One Trade Too Many

by D. A. Boulter

  Doreen smiled. “She’s mad at you, Mr Telford. What did you say to her?”

  “Nothing particularly nice. I wanted her mad.”

  Sean grinned. “You got your wish. And we – on her behalf – are outraged by your behaviour.”

  Doreen sighed. “But you’re a paying customer, so we can’t really tell you off too harshly.” Her eyes twinkled, and Telford felt his insides doing something. When Doreen McTavish turned on the charm, the comatose would return to life. “However, you’re a bad, bad boy, Mr Telford.”

  “I can accept that,” Telford said, though the words stung slightly. He had spent years trying to make up for the man he had been, to live up to some forgotten clerk’s mistake when she called him ‘a good man’ just before he intended to – and did – commit murder. Even though he knew that Doreen only made a joke that no one would take seriously in the least, that no one would care about if she had aimed it at them, it still bothered him. He looked deeper. It bothered him because she had not aimed it at someone else, and it had found a target that she hadn’t realized had baggage behind it.

  CHAPTER 10

  Blue Powder

  Ms Pendleton gave Telford a wide berth all the way to Pelgraff. And no one else made any attempt to enter a forbidden area, or to obtain any information from the crew.

  Telford looked to his screen at the beep.

  “You, too?” Pelburn asked, having also received an alert.

  “Meeting with the captain in one hour,” Telford confirmed. He and Pelburn collected all the relevant files, and downloaded them to their readers in preparation. Then, they walked to the conference room.

  “Come on in,” Colleen said, and Telford felt his stomach do its usual little jump when she spoke to him. “Clay and the rest will be here in a minute. Take a seat.”

  He and Pelburn sat, and Telford concentrated on his reader. If he looked at Colleen, something might give away the secret he’d kept for fourteen long years. Finally, Minda Yrden walked in, followed by Clay and Sean Williams. That gave him somewhere else to focus his attention. The others straggled in over the next two minutes.

  “Everyone’s here? Good,” Clay said.

  “Okay, lets go through the security aspects of this first. Mr Pelburn, one of your people will accompany each shuttle and will stand guard along with an auxiliary guard from the crew. No goods go on the shuttle without being inspected. We’ll need to drop an inspection team from Cargo to the planet. Another will check the goods as they arrive.”

  “Do you really think we have anything to fear on Pelgraff?” Jackson Pelburn asked.

  Colleen smiled. “No. We believe that Pelgraff is the safest port on our itinerary. That makes it a good spot to practice our procedures.”

  “Exactly,” Clay said. “What do you have for us?”

  Jackson fed the security files through to the conference table, and all present looked them over. Then came the turn of Cargo, Trade, and finally the Purser.

  An hour later, Clay dismissed them – all except Security and Sean.

  “Anything to report on Mary Pendleton, Sean?” Clay asked.

  “Nothing of any importance, Captain. Outside of not being able to mask a dislike for the Yrdens, she just seems a lonely woman.”

  Telford looked up at that. “And any idea as to why she dislikes this Family in particular?”

  Sean nodded. “It seems that she inherited the dislike from her husband. Apparently, a competitor stole a march on the Pendletons some time ago by travelling with the Yrdens. It cost Pendleton Enterprises a lot of money.”

  “Then why book with us?” Colleen asked, forehead furrowed.

  Sean gave a small laugh. “Mr Pendleton made his money – and kept it – by dint of practicing frugality. Mary’s so used to comparing prices to get the best deal – and catching hell when she didn’t – that she automatically booked with us because we provided the best value for the money. I think she regrets it now.”

  Clay shook his head, and sighed. “Perhaps you might suggest to her that she ask for a pro-rated refund – which we will gladly give her – and then book with another Family at the next port of call.”

  Sean nodded. “We can do that. However, the next port of call is Pelgraff, and we’re the only Family that stops there.”

  Clay rose from the table. “And after that is Yamato.”

  “She’d have to spend some time on their station,” Colleen said, looking at their schedule. “The next two FTL ships have New Brittain as their next port of call, and she likely won’t want to backtrack – at least not this soon.”

  She continued to look.

  “It doesn’t look good until, perhaps Daiovan.”

  Clay nodded. “Daiovan’s a Pagayan station. She might like that – as a tourist – though I doubt she’d want to travel on a Pagayan ship. However, the Paxtons and Treverstons have offices there – though I don’t know how often their ships stop by. Suggest it to her, nonetheless.”

