Independent Trader
| 23 February 2011
Arda put on her jacket and fussed at the mirror. Her shirt was a good color, white, always good- she leaned forward- it looked clean. Leaning back she checked the hang of the pants. Arda did not like jumpsuits that were common on ships, she found the shirt and pants moved much better together and the jacket made it that much more, nice and formal.
She had a place in town, but having most of her things in the ship she felt more comfortable dressing here. "What do you think, do I look professional enough?" Arda asked to the room.
"You look like you are dressed appropriately." A voice replied.
Scowling, Arda turned and addressed the wall. "No, I mean do I look good? You know, someone to do business with, someone to trust, and you know, attractive."
"Uh…, you mean do you look like an officer?"
Arda shook her head, smart computer but not too bright.
"Well, I hope this works out. I am tired of being cooped up. I want a world to walk on, WEATHER, what I wouldn't give for that and people to talk to in more than just a business way." Arda stopped and her eyes went unfocused.
"But Arda, you have done so well. Last year alone…"
"Yes, yes, it has been a good run and I do so enjoy setting my own path, but sometimes you just need" She gestured with her hands.
"You just need, what?" the computer asked.
"Never mind, you have a much different life." Indeed, the computer could reach out and interact with many computers and never had to feel alone anywhere they were.
******
Jonathon Tate placed the pencils in his pencil caddy, carefully checking to make sure only pencils were in this one and that the pencils functioned. He carefully held one in his hand and checked the length of the eraser. Feeling a bit of regret he slowly put that one in the trash looked at the others and threw out two more. Then Jonathon added some from the box of new pencils he had in the drawer. Satisfied he glanced at the pen caddy and performed some more housecleaning. The love of his desk mimicked the love of his job: follow the formula and everything was easy.
"Mr. Tate?" The intercom broke the silence and Jonathon looked at it for a moment, and then looked at his watch. It was late. He inhaled deeply, then reached across slowly and pressed the button.
“Yes, Jenkins?”
“An applicant for trade privileges to see you Sir.”
Jonathon Tate let out a sigh, so much for an early out. “What’s the name and country?”
“Arda and she is a sole Trader.”
Shaking his head Jonathon asked, “Her whole name?”
“That’s all she’ll give me. She says that’s all she has.”
This wasn’t going to be an early day at all. ”Send her in.”
When Arda walked in the room, sure enough she looked odd. She was dressed Okay but the pants seemed a bit out of date, very wide. It wasn’t ugly, as those things go, but definitely different. She hadn’t taken much care with her face. While clean, there was no makeup, her hair was impossibly short, like a crew cut. Not professionally cut, more like whacked off in a fit of irritation.
Jonathon rose and offered his hand. “Welcome, Miss Arda? He gestured at a chair.
“Just Arda, it’s my only name, short as it is.” She sat down in the offered chair.
With his best smile, he proceeded,” Well, what can I do for you?”
“I would like to get a permit to trade in your fair world.” She said this with much confidence and sat back in the chair ramrod straight, her hands folded in her lap.
Mr. Tate smiled. “Well, there are a number of steps you must go through. First of all, what country …?
Arda interrupted, “I have the formal letter, step one I presume, here.” She rose from the chair and handed him a paper.
Jonathon started to speak, but quickly got lost in the document she had just handed him. It certainly looked familiar, at least in form. He started reading and stopped. “Miss Arda…”
“Arda please, that’s my name.”
“Arda, you need a country and a proper name, first and last.” Puzzled he looked down at the form, again.
“As I told your secretary, Mr.Jenkins” Jonathon nodded. “Where I come from we only have one name.”
“And where is that?”
“That is tricky to say. You see I have no country; I own a city-state in the Caribbean Sea of the Atlantic Ocean. I am a free trader. I believe the wording for your charter goes, quote,
‘1. Any State or separate customs territory possessing full autonomy in the conduct of its external commercial relations and of the other matters provided for in this Agreement and the Multilateral Trade Agreements may accede to this Agreement, on terms to be agreed between it and the W.T.O. Such accession shall apply to this Agreement and the Multilateral Trade Agreements annexed thereto.’
