“How are you?” he asked. “Rezac saw bruises on you. We’ve been worried.”
She frowned. “Bruises?”
“Your wrists.” Kris indicated them.
“Oh, those,” she said, looking at her wrist. “I got them the night we talked at the pillar. It’s nothing.”
“You sure? You don’t look well. Don’t cut us off, Jo. You’re making both you and Rezac suffer Link deprivation. If you keep it up, neither of you will be in a fit state to do anything.”
She raised her head to look him squarely in the face. “You think I want either of you there, inside my head, at this time?”
“I’ll stay out, but let Rezac back. I honestly think you’re making it worse for both of you. I’ve never seen him so worried.”
She considered it for a moment. “Very well, I’ll open the Link a fraction, enough for him to be aware of me, no more. Tell him not to force a greater contact.”
“I’ll speak to him. Railin says he’ll not interfere in our plans and the caravan will wait for us ten miles outside the town. They’ll organize trouble with one of the wagons and need to stop to fix it.”
She nodded absently as she saw Taradain returning. “No more, please. Rezac should have a package for you. Our kit. Taradain got it back for us.”
“How’s he going to get away with this? Surely his father’s going to know he’s responsible.”
“He’s got it covered,” she said, putting on a smile and beginning to get to her feet. “We’ll come for you late tomorrow night,” she murmured. “Be ready.”
*
Morning saw the four of them sharing breakfast downstairs in the tap room. At this time of day, with only the spacers there, it was quiet. Their Sumaan crew was just leaving for the Hkariyash to work on the engines. A message from Assadou was handed to them by one of the servants: Carrie and Kusac were to meet with the Chemerian at the eleventh hour in the Port Hotel. Meanwhile, they were to discover which Lords currently had agents in the Port. They were usually to be found in the Meeting Point Tavern.
Kaid and T’Chebbi decided they would return to the ship. Ostensibly they’d help with repairs, but actually they’d use the opportunity to poke around the maintenance sheds, looking for spares in the hope of hearing some useful gossip.
Carrie and Kusac took the time to amble down the town’s only street as touristsâ spacers on leave for a few days with money in their pockets to burn. Most of the stalls were already doing a brisk trade and despite having just breakfasted, they found the smells of cooked food too good to ignore. They stopped at one selling meat rolls and continued on their way, munching contentedly.
“These are good,” said Carrie, stopping to catch a handful of crumbs as a corner of flaking pastry fell.
“Popular, too,” agreed Kusac, cramming the last piece into his mouth. “That’s usually a sign of good food. We need to watch what we eat here, though. The last thing we need is to be laid low because of an infection from the local food.”
She murmured an assent before letting out an “Oh!” of surprise and heading straight for a stall selling knives of all types from kitchen utensils to jeweled eating knives. Some ten minutes and a lot of spirited haggling later, Carrie had bought an eating knife. Six inches in length, narrow of blade, it ended in a lethal point. The tang had been encased within wood so black it resembled ebony, contrasting vividly with the polished steel quillons. The pommel was a single translucent milky-white stone with a heart of lilac-colored veining that spread in tendrils toward the surface.
As she ambled along fastening its plain black scabbard to her belt, Kusac took her by the arm, drawing her toward the buildings opposite the stalls.
“Meeting Point,” he said, tilting his chin and flicking an ear in the direction of the sign overhead.
This tavern was obviously intended for business use. Wide rectangular tables with roomy padded benches and wooden armchairs were set in individually walled alcoves. It was a far cry from the scarred wooden dining tables and plain benches at their inn. Several of the alcoves, their tables covered with papers, were already occupied by Sumaan and U’Churian crews deep in conversation.
They made their way to the bar, ordered a couple of ales, then went to find somewhere to sit. Before they settled themselves, a shadow loomed over them. Looking up, Kusac saw Captain Tirak.
“I had not thought to see you again so soon,” the captain said. “Join us. I presume you’re here to locate the various agents.”
“We are indeed,” said Kusac, beginning to rise. “It would be a pleasure to join you.”
