Derelict For Trade

5

" Passed the inner beacon," Rip Shannon’s voice came over the com from the other ship.

"Acknowledged," Tang Ya said. Then he keyed his console and looked up at Captain Jellico. "New instructions coming in."

"Pass them to my comp," the captain said, his hands steady as he piloted the Queen towards the immense construct now filling space dead ahead.

A moment later, they received word from the Starvenger that they too had received the docking and debarkation instructions.

Rael Cofort, from her vantage in the passenger’s seat, looked up at the screen showing the slowly approaching habitat. They were vectoring in along the cylinder’s long axis, straight toward the immense lock yawning at its center, surrounded by a wilderness of metallic complexity thickly forested with antennae and projectors and less identifiable objects. For a moment, dizziness seized her: the lack of scale made the metallic disk seem to suddenly swell to planetary size.

Rael shook her head to dispel the illusion, and instead saw the complexities of the habitat framed by the clean, plain, almost austere lines of the Queen's control deck. During her years of trading with her brother Teague, she had visited two habitats, one of them Exchange. Each time she’d experienced the same vertigo: somehow, the artificial nature of a habitat made its size more viscerally awesome than any planet. Too, the uncanny silence of their approach was far too suggestive of the most terrifying of all sounds to a spacer: jet failure, which during the usual planetary touchdown almost invariably meant death.

"Velocity point zero zero eight," said Tang Ya. They were now moving as slowly as a ground vehicle, thought Rael. No, almost at a walk. But the beacon warnings on the way in had been unequivocal: here the speed limit was enforced by death, for despite its size, a habitat was fragile—a ship under full power that went astray could puncture through places that would cause the entire cylome to vent to space.

Now the disk of the cylindrical habitat’s end cap was a plain of complex metal shapes stretching out to either side, while ahead she could see the docking berths, bright blue-white lights strobing from the one they’d been assigned. Slowly the edges of the immense lock slid past as the habitat swallowed the Solar Queen, and the ship trembled as Captain Jellico triggered the maneuvering thrusters in quick bursts.

Rael looked around at the Queen's control deck. The contrast between the bristling technology outside the viewscreen and the functional ordinariness of the Queen was symbolic. On Exchange, fabulous technology was the norm—almost a fad. The Kanddoyds had to have the latest, the most complicated, the fastest, whether ships or food preparators. In contrast was Jellico and his crew, who worked with every evidence of contentment using ship technology that in some areas would be seen as outdated, and who lived plainly—as if on a planet—no matter what kind of gravity or environment they found themselves in. It seemed a part of their innate honesty, the straightforward approach to problems, to life, that had attracted her to them in the first place.

But she wondered how they would endure living in a place like Exchange.

"This is weird," said Ali, his voice rough. "Being inside like this."

"No degrees of freedom," agreed Van Ryke.

And that, thought Rael, was anathema to spacers, and Free Traders in particular.

A flicker at the edge of her vision caught her attention, and she suddenly realized that the immense space around them was alive with motion: small vehicles of every description and even figures in space suits swarmed around other ships in the huge bay and up into the vast corridors which radiated outward towards heavier-gee areas. They’d been assigned a berth in microgravity.

Tang Ya suddenly looked up. "General com incoming," he said.

Jellico gave a single nod. "Put it on."

Ya tabbed a key, and this time the voice that filled the bridge was a peculiar one, reedy—the kind of voice, Rael thought, a violin would have were it to speak.

"Welcome, Terrans of vessel Solar Queen, to the cylome graced with the cognomen The Garden of Harmonious Exchange. You will find here representatives of many worlds, far systems and near, conducting their important trade in perfect amity, hosted by three races, the Kanddoyd, the Shver, and the Terrans. Our laws, agreed in the Concord of Harmony between our peoples, can be found on Terran Standard Channel Twenty-seven. We wish, in the friendliest spirit, to draw your attention to those designed for everyone’s safety, foremost being those governing relations between the three species signatory to the Concord."

"Standard hoo-la," Stotz muttered over the intercom.

"If you are puzzled, dismayed, astounded, or confounded, we invite you to visit your representative of the Terran Stellar Patrol, Captain-Legate Ross, who resides on level five, domiciled in the Way of the Rain-dappled Lilies."

Ali gave a sudden laugh. "I think I’m going to like it here."

"Our representative, Exalted Locutor Taddatak, will indulge himself the inexpressible joy of a visit to your vessel to negotiate the nominal fees that, alas, we must ask of our visitors in order to maintain our splendid facility for your pleasures."

