A Mind For Trade Part 11
For instance, she thought she understood why Dane had' been preoccupied just now. She had talked to him more than any of the others, and she knew when he was not telling her everything he knew. Mostly that was memories. He didn't like to talk about his past. She accepted that. But he'd betrayed the same little signs of regret-hesitant voice, not meeting her eyes-when she had asked him about his pretending not to understand Rigelian. She'd also seen how Rip was suddenly alert, and very still, when Dane talked.
Tooe wondered if there had been some kind of contact with Rip caused by the psi link, and the two didn't want to talk about it. It seemed probable-the result of Ali's angry denial of the subject.
Tooe knew about that, and about the drugs he was taking in order to mute the possible development of the link. She suspected the drugs would not help. They might even cause a problem-something Tau had discussed as a possibility. Terrans knew very little about psi links.
Tooe knew more, but only by accident. There were two among her klinti on Harmonious Exchange who had psi talents. For some people that was a fact of life. It had, like anything else, its good and its bad aspects.
But Terrans were funny about it. She knew now why Dane got that tone of deepest regret when he mentioned his adventures on Trewsworld, especially if he referred to the brachs who had become sentient through prolonged exposure to es-perite. He felt bad about these little beings, so alone now; their brains had changed, forever. They were no longer brachs, nor were they human. Tooe suspected he saw himself, and the other three, in the same way. Dane was afraid that developing the psi link would make him less of a human.
What is human? she thought. And the answer: / don't know.
So she kept her thoughts to herself.
". open communication, then, with Jellico," Rip was saying.
"Bearing in mind that the pirates are probably listening as well," Stotz said.
Rip nodded. "They know the Queen is here, so they're probably deployed in orbits that preclude communication silence. At any given time at least one of them will be in com range."
"Steen will know all that," Ali said, still impatient. "Leave it to him. And the Old Man. They've dealt with pirates before. We need to get at this job if we're ever going to lift off this summer paradise."
Mura laughed. "Summer paradise indeed." He disappeared in the direction of the hydro-lab deck.
The others agreed quickly on going ahead with the mining. Tooe listened carefully, relieved that no one questioned the deals she had made. Whether they thought she had done well or not, they had accepted her palm-touch with Lossin as a formal contract. The first trade had already been completed, when Siere, the medic, brought the data chip and then departed with the medicine he needed for Parkku.
The second item was the flitter in the cargo bay. That was for the use of the Queen's crew.
After everyone had spoken Rip Shannon got up to contact Lossin, and through him Tazcin-thus initiating all the other trades that they had discussed.
Tooe felt proud, and relieved, and frightened, at having everyone acting on her word. Had she done well? The Tath had understood her, but that was not surprising. She had pretended she was talking to her old friend Kithin. It had worked fine. But being a good Trader, when she wasn't always sure about the exact worth of the items they discussed, that part bothered her.
She waited until Dane was alone.
"Come on cargo-apprentice," he said with a smile. "Let's get all our data entered into the log."
"Is good?" she asked, rising from her chair and following him out the hatchway. As always, she felt the hard deckplates pressing up on her feet. This time, at least, she didn't feel the cold, because she still had on the shoes. They were good for that, she decided. But they confined so!
"The items you promised from our stores are fine. The work ratiothe medicine-the items that intersect with others' departments, we'll find out about. I don't think anyone is outraged. They know you had to think fast. I'll submit a report to Jan Van Ryke when we can, but I suspect he's going to be more pleased than not."
Tooe's relief was so strong it felt, just for a moment, that the gravs had lifted.
"Thank!"
Dane was barely aware of the noise. It worked its way into his dream. A strange dream. The horizon was oddly short. People were so polite, so soft-spoken they reminded Dane of robots. Not in a bad sense. Different from Terra.
"Klank!"
A bad flitter? Dane realized he was with Jasper. No, he was Jasper. He was Jasper, and he was worried about the flitter. Was the engine disabled?
"Plink! Clatter-clatter."
