1. Suspicious Trade

When Prebuha awoke, eyes closed, she knew the river had flooded severely.

Now, dear reader, you probably think her house was halfway underwater. That she wasn’t in bed anymore, but carried away by the waves to no man’s land. If anyone could sleep through that, it would be Prebuha.

But no, she knew it because the Indus flooded twice a year, always on the exact same day. Its water would strengthen the plants and deposit useful resources on the beach.

More importantly, it meant work to be done. So Prebuha stayed in bed, eyes closed, and—

“Get up, lazybones!” her mother yelled. “You must finish your tasks before Midsun.”

She groaned. “I’m sick.”

“You’re not. And your tasks are very important today! So hurry!”

Prebuha was a sloth with strong claws that now grabbed her sleeping branch tightly. Mother ripped her off of it, but the act didn’t disturb Prebuha’s faint smile.

“Important? Have I finally become the Regionleader? Can I give commands now? Mother, build three Great Baths in my name and—”

“Shut it!” She’d never seen mother this angry. And she was usually so sweet!

She was nearly thrown out of her room.

“Your task is to trade with Sumiser.”

“Ugh. That’s what you call important?”

She shouldn’t have said that.

Mother exploded. “If it goes wrong, we’ll be without clothes, food, building materials, everything!”

Head hanging low, Prebuha shuffled out of their home. Had mother eaten the wrong thing? Had somebody stepped on her tail?

Their home of clay stones was three stories tall and, specifically for sloths, built around a tree with strong branches. It attached to a thin winding road that connected all the homes in their Region. She and mother followed it to find the perfectly straight main road, where hundreds of creatures busily traded with merchants.

Everything was done through trade, dear reader. Money hadn’t been invented. If you wanted new clothes, you had to find something of equal value to give in return. But that kind of everyday trade was surely not the important task for which Prebuha was chosen.

A young wolf messenger bumped into her shoulder, then continued running in a panic. He was only stopped by an old Gosti male, an ape-like creature, who whispered something into his ear. She couldn’t make out the words of this suspicious conversation.

Mother led her through the inner city walls. Then the middle city walls. Each Region was surrounded by its own walls, and a large city like this would quickly grow into hundreds of Regions. Prebuha was sick of walking, walking, walking to find the gates in these stupid walls, so she started using vines to climb over them instead.

She landed in a puddle of water. But they were still deep inside the city. Pff. And they told her the city was built on a heightened plateau and would never flood! Liars.

Until they finally reached the outer city walls. Up ahead the Citadel called to them, a separate area—completed walled off, obviously—that contained shared supplies and important buildings.

With a deep sigh, Prebuha trekked through the water to reach the other side. Hundreds of creatures splashed around her. Most collected gemstones and clay, leaning forward so much that their noses touched the waves. Some appeared panicked, as if they lost something valuable to the waves.

But mother didn’t head to the storages. She stopped outside of the Clayskipper’s hut.

“What is this? A joke? Did you pull me from my warm bed just to—”

Mother slammed her paw against her daughter’s mouth. “Dear, did you not hear me? You will trade with Sumiser. They do not speak our language.”

“Pff. Lazybones,” she said grumpily. But her heart was on fire. How on earth would she make this work? Why did they pick her and not someone, you know, qualified and motivated?

She waded into the hut. The Clayskipper had smartly arranged all his creations on the higher shelves. Mother grabbed one clay chunk after another and threw them into a basket. Prebuha stepped closer and saw they were Bulla: hardened clay with simple symbols cut into them.

The Clayskipper, an echidna of middle age who was always calculating something, was busy drawing the next Bullae. While the clay was still soft, he pressed a symbol into it with thin twigs. Then he placed them on his roof to harden in the sun. They’d carry their symbol forever once the day was over; near Endsun.

Prebuha had seen it before. Only now she understood that the Clayskipper wasn’t just trying to be creative.

They explained all the symbols to her. A bird meant bird meat. A fish meant fish meat. A seed meant plant seeds. It was pretty self-explanatory, she thought as she yawned.

Midsun had almost arrived when she, carrying a heavy basket, stepped from the hut. Again she heard whispers around her. She strongly felt that the nervous creatures looked at her as they did it.

The last clay chunks had hardened. This was her last chance.

“Mom, what if it goes wrong? I’ve never done this. Why must I do this?”

Mother looked me over with a stern look. “You have no idea how much I traded to give you this opportunity! We … we’re not in a strong position. We have little to offer, but much to ask.”

“But why give me this—”

Mothers smile was short-lived. “Dear, none of us has your amazing … talent for stubbornly getting your way.”

