by Alma Boykin
“Um, Mistress, ah,” the apprentice sputtered, loosening his grip on Rada’s arm. She broke free and resumed her usual position behind Zabet’s left hip. Zabet spun around, dropped onto all four feet and stalked off, radiating disdain and anger. Rada followed, hands and tail quivering from the adrenaline.
Well, she’d shaken them off this time, and now Rada found a place in the designated meeting area. Zabet appeared almost before Rada could slip her data-link back into its case. «This way. I have a commission to attend to,» the reptile reminded her “Pet.”
“Very good, Boss.”
Half a kilometer inside the Mart gate, a crimson, cobalt, and white sign caught the Wanderer’s eye and she stopped, discreetly glancing around for the Traders as she did. “Free concert and meal,” Rada Ni Drako read aloud. “Silmali orchestrations from Marquart’s transcription of the traveling cycle, followed by a tasting of Silmali specialties. Concert space and annex, tonight at half-dark.” Rada glanced at her data-link and converted the local designation to roughly 1800 hours, or two hours from the current time. “I wonder what the catch is?”
Zabet flopped her ears back and forth and rippled her tail. «Probably have to listen to a sales pitch between the concert and the food. Has the deposit cleared yet?»
“I’m not checking it while standing in the middle of the pedestrian lane, Boss” Rada protested. The True-dragon snorted, dodged a fast-trotting delivery courier, and pointed to the closest step-aside. “Too public.” Rada walked another hundred meters and stepped off the pedestrian track and onto a set of metal stairs leading down into a pocket garden with some trees and a shaded bench. Zabet minced down the stairs behind her and claimed the bench. From there the True-dragon could watch and see if the Traders had given up shadowing the two textile merchants.
Rada logged into their account, reconfirmed the secure connection through the Dark Hart, and read the latest numbers. She caught Zabet’s eye and flashed a hand sign, her tail wagging with pleasure at finding a service bonus. Zabet signaled her understanding and went back to watching the passing pedestrians as Rada logged out. “OK, Boss, what do you want to do?”
Zabet’s whiskers twirled as the silvery-blue reptile considered their options. «Get something to eat, and see if we can find some embroidered panels, like so.» Zabet eased off the bench, rose onto her hind legs, and measured a distance with her forefeet. «And about so wide,» and she spread her talons.
“Any color or material in particular?”
«High contrast and not too loosely worked, no big loose loops or floppy trim,» the True-dragon cautioned. Rada nodded, tucked away her data-link, and after a glance around wiggled her wig slightly, making certain that it remained snug. She knew that the glue holding her whiskers in place held firm because it pulled and stung. She’d gone tabby again, posing as a Feltari pilot. Zabet walked back up the stairs and waited for a gap in the flow of Mart guests. «Let’s go, Pet.»
The partners rejoined the stream of merchants, shoppers, officials, and the merely curious visiting the Hanso Soft Goods Mart. Every other Hanseri year, a month-long Mart offered textiles, threads, tools for cloth-working and cloth-making, and related goods. Fixed shops, portable booths, and wandering sales-bots overflowed with colorful materials, while long sheds housed heavy weaving equipment and some of the less-toxic (at least for the local species) chemicals used in textile processing and finishing, including dye-stuffs. Rada and Zabet paused at the display-projection of a lace and cutwork maker. Rada pointed to a long strip of white and pale blue threads worked into a pattern like breaking ocean waves and noted, “You could overlay that on a backing material.”
«Yes, but that means finding someone to do the work. Unless you’ve taken up a new hobby,» and Zabet strolled on after poking Rada with her tail tip.
True-dragon and Wanderer studied several menu displays and two more trim dealers before settling on a café that specialized in protein- and vegetable-stuffed pastries. Rada entered her preferences and basic restrictions, as did Zabet, and customized menus appeared in their table. The mammal had to look up two of the grains, and made a face as she read the data entry about one of them. No, thank you: food-induced hallucinations tended to interfere with business. Rada and Zabet ordered, and called up a Mart map on Rada’s data-link.