Dane opened his eyes, gazing uncomprehendingly at the close confines of the cabin he had slept in for years. Recognition returned suddenly, inner and outer. He was Dane Thor-son, not Jasper Weeks, and he was in his cabin aboard the Queen, and not in Mzinga City, Venus Colony Five.
"Pok!"
He recognized the sound then, and laughed. He didn't have to go into the empty cargo bay to identify it. He could just picture Tooe in there, tossing cogs and bolts and whatever detritus she could lay her hands on, watching trajectory and ricochet as if they were magic. And to someone who was used to the straight lines of micrograv, they were magic.
Would she ever get tired of it?
He shook his head, still grinning, as he grabbed his clothes out of the cleaner and headed for the san-unit for a fast shower.
When he started up the ladder to the galley, he felt the unmistakable thrum and joggle of the ship around him that meant they were under the full battery of another storm.
He found Stotz and Weeks already there. Jasper ate steadily, his gaze on his plate. Did he know about Dane's dream? Probably. Dane winced inwardly, half-sorry and half-glad that they weren't to talk about it. Even though he could hardly be blamed-and he knew Jasper would not blame him-he still felt as if he'd made a personal trespa.s.s against the very private jet tech.
"Storm's lessening," Johan said, waving his fork toward the vidscreen. "Sunset in half an hour. We might make it yet."
Dane felt a surge of antic.i.p.ation. Action, that was what he needed; what they all needed. The need to fight the elements in order to get the cielanite would help get their minds off this psi stuff, even if only because they were too tired to think.
Rip appeared in the mess cabin just before the exterior viewport showed the sun setting.
"Been talking with Tazcin," Rip said. "Hammering out details of our Trading."
"We still on for the tour of the mining site?"
Rip nodded. "You and Johan-tonight, 00:30 local time. There's a lot of atmospheric instability, and we could get squalls or worse, but it looks like a good time for it. Lossin and Siere will go with you. They have a rule that a medic needs to be on hand for the trips."
"That dangerous?" Johan looked up, his straight brows slightly furrowed. Nothing ever seemed to upset the engineer.
"Parkku better?" Tooe appeared in the hatchway.
Rip gave her a nod. "Fast recovery, now that she's on meds again," he said to Tooe, then he turned back to Stotz. "That's what they say. Craig volunteered to take his turns going out."
"Good." That was Ali.
Rip gave him a brief smile. "You and Jasper aren't going to the mining site-at least, not until you get what they've already pulled out refined and stashed aboard here."
"How much might that be?"
"Not nearly as much as we'd hoped, for a number of reasons, mostly tidal scouring, since the mining-slugs need a littoral environment for most efficient ore extraction."
Ali stroked his jaw. "Speaking just from the esthetic view-thinking of their cable-weaving treesnails and so on- what does their mysterious miningtech look like?"
The crew looked at Stotz, who smiled and shook his head. "That will be my surprise," he said. "But they can't be worse than the haggis-which was the inspiration for the ore-bots machines I put together."
Rip gave a sudden laugh. "Dane's duel! I'd forgotten that."
"Not me," Dane said, sensing everyone's relief-however momentary-at the ridiculous memory of his so-called duel with the mighty Shver. "My ribs still ache from my attempt to play Wilc.o.x's bagpipe in one-point-six gees."
"Johan surprise?" Tooe put in, her crest flicking through a series of reactions. "I think, Johan smell something bad, in Trader camp."
Ali snorted a laugh. "She's right, Stotz," he drawled. "After talking to Taczin, you looked like you'd found a phlegm-spider in your salad."
"Well, we'll have to let Johan have his surprise," said Rip. He turned to the engineer, who just shrugged, smiling a little.
"Whatever you have put together, it's not going to be easy. The timing is really tight. With the Floaters lurking around during daylight hours we can only mine at night, and only on nights with two low tides. That happens only every six days or so, and the increase in sunspot activity has really revved up storm activity, which further limits them. With all the delays, much of the ore has been carried away by the sea by the time they can go collect it."
