Razor's Edge

by Lisanne Norman

  We could always leave the caravan and head for the hills, either on the way there or back. Maybe even make it look like we were taken in the night by bandits, suggested Carrie.

  Possibly a better option than sitting waiting for Killian’s agent to appear, agreed Kusac. “The goods are transported in wagons, aren’t they?” he asked.

  Assadou nodded. “They travel in a caravan for protection. There are many bandits in the Jalnian hills.”

  “Then it wouldn’t seem amiss if you insisted that two of your people traveled with this caravan to ensure that the goods arrive safely, and to gauge for themselves how the Jalnian Lord and his family react to the new trade items,” said Kusac. “That might persuade Bradogan to give us our permits.”

  “This could be suggested,” agreed Assadou. “Lord Bradogan keeps strict watch on who goes in and out of the Port town, and aliens are rarely permitted to set foot on the real Jalna.”

  “Rarely,” said Carrie, frowning at him. “Last I heard it was never.”

  Assadou began to blink rapidly, a sure sign of embarrassment. “Is not something that happens often. Who in right mind wishes to go among such violent people?”

  “Haven’t seen any sign of their violence yet,” said Kusac indifferently. “They seem as normal as Chemerians to me.”

  The look he received was pure hate as Assadou pulled himself up to his full seated height of three feet. “Chemerians peaceful! Not violent, not kill one another!”

  “No, you get the Sumaan to do it for you,” he snapped, leaning forward. “Sholans have tempers, too, Trader. You’d do well to remember that! Sholan High Command will not be impressed that you continue to tell us half-truths. We work together, your government said, and together means you tell us everything! Now, just how difficult is it for you to get us our permits?”

  “Can be done,” said Assadou stiffly, his ears quivering with suppressed rage.

  “How quickly?”

  “Today. I send message now.”

  “Do it,” ordered Kusac, sitting back. “We’ll wait till you have a reply.”

  With a chittering sound of displeasure, Assadou gave a series of short commands in his own language to the Sumaan on his right. The guard disappeared into the inner room, emerging minutes later with a small case of writing implements. Hurriedly, Assadou scrawled a note, then dispatched him to the Keep with it and a small wooden casket.

  “Is done. We wait.”

  Carrie looked pointedly at the table. “Refreshments would be nice.”

  Again the ears quivered, then common sense got the upper hand. “Am failing in duty as host. Please, help yourselves,” he said, his tone, if not gracious, at least more normal for a Chemerian.

  Carrie got up and headed over to the dispenser unit to see what it served.

  “What are your plans once you reach Kaladar?” Assadou asked Kusac.

  He stirred in his seat. “Rescue our people.”

  “What of the Valtegans?” Assadou demanded. “That is our prime reason for bringing you here at such vast risk and expense!”

  “We hope they’ll have discovered something at the crash site, but we’ll never know unless we get them safely out of Kaladar,” said Kusac smoothly.

  “Your rescue attempt. You will try nothing hazardous that will involve me, will you?” Assadou was suddenly nervous. “Where will you hide these people? How will you get them into the Port without discovery?”

  “We’re working on that now,” said Carrie, coming back with two mugs of coffee. “Didn’t know you liked this, Assadou.”

  “We’re not going to take any unnecessary risks, believe me, Assadou.”

  “I hope not,” replied the Chemerian acidly. “I value my life!”

  “As do we,” murmured Kusac, taking his mug from Carrie with a nod of thanks. “I’d like our journey to Galrayin set up as soon as possible.”

  Assadou made a gesture of assent. “I will have my crew bring the Terran trade items from the ship today. If Lord Bradogan grants you the permits, likely you will be free to journey on the next caravan leaving for there. That you can arrange at the Port Agency office by the gatehouse into the spacers town.”

  “If you continue to call them Terran goods instead of Solnian, you’re the one most likely to blow our cover,” Carrie said warningly, sipping her drink. “Remember, you’ll go down with the rest of us.”

  A look of distress passed over Assadou’s face and he squeezed his eyes shut in obvious horror. “Apologies,” he whispered. “I will not forget again. Solnian.”