"I believe I meet the criteria of a ‘Customs Territory’. I have written the letter in the proper form ‘Letter of application to accede':
'I have the honour to inform you of the wish of [applicant A] to accede to the Agreement Establishing the World Trade Organization and to the Multilateral Trade Agreements annexed thereto, in accordance with Article XII of the said Agreement.’
"I have read the agreements and rules and I would like to start the process of membership,’”
“Yes, Miss Arda…”
“Arda, please.”
“Yes, I see you have filled out the letter properly, and prepared for this meeting, but the process is quite complicated and many procedures have to be followed.”
Jonathon looked across his desk at the woman. She was odd, though very formal. He studied her, looking for flaws. Despite her hair she seemed to follow a strict protocol and she was so earnest, so expectant.
“Yes, about that, I am an individual trading entity. Usually, in cases like this a modified membership is granted where agreements on taxes for the goods I purchase are laid out with each country. I have included my code, and I am sure you can see it is logically and simply laid out.”
“I’m sorry, you have done this before?”
“Well, yes, I am a successful trader." Arda remained unmoving in her chair, smiling a bit.
“So you already have a membership?” Jonathon scratched his head- a headache was coming.
“Yes, but not with you?” Arda smiled but again added no more personal information.
“Then with who?”
“That is private information, of course.” she replied.
“No, Ma’am, that is quite relevant.”
“No, sir. That can be kept private as long as I do not trade with your members in any other organization.”
Well, that was true. There was a knock, the office door opened and the secretary walked in, carrying a stack of papers. Mr. Tate took the stack and as Jenkins pointed, he signed. Making sure each document was in order and pointed out some errors as he went. Jenkins nodded, obviously used to this procedure, not taking offense and taking note of each reference or correcting on the spot.
“I think you will find the documents I have are all in order and it would be good to just finish.” Arda said.
The woman brought him back around. Jonathon started to protest, but the other documents she presented to him looked quite in order. There were documents from all countries-he looked again, yep all countries, stating Arda was not a citizen. Then there was a declaration of Sovereignty. Another listed her company in detail including all the rules and regulations her company operated in, so…He realized she had fulfilled all the written rules. Wow, they had more ethics rules than he had ever seen. He suspected this was a scam but couldn't figure out what kind. Putting that aside for the moment, Jonathon tried another tack.
"And what it is you trade in, Miss Arda?”
“Arda, please.” A pause. “I am a trader in Kevas and Trillium.”
A slight sound that came from the secretary filled the silence. Jonathon Tate looked at him and then back at Arda, with no sign of recognition.
Looking at both of the men and seeing that the reference was lost at least on Mr. Tate, she went on. “Oh, pottery, jewelry Mmm…what you call Ethnic Goods. You know the authentic stuff.” She smiled.
“Very well, M..uh Arda, I will submit this letter,” Looking down at the other papers, and the rest of your documents. "Leave your contact information with my secretary here and I will call you as soon as I know anything. You realize, of course, how unusual this is." Jonathon looked over his glasses in a fatherly way.
“Oh, no, this is not that unusual for me” she flipped her hand. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you.” With that she got up and left his office.
Passing by the desk, she looked at Jenkins who was now smiling at her. On impulse she leaned closer to him.
“Wanna go trip the light fantastic?” She smiled at him.
“Uh…” The secretary missed the reference.
Arda made a note to look up the date on that idiom, probably the wrong era. She quickly supplied her cell number, and hotel’s address, waved and left. Thankfully this place was well developed enough to get some local communication equipment on a temporary basis.
Back in the office, Jonathon didn’t know what to make of this whole thing and wrote a quick email to his supervisor. He reviewed the papers one more time. Arda was an independent person, having the proper qualifications of a ‘customs territory’. He had heard of people declaring sovereignty, but this was quite clever. She had no other citizenship, but her own, ever. She also had all the proper paper work for being a ‘customs territory’ or at least it wasn’t excluded. It was clever. Though, he doubted it would go too far, probably just to his supervisor’s desk and then back to his, Jonathon admired the special attention to detail. Oh well, not tonight. He finished the email, sent it off. Dropped the papers and copy of the email off at Jenkins desk and headed out the door.
