Andre Norton - Derelict For Trade

Burning with the Rightness of their cause, they didn’t yet see the inevitability of this outcome. One of Miceal Jellico’s earliest memories was the realization that the universe wasn’t fair. Though everyone looked at their crossing of the threshold from child to adult in different ways—some merely by age, others by more conventional marks of passage such as graduation from tech training, or making a career choice, or marriage—Jellico’s private acknowledgment of his own adulthood was the conscious decision that, though the universe was not fair, he still could be, to the best of his endeavor. He did not expect justice, or mercy, or intervention from an indifferent cosmos, but he did want to be able to know, whenever his life came to an end, that no good person took harm at his hand, and no bad one was aided. Aid in his definition included standing by and doing nothing.

He fully expected Flindyk, or whoever, to come after him. That didn’t mean he couldn’t make some preparations of his own.

He leaned forward and hit the com. "Ya?"

"Captain?"

"Come here. I’ve an idea."

"Be right there, Chief."

The com light went blank, and Jellico leaned back again, gently propping one boot on the edge of his desk, keeping the other magged to the deck.

He also disliked cowardice, and the truth was, his refusal to examine his emotions concerning Dr. Rael Cofort could no longer be attributed to expedience—which meant he was a coward.

He sighed and shut his eyes, remembering without any effort at all the

intensity in her violet eyes, the determination expressed in every line of her slender frame when she had faced him down in the meeting. So she’d fight for her lost souls at the Spinner, eh?

And he remembered her standing outside the lab, passionate, honest, and completely unafraid, when he threatened to ground her. What she’d fired right back at him was true: would he ground Tau?

He knew he wouldn’t.

So if he wouldn’t ground Tau, but he would Cofort, then. then.

He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes.

The truth was that he had found what he had never thought to find, the companion who could keep stride with him, match wits with him, who was as intelligent as he was, and as loyal, and as passionate about doing what seemed right and to hell with the odds against. He’d seen that kind of commitment twice in his life, and both times he’d also seen the terrible grief that resulted when something happened to one partner. That was life in Trade. He’d made the decision never to risk himself that way, never to permit himself to fall in love, but it seemed that the decision had revoked itself.

He couldn’t live Rael Cofort’s life for her. He couldn’t force her to bide in safety and contentment somewhere far from risk, to ignore the teeth of danger when she saw a true cause. If she were the sort who would permit him to hedge her round with the padding of security he would never have fallen in love in the first place.

Ya tapped at the door.

Jellico sighed, and keyed the door open, and— Coward ! his inner voice taunted him—turned with relief to the problems at hand.

"Now here’s what I want," he started.

Dane had been over the Queen once, and no Tooe. She’d never before left without telling him, not since she’d understood she was on probation, so he must have overlooked her.

At least that was what he hoped. He decided to be more methodical,

starting with the treasure room down in the cargo area, which the crew had left untouched since the Denlieth run—and where she’d apparently hidden during her time as a stowaway.

He was on his way when he felt a twitch of awareness behind him, as though Rip Shannon had called him in so faint a voice he almost didn’t hear it. Without thought he turned back to his cabin.

In the corridor between his and Rip’s cabins stood Tooe, with Rip. The Rigelian’s crest was spread at its fullest, her yellow eyes so wide they seemed to glow. "Come!" she fluted. "Dane, you get help, we go now, Flindyk comp. Quick!"

"What’s this?" he asked.

Tooe one-handed herself up the ladder so they were on eye level. She bobbed in the air, held by her webbed fingers on the steel ladder pole as she said, "Nunku says, they find ferret soon. Nunku says, we don’t stop now, the Monitors go through Spinner, kill everyone. Nunku says, klinti help now, we go out of Spinner, we go to Flindyk office. You bring help."

"Help? You mean Ya and Rip for computer delving?" Dane asked.

"I think she means for muscle," Rip said with a grin.

Tooe nodded, so violently she bobbed up again, and her crest snapped out flat as she handed herself back to the level of their heads. Dane’s mind had been distracted by the way Tooe worked to keep her head oriented in the same direction he and Rip did—as if there was normal grav—and not at the most convenient angle for her next move. She was doing her best to adapt to human ways, and yet she’d left without telling him.

Doubts assailed him afresh. Was this after all another big game, as big in its way as the hijackers’? Was the Queen being used by the Spinner klinti to get at the authorities—and had they all been manipulated by those pitiful stories?

Dane shook his head hard. "Wait a minute," he said. "Tooe, why did you leave? You agreed to the terms of your probation."

"Is this the time—" Rip started.

"Yes," Dane cut in. "Right now. She’s my responsibility. I have to get this straight."

Tooe’s pupils flicked from slits to round, making her eyes dark. Her crest folded back at an odd angle, one he didn’t remember seeing before.

"Do you understand my question?" he asked.

"Tooe understand, me," she replied, her voice plangent. "Captain say, ’It’s up to us.’ Captain want plan. I go to ask Nunku—"

"Why didn’t you ask me first?" Dane interrupted.

Tooe’s voice went high again as she blurted out a fast answer in Rigelian, then she said, slowly and painstakingly in Trade, "Tooe always talk to Nunku when trouble. Dane always talk to captain when trouble—except when go with Tooe to Spinner, first time."

Dane sucked in a deep breath. He’d never considered she’d observed his actions as closely as he’d observed hers. "Well, what I did was stupid, but I thought it was to protect the captain in case I. well, got myself into trouble."

Tooe’s crest tilted in a humorous mode, but she said nothing.

"All right," he said. "I can see you had a reason, and I know you want to save your pals up at the Spinner. Except. if you’re going to really sign on with us, then your first loyalty is going to have to be with us." He tapped his chest, then turned his thumb at Rip and up at the captain’s cabin.

"You have to think about the Queen first."

Tooe’s pupils narrowed again. She was still silent.

Dane said awkwardly, "We can talk about it later, all right? Now, what’s this plan? We’re going now?"

Tooe gave a nod. Dane knew the dangers of attributing too-human emotions to someone not human, but she seemed slightly less energetic, and even her voice was a bit lower as she said, "We go now. Quick, search computer. Find last data. Bad place, Flindyk office, many many traps. Maybe Monitors come, maybe other people." She smacked her palms together lightly. "Try to catch us. You bring help?" she ended on a note of

inquiry.

Dane sighed. "May’s well." He turned to Rip, who raised a hand as though to say "Count me in."

"My first thought would be Kosti—"

"Mine too," Rip said. "No one gets past him whom he doesn’t want passing. There’s Mura, who is an expert in martial arts. He hasn’t left the ship yet—I don’t know why—but he might be willing now."

Dane snapped his fingers, then caught at the ladder so he wouldn’t bounce. "Go ask him. I’ve got someone else to ask," he said.