A Mind For Trade Part 13

Chapter Thirteen.

"What's this?" the voice came over the open com-it was AH Kamil.

"Pirates attack?" Tooe asked, her voice shrill.

"No." Rip's voice was flat, an enforced calm. Dane felt a sympathetic twinge at the back of his neck-and without warning he sensed Jasper and Ali pounding up the ladders from deck to deck.

The momentary sensation of being in two places at once gave him a moment of vertigo-like snapout. Dane shut his eyes, breathing deeply.

"We would have seen it if they'd been fired on." Rip pointed at the screen.

"Unless it happened on the other side of the planet," Dane said.

Rip's dark eyes flicked his way, a distracted glance, then back to the screen. Dane noted fine beads of sweat along Rip's hairline, and knew with a sudden but intense conviction that Rip had felt that same moment of vertigo. Which probably meant that AH and Jasper had also felt it, only reversed- sensing the two of them seated in the galley. Unless Ali was full of his drug. But no, he hadn't had time to take any drugs, Dane realized. Ali and Tooe and Jasper had returned just ahead of them, and had been busy working ever since.

Further, the connection between the four wouldn't have been so clear. The drug, it seemed, muted the psi effects for Ali, and at the same time diffused it in a strange way for the others.

Dane braced for more of Kamil's temper.

Rip, meanwhile, was drumming his fingers on the console. He hit the buffed metal edge of the table with his flat hand, and said, "I'm going to ask Lossin about that."

And without further speech he hitched out of his chair and clambered up the ladder to the control deck.

Jasper walked in a few seconds after. "Ali went up to the com," he murmured, going to the jakek dispenser.

Craig Tau and Johan Stotz were just behind him.

Mura said, "Dead Dog Billiards."

Everyone looked over at him.

Tau gave a crack of laughter. "By the Holy Nose of Ghmal! I'd nearly forgotten."

"What's this?" Dane asked.

Both the older crew members swung around. Mura said with his faint smile, "Before your time. Before any of you, in fact." He pointed at Jasper, then waved upward toward the control deck, and Ali and Rip. "We were involved in a complicated five-way trade out in the Asteroid Belt around Viper III. Rough part of the starlanes, but you can get some good deals-Terran goods bring high prices. Anyway, we found ourselves boxed in by pirates. But Jellico had worked us deep into the gee well of a gas giant with dozens of moons. We cut power to everything but life support and pa.s.sive sensors, and used gravity-sling maneuvers to randomize our course."

"You've never seen Jellico play billiards," Tau put in. "We got clean away. And all four of those sc.u.mslinkers were armed like Patrol cutters."

Mura sat back, frowning slightly. "That was before colloid blasters." Then his expression lightened, and he shook his head with a slight grin. "Doesn't matter. Short of a report of an explosion, I'll just bet that Jellico is up to his old tricks."

"Cut power. but what that means is that we're cut off, then, too."

Rip's voice came over the com. "That's exactly what it means. We can't even use a tightbeam, even if we wanted to, since we've no way of aiming it."

"What's the word?" Tau asked, facing the com.

"Lossin reports that the North Star has changed orbit and gone dark. No evidence of fire or foul play."

"Dead Dog Billiards," Mura repeated with satisfaction. "He's using the EM pulses from the storms to cover his drunk-walk course changes."

"Except this means that for the duration, we're effectively cut off from communication," Rip's voice came. Dane heard the strain under his calm tone.

"That's all right," Tau said, smiling. "We're doing fine. We seem to be establis.h.i.+ng a working relations.h.i.+p with the Traders here. We have a job to do, and we know how to do it."

"What's more," Mura said, rising from his chair, "Jellico is letting us know as clear as if he was on the comlink himself that he thinks we're doing fine."

"I suggest we shut down, then, and everyone get some rest," Tau added. "Sun's coming up-we'll have a full night of work ahead, if the weather cooperates."

"Sooner we're done here, sooner we can leave," came Ali's wry voice. He pa.s.sed by the mess cabin and continued on his way down.

Jasper rose without speaking and walked out, his steps soundless as usual.

Dane got up to follow, noting Tooe's huge yellow eyes moving from one to the other of them, her crest quirked in question mode.

He wondered if she suspected there was something going on. Then he remembered that day aboard the North Star- she'd been there when Tau had called the four together for that conference. He'd also promised to debrief her when they were done, but Dane knew that because of Ali's reaction Tau had dropped the subject, except for his report to Jellico and Dr. Cofort on their decision, as far as the other crewmembers were concerned.

Which meant Tooe couldn't know. Or could she? Dane knew how inquisitive she was-yet she had never asked him about that private conference with the medic.

He shook his head tiredly. Well, he couldn't discuss it with her. That would break the promise they'd made with Ali. So he might as well put it out of his mind.

"Anything to report?" he asked her.

Her crest flicked upright into what he thought of as Tooe-pleased-with-herself mode. "I get foods I like," she said, happily. "And we Trade some seeds, some cuttings. Frank has new cuttings, new data. Kamsin, steward for Traders, get seeds, data. Parkku better, wants to help with ore, engineer with Ali. Bioengineer new ideas, Ali happy."