***
Two days later a memo came down accompanying the packet of Arda's paperwork. The members had decided to reject her petition. Sighing, Jonathon looked through and found the reason- it was unconventional. UNCONVENTIONAL? He looked through all of them again. Yes, this was not usual, but there had to be a reason. There was always a reason!! But there was none.
Shaking his head, Jonathon thought, This will not due. And he called his secretary to book him an appointment with upstairs. There had to be a reason. Miss Arda, Arda had worked hard on this, she had followed the rules. Now they had to follow rules.
Knowing exactly what he was fighting for, Jonathon Tate strode up to Ms. Michael's office. The secretary told him to go in, and he flowed in through the door. He was dammed certain a person who followed protocol and wished nothing more than to trade would not get a fair hearing.
"Jonathon is there something I can help you with?" Ms. Michaels didn't look up from the stack of papers on her desk.
He stood in front of her, feeling a bit vulnerable. "Yes, on the matter of Arda (smiling that he remembered). May I inquire the reason for her denial?"
This got her attention. "Why, it is too out of the ordinary. We can't have individuals running around with the power of countries." She shook her head. "An interesting concept, yes, but we just can't allow it."
"Well, I think we have to allow it." Ms. Michaels started to speak and Jonathon held up his hand. "Precisely because she did follow the rules, all the rules. I've gone over it, and over it, it is flawless."
She put down a paper and focused on Jonathon, studying his face. "Well."
"And if we don't honor it, what are the ramifications? What do we stand for? I have worked here for twenty years and I am proud of how this institution runs. We run on established rules. The members have their say, but only after the protocol has been followed and then only to dictate terms with each respecting trader. We cannot fall back on individual whim." He stood up straight, ramrod straight.
"This is important to you?"
"Yes, and it should be important to you!" Speaking maybe a little too boldly, this was highly unusual for Mr. Tate.
"Ok, ok," she held up her hand. "I hear what you are saying and yes our rules are important." Pausing she was silent, thinking. "I will look into this. I promise you Jonathon, this will be done appropriately. You are right, our reputation is important."
Satisfied, Jonathon left her office a bit dizzy, for the first time in his life he had stood up for something that was important to him, and he had won.
*****
In the following weeks Jonathon thought often about ….Arda and her trading company. He loved his job, but also admired individuals who worked within the system. He could see no harm in what she was attempting and he began to wish she would succeed.
On the fourth week, to the day, Jonathon was sitting at his desk when Jenkins buzzed him again.
“Yes” Not even looking up.
“Mr. Tate, Ms. Michaels requests you come to her office.”
Jonathon jumped. “Certainly, tell her I am on my way.” It never bode well to keep brass waiting around here, especially his own supervisor. He almost ran out of his office and up the elevator.
Ms. Michaels sat behind an enormous oak desk. Behind her and wrapping around the room was a magnificent window with a view of the Geneva skyline. Wow, every time he saw it he tried not to gasp.
She looked up,” Oh, Jonathon, please sit down.” Gesturing at an informal sitting area off to the side, she got up from her chair and joined him. “So, how are you doing?”
“Very well, thank you.” He looked at her calendar. It was on yesterday. Maybe if I just…he stopped himself before she noticed, pretending to be looking around the office. It was nice.
"And your family, how are the children doing, Max and Robert, right?”
“Yes, they are quite well.” Jonathon smiled, asking after his children always made him feel good. Even though he had been divorced for five years, he took his responsibilities very seriously and great pride in his children. Beyond his job, they were his life.
“Well” she started in, “this whole application of ‘Ms. Arda’ that is something.”
Jonathon came to attention. “Yes, I thought so; it was an unusual request, though very well documented.”
“Yes, well, it did go through. She certainly knows the law.”
Jonathon was stunned and just stared at his supervisor.
“However, I must caution you, this is a delicate manner. We don’t want to discuss it outside these walls. The members don’t want anyone else trying the same thing. “
Jonathon allowed a little smile to play on his lips. "Yes, ma'am, I can see how that would be awkward."
Noticing his change in demeanor, Ms. Michaels scowled a bit. “We are trying to change the requirements, but I am afraid the way she set it up, we really can’t. An individual can declare sovereignty and the rest follows, especially if no other citizenship is involved afterward. Her address is in international waters, for goodness sake, on some sort of city-state. The prevailing opinion is that she will not cause much of a mess and between her rules and our rules the taxes are easily figured and paid, at quite a profit for the involved countries. She is using precious metals, you know, to pay and the members like that.”