Carrie looked up at him as she rose to her feet, noticing that as she did, the U’Churian gave a small start of surprise. As they headed over to where two of his crew sat, she probed gently at the edges of his mind. Once more she met the mental barrier. Switching her attention, as she smiled in greeting and sat down again beside Kusac, she touched the minds of the other two. Again the same barrier. It was uniform for the three of them.
Crude but effective, sent Kusac. You’re right, though. It isn’t a natural one. I’d say they’ve come across telepaths already.
More than that, his was the mind I touched when we landed here. There was no barrier then, sent Carrie.
Curious and curiouser. We’d do well to be on our guard with them.
“Sheeowl and Manesh,” Tirak said, indicating his two crew members. “If I remember, you’re Carrie and Kusac.”
Kusac nodded.
Their ales arrived and as they tasted them, Carrie pulled a face.
“Not to your liking?” asked Sheeowl, pushing her tankard forward. “Try this. It’s a local hot beverage and more pleasant than the recycled dishwater they serve here.”
Carrie tasted it gingerly, a smile of surprise crossing her face. “It’s like chocolate!”
Sheeowl raised her brows. “Chocolate?” she asked. “A Solnian drink?”
“Similar. Ours needs sweetening as it’s quite bitter. This is much more pleasant.”
Sheeowl looked toward the bar and, raising her hand, indicated her drink and held up two digits. “Share one with me,” she said.
Tirak turned back to Kusac. “Agents. What goods are you after this trip?”
“Not after. I’m to sound out the market available for Solnian crafts.”
“Ah. New markets,” he nodded. “Anything that might interest us?”
Kusac shrugged. “Tastes differ. Doubtless when Assadou’s finished showing our samples to the Jalnian agents, he’ll make them available to the interested captains.”
Tirak sighed. “As usual, we’ll get to see the tag ends that no one else wants. Nothing changes.” He took a drink of his own ale. “Sound business practice, though, considering most of us have our cargoes already spoken for. Few of us have the money to buy extra goods. This damned backwater planet runs a cash only system, no credits.”
“Sarak’s and Haram’s agents just came in, Captain,” said Manesh.
Tirak looked over to where the two wealthily dressed Jalnians were standing by the alcove nearest the door. “They’ll come over to us at some point,” he said. “We have goods for them on board the Profit. I’ll introduce you, if you wish.”
“How many Lords does Bradogan allow to trade here?” asked Carrie.
Tirak turned to her in surprise. “Your command of our language is excellent,” he said.
“I had plenty of time to learn it during the journey here,” she replied, catching his eye in a long stare before blinking slowly.
“Ten,” he replied, breaking the contact and blinking rapidly a couple of times.
They don’t like sustained eye contact, she sent to Kusac.
“They pay quite high taxes to Bradogan for the privilege of trading with us,” Tirak continued. “The agents live and work in the town, coming here regularly to deal with us. Are you after someone specific?”
“Assadou wants us to meet with them all, give them our sales pitch and see who’s interested. Then we’ll set u
p a meeting for them with Assadou.”
“Wait here long enough and they’ll all turn up,” said Sheeowl, taking the drinks from the servant and handing her a couple of coins. “They watch for the new arrivals and come here to meet them. They already know there’s a new species wanting to trade.” She pushed a tankard over to Carrie.
“The bulk of our cargo is cloth for Lord Turna and he’s due to meet us at some point this morning. You’re welcome to remain with us during our business meeting.” He shot another glance across the table at Carrie. “Perhaps your companion will learn by listening to our bargaining.”
“She’s a pretty shrewd negotiator in her own right,” said Kusac wryly. “But knowledge of the local agents and how they operate would be very useful. We’ll accept your offer with thanks.”
“Cloth,” said Carrie thoughtfully, sipping her warm drink. “If I remember correctly, cloth is not something your world is known for; rather, it’s a product you import in bulk.”