"And they had to stop going out when they ran out of meds and Parkku needed constant care."
Ali whistled.
Rip said, "They did the best they could, but they hadn't known what to plan for until they surveyed the site, any more than we had. As we'd guessed, their ship was to return with a better refining kit-along with all the other things they needed, including new supplies."
"They low on food?" Mura asked.
"No. Corliss, their steward, had insisted on leaving double what they thought they'd need. She was apparently an old hand, and had convinced them that she'd seen her theory proved out too many times to stint now. They're fine on shelter-thanks to the trees, and their own metabolisms-and food, but except for the flitters, they're low on everything else."
Dane quickly finished eating and jammed his plate and utensils into the recycler. "I'm going to get my winter gear. Sooner I'm there, the more we can look around."
"Just what I was thinking," Johan Stotz said, and handed himself down the ladder with his old quick, unthinking speed.
Of all the Terrans he'd probably recovered from the grav the fastest. Dane wondered if it was all those years he spent during his youth, playing null-grav sports. He adjusted between gravs with little apparent discomfort.
Dane followed a little more slowly, remembering to duck his head. Once again he was too tall for his surroundings.
A few hours later they were in the flitter, fighting their way through fierce winds as they headed for the meet point. Stotz was at the controls, a frown of concentration on his long face; the flitter bucked and wallowed, the engine screaming, as he fought to keep it level.
At the meet point, a short distance from the Traders' camp, they saw a tall, bulky figure and a short, thin one waiting in the lee of an outcrop of volcanic rock.
They'd agreed to take the flitter now a.s.signed to the Queen's Traders, as they had more fuel. Stotz brought the flitter to a stop, and the engine whined as the craft settled gently to the ground despite the wind doing its best to flip it end over end.
Lossin climbed in, his weight making the flitter jerk and sidle. He wore a shrouding jacket of Trader brown, but the scent of wet dog filled the small s.p.a.ce inside the flitter. Dane hid a grin. Siere swarmed in, his movements quick and fluid, hardly disturbing the balance of the flitter at all.
"I will take controls?" Lossin offered, pointing. "I know this battle." The deep voice held a distinct note of irony.
Stotz slid over into the next pod, indicating with a lift of his chin that the Trader should pilot.
Lossin dropped his bulk into the command pod, closed the hatches, shutting the wind out. The engines keened up the scale, and then, with a swooping rise that reminded Dane of a raptor in flighty the flitter lifted and veered.
Now the wind was no longer an enemy. Instead, it pushed them; Lossin jetted them in a long circle, dropping them over some thousand-meter cliffs before he brought them around to their destination. Cut off from the wind, they proceeded in relative peace; Dane looked out at the fantastic rock formations, lit by the powerful lamps of the flitter. The cliffs were striated with a rich variety of colors, silent testimony to the violent tectonic history of this planet.
Large, webby-looking seabirds circled and floated on this lee side of the island. Huge, veined breakers loomed with deliberate, slow power and smashed against the rocks, and the birds dived down toward the foaming waters as they receded out to the choppy black sea. As another breaker formed the birds darted here and there among the brilliant variety of pebbles washing down the steep sh.o.r.eline, and then zoomed upward just before the next wave came smashing in like a vast hand.
Lossin sped along the cliff walls; the birds darted out of the way, their beaks open, their eyes reflecting angry crimson in the lamplight. Dane wondered what their voices sounded like, but of course all he could hear was the hiss of the air circulator, and the steady spin of the engines.
Stotz, Dane noted, scarcely afforded the outside view a glance. His attention stayed entirely with the constant readouts above the controls.
They rounded a promontory, and quite suddenly they felt a gust of wind, and Lossin's big hands worked swiftly on the controls, stabilizing the flitter. They were in a small bay; as the flitter dived toward the choppy water, the wind subsided again as they came into the lee of the natural breakwater that sheltered the cove.
