     to build an entire city.”
    Sarein escorted her through the marvelous organic monument. “The first colonists from the
Caillié
abandoned their prefabricated shelters early on and moved into these fungus reefs.” She rapped her knuckles on the spongy
     yet sturdy wall. “Then they augmented, decorated, and added to the city. Plumbing, lighting strips, coolant systems, power
     conduits, and communication nodes.”
    “It’s not exactly primitive.” Rlinda’s eyes brightened. “Still, seems to me there could be a market here for a few new amenities.”
     Sarein flashed a glance at the large merchant woman, smiling in agreement, though she didn’t say it out loud.
    “Tell me, though,” Rlinda said. “How is it that I’m the one who came to your attention? The Hansa has hundreds of merchants
     who would love to make their pitch.”
    “I thought of
you
, Rlinda Kett, because you applied for licenses to explore the marketability of certain food items and jungle fabrics. Everyone
     else who pokes around on Theroc is only interested in the green priests. You seem different.” She lowered her voice. “A few
     test cargoes may well be the wedge that we need with my parents. You could be our first intermediary.”
    Rlinda was barely able to believe her good fortune. “If that’s my duty, I’m happy to serve.”
    Sarein wore a dreamy look. “Chairman Wenceslas is also very supportive of any venture that brings my world into the larger
     fold of galactic commerce. He told me so himself.”
    They entered a large chamber that opened to a breathtaking view of the tree-strewn forest levels. Sarein gestured for Rlinda
     to sit at a long table of iron-hard wood spread with a hundred colorful delicacies. Rlinda gaped hungrily at the selection
     of trays and goblets, decanters of juices and fermented drinks, steaming hot beverages and chilled ices swirled with colored
     sugars and glistening edible seeds.
    “Before we can properly discuss the market potential of Theron products, I’ve arranged for you to sample our best. I hope
     you don’t mind.”
    “Not at all! A merchant is required to personally vouch for the quality and desirability of all food products.” Rlinda patted
     her large stomach and wide thighs. “As you can see, I enjoy my work a great deal.”
    Sarein began sliding platters toward her, rattling off the names and derivations of each dish. She pointed to one after another
     after another. “Rindberries, splurts, puckers… hmmm, seedberries—you have to be
very
hungry or very patient to put up with these things.” She pushed the plate aside without even letting Rlinda taste one.
    “Jigglefruit, sweet and gelatinous, but it makes a big mess. Dangoes. Napples—very crunchy, but you might get sleepy if you
     eat too many. These white things are pair-pears, because they grow double on the branches. We’ve also got eight kinds of our
     best nectar, and urns of pollen used for spices, spreads, even as candy.”
    The plump merchant valiantly tried to keep up with tasting each item Sarein offered, bowl after bowl of varieties of nuts.
     “Perrin seeds, saltnuts, crackles. Here, these spreadnuts have a very creamy interior. The
Caillié
colonists named everything in a rush during their first years of sampling the foods on Theroc. Later on, they figured out
     the detailed scientific taxonomy… but who really needs it?”
    Since Theroc had no native mammals, the people ate caterpillar fillets, insect steaks, lightly browned and covered with a
     tart sauce made from fermented fruits. Rlinda hesitated at the thought of eating insects, then shrugged and fell to her meal
     with gusto. One delicacy, equivalent to the richest veal, was sliced cutlets from a