The voice cut out just as a flurry of booms and clanks announced that the berth had firmly grappled the ship; but so precise had the captain’s piloting been that they came to rest with almost no sense of deceleration.

"All right, we’re in," the captain said.

Tang Ya watched his console. "They’re bringing up the dock access tube; Thorson is overseeing the mate—" He frowned as a query light blinked. "It appears that they insist on controlling life support from their end."

Jellico looked up in question. Rael said, "Standard procedure, as you’ll see when you have time to read their contract. We didn’t like it either, though it turned out to have a benefit we hadn’t planned for: dangerous biota from all three races are automatically filtered out. Our filters weren’t that prepared."

Jellico turned back to Ya and gave a short nod. The comtech touched the intercom and said, "Go ahead, Thorson."

A flurry of activity then began, as both the crew of the Solar Queen and the dockside workers made the Queen fast, hooking up each life-support system and checking it before the Queen relinquished control. Once that was completed would begin the age-old process of negotiation for services and fees. Rael Cofort stayed out of the way; this was not her job, though she could help in an emergency. Right now her best help would be not to clutter the paths of the others.

So she moved toward one of the ports near the outer lock and glanced out. Though the Solar Queen herself was still in vacuum, the berthing equipment included a long tube bent at right angles, connecting the Queen to a lock giving them access into the habitat. Long strips at intervals on the tube were clear, affording her a view of anyone coming or going.

For a short time suited workers signaled back and forth as each system was locked in, checked, and equalized; then at last the green-go lights flashed. Moments later there was movement in the tube, indicating arrivals. From her vantage she could see the locutor moving toward the Queen at a rapid pace, with two or three minor officials scurrying behind. She glanced up, saw Frank Mura also looking out—and was surprised to see a look of strain on his face.

Her lips parted, but she repressed the exclamation she’d been about to make. Almost immediately Mura turned away from the port and retreated to his cabin off the galley. She heard the door hiss closed.

Once again she glanced out, this time trying to see the Kanddoyds with the eyes of a newcomer. They were mammalian beings, bipeds, and they had two arms, two legs, and a head, but there the resemblance between Terrans and Kanddoyds ended. Every centimeter of what would be skin on a human was protected by intersecting layers of chitinous material; the effect was a kind of elaborate armor, augmented by the decorations the beings were so fond of. Their heads were small, well protected by conical, flared chitin rather like a helmet; their carapaces were segmented, and also looked like armor. Not just any armor, but...

She frowned, reaching back in memory. She’d studied Terran history, and knew she’d seen something rather like the Kanddoyds before.

She turned away from the port, and her gaze fell by chance on one of the tiny trees Mura nurtured, and suddenly she had it.

Samurai warriors, ronin—the Kanddoyds looked like armored warriors from the days of Bushido in Japan.

Rael winced. Frank Mura did not talk about the cataclysm that had destroyed the Japanese islands, homeland of his people for countless generations, but she had studied the effects of cataclysm on people. They were capable of grieving for generations.

Should she say anything? No. But she’d watch, and listen.

Dane wedged himself between the curve of a bulkhead and a wall in the mess. Eleven of the Queen's thirteen were there. Looking around, Dane realized that Steen and Rip had remained on the Starvenger. And this time they weren’t radio-linked with the Queen.

As if following Dane’s thoughts, Captain Jellico said, "The two who go out to the salvage ship on the next rotation can report to Wilcox and Shannon. I don’t want the comlink used unless there’s an emergency either way. This place has communication technology that we’ve probably never heard of. We don’t know who might be listening in, and why, and there’s no use in finding out the hard way. For now we’ll do our reports in person."

He paused and looked around. The others all nodded or made murmurs of agreement. Jellico’s hard mouth lost some of its tension as he turned his gaze to Frank Mura.

The compact, quiet-faced steward said, "I calculated what we have against the latest posted exchange rates, minus the value of Macgregory’s letter, and what it amounts to is this: we can buy ourselves a Terran week or maybe two to resolve our business—if everyone sleeps on board the Queen."

A couple of people sighed, and Dane grimaced in sympathy. He hated living in microgravity, and made a mental note to find the equivalent of a Kanddoyd public gym—if there was such a thing—down at the one-grav section, so he could work out and not lose his muscle tone. And to eat, if I can, he thought, remembering unfondly how spectacularly messy food spills were in micrograv.

"I’ll visit the legate and see if there’s a way to shorten this registry process," the captain went on. "What will take all of your ingenuity, Van, is your managing to turn this cargo around."

Van Ryke smiled broadly. Dane couldn’t help grinning at the blatant anticipation in his superior’s face—the man lived for just such a challenge.

