Andre Norton: Redline the Stars

In 1954 the Solar Queen series was conceived in answer to a request from one of the first Sf-Fantasy genre publishers in the field—Gnome Press. Since I was then reading manuscripts for this firm, I used for the books the pen name Andrew North. The publisher wished to develop space adventure stories which were not akin to the then steady flow of militaristic plots.

Because I had long been interested in the historical importance of the merchant adventurers of our own world in the past I plotted the ventures of the Free Traders—in my mind linking them to our earlier trader explorers and the tramp freighters of present day—having traveled on one such "tramp" myself.

I tried to create a crew of diverse backgrounds and character and plunged them into various perils which might naturally arise from their way of life. Which was done for four books—Sargasso of Space, Plague Ship, Voodoo Planet, and Postmarked the Stars,

Ms. Griffin, creator of the justly well-ranked adventure series of Star Commandos, agreed with me that the Solar Queen and her crew might well swing back into orbit— with certain new additions—namely a feminine member for the crew. Thus the Solar Queen lifts again for some more fateful voyages.

—Andre Norton

"Space Wrack! 'Space Wreck' would've been a more accurate name!"

Dane Thorson shifted his tall frame to better view the speaker, taking care not to jostle Rip Shannon, who was standing beside him. The Solar Queen's mess had never been designed to hold the full complement of the starship's crew at one time, and when an assembly like this was called, the twelve of them had to scramble for space. "She's sound enough, Ali," he told the Engineer-apprentice quietly, "and she's paid us well up to this point."

"Precisely, my innocent, but now that the Queen's free of her mail contract, what in space or beyond it are we going to do with the Wrack? We won't find many buyers out here eager to snap her up—that's how we were able to get her in the first place—we can't keep flying both ships with half crews indefinitely, not if we ever intend to get back into real Trade again, and we certainly can't afford to hire enough hands to fill out the duty roster on the pair of them."

Their Medic, Craig Tau, nodded. "All's right about our not being able to keep on short-handed much longer. The strain's beginning to tell even now, and we've had no trouble yet to push either ship. It's time to cut, at a profit, and not wait for something real bad to happen."

Miceal Jellico, Captain of the So7or Queen, said nothing as he listened to his crew's discussion. His gray eyes swept the company. Seated with him at the table were the starship's senior officers: Jan Van Rycke, easily the best Cargo- Master in the ranks of the Free Traders and maybe in all Trade; the Mars-born Com-Tech Tang Ya; Steen Wilcox, the Queen's Astrogator; Chief Engineer Johan Stotz; Tau; and Cook-Steward Frank Mura. Standing above and around them were the three apprentices—Dane, who reported to Van Rycke; Rip, who worked under Wilcox; and Ali Kamil. With them, rounding out the roster, were the huge Karl Kosti and his slight, almost bleached-pale associate, Jasper Weeks, both, like Ali, from Stotz's department.

A good crew, the Captain thought somberly. He hoped he had not repaid their services by effectively ruining the lot of them on this one.

The gamble in buying the Space Wrack had paid off short-term. They had been able to grab the Trewsworld-Riginni run when it had opened up and had more than recouped their initial investment and expenses, but now it looked like they were not going to find disengaging from the commitment quite so simple.

Damn it to all the hells! The Solar Queen and her crew were Free Traders. They belonged in deep space, out ranging the starlanes, not perpetually hopping back and forth between two planets in the same solar system.

They did not belong on a simple mail run, either. They had been glad enough to take it in the need of the moment and had done better than might have been expected with it, but profits were small, and the work brought little satisfaction. It was time and past time for them to return to Trade as they knew it, with all its hardships and with the chimera of either fabulous fortune or sudden, maybe highly unpleasant death shimmering over every voyage. If they were forced to accept another long mail contract because they could not dispose of their sister ship, it could be the ruin of them as a crew, a team, but if the careful feelers he and Van Rycke were sending out failed to pull in a buyer, they would have no other option. Better that than be unable to meet their port fees and have to turn miners in order to keep body and soul together.

His spirits lightened abruptly when his attention shifted for a moment to the Cargo-Master. Van Rycke was not quite whistling, but there was a distinct air of triumph about him.

The big man felt his gaze and met it. His brows, white- blond like his thinning hair, lifted. "Something on your mind, Captain?"

"Just wondering about what's on yours. You look like you've just found a fistful of sunstones in a bag of salt."

The other chuckled. "Nothing quite that dramatic, but I might be able to add a bright line or two to our catalog of prospects."

"Spill it, then," Jellico snapped. Far be it from him to begrudge his friend the pleasure of dazzling them all with yet another of his miracles, but when the welfare of his ship was concerned, he preferred to be kept informed . . .

Van Rycke's eyes sparkled. "In due time. Captain." He sobered immediately. "We have a potential buyer for the Wrack."

"What! — Why in space . . ."

"She only contacted me a few minutes ago. I was on my way to tell you when you called assembly."

"What's the offer?" Miceal demanded. "And who's the buyer?" He could not recall any likely immediate prospects. Trewsworld's government was the most logical candidate, but the colony planet lacked the trained personnel to crew a starship, and hiring the needed people would be an expensive proposition. They were figuring on long and careful negotiations to convince the on-worlders of the eventual wisdom of such a move.

"None other than Rael Cofort, acting on behalf of her illustrious brother, of course."

If the Cargo-Master had been looking to provoke a reaction from his comrades, he succeeded admirably. Teague Cofort had made so many incredible strikes in what was not a terribly long career that he was a legend throughout Trade. When he moved on anything, it was inevitably with purpose.

Cofort enjoyed the luxury of choice in the charters he took on or even considered, and his interest in this was confirmation of the strong base the Queen had laid down here, coming in as she had at the very opening of regular commerce between the two planets of Trewsworld and Riginni, and, indeed, in initiating it. Whatever his reasons for wanting the freighter, the opportunity of picking up the local Trade operation was likely a good part of the draw. Ships like the Space Wrack were easily found on the star- lanes he usually traveled for those with the credits to pay for them. The Trader prince had no need to come this far out on the rim hunting one. Space, he could order one new from the shipyards!

Jellico's finger pensively rubbed the blaster scar that marred his right cheek. They would be going into the negotiations very much on the weaker side, but there would be no negotiations at all if Cofort did not need or seriously want the Wrack. He was no philanthropist and drove a good bargain for himself, but he had a reputation for dealing fairly. There was no reason to expect less of his sister. If the Queen's representatives kept then" wits about them, they could come out of this with something to show over and above the gains they had already made.