  “She might not even want to go on station,” Sean said. “She doesn’t much like Pagayans. Thinks that they are beasts – like the old Earth gorillas that they resemble.”

  Clay threw up his hands in surrender.

  Telford smothered a laugh, which came out as a snort. “Perhaps the Paxtons or Treverstons will have a ship there when we arrive and she can just tranship. Given the Paxton’s love for the Yrden Family, I’m sure they’d enjoy stealing a paying customer from us.”

  He rose, and Pelburn followed him up.

  “Anything else, Captain?” Pelburn asked.

  “No, nothing. I think we’ve covered most of it.”

  Telford and Pelburn left, walking together.

  “Well, Adrian, I guess you’d better go back to playing tourist. Have you thought of how you’ll explain dropping to Pelgraff?” Pelburn asked.

  “Yeah. I’m doing business with Tro Vremen. Pelgraff is important to my company, Jackson, which is why I’m travelling with the Yrdens.” He shook his head. “I don’t much like this.”

  Pelburn grinned at him. “Well, at least Ms Pendleton won’t be going down. Imagine her mixing with all those ‘gorillas’.”

  Telford laughed out loud. “Yeah. I guess I have it made, there. Pelgraff isn’t one of the hot spots where passengers want to visit the planet. They’re a little short on tourist attractions.”

  “I don’t know. The Pagayans, themselves constitute an attraction for a lot of passengers.”

  * * *

  Sitting in the acceleration lounge, Telford grimaced to himself as Mary Pendleton sat down beside him.

  “Hello, Mr Telford.”

  He looked up from his reader. “Ms Pendleton.”

  He returned his attention to the reader, hoping she’d take the hint. She didn’t.

  “I guess you’ll have time to enjoy the ship’s facilities while we’re at Pelgraff. Even you must take a break sometime, and it’s still weeks until the next station.”

  “I have business on Pelgraff, Ms Pendleton. I shall find it necessary to drop to the surface to conduct it.”

  “Oh.” She sounded disappointed. Could she really be trolling for a man to spend some ship-time with? And, if so, had she really chosen him as most likely candidate?

  He studied his reader with even more apparent concentration, but he heard her next words and his gut did a little flip – and not the good kind.

  “Perhaps I’ll go down, too.”

  Telford squeezed his eyes shut. “Lots of Pagayans down there,” he said.

  “I’ve heard that they are a gentle ‘people’. Civilized. Have you ever met one?”

  The announcement to prepare for drop sounded.

  “Yes, I’ve met several. As I said, I do business with them.”

  “And that’s why you travel with the Yrdens, I suspect. Are they really more than mere animals?”

  Telford wished she’d just shut up and leave him alone. “Who? The Yrdens or the Pagayans.”

  She laughed, and put her hand on his arm. �
�Why the Pagayans, of course. Though you’re right in asking. Captain Yrden behaved positively beastly towards me.”

  “Yes, they are a civilized people. Not animals. Tro Vremen, with whom I deal, is a very intelligent person. Now, I have to study for my meeting, Ms Pendleton.”

  She removed her hand, and looked forward, out to the swirling greys of hyperspace. The two-minute warning came. She turned her head to look at him, then looked away. She turned her head again.

  “What is it, now, Ms Pendleton?” he asked, deliberately sounding annoyed.

  She looked pensive. “I wonder if you’d hold my hand when we drop.”

  He looked up, stunned. “That’s a superst—”

  “I know,” she interrupted, sounding a little annoyed herself. “But I have heard that it increases the feeling. Others I’ve asked looked at me like ... well, I’d rather not say how they looked at me, what they appeared to think. But I thought you – being as far from a romantic as I’ve ever seen – might indulge me in this experiment.”

  He still hadn’t recovered from the original request. “Experiment?”

  She shook her head, apparently vexed. “To see if it’s true; to see if it increases the feeling.”

  “It’s true,” he stated.

  Her eyebrows went up. “You’ve done it?”

  “Once. Many years ago. And that’s how I know it’s merely superstition.”

  She looked ready to ask about it, but the thought of Gella Thompson and her reaction to the man he had been must have lent his expression something that gave her pause. She closed her mouth without speaking. Then she reconsidered.

