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28. COSTARAMANNH GARIBE; Turomay.
Turomay = Appeal.
Neh = Yes.
Anehya = No.

Sodaensus is at my door! She knocks.

I open it, and there she is. Her face is stern. I get an 'Uh oh!' attack.

"The Koobahbahnnh want to have a hearing on your request to immigrate," she says, without delay. "Tomorrow!" she adds.

She goes to my table, sets it out from the wall a bit, and pulls out a chair. "I could protest and say we need more time. But my instinct is that there's something working on their end of things, making them want to get this in the books sooner. I think they're talking with Briggs, in simple terms, without interpreters, because value is involved, and the only interpreters are you and Eenunh. And they have not asked for you.
Your discussion with Briggs about being paid, apparently a more substantial deal than the hard currency of the crew's living arrangements... they're spending their money quite freely in restaurants and pubs, the stores... apparently our underwear are quite comfortable..."

She laughs! She pulls her yellow-orange pads from her satchel and reads from one and then another.

"Cookie is buying lots of groceries and learning from local cooks how to prepare them. Angelo is studying technology of heating and cooling food. He wants to know about the plumbing. He goes to the water-truck cavern and wants to know where he can see an engine. Engines that need work are taken south to Costaramannh Garibe. They don't want their mechanics to come north for fear of northern terrorists. Northern mechanics won't come south. He... Angelo... and Cookie spend a lot of time together. They're... well behaved... show an interest in women, avoid conflict with men. Women show an interest in them."

She's reading notes. They sound like surveillance reports. My lawyer!

She looks at me, golden irises a'flicker.

"I think we're ready, enough, to argue your case," she says. "I think we can use the money motives of the Koobs to argue your case, and get them to see things your way, our way. I think they'll grant you immigration status, with financial motivation. They want your value in our system, which they can then use in negotiations and commerce with Briggs. If you have to convert it back... if... things... don't go our way... you will likely lose value. I estimate about 30%, at the rate Briggs has agreed to."

"How was that rate arrived at?" I ask. "Do you know?"

"My... sources tell me they simply called numbers back and forth, without interpreters, using credit coins in 10, 30, 50, 70, and 90 units, and a 350 round number. It was very... manipulative on the part of the Koobs, my... source says, because Briggs really showed limited comprehension of the values. My source says his calculations are that there is a 30% value advantage to Emoilihn values. I need more detail on his calculations."

"I think we should estimate the Amero value from what I might pay for a dinner in a restaurant, or groceries in a grocery store, or for underwear, or shoes, or for rent, a variety of things, on Earth, and what I might pay here, for those same products and services, and renegotiate the exchange rate. The Koobs won't like evening out that 30% advantage, but they will like getting my values into my account. Let me get this right; once my values are in my account, the Koobs will exchange it for Emoilihn values, and use the Amero hard currency to buy something Briggs will bring back from Earth. Or already has on the Deutche L. A.?"

Soda looks at me, eyes a'flicker. I ask, "Neh?" (yes) "Or anehya?" (No.)

"Neh! Neh!" she says, as if my question has become clear to her. She's making notes, dinner, rent, underwear.

"Neh," I repeat. "So they want that value in their hands now, so they can make purchases with Briggs. I wonder what they want to buy. Should we," I ask Sodaensus, "try to get into their negotiations as interpreters?"

"I don't know," she says. "Should we do that now, or after we get what we want?"

"I think we should negotiate before I agree to the transfer of funds," to even up the exchange rate for all concerns, "the Earth aliens' side and the Emoilihn side. If I accept the imbalance I doubt I'll ever have a chance to recover. I could accept a twenty percent difference, leave ten percent as incentive for them to accept it. But I'll only get once chance."

"I don't know," I say. We sit in silence a while. Thin Man and Eenunh are coming. I know... somehow. Eenunh opens the door. They come in, close it. Eenunh comes and kisses me.

Soda teases Thin Man, "Why don't you kiss me like that?" He says, "I do!", comes and kisses her. They laugh. There's some private conversation. He goes to a lily-pad chair and sits. Eenunh squeezes in to lean in my lap. Soda catches them up on our conversation with a remarkable succinctness! I love my lawyer!

We all agree on the strategy. We will attend the hearing, tomorrow. Soda will complain of the... lack of notice... but agree to go forward. It will be a simple, single diversionary tactics, to give the impression we are not prepared. But... we are... prepared. I hug Eenunh, feel her ribs. Has she lost weight? Or... gained. I try to think positive, that this is going to work, that I am going to... become... an Emoilihn Citizen. Distracted by this warm green woman in my arms, in my lap, I'm not hearing Soda, until she says the word for 'appeal', 'turomay' and repeats the name Costaramannh Garibe. I perk up, pay attention, repeat 'turomay' and 'Costaramannh Garibe' with an interrogative tone.

We... may... lose... here... and have to... turomay... to a body of Koobahbahnnh of higher... authority... in... the city to the south, Costaramannh Garibe. It's where... Eenunh and Tinunh... lived.

Soda and Thin Man leave. We have much to think about... between now... and tomorrow.

In bed, my house grows dark as the light-emitting substances detect the lack of movement in the room. Eenunh laid with me a while, dozed, went home to Tinunh. Soda and Thin Man went home. Suddenly, being alone is... oppressive. I had not counted on an appeal, and having to travel to some new body of Koobs who have not had first hand experience with what we're doing. I scheme that Briggs has to go there, take the new group up in the shuttle to the Deutche L. A., wine and dine them, so to speak, make new deals with a whole new gang of Emoilihn political types. It... is hardship. It is... a whole new level of... uncertainty. My hopes lifted in scheming with Sodaensus evaporate. I think optimistically, that we have rehearsed here, and will simply replay our game there... if it even happens. We'll see.

Eenunh is at my door. I sit up. She comes in, comes to the bed, kisses me, goes to the bathroom, comes back with my toothbrush, takes my hand and leads me to the door, out, closes the door, takes me home with her. Tinunh's half asleep, says my name sleepily. We go to bed. We go to sleep.

"It's going to be alright," she says, her lips lifting off mine just enough to say it. She spoons against me, makes my arm hug her, and falls asleep. Her breathing assures me it is so, and I fall asleep.

I dream of a foreign city,
and Eenunh... crossing a street at an intersection, a crosswalk,
lots of other people,
and I get there and can't find her.

I awake. It is morning. Tinunh is leaning over her mother to hug me, climbs into the bed and spoons against her mother. I make room, Eenunh makes room, they talk, they laugh. We're all quiet. Sleep. Tinunh stirs, starts getting ready for school. Our day begins.