"So it was a good work, session," Dane said.

Tooe nodded vigorously. "Not so good, mining?"

"Difficult. Now I know why they don't have much ore stockpiled."

Dane went on to explain his trip out to the island. Tooe listened intently, her pupils expanding and contracting with disconcerting fluidity; Dane knew this was a more subtle reflection of her emotions. This was her Rigelian heritage.

At the end, he said, "Tomorrow-if the storms don't pen us up-we can't mine, we'll have to spend our time refining and loading. But maybe with more hands at work we can speed up the process."

"Stotz refining machines. Not needed?" Tooe asked.

"Oh, yes," Dane said. "They're not set up to refine all the way up to fuel-no reason to be, especially since it's somewhat more unstable that way."

Tooe said, "Tomorrow, I help with refine and store?"

"Yes," Dane said. He hesitated, then said, "Tazcin. You spoken much with her?"

"Some. No Terran, only Tath, and language of Parkku, Siere."

"Do you see any rank problems ahead?"

"Rank. Like Rip." Tooe's crest wriggled through a complicated pattern, a little like fingers waving.

"Yes. I'm trying to think ahead, study. Be ready for further trading." He paused between words, not sure how much to say-or if anything should be said.

Tooe merely looked inquiring.

Dane shrugged, gave up. "Let's. .h.i.t the rack."

Tooe bobbed her head and took off, swarming down the ladder. Dane grinned, and followed more slowly.

It was nearly two weeks later when Rip Shannon walked back to the Queen from the Trader camp.

He'd been away for what he thought of as forty-eight hours-though more correctly it had been thirty-nine, two days' local time-caught by a sudden, exceptionally vicious storm that had raged without cease for nearly the entire period.

He and Jasper had been visiting the Traders, monitoring the refining process, which required frequent tuning, as the composition of the ore eggs varied wildly. He hadn't intended to spend the night there-though as yet he was the only one who hadn't. He'd felt that duty required him to stay at least part of each day with the Queen, lest something occur that would require him to be on hand.

The others had slowly but surely begun mixing more freely back and forth. Particularly during the past six or seven days, any given sleep period one could find at least one Trader bunked down in the tiny pa.s.senger cabins, and at least one of the Queen's crew high in the Trader camp among the trees.

Rip was glad that he'd ended up staying there. He'd learned more just by watching and listening than he could have done reading a datafile, or even by asking questions. Too much occurred that one never thought to ask about.

For instance, he'd tried to compile a list of the Traders' official functions. As the days went by, it became increasingly clear that they changed their t.i.tles to fit their audiences.

"Are you the engineer?" Tooe had asked Kamsin, instructed by Stotz.

"Yes," Kamsin had said.

Tazcin had admitted to being comtech, and Lossin navigator-but then, not five days later, Stotz returned from a long, apparently satisfying work session building one more egg scooper-all they had parts for-and reported, quite casually, that Tazcin was one h.e.l.l of a biochemist.

"I thought she was the comtech," Rip had asked.

Johan shrugged-this was not his area, which meant he shut it out of his mind. "Schooled in biomech," he said. "Read translations of Dzay'yi of Riez's doctorate on quantum effects at the intracellular level in school, just as I did. But came at it from a different perspective."

He shook his head. "Still can't like it. not exactly. But she's modified a slime mold to lay down a biosuperconductor mesh inside our biohaz suits, to protect us against EM much the same way the Taths' fur does." Unconcerned with questions of job definition, Stotz had then disappeared down to his engine room to grab some needed tools.

The same thing happened when Ali got to talking to Parkku, who, now fully recovered, turned out to be able to communicate in Terran. She also claimed to be a trained comtech, at least to Kamil, and in truth, Ali said, her help in designing the EM ore-egg detectors he was working on had been invaluable.

Rip finally realized that the Traders were in fact trained to cover whatever job was needed. Some apparently preferred different kinds of work or had talents in specific jobs. But unlike Terrans, who were most comfortable when each had his or her professional niche and understood placement within the hierarchical status, the Traders were just the opposite.

Tazcin had been forced into position as final arbiter on the grounds of her age. The captain and the cook-steward had been the only fixed positions on board the Ariadne. Everyone else had served in rotations at each job.

While staying in the camp, Rip had learned that Parkku and the other Berran, Irrba, were life-mates. There were other kin connections: Tazcin was Kamsin's mother, and unfortunately, Vrothin had lost a kind of cousin to the pirates who had killed the Ariadne's crew.

Vrothin had been the most affected, but not the only one. Kins.h.i.+p was important to the Tath, and they were all connected in some way. Vrothin's cousin should have stayed, but had been lured to go with the Ariadne by the prospect of the bright lights and fun spots of Exchange-and since the s.h.i.+p needed an extra hand, the kin-group had been split this way.

Before sleeping the Tath performed a memorial ritual for the lost one. Rip, falling asleep on another platform, had listened to the deep voices rising and falling on droning notes that reminded him of some kind of ancient Terran wind instruments, their voices augmented by the eternal wind in the trees, and the steady plash of rain on the leaves. A strange experience, he thought as he bowed into the icy wind. So alien, and yet strangely familiar in unexpected ways. It called up an old memory, the sad voices singing at the memorial for his grandfather, killed in a freak accident when Rip was very small.