  Their wait was not long. Within fifteen minutes, the Sumaan was back, bearing an invitation to meet lord Bradogan later that evening.

  As Carrie and Kusac went through the lobby on their way out, they passed a Jalnian of obvious importance seated in one of the chairs. A guard of some half a dozen armed men accompanied him.

  Carrie glanced briefly in his direction. Tall and loose-limbed, there was an implicit arrogance in the way he lounged in his chair. She could feel his gaze following them as they made their way to the exit. The hairs on the back of her neck started to prickle and she found herself anxious to leave.

  What is it? Kusac demanded, turning to her once they were outside.

  Something and nothing, she replied, shivering again. Who do you think he was?

  Probably Lord Bradogan, he sent, taking her arm and squeezing it gently. He disturbs you?

  He has a predatory look about him, she replied, comforted by the contact.

  We’ll take no chances with him, Kusac assured her.

  “Well?” asked Tirak as Giyesh slipped into the seat opposite him at the Travelers Inn. He could tell by the set of her ears that she had news.

  “The two Sholans are here now, waiting for their friends. They found another one, one we’d missed,” she said.

  “Where?”

  “In the last warehouse, checking cargo. A male. Nice looking, too. Pale colored pelt that makes his muscles stand out,” she said, smiling reminiscently.

  Tirak snorted in annoyance. “You were supposed to be …”

  “He covered our asses with his supervisor and the guards,” she added hastily. “We barged past them into the warehouse saying we’d seen a loose tarnach. That’s when we saw him.”

  “That should have been enough for them to throw the doors wide,” said Mrowbay.

  “You kept the Sholans in sight all day?” asked Tirak.

  She nodded. “They spent the morning going from ship to ship, chatting to the various crews. Even stopped at the Profit. Were asking how good the Port engineers were in maintenance. Then in the afternoon, they headed over to the workshops, spent some time there, doubled back behind the sheds and made for the end warehouse. I reckon they were looking for him all along.”

  “Do you think you could get in to speak to this male again?” asked Tirak.

  Giyesh looked aslant at him, the smile returning. “Oh, I might be able to do that. Did find out he’d not one of the staff, he’s property. Owned by Lord Bradogan.”

  “I’ve heard they buy and sell their own folk,” nodded Tirak. “No one else would want to with their record of violence. Four of them there were, I found out today from Lord Sarak’s agent. Sold by the Valtegans. Seems these Sholans know a fair bit about the Valtegans, more than we do.” He drummed his fingers on the table thoughtfully. “There’s a lot more going on than we thought. Move carefully, people. I don’t want them suspecting that we’re watching them.”

  “The Jalnians have started checking the locals at the gates,” said Mrowbay. “Making sure they’re wearing those green pendants.”

  “He wore one,” said Giyesh.

  “They’d automatically make him wear it,” said Mrowbay. “Doesn’t mean he’s susceptible to the sickness. Probably making sure he eats only Port food, too, same with the female. Be as bad for them as if one of us ran amok. Imagine the damage we’d do before they stopped us.”

  “The Solnian and her partner have arrived and are coming
over, Captain,” said Sayuk quietly.

  “After we’ve eaten, see if you can reach that male again, Giyesh,” said Tirak. “I’ll try and get our new friends to come with us tonight, visit the Haven where this Tesha female works.”

  “Tesha? Nice name,” murmured Sheeowl.

  Tirak shot her an angry look but had no time for more as the Sholan group came up to them.

  “May we join you?” asked Kusac.

  Tirak gestured to the remaining places at the table. “Help yourselves. Have you met all of my crew?”

  Conversation flowed easily throughout the meal, with the U’Churians willing to tell them more about the various goods they traded in. Jalna’s main export, apparently, was fabrics. Top of their range was one woven from a fiber so strong and light that from its description it rivaled Terran silk.

  Carrie took the small sample that Tirak handed her. “It’s unbelievably soft,” she said, rubbing it gently between her fingers. “It’s warm, almost feels alive, and so soft! This would sell well on any world.”