Zabet started to tap the display, caught herself, and swept the back of her talon along one side of the main textile section. «Let’s go there after we finish. I recognize a few of the names, and if they don’t have what I want they will know where to look for it.»
Rada gestured her assent, distracted by the quartet of creatures squeezing into the booth on the other side of the table, behind the privacy divider. They seemed about two meters tall, bipedal with long forelegs and short, thick club-like tails. Silky looking fur with a faintly iridescent sheen covered everything but their oral cavity, two eyes, and a third sensory receptor between the eyes and mouth. Rada tried not to stare as the fur moved, rippling into various patterns as one or the other of the creatures spoke and gestured. Zabet pulled her own data pad out of the case on her carry harness and began looking up more information on some of the specialist Mart merchants, ignoring her new neighbors.
One of the four held up a translator box, asking, “Should this be reset?” Mart rules required that everyone not fluent in Trader have an operating translator device with them at all times during Mart open hours, for safety reasons.
“No. Our business no one else knows,” a second creature averred. They spoke a curious variant of Trader and Rada strained to understand the dialect.
“What do we wrong?” the palest of the four asked.
“Nothing do we wrong,” a darker grey individual on Rada’ side of the booth stated, its fur sweeping back and forth. “Offer entertainment and food do we. Our music is very popular now. Our food popular will be, is growing in market already.”
Rada guessed that the quartet were Silmali, since she’d seen no other groups or businesses offering both food and entertainment.
The next speaker, seated beside Zabet, confirmed Rada’s deduction. “Price for goods is correct. Humans always take free.”
The first speaker’s fur surged into a chaotic mass as it protested, “Then why are no humans taking the offer? Four times tried have we. Supervisor is displeased with we.”
Zabet slid her data pad out of the way of the food delivery mechanism as two platters emerged from the machine at the end of the table. The reptile’s sapphire-blue eyes widened and her round ears flopped back as she heard the Silmali’s next words.
“Widen the entrance will we.” The fourth Silmali’s dark fur fluttered before slicking down into a sleek, solid pelt and the Silmali added, “not only pure humans tonight. Pure humans best but others usable and have already said are interested in free concert and meal.”
Rada took a bite of her meat-and-cheese-filled pastry and sucked a little air to cool her mouth. “Very fresh,” she managed to explain.
Zabet rolled her eyes and flipped her talons in the sign for “dummy.” Rada, busy devouring the hot and tangy stuffed bun, ignored the comment. Neither did Rada say anything when Zabet discovered for herself just how freshly baked the bread-rolls were, flopping her tongue out of her muzzle to cool it. The Silmali’s order arrived and Rada observed how their fur moved away from their mouths, staying clean. It must be nice to be able to control your haircoat, the Wanderer sighed to herself.
Rada and Zabet finished eating and returned to business. Zabet led the way, stopping at five different shops and two booths before Rada heard the magic words, «ah hah! Those are perfect,» inside her mind.
Zabet locked on target like a laser-guided missile, all but dragging Rada through a cluster of Floaters and past an irritated Trader Trademaster. «That is exactly what I have in mind,» the True-dragon declared.
Rada studied the lengths of fabric hanging on a display rod. The brightly colored bands, as wide as Rada’s hand, sported brilliant embroidered patterns, some figurat
ive and some in random shapes and zigzags or swirls. One especially striking pure white piece sported stark black floral patterns interwoven with lush green chain stitch. Rada heard the hiss and pop of Zabet’s teleconverter and the artificial voice inquired, “Where are these from?”
The crustacean behind the “counter” tapped some plates with a narrow claw, keying its own translator. “The weave strips? They source Rieger’s World. Weaver mort, were last set. Half sold, set broken.” That explained why no color combination repeated, and Rada sighed silently. Given the pieces’ length, two of the turquoise embroidered, dark blue bands would have made a luscious hem panel on one of her dresses.
“Oh? Too bad. I am looking for full sets,” and Zabet drooped a little, disappointed. Or so a stranger would think. Rada, one eye on Zabet’s tail tip, knew better. The little quiver betrayed her boss’s excitement and desire. “How much for the black and white one?”