Jasper Weeks said soberly, "We listened to the entire Concord." He indicated himself and Kosti, who nodded. "From the sound of their regulations and formalities, it’s going to take longer than from here to Terra in hyper jump to get the salvage claim going."

Jellico nodded. "I know. I heard it out as well. It seems to be the Kanddoyd way—a dozen extra visits for every piece of business, so that no one ever has to say no, and thus everyone saves face. This is why I’m going first to the legate. Ross is here to look out for the interests of Terrans. He ought to be able to tell me how to make this as quick and painless as possible."

Again there were murmurs of agreement. They’d had some run-ins with the Patrol in the past, but for strange reasons that had eventually been proven not their fault. Even if the Patrol were somewhat rough and ready in their approach to problems, Dane thought, no one had ever accused them of corruption or unfairness.

"We’re now on dirtside shift schedule," Jellico said. "I’ve posted the rotations to the Starvenger; you’ll each serve, in pairs, forty-eight Standard hours. Off limits are the domiciles of the Shver and Kanddoyds—stay in the Exchange areas. Also, stay away from the warehousing areas of the Spin Axis. Dr. Cofort?" He turned suddenly to the woman. "Explain?"

Rael Cofort said, "You won’t find any mention of this in the official tapes, but there’s a lawless element living up there. Apparently even the Monitors of Harmony, which is what they call their peace enforcers, don’t go up there—at least the Kanddoyd ones don’t go. The Shver arm of the Monitors do, but that’s to keep an eye out for the Deathguard, which is a very dangerous gang of Shver outcasts who make their living through hiring out as assassins. There are other kinds of outcasts there as well, and my brother told me once that high-caste Shver sometimes go hunting the denizens there, for sport, and no one does anything about it. The Kanddoyds just pretend the area doesn’t exist."

"So this supposed Harmony is a sham?" Mura asked, frowning.

Cofort shook her head. "Oh, it’s stable enough—at least when we came here before, there had apparently never been any major trouble since the Concord was first hammered out. And the Kanddoyds are very friendly beings. The Shver are rather different."

"The Shver are all right if you respect their customs and stay out of their personal space," Van Ryke said. "But you’ve got to remember that at the other end of their sphere of influence they are still conquering worlds as a solution to their population problems."

Jellico’s glance came back to rest, as if by chance, on Ali. "Get in their way—say something they don’t like—and you’ve got a duel on your hands. They’ve channeled their aggressions into hunting for outlaws at the Spin Axis, and into formalized duels, but those aggressions are still there." He paused, then said, "Any other questions?"

No one spoke.

Jellico nodded. "Those scheduled for leave time can depart now. I’ll see if the Terran legate can get us moving on the paperwork faster. Doctor, if you’d go with me and show me how to get around?"

"Gladly, Captain," Cofort said.

They left.

Dane looked across at Ali, who gave a little sigh. Dane wasn’t fooled. Ali seemed incapable of permitting anyone to see that he had normal emotions, but just the same he knew that Kamil felt the same way that he and Rip did: what had happened to the crew of the Starvenger was their mystery to be solved, and if they, couldn’t solve it before leaving the Exchange, it wouldn’t be for lack of trying.

Rael Cofort was considerably amused to find that the evocative name of the captain-legate’s corridor—The Way of the Rain-dappled Lilies—seemed to have originated entirely in someone’s imagination.

There were certainly no lilies in sight, rain-dappled or otherwise.

In fact, she thought as she paused outside the entrance-way to the legate’s quarters, hadn’t the Kanddoyd world lacked rain? She recalled reading about the race’s long battle against growing radiation from a swelling sun, and the fierce, hot, scouring winds that had driven them underground before they had finally abandoned their home and taken up life in space—one of the few races that did not live on planets. At any rate, these domiciles were all exactly alike to the human eye—plain steelplast doors set in blank walls. Only the nameplates varied; each was inscribed in three scripts, Kanddoyd, Shver, and Terran.

The corridor was situated in what inhabitants considered a prime area, Rael knew; the front of the domicile looked out over the breathtaking curve of the habitat. Odd, she thought, the dichotomy between enclosure and exposure: it was, she knew, a constant of Kanddoyd architecture.

"Coming, Dr. Cofort?"

Captain Jellico’s voice interrupted her perusal of the corridor. She looked up, saw that the legate’s door was open and a diminutive Kanddoyd waited just beyond for them to enter.

She glanced up into Jellico’s face as she walked inside, expecting impatience with her lagging behind. His mouth was pressed in its familiar noncommittal line, but there was a hint of humor in his narrowed gray eyes.