“No. I say no. Too much work.”

Mother dropped four Bulla into the waves. Another woman had to jump in to save them before they were lost forever.

“Not an option! A thousand days of punishment if you don’t do as I say!” What happened this morning? Did an entire herd step on mother’s tail?

“You think you’re amazing?” Prebuha said. “Talk about civilization and everything? Well, well, how amazing can you be if little girls have no freedom to do what they want!?”

“Dear, civilization means giving up a bit of freedom on purpose, to be stronger together. No better way to learn that … than by meeting another civilization.”

They left for the harbor. Larsh, the son of their current Regionleader Larsham, was sent along to make sure Prebuha did her job and didn’t secretly return to her soft bed. The hyena was nervous. Red eyes and deep bags under his eyes betrayed how little he had slept. He also whispered suspiciously, but to himself.

There she saw the meager boat she’d been given, including four young wolves to carry and store her supplies. Mother pushed into her back until both her feet stood on deck. When she dropped the basket, two planks broke.

They left in a hurry, as Larsh absently waved goodbye

She was tempted to head to Omako first. Much closer. She could trade for camels, which she had always wanted—and would mean no more walking. It would—

“Ship ahoy!” a wolf yelled.

“Impossible,” she said. “Those lazy Sumisers never leave their own territory. We’re far too kind to always go to them.”

Yet she followed this extended paw. And well—there it was, a Sumiser ship.

She checked the symbol on the sails against a special blue Bulla. The signature matched exactly with that of the traders she was supposed to meet. What were they doing here?

Not much later, two Gosti stood on her deck. Their own ship looked as if a toddler had made it, so she understood.

The ape-likes with their huge eyes had bound a cloth around their head against the scorching sun. They pointed at the basket and said something to each other. Then they laughed at her.

Prebuha ignored it. Stay focused. Be smart. If they forced her to trade, well, then she’d perform the best trade ever!

She didn’t have her own Bulla signature, so she’d received the one from her Regionlader. An honor, they told her. Do not lose it.

When she showed that, the Gosti took her more seriously.

She picked the right beige clay from her basket. First she pointed at herself, then at the traders—the sign that this was her offer. A lot of clay, a lot of meat and plant-based food, and a mountain of blue and red gemstones. They found them worthless, but Sumiser apparently found them a sign of wealth and status.

The Gosti frowned. They grabbed their own stones—slightly bigger and tinted blue—and presented their own offer. A little cotton and food, great. A little bronze and another metal, which mother claimed let them build far stronger houses.

And that was all.

Outrageous!

She withdrew part of her offer: the food. Always the most important part. Then she showed the Bulla with a sword. She didn’t know what the object was, but had learned that the Gosti understood it as that “important metal”. She pointed at them, then to herself: this is what she wanted from them.

The Gosti shook their head.

Prebuha shrugged and turned around to fake walking away.

One of the traders screeched. When she turned around, their offer of metal had risen by five entire chunks.

She smiled. Now they were getting somewhere. She knew Sumiser contained many animal species who ate no meat, so she increased her offer of plant food, but only in exchange for more cotton.

The traders discussed for a while. With a sigh, her new offer was accepted.

How far could she go? What—she realized why the traders had come all this way. They were in an even bigger panic! They didn’t want to delay the trade any longer!

Could she abuse that?

She withdrew all the meat from her offer. Her civilization had to eat too, you know? Then she demanded something of which she knew the Sumiser had it: camels. Five of them. And more cotton for a second bed.

She grinned as she displayed her final offer.

Their mouths fell open wide. The Gosti played with the Bulla in their own little fingers. Their discussion grew louder and angrier.

Until they withdrew everything and walked away.

No, no. Don’t give in. They’re bluffing. They—no, they are really leaving.

“Wait!” Prebuha yelled.

They didn’t wait. The smallest of the two rummaged through their basket and found a much larger, flat clay tablet.

He threw it over his shoulder, nearly in her face. Then they climbed into the ropes of their ship, as elegantly as they climbed into trees, and sailed away.

The tablet contained no offer, no Bulla. It was a message written from right to left, composed using those few written symbols they had, then connected with some arrows and dots. Not a real language, but enough for basic accounting.

Which meant she had trouble deciphering the message, until she made her final guess.

Everyone must leave now! Terrible disasters are coming, I am sure. I’ve already fled to Sumiser. Make haste!

The bottom contained a signature. Three waves, the middle slightly longer and thicker, to signify their beloved Indus river.

The signature of her own Regionleader.