“I will give you more, superior of mine, but what will you give me in return? Ginger is rare and expensive; I have had to pay much to get even this little amount for you.” Yi Min was lying in his teeth, but Ssofeg didn’t know that. Nor did the people from whom he got ginger know he was selling it to the scaly devils. They would eventually figure it out, of course, at which point competition would cut into his profits. But for now-
For now, Ssofeg let out another hiss, this one redolent of distress. “Already I have given you much, very much.” His tailstump lashed in agitation. “But I must know this-this delight once more. Here.” He took from around his neck something that most closely resembled the field glasses Yi Min had once seen a Japanese officer using. “These see in darkness as well as light. I will report them missing. Quick, give me another taste.”
“I hope I will be able to get any kind of price for them,” Yi Min said peevishly. In fact, he wondered whether the Nationalists, the Communists, or the Japanese would pay most for the new trinket. He had contacts with all three; the little scaly devils were naive if they thought mere wire cut a prison camp off from the world around it.
Such decisions could wait. By the way Ssofeg stood swaying slightly, he couldn’t Yi Min gave him another pinch of ginger. He licked it off the apothecary’s palm. When his pleasure-filled shiver finally stopped, he said, “If I report much more gear as missing, I shall surely be called to account. Yet I must have ginger. What shall I do.”
Yi Min had been hoping for just that question. As casually as he could, keeping any trace of a chortle from his voice, he said, “I could sell you a lot of ginger now.” He showed Ssofeg the spicepot full of it.
The scaly devil’s tailstump lashed again. “I must have it! But how?”
“You buy it from me now,” Yi Min repeated. “Then you keep some-enough for yourself-and sell the rest to other males of the Race. They will make up your cost and more.”
Ssofeg turned both eyes full upon the apothecary, staring as if he were the Buddha reincarnated. “I could do that, couldn’t I? Then I could pass on to you what they convey to me, my own difficulties with inventory control would disappear, and you would gain the wherewithal to acquire still more of this marvelous herb which I desire more with each passing day. Truly you are a Big Ugly of genius, Yi Min!”
“The superior of mine is gracious to this humble inferior,” Yi Min said. He did not smile; Ssofeg was a clever little devil, and might notice and start asking questions better left unraised.
No, on second thought, Ssofeg was unlikely to notice anything. He was caught in the gloom that always seemed to seize him when ginger’s exhilaration wore off. Now he shook as if from an ague rather than with delight. He moaned, “But how can I in good conscience expose other males of the Race to this constant craving I feel myself? That would not be right.”
He stared hungrily at the spicepot full of ginger. Fear bubbled through Yi Min. Some opium addicts would kill to keep from being separated from their drug, and ginger seemed to hit Ssofeg far harder than opium did its human users. The apothecary said, “If you take this from me now, superior of mine, where will you get more when you have used it all?”
The little devil made a noise like a boiling kettle. “Plan for tomorrow, plan for next year, plan for the generations yet to come,” he said, sounding as if he were repeating a lesson learned long ago in school. He resumed, “You are right, of course. Thievery would in the long run prove futile. What then is your price for the pot of precious herb you hold here?”
Yi Min had an answer ready: “I want one of the picture-taking machines the Race has made, the ones that take pictures you can look at from all around. I want also a supply of whatever it is the machine takes the pictures on.” He remembered how-interesting-the pictures the devils had taken of Liu Han and him were. Many men in the camp would pay well to watch such pictures… while he could give the young men and girls who would perform in them next to nothing.
But Ssofeg said, “I myself cannot get you one of these machines. Give me the ginger now, and I will use it to find a male who has access to them and can abstract it so it will not be missed.”
Yi Min laughed scornfully. “You called me wise before. Do you all at once think me a fool?” Hard bargaining followed. In the end, the apothecary surrendered a quarter of the ginger to Ssofeg, the rest to remain with him until payment was forthcoming. The little scaly devil reverently enclosed the ground spice in a transparent envelope, put that envelope into one of the pouches he wore on the belt round his waist, and hurried out of Yi Min’s hut. The devils’ gait always struck Yi Min as skittery, but Ssofeg’s movements seemed downright furtive.