"The honored legate welcomes sentients from his home planet with ineffable joy," the Kanddoyd said in its odd, grainy voice, while portions of its complicated carapace rubbed against other portions, making cricketlike chirrups. "If the imposing visitors from far Terra would ambulate this way?"

The being gestured down a narrow tiled hallway, then turned and led the way, its chitinous feet clicking rhymically. As Jellico stepped behind Rael, he murmured, "I sense it’s been a while since the last Terran visited Ross."

Rael nodded, trying not to smile. A moment later the Kanddoyd and its odd Terran vocabulary were forgotten when she stepped through into a spectacular garden straight from Terra. A flower-scented breeze wafted in her face, and she heard the sounds of birds and insects, and the hush of leaves tossing—and realized, with difficulty, that this was a masterfully done holograph.

"Do you like it?" A quiet voice spoke from under one of the trees.

Rael realized she had gasped. Stepping forward, she peered into the shadows just as a tall, thin, spectral-featured man emerged into the light.

"I have eight projectors," Ross said. He lifted an arm and waved it—and the movement cast no shadow. "Keeps the proportions correct as well. The aromas are recent additions to my air system."

"Roses," Rael said. "Roses, jasmine, carnations. Grass."

Ross smiled. His features reminded Rael of a sad hound dog. "I hoped I had the proportions right. Six years it has taken me to program all the details. But I really think I have the proportions right. Do you?"

Rael looked up at Jellico, who said only, "I haven’t been dirtside on Terra for a long time."

"I have been there more recently," Rael said, "and I really think you’ve captured the best of the gardens I’ve ever visited."

"It’s a combination," Ross said eagerly. "I’ve seven specimens of the genus Rosa of the Rosaceae family, and that there is Epilabium angustifolium... and of course these varieties of Liliaceae..." He stopped suddenly, seemed to recall himself, and said, "Forgive me. I get enthusiastic over this hobby of mine. You are here on business. Shall we step into the office?"

He tabbed a control hidden in the holographic shadows, and a door seemed to open in one of the trees, making the whole scene seem still more unreal.

Once Rael stepped through, she felt that the universe had righted itself again. She found herself in a plain office, furnished simply in what was probably regulation for Patrol officers of Ross’s rank. The lighting was efficient, and there were several ordinary chairs opposite the desk. Strangely, though, Ross’s windows and view ways were completely blocked: there was no sign of the sweeping view that made outside domiciles so desirable to habitat dwellers.

Ross sat down behind the desk, and folded his hands. "Now, how may I help you? I take it you are not here on ordinary Trade business?"

Captain Jellico said, "Correct. We discovered an abandoned vessel on our way into the system."

Ross said, "There are standards set for the registry and claim of salvage under the Concord of Harmony."

Jellico gave a brief nod. "We’ve studied those."

Rael, acutely aware of the shades of Jellico’s voice, sensed impatience. She said smoothly, "The explications that were sent along with the text of the Concord were admirable in their completeness, but it seems if we follow the directions contained there, we’ll be spending weeks going from office to office performing polite rituals as we get passed from official to official." She opened her hands. "Unfortunately, we are facing a time limit to our visit here."

Jellico added, "I hoped you could assist in telling us precisely whom to see and what papers to file so we can keep this process as short as possible."

The Patrol officer said, "I have no jurisdiction in this area, of course, but I can see if there’s a chance that the trade administrator will be able to aid you. Can you give me your ship ID and that of the one you found?"

Jellico quoted them, and Ross typed them into the computer, then sent his message. "As you probably surmised, business with Kanddoyds is a pleasant but leisurely affair. Ordinarily it takes time just to get an appointment. As it happens, you are in luck. The Administrator of Trade Executed in Perfect Amity is human—or at least, he was born human." Ross paused, looking slightly pained; Rael wondered if whatever changes the administrator had gone through repelled Ross.

"Flindyk, isn’t that his name?" Jellico said.

Ross smiled. "You have done your reading."

"Isn’t that a Kanddoyd name?" Rael asked.

Ross turned to her. "It is indeed a Kanddoyd version of his name, which I understand was Flynn von Dieck. He doesn’t use the Terran name at all anymore—hasn’t for a couple hundred years."

"A couple hundred years ?" Rael repeated.

Ross nodded. "He’s a nuller now—lives in null grav up near the Spin Axis. He can go down into the low grav of the Kanddoyds for a certain amount of time a day, to work. If you can adjust to that kind of life, you can extend your years almost indefinitely, I understand." He glanced at the communications status light, and then looked up, his dark eyes expressionless. "It probably isn’t going to work, trying to supercede the system, but it was worth a try—"

A blinking light suddenly went green, and a message flashed across his console.

