Andre Norton - Derelict For Trade

Shver triumphal air. Then it was time to go. But it worked."

Van Ryke shook his head. "It wasn’t the song—if they even recognized it. What they liked was the way you stood your ground and played that silly thing while that fool of a Shver minced the stones around your feet."

Rip said, "What I want to know is, what did they say?"

Dane sighed again. "Just a minute. I don’t feel like I’ll ever breathe right again. whew!"

"Rest," Jellico said, clapping him once on the shoulder. "You can talk when we get to micrograv. You did well back there," he added, which praise—effusive for Captain Jellico— made Dane’s bony, long face turn a fierce red.

Rip tried not to laugh, and instead looked out the window as the pod raced up into lighter grav. The pressure eased slowly from his body, leaving a pins-and-needles sensation in his joints. He massaged his shoulders, noting the others easing necks and elbows and knees.

Finally Dane said, "Much better. And Ali was right, all the way down the starlane. The citizen told me I’d acquitted myself with such honor he couldn’t believe I would dishonor the blood or block the path."

"What?" Van Ryke exclaimed, his white brows rising.

"That’s what they were told."

"This is of the Blood, the Path, and the Conquest to Come," the cargo master said softly. "The formal statement of Shver honor."

Dane nodded. "So I guessed. He said it was a. I guess the easiest translation is ’a family obligation’; but it was an insult to them to have to challenge riffraff like us. Kind of like cleaning up the trash," he said with irony. "But he had to, or disgrace his family. And guess who forced them into it."

Rip and Van Ryke said together, "Clan Golm."

No one laughed.

Dane gave a grim nod. "That’s it. They disliked the duty enough to

believe that we might actually have a case, and so they chose the neutral approach all the way."

Van Ryke shook his head. "And except for Ali, we might have misread it to a lethal degree."

Dane said soberly, "True. All I could think of was fighting—and losing. I never could have lifted any weapon in that gee. Just holding this and blowing into it nearly killed me." He touched the bagpipe. "Anyway, by doing what we did, we made it clear we had no gripe with them, though I have to say, I was just as glad to be half fainting, when that sword came smashing down like that." He grimaced. "Anyway, now they say they owe us, and that’s when I told them all about Flindyk and the derelicts. The talk of hijacking got right to ’em."

Rip, remembering that deep growling, said, "It sure did."

"He said that Golm has been gaining influence through the office of the Administrator of Trade, more and more to the detriment of the other trading Shver clans."

"Interesting," Van Ryke said, steepling his fingers together. "Very interesting."

"And so?" Jellico prompted.

"And so we are to call on his clan if we want any help."

Jellico nodded slowly.

The others started talking over details of the duel, and how they’d reacted, and how the others would react when they heard about it. When the pod reached microgee, Rip felt as if his heart had lightened along with his body. Everyone was in a celebrative spirit as they made their way back to the Solar Queen . Only Captain Jellico was quiet, his gray eyes distant as if he was deep in thought.

When they reached the others, the whole story had to come out again, but this time it was properly celebrated in the galley with delicacies that Frank broke out, having saved them for just such an occasion.

Rip couldn’t help noticing that the captain still stayed silent, except for

sudden private talks first with Tang Ya, then Jan Van Ryke. He was going to shrug it off as not his worry when he noticed Tau watching the captain as well.

Time slipped along, and several crew members decided to call it a day and rest. It had been a long day, Rip realized; though the eternal lighting was the same, his body—strained the more by two trips to Shver territory—clamored for respite.

Something was wrong, though, he could sense it. But no one said anything, and at last he got up and swung himself through the hatch to go below and sleep. Dane had already gone, and Ali was just in front of him.

He’d gotten about four steps when he heard the crack of a hand against a bulkhead, and the captain’s voice. "Craig, if they’re not back in an hour, I’m going up to the Spin Axis to bring them out."

The Spin Axis. Rael Cofort and Jasper.

How long had it been?

Rip looked around for a chrono, and felt his head swim. He knew then he’d been awake too many hours.

Dropping his feet through the hatchway of the down-ladder, he pushed gently with his hands and prepared to catch himself at the bottom when there was a blue flicker at the edge of his vision.

With two fingers he snagged the edge of the ladder and halted his drop. Lifting his head, he watched Tooe zoom through the outer lock, rebound off the deckplates, somersault without losing an iota of velocity, and rocket straight up to the control deck.

"Captain!" she shrilled in her fluty voice. "Captain! We come!"

Rip’s eyes were still at the level of the floor; he felt a presence behind him, looked, saw Dane emerging from his cabin. "Tooe’s back," he said.

In silence the two apprentices ascended as Jasper Weeks and Rael Cofort sailed through the hatchway, clutching their gear, both looking tired and tense.

The captain dropped down from above, landing on the deckplates before the two, one hand keeping him motionless. "Why are you late?"

"The exigencies of events," Dr. Cofort said. Her hair was tousled, and there was dust smudging her face and clothing, but her eyes were alert, bearing a hint of challenge. "Do you not trust us?"

"It is the exigencies I don’t trust," Jellico returned.

"Sa-sa," Ali whispered, coming up behind Dane and Rip. "Another duel, eh, me hearties?"

"Shut up," Rip muttered.

"Freedom," the doctor said, unsmiling, "to a degree."

Jasper gave her one odd look, and the captain another, and silently Jasper pushed his bag of gear toward the hatchway where the other three apprentices were watching. They made space for him to drop below, but he just sent his gear out into the air and turned to watch as well.

The silence between the man and woman stretched until Craig Tau appeared from behind the captain, and murmured a few words to Cofort. She bent her head to listen, then her expression changed, and she said, "I’m sorry. I have a lot to report."

"So do I," the captain said.

"Then do it over a meal," Frank Mura spoke from the galley hatchway. "You both look like you need it."

They disappeared into the galley, and the apprentices turned to hand themselves down to the decks below.

"Wake up.”

Ali gave them a wicked grin before he dropped to the engineering deck. "Brace up, friends. The final confrontation is nigh."

No one asked him which confrontation he meant.

The voice seemed to come at Dane from the sky. He tried to look up, realized he was at the bottom of a well. A deep well, and he was buried from the neck down.

"Thorson!"

The voice was insistent, jerking him out of the darkness into which he’d drifted.

"You can’t sleep—none of us can. Captain said this is it. Dane, this is it

ff

Dane made a tremendous effort—and opened his eyes.

He was not in a well, but in his cabin, and the big, booming voice dwindled down to Ali Kamil, for once not drawling, or grinning, or lounging.

"I’m awake," he croaked. Even in microgee, it took an effort to move.

"Here. Frank sent these down with me," Ali said, holding out a drink bulb.