  “And it’s cheap to buy,” said Tirak. “Our family owns the franchise for it. We were one of the first to start trading here. My forefather was astute enough to realize that what the Jalnian peasants wear would be a luxury for the wealthy back home. Jalnian dyes are magnificent, too. There’s a luminosity about them that we just cannot duplicate. We import this jotha in a variety of different shades as well as their basic unbleached cream.”

  “I want some of this,” said Carrie, handing the sample back to him. “Is it all as fine a weave as this?”

  “It comes in many weaves,” said Sheeowl. “From so fine it’s almost invisible, to so thick you could walk on it!”

  “She exaggerates,” said Tirak. “If you’re seriously interested, I can have samples brought over for you.”

  “I’m serious,” she said. “Is your supply capable of expanding to accommodate us as well?”

  “Depends whether you wish to sell a luxury item or not.”

  This fabric could help bring in the revenues we need to be self-sufficient, Carrie sent to Kusac. Can we trade in it since we’re not in the Merchants Guild?

  We’re En’Shalla; we belong to no Guild, he replied. We need to establish ourselves and I’d rather we made our living trading in luxury goods than from the lives of our Clan. Garras has the skills we need. Yes, make a preliminary deal with him now, I’ll guide you.

  She smiled, lifting her tankard of Jalnian chocolate. “You don’t expect me to tell you that, do you? Put a contract together for me to review, with samples of the fabric and prices. I’ll look it over during the next few days and we can discuss it further.”

  Tirak raised an eyebrow. “You sound very sure.”

  “I know my market, Captain Tirak,” she said, her voice a deep purr of amusement. “What else do you buy from here?”

  “A fermented grain beverage and raw gemstones.” He dug into one of his waist pouches and brought out a clear stone with a scintillating heart the color of a lapiz. “That’s a polished one,” he added. “I keep it as a luck piece.”

  She held it up to the light, turning it first one way then another to see the colors shift.

  “It’s beautiful. What’s it called?” she asked, handing it back to him.

  “They call it the Sky Tears,” he said, returning it to his pocket.

  “Are they expensive?”

  “They value them highly here so they aren’t cheap. Worked stones are expensive, but if you buy the raw ones, you can’t be sure that they’ll polish up well.”

  Ask if they trade in green stones—like the la’quo, sent Kaid.

  Unable to hide her start of surprise, Carrie slopped some of her drink on the table. She put the tankard down and flexed her hand as if it were sore.

  “Wrist still hurting?” asked Kaid sympathetically, sending to Kusac at the same time.

  “A little,” she said then turned back to the U’Churian. “What other raw gems do you get?”

  “Is there a particular color that you’re looking for?” he asked, taking a drink of his ale.

  “Purple ones, and perhaps green,” she said. “For my own use.”

  Tirak picked up her new eating knife and handed it to her. “Nothing darker than the stone you have in this, I’m afraid,” he said regretfully. “And no green ones at all. Perhaps our native gems might interest you, but I expect Kusac has shown them to you already.”

  “Trade with U’Chur is not my province,” she said. “I’ve been given the task of seeing what I find of interest on Jalna.”

  “I heard the Jalnians also trade in drugs,” said Kaid.

  Tirak shot him a hard look. “Some ships do. I don’t.”

  Kaid shook his head. “I’m not interested myself, but this is my first trip here. I had heard rumors.”

  “Drugs from other worlds are always available on the black market. I believe the risk is too great, unless they’ve been medically researched and prepared for use by one’s own species.” He turned to look at Carrie. “A warning for you. Don’t be tempted to buy any consumable goods from Jalna. Their land is poison as far as any non-Jalnian is concerned. And the poison goes into everything they eat and drink, drugs included,” he added, glancing briefly at Kaid.

  “Poisoned?” asked Kusac. “In what way?”

  Tirak shrugged. “I’m no scientist. It’s enough that we know it.”

  “You eat food here. Why it not affect you?” asked T’Chebbi.

  “The food in the traders’ town is either imported by spacers like us, or comes from the estates of Lord Tarolyn. His is the only land free of it. We import food for sale to Bradogan’s allies.”

  La’quo! sent Kaid. I didn’t get chance to tell you. Jeran, the one we found, was wearing a la’quo stone as a pendant. They all wear it to prevent the madness, he says.