The flitter dived into what looked like a cave, so dark that the high-intensity lamps on the flitter did not penetrate far. The flitter slowed, the engine whining up the scale as the jets cut out and the ducted fans' beams took over, balancing them on columns of air. They moved over mossy rock and settled on a blast-smoothed platform next to a huge craft bobbing next to a dock. One glance at it and Stotz's serious face lifted; he leaned forward slightly in his pod, as if he couldn't wait another second to get at this unusual-looking piece of equipment.
For, as Dane had learned to expect by now, it didn't look like anything a Terran would design. In fact, it resembled nothing so much as a huge, almost-teardrop-shaped gourd covered with a scintillating layer of pearlescent overlapping scales. A large elliptical viewport gave the appearance of an eye on the side Dane could see, and a faint bluish luminescence glowed from it, hinting at a shadowy interior punctuated by the more familiar twinkle of status lights.
"Another gastropod, right?" asked Stotz.
"Yes," Lossin said. "Tath grow cargo reentry pods from the same seed-plasm; very strong crystalline structure."
That was enough for Johan. As Lossin set the flitter down, and they climbed out, Stotz fired technical questions at him. He was fascinated by the problems of interfacing machine tech with biotech.
Dane half listened, his attention absorbed in the surroundings. The sh.e.l.lboat was anch.o.r.ed to the cave walls by more of what Dane thought of as living catch-tab, which enabled it to lift and fall with the tide. Above he saw a thick mat of something else, where apparently the sh.e.l.lboat snuggled when the sea filled the cave. It was obvious that it spent parts of each day underwater; scattered small barnacles and other undersea creatures were affixed to it from top to bottom.
Lossin showed them how to activate the egress controls from inside the flitter, then he put that vehicle in park mode, and they all climbed out. Bitterly cold, briny air smote Dane. He followed the silent medic into the bigger craft.
There the Tath picked up a hoselike tube with cilia around its opening and briefly groomed most of the water- and wind-borne debris out of its fur. Then, as he led them to the control center, past machinery that looked half-familiar and half-organic, Dane watched Stotz look around intently and fire even more questions at Lossin.
Finally, the engineer asked: "You seem to have so much control of the growth process; why not grow some or all of the circuitry using similar methods?"
"Silicon systems faster and more precise than organic," rumbled Lossin. "Unless you make organic intelligence, which we do not do."
Stotz looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but something in the big Tath's tone seemed to deter him.
Lossin brought the sh.e.l.lboat's systems up and soon they were hydroplaning out over the water at high speed, flatten-ing the water below them in a wake which stretched out behind.
"This flight will take almost a Standard Terran Hour," Lossin said as he lit the control panel. The engine came to life, and the life support. Last thing, Lossin fired up the weather scope.
Stotz, seeing this, frowned slightly, and then his face smoothed out. Dane scanned the screen, wondering what had caught the engineer's attention. There appeared to be nothing amiss-this was just a standard weather scope, tracking storm patterns around the- Around the planet.
Which meant that their ship had seeded the atmosphere with comsats before landing these Traders on the surface. Their ship. now in orbit under the command of Captain Jellico.
Which meant that the Queen's Traders could have been in contact with the other ship at any time.
And these Traders had not told them.
Chapter Twelve.
"Dane is reporting," AH said. "Sounds like a nice, tidy little craft-though I wonder why he thinks it necessary to natter on about everything on it. Does he think we're buying one?"
Rip didn't answer the question. He could feel Ali's sour mood as if it was his own. In fact, it was rapidly becoming his, the navigator thought wryly.
Rip was going to be glad when the Traders finally arrived with their flitter; he didn't know what was taking them so long. Jasper and Ali had their scanning equipment stowed in the outer lock, awaiting the Traders' arrival so they could depart for the ore site.
Rip had been busy with the logfiles, so Ali offered to watch the com. Rip had accepted, if only to give the restless engineer something to do-and he'd been regretting it ever since.