Ross looked slightly surprised. "You are in luck. The administrator will see you right now, himself, if you care to go along to his office in the Trade Administration building."

Rael and Jellico got to their feet. "Thank you," the captain said.

"Do make certain that all your data is correct, though," Ross cautioned. "Flindyk is known to all three races as being scrupulously careful, a by-the-book administrator, favoring no one or no race over strict adherence to the Concord."

"Which probably explains why he has been successful for so long," Rael said with a smile. "Thank you, sir."

Rael led the way out, and they found the maglev that led to the Trade Administration building.

This building made the most of its lack of weather; it was open to the habitat, with spectacularly elaborate gardens on complicated terracing. The offices were mostly hidden behind flowering shrubs with exotic, delicate fronds that had never known lashing wind or punishing temperature changes.

Rael had been here before, had been happy to wander about as Teague executed his business. Now they were met by a Kanddoyd functionary who spoke Trade perfectly, and who complimented them each several times before finally asking their business.

Rael answered as best she could, inwardly hiding her growing

amusement at Jellico’s impatience. Not that he showed it, but she was sensitive to his moods, and felt him watching the time as the Kanddoyd led them along this garden path and that one—only to be introduced not to Flindyk but to yet another functionary, this one even more elaborate in carapace decoration (and wordage) than the last.

Finally, though, they were taken to a larger building at the back which had mosaic-lined corridors and offices at intervals along them. Flindyk’s suite was an exceptionally large one, as would be expected for an executive.

The official took them directly to a door cleverly hidden in a fabulous mosaic. Inside was a room that looked more like a garden than an office. Many of the appurtenances were gold, and everything was screened by delicate ferns that had been nurtured in null grav and grew in fabulous patterns.

Rael gained a hasty impression of all this artistic beauty, but what drew her attention and kept it was the large holofract of Terra spinning slowly in the middle of the room. All the plants and furnishings were planned around the vast fractal image, evolving slowly to a logic of its own in mimicry of a distant planet that Flindyk would never see again.

Rael moved closer, admiring the loving detail that highlighted each familiar mountain range and body of water. There were even white spirals moving gently across each hemisphere, realistic weather patterns that made Rael feel a sudden, intense longing to go home.

"Beautiful, is it not?" a mellow voice said.

Rael turned, feeling heat burn up her neck.

Behind a truly splendid console-desk was the biggest Kanddoyd she had ever seen in her life. For a moment she stared at the elaborately beautiful carapace of fine amber-colored wood, gilded and jeweled, covering a body of gigantic proportions. Her gaze traveled up to a round, smiling face and she felt unsettled for a moment, as if her eyes couldn’t decide if this was a Kanddoyd wearing a disturbingly real human face mask, or a human encased in a Kanddoyd carapace. This, then, was Flindyk, the human who was several hundred years old.

"We appreciate your seeing us right away," Captain Jellico was saying.

"He probably told you we are on a tight schedule and want to expedite this business as fast as we can."

"Ah yes," Flindyk said, his hands touching the fine console inset into his desk. The keytabs were extremely costly porcelain, gold-painted. From the faceting on the status lights, Rael strongly suspected that these latter were jewels.

"You are captain of the Solar Queen, and you seem to have attached a derelict? The. Starvenger!

"Snapped out of hyper and sucked her into our wake," Jellico said.

"Well, if you provide proper data, including your visual records and copies of your log, we will compare this with the records from Trade Central, and see if we can get your business moving along briskly," Flindyk said. His hands tapped lightly at his keys, then he sat back and waited. A moment later a spool extruded from a slot. "Here you go," he said, smiling. "Just have your communications officer append the data requested on here, bring it back to the prime facilitator, Koytatik, whose function this comes under, and you’ll soon be on your way."

"Thanks," Jellico said. "We really appreciate the help."

"For my fellow humans it is a pleasure to extend the extra effort," Flindyk said genially. One hand waved gracefully at the holo of Terra spinning in the center of the office. "Though I have been happy enough here, I do miss the old world, and I envy you who can go back."

Rael felt a pang of sympathy for the man; she realized that at his age, and size, he could never risk being in normal gravity again. A visit to Terra would kill him.

"If there’s anything else I can do for you, anything at all, you know the way to my office," Flindyk said cheerily.

They both thanked him and departed, Jellico tucking the spool into his tunic pocket.

"I think our luck has finally turned," he said, smiling.