Zach Hughes - For Texas and Zed

ForTexasand Zed by Zach Hughes

Chapter One

"Well, sirs, you swing down the Orion Arm with the fires of a sun in your belly, point out in the plane of the disc toward Carina and turn right to Puppis. Beacon blink on the RR Lyrae stars near Orion past the black hole in Taurus. When you see the Beta Canis Majoris on the left you blink on the giant Cepheid on an angle of thirty-five to the galactic ecliptic to Auriga and after that it's a matter of blinking by the seat of your pants."

"And, as I follow your rather poetic instructions," said Jum Anguls, First Leader, Ursa Major Sector, "you end up in nowhere."

"In the big lonesome," Murichon Burns said. "The boonies. The outback."

"Are we wasting the gentleman's time?" asked the lady, with an imperious stare aimed in Murichon's direction. She wore stylish starcloth, spangled, transparent, her tipped mammaries soft peaks pushing against the frail material.

Anguls chuckled, crossing his tightly clad, fleshy thighs. "When dealing with provincials—" He winked at Murichon. "Gwyn has so little patience, you see. They move swiftly on the old Earth."

"To talk in specifics when dealing with honest traders is expected," Gwyn said, forcing her full lips into a semblance of a smile. Her eyes, in her dark face, were glowing jewels, slanted upward. Her skin had the richness of satin-deep space, but lighter, tending to creamy brown, the complexion of the mother planet. In contrast to her, to the white softness of the skin of Jum Anguls, Murichon was reddened, roughed, weathered. His rough spacecloth, dull blue, against the richness of the others' clothing, seemed rude. Yet he was at ease while Anguls chewed a fingernail and looked at him askance and the female blinked at him through force-grown lashes of half an inch length.

"The Republic is not asking for inclusion on the Empire's star maps," Murichon said. "I am here to sell meat. If you're buying, fine. If not—"

Murichon looked out the huge expanse of window and saw the city below, alive, blinking, moving. Trails of fire where arcs lit the lanes, flashes of color as ad-signs lured and promised, the movement of traffic at ten levels, all below, crawling up in whites and reds in the foothills and then abating in density as the galaxy itself thinned toward home. And as he looked b could imagine, hear in his mind, the din, the roar, the sigh and moan of millions crowded into small spaces and his heart flew the countless parsecs and yearned for the Bojacks of Texas, the trackless plains with the grazing herds, the wide sky, the soft caress of the winds of home.

"We are, of course, buying," Anguls said, "but I think the Lady Gwyn has a point. We do not intend to take delivery on meacr steaks dehydrated to the point of cured leather or softened to carrion."

"You ate," Murichon said. The table testified to that. He'd grilled the steaks himself, after picking them at random from the selection he'd brought in on the Texas Queen . "Quick-frozen. In transport for thirty-two standard days—"

"Via Orion and Taurus and the third Cepheid on the left," Lady Gwyn said.

"I know a shortcut," Murichon grinned. He turned, bellowed. The loud call startled the Lady Gwyn, causing her to spill a drop of goodRio Grandewine on the tiny skirt of her costume. She frowned, reached for a napkin. She paused in mid-motion, the spilled wine forgotten, as a tall, young man appeared in the doorway, tray in hand. He, too, was dressed in space blue. However, it was not his attire which froze the Lady Gwyn into admiring immobility for a second, and then sent her long lashes fluttering.

"My son," Murichon said. "He's called Lex."

"Lex," the Lady Gwyn breathed.

Lex himself had not recovered as quickly as Gwyn. His face, already showing the character lines, the weathering, was flushed, his eyes locked on the area of brown skin showing above the low neckline of Gwyn's costume.

"Won't you join us?" Jum Anguls said.

Lex looked down from his six foot seven inch height and raised his eyebrows in question toward Murichon, waiting. When Murichon nodded he moved, saying, "Sure," to place the tray and its steaming contents at table center and then to swing one long blue-clad leg over a chair and ease his weight down with a soft thump.

"Your manners, boy," Murichon said.

" 'Scuse me, ma'am," Lex said, not sure what he'd done wrong.

"Now this," Murichon said, "is meacr steak which was frozen sixty days before lift-off. That ages it to over ninety days."

"My dear fellow," Anguls said, rubbing his distended belly, "I don't know about the appetite of you, what do you call yourselves?Texasmen?"

"Texicans," Lex said, speaking as he speared a steak on a fork and flopped it onto his plate.

"But the ample size of our previous repast," Anguls said.

"Just a taste," Murichon said.

"Ah, well." Anguls sighed, cut a dainty portion with delicate, long-nailed hands. He lifted the bite to his lips, after sniffing it, chewed thoughtfully. "The preservation process seems to be quite effective."

Allowing for transshipment to other systems, using your warehouses as a distribution point, you'd have six months to receive, sell and distribute before there would be any noticeable deterioration in quality," Murichon said.

"Sometimes out on the plains we keep it without cooling for a month," Lex said, talking around a cheekful of meat. "Gets a little ripe—"

"Please," Gwyn said, frowning.

"Course, you can dry it in the sun," Lex said. "Makes it chewy. Keep it all winter that way."

"As to terms," Anguls said. "As you may or may not know, a minimum of sixty percent of total shipments would have to be carried in Empire hulls. This is a basic requirement, you know, over which I have no control. Price? On that I am more flexible."

"Negative," Lex said, putting his fork down with a clatter. "I'll handle this, boy," Murichon said. "No Empire ships onTexas," Lex said, his voice cold. "Will you shut up?" Murichon roared. "Sorry, Dad, but—" "But me no buts, just shut up, enjoy the view and eat." He had not missed the fact that his son's eyes

seemed glued to the red-painted nipples of the Lady Gwyn's mammaries. "No Empire hulls," he said, looking deep into Jum Anguls' watery eyes.

That's what I just said, Dad," Lex said. "Impossible," Gwyn said, letting her eyes leave Lex's bulging arm biceps for a moment. "Our Space Guilds would not hear of it."

"Way I hear it," Murichon said, "your Space Guilds are hungry, too. But that's it. You've got the price. You've got the terms. Delivery on Leader Anguls' site inTexashulls. Payment in acceptable metals. No paper. No credits."

"Mr. Burns, what you propose is not only impossible, it's absolutely inane," Anguls said, his face serious.

"Are you implying that the coinage of the Empire is not stable?" "I ain't implying anything," Murichon said. "But we damned sure can't spend Empire paper onTexas." He rose. "Well, it's been a long day."

The two Empire people, accustomed to long, leisurely meals followed by stimulants, looked up, shocked by such discourtesy. Gwyn, glancing at the First Leader, saw danger in his face. Quickly she put her hand on his arm. "We are not dealing with civilized men," she whispered, as they rose together. Anguls coughed back his anger and nodded.

"I will deliver your terms to our Economic Board," Anguls said. "I do not offer, however, any hope of

their being accepted." Murichon shrugged. "Cassiopeian metals aren't as good as yours, to be frank, but they aren't slaves to their Guilds." He yawned massively, not bothering to cover it. "Lex, you wanta show the good folks out?"

"Yeah, in a minute," Lex said, stuffing his mouth, wiping it on the back of his hand, rising while chewing and swallowing. "You turning in, Dad?" "It's been a long day, as I said."