A Voraxan and His Voracities

An interplanetary negotiation is resolved with pastry.

A Voraxan and His Voracities

“They’re late.”

“Honestly, there’s very little incentive for them to show up at all,” my assistant, Marie, rightly noted.

“They’ll be here,” I brooded, unsure myself. In this trade dispute, our intelligence was dubious, and our leverage, uncertain. “I have to admit, when President Valenzuela appointed me to this interplanetary trade position, I had no idea it would be so…different.”

“That’s because the Galactic Commerce Guild is still fairly uncharted territory. Your past international negotiations are ancient history,” she said. “There aren’t any countries anymore, just Earth and the planets of the Guild.”

“Yeah, the Guild,” I sighed. “You know, they have a saying that goes, ‘Never come between a Voraxan and his voracities.’”

“What does that even mean?”

I smirked back at her, “If you looked closer at what we’ve been selling them, you’d have some clue, and a new deal should shut down any black market.”

“They’re here.”

A half dozen new vessels instantly blocked the stars. Hulking and bulbous, their hulls were advanced, smooth and polished to a pearlescent sheen, a drastic departure from our cruder, more primitive Earth ships. A rotund form materialized on the emitter, touching thick fingertips to his forehead, the typical salutation for the Voraxans. “Earther Chen,” he greeted.

“Commissioner Hallux.” I returned the gesture. “Our diplomatic suite is ready to receive you.”

“Frankly, I’m not even sure why we’re here,” Hallux replied. “Vorax is quite satisfied with our current arrangement.”

“But Earth is not,” I replied. “A two hundred percent tariff on Earthen wheat. Six hundred percent on isoglucose, hardly a fair exchange for the trifle of refractory gold ore and comet dust we’re receiving in return, with no tax on our end, by the way.”

“Humph,” Hallux grumbled. “Those items are of great value to Earth. And surely, we should expect some profit.”

“I suspect profit’s not your only motivator here.”

“Meaning?”

“Let’s meet on our ship, to see if we can work something out.”

__________

Commissioner Hallux’s stubbed nose sniffed the air as he stepped through the airlock. Almost as round as he was tall, he remarked, “Your ship smells…plain.”

I hadn’t a clue how to respond, so I merely welcomed the commissioner aboard and escorted him to the diplomatic suite. A chair, adequate for his girth, waited at the end of a long conference table. I took a seat at the other end and Marie handed me a data pad with the relevant information. “Vorax has been purchasing our agricultural exports since Sol month six, past first contact.”

Hallux leaned into the whispering of his own assistants, replying, “That’s correct.”

“Nearly 1.5 billion metric tons of wheat annually. Two million metric tons of isoglucose. 3,000 tons of vanilla beans, and an astounding amount of cacao.”

“Your point?”

“Sounds like you’re baking a cake,” I noted plainly.

“Hmph.”

“I think Earth can do better,” I replied. “Your tariffs leave us with little to no incentive at all.”

He snorted, “There’s no disputing your world has some of the finest grain in the galaxy…minimal genetic modification.”

“The Lorayans seem to agree,” I revealed. “They’ve offered to buy your portion for 10% more, and without the tariff.”

“That would decimate our supply!”

“Then you’ll need to work with us here,” I demanded. “Or we can just deal with them instead.”

“That’s outrageous!” he grunted.

“So is being taken advantage of! Perhaps I have something to sweeten your deal.” A polished robot rolled up carrying a covered tray. It placed it in front of the commissioner, removing the lid. “I present to you…donuts.”

“Hallux’s demeanor changed instantly, his mouth watering and fingertips rustling. “Donuts you say?” he marveled. “I’ve heard they’re an Earth delicacy!” Scooping a half dozen at once, he drizzled each one into his gaping mouth, then slumped back into his seat, intoxicated.

“A protected earth recipe,” I lied. “I’ll ensure you get a freighter-full every month for as long as we’re in agreement.”

The human pastry was the most marvelous thing the commissioner had ever sampled, priceless and delectable in every measure. “Deal!” he agreed. “I’ll see to it the tariff is lifted, and we’ll match the Lorayan offer.” He grinned. “Adding a regular supply of these irreplaceable bits of heaven every month…I’m not sure who’s getting the better deal!” Hallux rose. “A pleasure.” He wiped the crumbs from the corners of his mouth before heading back to his ship.

“How’d you know that would work?” Marie marveled.

“Like I said – ‘Never come between a Voraxan and his voracities.’”