“Ordinarily, you’d be correct,” said Manesh, “but this is a cargo of open weave cloth suitable for using for preserved meats and such like. It’s a trial order. Lord Turna wants to see if it’s cheaper and better for the job than the local product he uses.”
Trick question, I think, sent Carrie. I sensed their surprise in their body language when they realized I knew about the cloth. Watch them, they’re definitely suspicious of us already.
*
By midafternoon, Carrie was unable to contain her impatience any longer. I’ve had enough. Let’s head for the hotel and Assadou. It must be about time to leave anyway. And once those three agents spread the word that we’re here with new goods, the others should come looking for us.
You’re right.
Kusac tapped Tirak gently on the arm to draw his attention.
Pausing in his writing, Tirak looked up at them.
“We have to leave now,” Kusac said. “Time for us to met with Trader Assadou. If any agents should ask for us, we’ll be eating at the inn tonight.”
“I’ll pass the message on. If there’s room at our table, join us.”
“We will, and many thanks for your help today.”
Tirak shrugged. “You’re welcome. At the end of the day, Home benefits from all of us who learn to trade effectively.”
*
Sheeowl watched them leave. “Why are you befriending them?” she asked. “I’d have thought you’d rather keep them at a distance.”
“Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer,” said Tirak, bending his head again to his paperwork. “Damn, but I’ll be glad when this world’s opened up fully! All this hard cash and paper forms!” He glanced at Manesh. “Did you check on the cryo units before we left?”
“Yes, Captain, you’ve asked me that already today. The young people are fine. Mrowbay is a competent medic; you have no need to worry.”
Tirak growled briefly in annoyance. “I like putting them there as little as the rest of you, but what option have we? I want to find out what’s going on here and the last thing we need is two innocent-looking spies in our midst! Hell, they can probably sit and chat with us as nice as you please and be mentally telling that pair,” he indicated the door by which Kusac and Carrie had just left, “that they’ve been tortured and abused by us! You tell me what other option we had?” he demanded, looking at them in turn.
“You know my opinion, Captain,” said Manesh. “They should have been there from the first.”
Sheeowl sighed. “You’re right, of course, and they aren’t really children, as Manesh says. I suppose putting them in cryo is in their best interest as it prevents them from feeling they should get involved.”
“Captain, I think I should point out that it is possible that the two females are not from the same species. After all, the eyes of the one called Carrie are very different from Kate’s,” said Manesh.
“You saw them, too?” Tirak gave an involuntary shiver. “Uncanny, eyes like that in such a face and body. I’m inclined to believe they’re both Humans.”
“Or both Solnians,” said Sheeowl.
“Humans,” said Manesh. “This Kusac and the other two are posing as U’Churians so they’re obviously working covertly. Kate and Taynar aren’t. I say we hear the truth from them.”
“Nothing has changed, I want all four of them kept under surveillance as we discussed last night. I want to know what’s going on here. At least we’re a few steps ahead of them. We can be pretty sure that it involves the Valtegans, and rescuing that female in the Spacer’s Haven. I’d trade my tail to get a look at that crashed craft! I’m sure it’s a crucial factor.”
“Didn’t the female tell you much?” asked Sheeowl with a grin as she took a sip of her drink.
Tirak shot her an angry look. “No, she refused to talk about her past.”
“So, did you?” she prompted, eyes like saucers looking at him innocently over the top of her tankard.
Tirak gave a rumble of annoyance and shoved his empty one across the table to her. “I paid for information, not sex! Do something useful. Get me another drink.”
When she’d left, he found Manesh still regarding him. “Might have been useful to get that close to her. You can learn a lot about a species from their intimate habits.”
“What’s with this sudden intrusion into my privacy?” Tirak demanded, ears flicking edge on then lying sideways. “Go follow them! See they are heading for the Port Hotel!”
“Sayuk is doing that,” Manesh replied urbanely. “Two of us will attract their attention. I am better in here, watching to see if anyone takes an unusual interest in this Solnian cargo.”
With a hiss of annoyance, Tirak resumed his scribbling.