“One hundred twenty credits, regional standard. The others are one hundred, or two for one hundred eighty.” Rada winced; the sales creature knew its stock.
For once Zabet did not try to dicker the price down. “I’ll take the lot. Perhaps I can find someone to duplicate the patterns,” and she presented her credit ring. The blue and brown crustacean took the ring with one claw while removing the fabric strips from the display using two other forelegs. With deft motions the salesbeing laid the material on a length of protective cloth, then folded everything into a secure, crease-free bundle. At the same time, the crustacean processed the purchase and returned Zabet her ring and her receipt, leaving Rada amazed at its coordination and precise movements.
Zabet passed the bundle to Rada. The mammal stowed it in her carry bag, activating the touch lock. The bag’s metal mesh lining would frustrate any muggers or cut-straps attempting to rip open or cut the container, or even remote scan the contents. “Next stop, Boss?”
«Something to drink, and then we leave and deliver these to the final buyer,» the lithe reptile ordered, dropping onto all four feet and striding away at a brisk pace. Rada hurried to catch up. «Do you want to look into that ‘free’ concert and meal?» The question took Rada aback until she caught the True-dragons’ meaning.
The Wanderer answered silently, «No. We’re not local law enforcement, and I have no idea what the Silmali have in mind. And you are not humanoid. I’m not either, at the moment,» Rada reminded her employer. «If the Silmali want humans, they should raise their prices, especially given how popular Silmali music is.»
Zabet swished her whiskers in agreement. «Humans out here don’t go for ‘free.’ Free equals junk, or so the humans at the Mart seem to think. I’m inclined to agree with them.»
“Unless it is ‘free thing if you listen to our sales pitch, or free if you buy one at full price,’ I agree too,” Rada trilled in Feltari. The Trader walking the other direction eyed the Wanderer-hybrid. The lean, pale woman noted the ears, stripes, tail, and lateral-whiskers, and ignored the Feltari. «Boss,» Rada added silently, «that was a Trademistress.»
Zabet acknowledged the warning, neither slowing nor hurrying her steps. Rada and Zabet left the textile section and strolled along the pedestrian path, watching the thinning crowd and studying the signs. They’d spotted a few “no mammals allowed” notices and Rada had no desire to have to drag Zabet out of a bar argument about discrimination. Rada also kept her eyes open for any Traders. Zabet had undercut the Trademaster from da Peerlan the day before and if looks could kill, both True-dragon and Feltari would already be explaining themselves to their respective gods. Rada glanced over her shoulder and spotted four Traders shadowing her and Zabet. The mammal slid her hand into her jacket and loosened the safety strap on her pistol, just in case.
When Rada glanced back again, the quartet had stopped in front of the Silmali’s sign. “Wasn’t Rorik going on and on about Silmali music being the next trend?” one of the men asked.
The Trademistress nodded, her long white-blond braid blowing a little in the evening breeze. “Very popular in Silmal near-space and gaining in sales. Da Kavalle tried to get a transport contract but two groups went with Rowfow and the third opted to stay on Silmal, or so I heard.”
«Are you going to warn them?» Zabet hissed, breathless.
The senior Trademaster compared the local time with that on the sign. “We shall attend the concert,” he informed his subordinates before Rada could answer Zabet. The Trademaster pushed his knee-length braid of hair out of the way and pointed to the door. The journeyman opened it and all four Traders filed in.
Rada fought to keep a straight face as her tail swished back and forth. “Do you want to explain that we were eavesdropping on someone at a Mart? That might give the wrong impression, Boss, even if we have the best, purest of intentions.”
Zabet started to reply, dodged several Floaters in a rolling transport tank, and shook her head. «No, they’d probably assume we’d committed some other impropriety besides eavesdropping. We don’t even know just what the Silmal want with them. And they could probably stand to learn about the value of free things. Hey!» The two females dodged another transport tank, joining the other pedestrians in flashing signs of disgust with the Floaters. «And transport tanks are not allowed on the pedestrian walk!»