  Kusac’s wrist comm buzzed a warning. He looked apologetically at Tirak. “We have to go,” he said. “An appointment with Lord Bradogan.”

  Tirak nodded. “A pity. I had hoped you’d join us tonight. We might even find a diversion to suit the Solnian’s taste.” He grinned, showing a mouthful of teeth that rivaled Kusac’s.

  “I think not,” said Carrie. “We’ve work to do. You know how it is with these Chemerians—they work you every hour the Gods send.”

  Tirak nodded in agreement. “Another time. Will you go to the Meeting Point tomorrow?”

  “We’ll be there at some point,” said Kusac as he got to his feet. “Enjoy your evening.”

  As they all threaded their way out, Kusac sent to Kaid. You found one? Jeran? Where?

  At the last warehouse. He’s an engineer. We stopped at the ship before coming here. Kishasayzar is going to request him to fix our life-support systems. Jeran told us all Port workers wear talismans to ward off the madness.

  And are the talismans la’quo stones? sent Carrie.

  Definitely. I touched it to make sure.

  You shouldn’t have taken such a risk, sent Kusac as they emerged out into the Jalnian night. You know it affects you badly.

  Only way to be positive.

  They moved in close to the wall, stopping for a moment to talk.

  “When he took his talisman off, Kusac, he could hear me mind-speak,” said Kaid. “He said Miroshi spoke to him like that, so he’s obviously got some sensitivity. I told him to keep the talisman off whenever he could so we could reach him.”

  Kusac nodded. “You think the la’quo is responsible for this poisoning of the soil?”

  Kaid nodded. “I’m sure. They use the stone to calm themselves, prevent the violence, just as the Valtegans used it on us in the past. And you can’t have the stones without the plant having been grown here at some point.”

  “A stone for nearly everyone on Jalna,” murmured Carrie. “That’s one hell of a lot of plants.”

  “Isn’t it?” said Kaid.

  “Is big step from what you say stone does to the plant causing violence,” pointed out T’Chebbi. “
Only know it calms you, no more. Something else involved here.”

  “We know more. We know the la’quo in various forms affects the Chemerians, us, the Valtegans and the Jalnians—it bridges species differences,” said Kaid. “And we know the soil has been poisoned.”

  “And that the Valtegans visit occasionally to take soil and plant samples,” said Carrie. “It all points to the plant and the Valtegans being responsible for whatever has polluted the soil, and the Valtegans know about it.”

  “Lots of plants,” said T’Chebbi. “So many stones, perhaps use Jalna to grow this plant like a farm.”

  “What?” Kaid turned to look at her.

  “They farm plant on Jalna,” she repeated. “So many alien plants that it puts alien chemicals in soil, pollutes it.”

  “And through the soil, as Tirak said, it gets into everything,” said Kusac. “A hallucinogenic plant. No wonder the people on Jalna are violent.”

  “Something else,” said Carrie, her tone somber. “It suppresses telepathy. That’s why we can’t reach our people. They’ve been eating the local food for over six months. The Gods know what else it’s done to them!”

  Kusac glanced at his wrist unit. “We have to go. We’re supposed to be at the Keep to meet Assadou now. We’ve got an interview with Bradogan, hopefully to get our permits. You and T’Chebbi see if you can find Strick and make contact with him. We’ll meet you back at the inn when we’re through. Take care.”

  Kaid nodded.

  “So they’re looking for these green stones, eh?” muttered Tirak, swirling the dregs of his ale around in his tankard. “Mrowbay, you keep an eye on our two Sholans tonight. Sheeowl, you follow the other pair to the Keep. Giyesh …”

  “With pleasure, Captain,” she purred, stretching as she got to her feet. “Nayash, I could do with your help to locate him. Rather have some backup if I’m wandering around the Port at night.”

  Tirak watched them disperse thoughtfully. “I wonder what they’re up to at the Keep at this time of night?” He looked up at Mrowbay and Manesh. “You go and see if you can find out who bought the other two. I think I’ll pay another visit to Tesha, see if she’ll talk to me this time.”