Chapter 15
“What d’you want?” asked Jeran, not bothering to look up from the container he was checking.
“May the sun shine on you today,” said T’Chebbi quietly in Sholan.
Jeran froze, then swung round to see who’d spoken. The look of surprised hope faded slightly as he looked at what he thought were two U’Churians. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said cautiously in the same language. “Off-worlders aren’t allowed in here.”
“You’re quite a distance from home yourself,” said Kaid. “Sholans don’t usually travel this far.”
Jeran moved closer to them, reaching out to touch the gray tunic the male wore. Closing his eyes briefly, he sniffed the air. “Sholans. Gods, you are Sholans, and Brotherhood! I’d all but given up hope! The others, have you found the others yet? How’d you get here? Has Miroshi recovered?” The questions came tumbling out as he grasped Kaid’s forearm with both hands.
“You are first,” said T’Chebbi.
“She was so ill, I was afraid she’d die!” He stopped, realizing what she’d said. “Only me? I’m the first?”
Kaid loosened Jeran’s grip, clasping him by the arm and drawing him back into the shadows from which they’d come.
Stopping only to pick up his clipboard, T’Chebbi followed them.
“If the others are alive, we’ll find them,” Kaid said reassuringly. “We don’t know much about you, not even your names. Only that there were four of you.”
Jeran began to sway as he passed a shaking hand over his forehead. “Four. Yes, there are four of us.”
T’Chebbi guided him to a container, urging him to sit down. Putting her hand against his neck, she checked his pulse. “Is only shock,” she said. “Which one are you?”
“Jeran Khesrey, Life-Support engineer from Szurtha,” he said automatically. His eye ridges met in a frown as he looked at her tunic. “Gray with purple? Only telepaths can wear purple, Miroshi told me.”
Kaid squatted down in front of him. “Some of the Brothers are telepaths. Is Miroshi a telepath? We heard there were two.”
Jeran turned to Kaid again. “Yes, a truthsayer from the offices. We were on our way from the Chakuu Mining Corporation moonbase to Szurtha on leave when they took us. I guess we were the lucky ones?”
Kaid nodded. “They destroyed Szurtha and Khyaal.”
Jeran closed his eyes. T’Chebbi put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “All gone?” he whispered. “No one left?”
“Nothing,” said Kaid. “I’m sorry, but I have to push you now. We may not have long before we’re disturbed. The other two. What are their names?”
“Tallis Vrenga, he’s the other telepath. He was one of the supervisors. And Tesha Freyash. She was in communications. I don’t know where they are. They separated us, sold us off like livestock….”
T’Chebbi gave him a small shake. “Enough,” she said not unkindly. “Soon it will be over. Not yet, we have others to find, but soon.”
“Can you leave this area?” asked Kaid.
“No, they keep me here because they know I’m an engineer. I check cargoes but if they need me to work on anything, I’m available.”
“Do you get called on often?”
Jeran shrugged. “Rarely. They don’t want the U’Churians to see me and start asking questions. You know there are Sumaan here?”
“They only involve themselves in their employers’ business,” said Kaid. “They’re true mercenaries.” He looked across at T’Chebbi. “Maybe our ship has life-support problems, eh?”
“Assuredly. Smelled burning seals when they tested it this morning.”
“Ever worked on Sumaan systems?” he asked the young male.
Jeran’s ears were pricked forward now, listening to their every word. “No, but how different can they be?” he asked.
Kaid let his mouth fall open in a grin as he stood up. “We’ll be in touch. Do nothing to draw attention to yourself in the meantime. We have more than you to rescue.” He turned to leave, then stopped.
Can you receive me? he sent, studying Jeran’s face.
“What is it?” he asked, looking puzzled.
“Nothing,” said Kaid, grasping him by the shoulder. “Stay strong. As she said, it’ll soon be over.” Pity. It would have been useful, he thought to himself.
A puzzled look crossed Jeran’s face and he shook his head. As he did, the pendant he wore glinted at the neck of his tunic. “Did you say something?” he asked.
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