The Queen was just ahead, flaring in the occasional flares of lightning. The discharges seemed to be getting longer as the days pa.s.sed and the sunspot cycle neared its peak; during storms the thunder was often continuous for hours, varying only in pitch and loudness, like the drums of a senseless symphony. Rip keyed his helmet com, and the lock slid open. Rip fought his way up the ramp, leaning against the wall in relief when the wind and weather were closed off. His ears popped as he yawned rackingly. Tau said the fatigue might be from the pulses of energy pouring through them from the rocks below, flexed by the tides and the deep-plunging roots of the trees.

Jasper Weeks appeared in the hatchway above.

"Anything to report?" Jasper asked, pulling off his gloves and working his cold hands.

"No corns," Jasper said. "Dr. Siere is in the lab with Craig. Tooe didn't come back with you?"

"She stayed behind. Playing some kind of computer game with Kamsin. He's apparently just about her age, and they are both addicted to hologames."

Jasper smiled. Rip noted the carving knife in Jasper's hand, and was glad. Craig had reminded them of the importance of remembering rec time as well as sleep and eating. Apparently the hardworking Jasper had taken some time out to work on his carvings.

"I'm for food, a mindless action-packed tri-D vid, and sleep, in that order," he said to Jasper as they climbed up to the galley deck. "Anything else?"

"There's apparently a lull coming in this storm series. Not much of one-but enough for them to try another mining run. This time we're going to really load up the sh.e.l.lboat-the comsats show it will be calm enough to up the payload almost fifty percent. And we'll transport additional crew in the flitters-with the extra egg scoopers we should be able to really clean up!"

Rip felt his good mood slipping away. "Think it'll work?"

Jasper grimaced slightly. "Slow coming back, and the bigger the load, the more unstable. If something blows up, we might have to jettison it. But they feel the pressure as much as we do. We don't have enough ore yet. We have to get more before these storms become constant."

"Will they?" Rip asked.

"Simulations all say so, but how long that'll take is anyone's guess." Jasper shrugged. "Just chance, really."

Rip nodded. "Who's going on this expedition?"

"Biggest crew we can take. Gleef sent over the report on the weather, and we just set it up, while you were on your way back from the camp. From our people, Dane, Ali, Stotz, my-self. That's all the modified haz suits we've got. Both medics will come, but stay on the boat and the flitter. Tooe will watch com from the camp, and Frank here-unless you want to take that on, in which case Frank can lend a hand at the camp. From their side, all the Tath-they're the strongest-and Shoshu. The Berrans and Gleef are going to keep the refiners going. And Frank, if you take the com here."

"Nothing easier," Rip said, thinking of Shoshu, the thickset oldster from the desert world Aelsaven. He reminded Rip strongly of Karl Kosti, the big bear of a jet man now up circling round the planet with the North Star.

Gleef was a tall, weedy hybrid from the old Terran colonies of Stanislaus World. His skin was even darker than Rip's, his people bred for a much harsher sun than Sol, and apparently he had grown up in a place where there were harsh seasons. The EMP appeared to affect him not at all. He was even quieter than Jasper, but a fine musician on the complicated instrument peculiar to his world. When played right, it sounded like a choir of wind instruments.

Rip, satisfied with the plans, climbed up to follow through on his stated plans. He was confident that they would have some success at last.

Chapter Fourteen.

Aboard the North Star, Rael Cofort drew a deep breath, then immediately felt guilty. She watched her breath cloud, the vapor blowing into the leaves of an air-rooted tomato plant. At least here, in hydroponics, her carbon dioxide recycled quickly, as plants converted it back into oxygen. The problem was, it took too long everywhere else in the s.h.i.+p. The emergency fans weren't efficient enough-the Traders of the Ariadne had evidently been adapted to higher levels of CO2.

They'd also been adapted to lower temperatures; at this distance from the sun, with the engines down, the North Star was getting steadily colder. Kosti had rigged some DC heating elements, but they could use them only at the high points of their caroming orbit.

So she and the rest of the North Star's crew pretty much lived in the hydro lab now, venturing out only for work forays, until the CO2 buildup and searing cold in the cabins forced them back to the hydro again.

She adjusted her datapad on her lap, feeling the twinge of headache fading as she moved. It always did, here in the jungle at the center of the s.h.i.+p. Elsewhere, as carbon dioxide levels built up, so did their headaches, along with lethargy and rapid breathing. She'd warned the others of what to expect when they first cut power, and though n.o.body complained, she knew the others surely suffered as much from the symptoms as she did.

It helped to have work at hand. She was combing through their planetary survey data with Jellico's and Ya's help. Her datapad was linked to the s.h.i.+p's computers via low-energy infrared transmission; very low power operation of computers, like hydroponics buried deep within the s.h.i.+p for safety's sake, was undetectable. Her medical education had led her to question the effect of the extreme EM levels of Hesprid IV on the Solar Queen's crew, which in turn had led her to build a model of the storm systems.