Andre Norton - Derelict For Trade

"Dane Thorsen, here Nunku," Tooe said.

A pair of wide china-blue eyes regarded Dane gravely from under a tangle of lank light-brown hair. "We thank thee for thy help," she said softly.

Tooe and Momo then launched into a stream of talk, mixing together words from six or more languages. Mostly they spoke Kanddoyd, but here and there were Terran words. At the end, there was even one Shver: "Golm."

Dane looked up sharply, and the others reacted with startled glances.

Dane felt his neck and ears burning. "Sorry," he said.

Nunku shook her head slightly. "Clan Golm," she murmured. "Thou knowest of them?"

Dane shrugged, feeling stupid. "It’s just that there was one of them—called himself the Jheel—who... made things difficult for my shipmates," he finished lamely.

Tooe whistled, then said, "Golm Jheels, all three, bad, Zoral very very bad. Zoral hunt Momo," she finished.

Nunku said, "It is an old clan, and powerful. The young ones do not act worthy of trust. They want more power."

Dane said carefully, "The Jheel I mean works in the Terran Trade communications office. Do you know something about this Jheel?"

Another fast conversation in mixed Rigelian, Kanddoyd, and other languages, this time with other figures coming forward to participate.

At last Nunku nodded, and it was Momo who said, "Thou art my rescuer. I trade data. What needest thou?"

Dane sighed. How to explain? Ought he to explain?

He looked from Tooe to Momo to Nunku, saw them waiting expectantly. He had come because Tooe wanted him to; she kept talking about Nunku and the others like. like he would the crew of the Queen . Like they were family.

"Well, here’s what’s going on," he began.

Craig Tau ruffledOmega’s ears and stroked the sides of the cat’s muzzle, smiling at the resultant loud purr. Alpha headbutted his other hand, and he knelt down and for a time did nothing but pet the cats.

It felt good to empty his mind, to just play with the animals. They lived so much in the moment, without worrying about missing ships, or lying rumors, or vanishing credit—or personal problems among their crewmates.

A scratch on his arm brought his attention round to Sinbad, who batted him again. Now he had three cats to stroke. He reached down and scratched Sinbad’s wedge-shaped head, watching with a grin as the notched ears went flat and the eyes narrowed with pleasure. Sinbad’s rusty-sounding purr was twice as loud as the others’.

"Well, old friend, what should I do?" Tau addressed the cat.

Sinbad licked his lips and purred louder.

"That’s what I thought," Tau said with a wry laugh. "Keep my mouth shut."

Alpha jumped up onto his knee and tried to settle into a loaf despite the microgravity. Claws pricked through Tau’s trouser leg as the cat pulled itself down into his lap, making him wince. He gently lifted the cat down, hooking his calves under his seat to keep from drifting forward off the chair. He threw a couple of the toys he’d fashioned, and watched all three cats leap after them, their tails stretched behind them in the stabilizing position of a free-fall-acclimated animal. Sinbad lagged behind, not yet as adept in microgravity. Another clue to the identity of the Ariadne's crew: they’d evidently spent a lot of time in microgravity, which meant outside of human space where habitats were common.

The two new cats seemed healthy and happy, and Tau was glad he’d decided to let them out of isolation. Sinbad had been more forbearing than he’d dared to hope, for a cat who’d had the entire ship as his own territory for so long. Or perhaps he knew he’d be no match for the two newcomers under these strange conditions they seemed to know so well.

Of course the two had not ventured out into the ship yet; they seemed

content, for now, to stay in the lab.

Tau straightened up, his gaze on the three cats. If only it was that easy with humans, he thought. Of course, with some people it probably was that easy. But he’d served as medic for a shipful of reticent individualists for years now, and he wasn’t sure if he should break habit—no, tradition —and get the two on his mind to talk, or to just keep his own mouth shut.

It didn’t help when one of the persons under consideration was the captain and the other was the colleague with whom he worked the closest.

"Laboring hard, I see."

Tau looked up, saw Rael Cofort in the hatchway. She was smiling, looking immaculate as always from her coronet of auburn hair to the neat brown uniform. Tau’s gaze traveled back up to her face, noted the tired eyes above the smile, and he wondered when he should break that silence.

Perhaps he could better gauge his approach through the relative safety of work. "There’s something Captain Jellico wanted me to discuss with you," he said, and watched the subtle flicker in her eyes when he mentioned the captain’s name. The captain reacted the same way when Rael was mentioned.

"Have you ever been to Sargol?" he asked.

Cofort looked up from petting the loudly purring Omega. "Never heard of it," she said, smiling. "Except that mention in your records about the plague, and the incident with the drink."

"Good," Tau said. "Then you noted that those who took the drink were the ones who escaped succumbing to the plague."

Cofort nodded, stretching out a hand to Alpha. "And I read your lab reports on the new antibodies in their blood."

"Well, the change in their biochemistry may have gone deeper than we think," Tau said.

Cofort dropped her hands. Now he had all her attention.

"The captain has, as yet, asked me not to discuss it in front of Weeks

and the three apprentices, for a number of reasons—mostly to protect them. But it seems they are showing subtle signs of having been affected by the esperite we were exposed to before we landed on Trewsworld."

"Esperite," she repeated in a whisper.

"The exposure was minimalized, and so far none of us older ones have shown any effects, either ill or otherwise. But the young four, the ones who took that drink on Sargol, seem to react to one another’s moods without being aware of it. Sometimes they appear to know where the others are, again without thinking about it. Could be coincidence; for the first item, they’re all good friends, which would explain shared moods, and as for the second, it might just be logical deductions, for they’ve all helped each other in duties often enough and can easily extrapolate where the others might be. But. it seems to happen rather often."

She nodded, her manner now professional. "But we don’t discuss it before the others."

"Before any of the others, actually: as yet only the captain and I have talked it over. Now you know."

She did not make any direct reference to the captain. "What would you have me do?"

"Observe only, for now. If any—incident—occurs you think worthy of notice, get it into the lab reports. I’ll show you the password to that particular subdirectory."

She sighed, then straightened up. "Does the captain know you’re telling me?"

"No," Tau said. "He’s got enough on his mind. But you’re a medic, which means you need to be fully briefed."

Her lips tightened, her gaze going abstract, and suddenly Tau took his risk. "As your physician aboard the Solar Queen ," he said, "I am concerned about you."

Rael Cofort’s smile deepened at the corners, and one of her brows lifted with an ironic quirk. "Is there anyone else you are concerned with?"

Craig Tau faced her. "The captain has never been gabby, but I don’t remember when I’ve seen him this taciturn. Both of you have walked around this little ship doing your duties, unfailingly polite, and if you’ve addressed two words to one another since the day you were chased, I haven’t heard either of them. Did you two have an argument?"