“Yes, I recall that, some of them are quite rare, I guess they would like it.”
“Hmm…yes, well that’s it, please finish the paperwork and inform Miss Arda.” Jonathon almost corrected her, but he stopped himself, in time to shake Ms. Michaels hand, the meeting was over.
Heading back to the office, Jonathon was almost skipping. Yes, it was a good thing to shake up the system. Hell, to shake me up. She was a good thing. He stopped at the thought. She was a good thing, for him.
Back in his office he paused by the desk of his secretary. He struggled, trying to think of Arda's mysterious comment. He snapped his fingers. Jenkins looked at him quizzically.
“Can I help you Mr. Tate?”
“Yes, yes you can. Remember that joke that Arda told; something about Kevlon and triton?
Jenkins smiled, “Oh, Kevas and Trilium”
“Yes, that’s it. What did that mean?”
“It’s a reference to an episode of the original Star Trek television series. The Captain and the Science Officer had to hide amongst the natives when the arch enemies take over a planet they are on. The Captain looks like a native, but the Science Officer, well he’s definitely not like them, he’s an alien with pointed ears.”
Jonathon laughed.
“Well, they tell him to be a small, independent trader of those two fictitious things. Some say they are precious metals, other sources claim they are precious stones.”
Jonathon caught a memory. “I remember that show, American wasn’t it?”
“Yes, a very popular show, the fans have revived it in conventions and movies, lots of movies.” Jenkins seemed proud to have known all the details. Jonathon thanked him for the info and went into his private office to think.
How could he come back to the woman with an equally witty retort? He had already blown it by not knowing the reference; he had to dazzle her now. Thinking hard he sat unfocused until the end of the day. Many days, and he still was without an idea. Then he decided to look through his bookshelves and found his one scifi book, a treasured old companion.
***
Arda was informed the application had been accepted and she was to “accede”. Whistling, she strode up to Mr. Tate’s office. The secretary escorted her in and Mr. Tate came around to greet her, his hand extended. Arda shook it strongly.
“So nice to see you, how are you? Jonathon was smiling broadly.
Arda, surprised at such warmth replied. “Oh fine, fine. Glad to hear about my application. Thank you.”
“Oh, it wasn’t me. Your application was well thought out, meticulous. They had no choice, no choice. Please have a seat, would you like some coffee, a cookie perhaps?”
He was so attentive. “I, oh all right?” Arda sat down and accepted his offered cup.
As they settled down, Jonathon fiddled, not quite putting the cup to his mouth.
“So, Mr. Tate…”
“Jonathon, please, after all that has happened I feel that is more appropriate. I have never had an application like yours. It is quite refreshing. It seems the higher ups are a bit stunned. That is good, good for us here and good for them, keeps us on our toes. I would never have thought I would have approved of such a thing, so unconventional, but it’s kind of a win for the little people. You know, instead of the massive bureaucracy of a country. This has always been a private club, at least it was before.”
“Well, I don’t know, Jonny, if I would go that far. I’ve always done things my own way; try to stay out of the big cat’s business. Trading can be fun, though.”
Jonathon looked at her, puzzled-Jonny?- and then warming to the endearment. Taking a breath he spoke. “You know, I used to sell spice, but the Harkonnens shut me down.” He looked over his cup at her, hoping for at least an acknowledgement.
Arda looked back at him. “Why Jonny, I knew you were a closet space trader." Laughing, she blurted out before she thought. “How about you and I trip the light fantastic?”
He stopped, he knew the reference, something his grandfather used to say, and then he realized she had asked him out. He looked at Arda, not quite believing his good fortune. "I'd be delighted.”
Arda walked out of the W.T.O. with a card in hand, smiling, and another notch in her belt. She had found another unknown world full of goods, a good trading port. Soon she would be headed back to the galactic center in her little red cruiser filled to capacity, hopefully making the holiday season. But for now she needed to get ready for her date that was even more important than a new contract. What a funny place, this Earth, just the kind of place she liked!
The End
