Free Vietnam and Other Alien Worlds by Joe Haldeman Page A

that?”
    â€œDeadheading,” I said.
    One of the Council abruptly rose. “Pardon me,” he said in a weird parody of English. “We have to be dead to take this vacation? That seems of little value.”
    I was somewhat startled at that, in view of the other inducement I was going to offer. I told him it was an English term that had nothing to do with heads or death. —Most of the Hartford vessels that leave this planet are nearly empty. It is no great material loss to Hartford to take along nonpaying guests, so long as they do not displace regular passengers. And Hartford will ultimately benefit from an increase in tourism to !ka’al, so they were quite willing to make this agreement with my tribe.
    â€”The market value of this could be quite high, Uncle said.
    â€”As much as five or six hundred shares, I said,—depending on how distant each trip is.
    â€”Very well. And what is your other inducement?
    â€”I won’t say. (I had to grin.)—It is a gift.
    The Council chittered and tweeted in approval. Some even exposed their arms momentarily in a semi-obscene gesture of fellowship. “What kind of game are you playing?” Peter Rabbit said.
    â€œThey like surprises and riddles.” I made a polite sound requesting attention and said,—There is one thing I will tell you about this gift: It belongs to all three mercantile classes. It is of no value, of finite value, and infinite value, all at once, and to all people.
    â€”When considered as being of finite value, Uncle said,—how much is it worth in terms of Hartford stock?
    â€”Exactly one hundred shares.
    He rustled pleasantly at that and went to confer with the others.
    â€œYou’re pretty clever, Dick,” Rabbit said. “What, they don’t get to find out what the last thing is unless they accept?”
    â€œThat’s right. It’s done all the time; I was rather surprised that you didn’t do it.”
    He shook his head. “I’ve only negotiated with !tang off-planet. They’ve always been pretty conventional.”
    I didn’t ask him about all the fishing he had supposedly done here. Uncle came back and stood in front of us.
    â€”There is unanimity. The land will go to the Navarro’s tribe. Now what is the secret inducement, please? How can it be every class at once, to all people?
    I paused to parse out the description in !tangish. —Uncle, do you know of the Earth corporation, or tribe, Immortality Unlimited?
    â€”No.
    Lafitte made a strange noise. I went on. —This Immortality Unlimited provides a useful service to humans who are apprehensive about death. They offer the possibility of revival. A person who avails himself of this service is frozen solid as soon as possible after death. The tribe promises to keep the body frozen until such time as science discovers a way to revive it.
    â€”The service is expensive. You pay the tribe one full share of Hartford stock. They invest it, and take for themselves one tenth of the income, which is their profit. A small amount is used to keep the body frozen. If and when revival is possible, the person is thawed, and cured of whatever was killing him, and he will be comparatively wealthy.
    â€”This has never been done with nonhumans before, but there is nothing forbidding it. Therefore I purchased a hundred “spaces” for !tang; I leave it to you to decide which hundred will benefit.
    â€”You see, this is of no material value to any living person, because you must die to take advantage of it. However, it is also of finite worth, since each space costs one share of Hartford. It is also of infinite worth, because it offers life beyond death.
    The entire Council applauded, a sound like a horde of locusts descending. Peter Rabbit made the noise for attention, and then he made it again, impolitely loud.
    â€”This is all very interesting, and I do congratulate the Navarro for his cleverness. However,