“Quite true, Boss, but I don’t feel like arguing over right-of-way.” Nor did she feel like rescuing the people who had been stalking her. “This place has spiced fruit wines and juices,” and the mammal pointed to the digital notice with her tail, flicking her ears.
Zabet read over the list and thumped her tail against the doormat. «Perfect. First round is on me.»
3: A Failure of Discipline
“I have come to pay the blood debt owed to House Garrlow,” Rada told the gathered True-dragons. Out of deference to Garrlow’s Head, only the dimmest of lights could be seen, casting the seven reptiles into deep shadow. Utterly exhausted and sick in heart and soul, Rada Ni Drako stood at parade rest and wondered how hell could be any worse than what had brought her here, to this cavern on the western edge of the Wildlands.
She soon learned. Show us, Naldori, the House Head, ordered. The others turned toward the albino, linking their minds to his. Show us all, he repeated. The force of his mind’s power drove Rada to her knees and she bowed her head, opening her memories and reliving the last twelve days and nights.
Rada and her boss, Zabet, had been on Jilko III, walking back from supper or whatever the Joirey called their evening meal. Rada’s remote communications link with the Dark Hart began chirping. The humanoid female shrugged her tail and clicked the secure link from her ear-piece into the small device. “Commander Ni Drako receiving, go ahead,” she answered in Azdhag. She listened to whomever or whatever was speaking and frowned. “And when was the last time the post replied to a call?” Zabet’s whiskers twitched with curiosity as she tried to catch more than just Rada’s end of the conversation. The mammal glanced at her True-dragon employer and made the forefoot sign for “stand by.” The silvery-blue reptile flattened her ears and gestured back, “hurry.” Rada replied with a single extended digit as she said, “Understood. Please inform his Imperial Majesty that I will arrive on Drakon IV in four hours. Ni Drako out.”
«What’s up?» Zabet demanded as soon as Rada disengaged the “talk box.”
“Damn if I know, Boss. The Defender post at Edgehill estate stopped answering calls three days ago. Now Lord Karsee is no longer replying to hails from the Capitol and there are rumors of an unauthorized landing in that area. So Defender Nree has his tail in a twist and King-Emperor Schleer demands that I do something about it.”
Zabet sent Rada a mental image of her opinion of the two Azdhagi. The mammal shook her head. “Don’t tempt me, silver dancer. You know I can’t permit myself to think that sort of thing about his Imperial Majesty, even if it might be true.”
The True-dragon entered their passcode for the spaceport entry field. A soft chime sounded and the pair hurried through the weakened energy field, t
hen passed between two heavy metal panels. Zabet paused long enough to read the arrival and departure board and confirmed that it would be safe to cross the distance to where the Dark Hart waited. «No one had better do an engine test while I’m on the ramp or so help me I will fillet the...»
“Nope. My turn. You can hold the idiot and I’ll fillet them,” the mammal corrected with a warped grin. “Where do you want to go?”
The reptile considered the question as they skirted the main landing pad. Trader and other timeships parked behind a vision barrier here; their constantly shifting and flowing exteriors made the natives working at the spaceport feel queasy and nervous, so it was safer for everyone just to keep the timeships out of sight. Rada noticed a new arrival and hesitated, then relaxed. It was a Rowfow ship. The steerer looked at Rada and Zabet, and deliberately turned its visual organ away from them. The partners exchanged a look and grinned. The Trader clans and the Rowfow detested each other heartily, meaning that the steerer would not say a word about Rada’s presence here, even if asked.
Rada stopped grinning shortly after leaving Zabet on Dusky’s World. She couldn’t raise Edgehill, even on the automated emergency call system. Worse, she sensed a very strong potential developing in Drakon IV’s timestream that should not have been there. It did not seem to be an imposition, meaning that no one else was attempting to manipulate Drakon IV’s past, but a strong sense of not rightness permeated the planet’s timestream, as if a series of events were combining to cause a change in the world’s history that should not happen. The ’Hart did not care for the knot and let Rada know very clearly. She reassured the psycho-symbiote that she would sort out the problem as best she could, then concentrated on working with the ship to get them safely to the Azdhagi home world at the time she had specified.