  “If I promise to not bother you again before we reach Pelgraff?”

  He sighed, and reluctantly held out his hand. “That time wasn’t my idea, either,” he said, wondering if this were just another ploy, or if he could accept the request at face value.

  Her hand grasped his just moments before the ship dropped. He heard Ms Pendleton gasp, and felt the augmented euphoria rush through him, just as he had remembered it. He couldn’t, though, recall Gella’s features. That bothered him, and he didn’t feel it as Ms Pendleton removed her hand.

  “Bad memories?”

  He jerked himself back to the present, and his eyes snapped to her face. “I thought we had a deal,” he said.

  She nodded. “So we do. Thank you, Mr Telford.”

  She spun her chair to face the front in preparation for the burn. Telford did the same, and concentrated on his reader – in case anyone else had it in mind to observe him.

  After the burn, he stood quickly and exited the lounge, heading for his room and a little sleep before they reached Pelgraff. There, Blue Powder would act as the station, and her shuttles would take goods to – and raise them from – the surface.

  * * *

  “Pelgraff’s shuttle is ready to go,” Clay told Colleen. “The Cargo master loaded the new processing unit in its hold back at New France, and filled the rest of its hold with their stuff today.”

  Colleen already knew all that. She had helped in the loading.

  “I’ll take her down, Clay,” she told him. “You bring the children in the passenger shuttle.”

  “You’ll ride as a passenger if you go in this one,” Clay countered. “I’m giving it to Lucy and Talbot. After all, it’s going to be their shuttle – they’re staying here with it – so they get to take her down.”

  Colleen pouted for show, but recognized the logic of that, and saw the two shuttle pilots grinning at each other. “Well, let’s get on with it.”

  The three of them boarded the shuttle, and everyone else evacuated the shuttle bay. Colleen watched as the two pilots went through their checklist, and then contacted the bridge.

  “Pelgraff Shuttle One ready for launch.”

  Clay’s voice came back. “Roger that. Doors opening. Gently this first time.”

  The ship pushed the shuttle into space, and Lucy Yrden swung it about. They did a very slow acceleration away from Blue Powder.

  Colleen ached to take control, but just sat watching the NavTank. The shuttle orbited the planet twice as the two pilots made minor adjustments, more to get a feel for the ship than anything else. Then came the breaking burn which sent them into the atmosphere.

  “Eighty thousand metres and everything looking good,” Lucy said. The turbulence came and then went. “Twenty thousand metres.”

  Ed Talbot watched carefully. Colleen could see how he ached to take over the shuttle, just as she did. But he remained silent as Lucy brought the vessel down across the flat fields, now filled with grain, across the orchards, filled with fruit, across the hectares of cindra berry bushes, and on towards the city rising in the distance. She saw the makeshift spaceport/airport, and the shuttle headed towards it and the landing pad. It settled with barely a bump.

  “Good work,” Talbot said.

  “You get her next time. She flies like a true lady – nary a problem.”

  Colleen could hear the excitement, the joy in her voice, and wondered if others heard it in hers when she brought a shuttle down or lifted it. Something about the action spoke of freedom to her.

  With the hull cool, the pilots brought the flight deck to standby. Talbot turned in his seat.

  “Ready to debark, Ms Yrden.”

  “Thank you, Talbot. Let’s go see our friends.”

  Tro Vremen waited without, a huge Pagayan with black fur. She smiled in greeting, then held out her hands, which he took in friendship. “What do you think of her?” she asked, indicating the vessel they had arrived in.

  Tro Vremen looked at the huge shuttle. “It seems a little large for Blue Powder, Tra Yrden.”

  She bowed, formally. “This is for Pelgraff. She can carry triple the payload that one of Blue Powder’s shuttles can. We’re leaving two pilots, maintenance crew and spares.”

  Tro Vremen’s eyes gleamed. “That’s wonderful! And we can use her to carry needed goods to some of the smaller towns that have not received rail as of yet.”

  Colleen nodded. “Exactly.”

  She led him to the shuttle’s cargo bay, and its ramp came down. Tro Vremen looked inside. “Another processor!” He shook his massive head. “You Yrdens do us too much honour.”

  “Nonsense. Pelgraff serves us well. It gives us an advantage over our competitors.” She laughed. “If only they knew.”

  Other Pagayans and humans approached. Before they got within earshot, Tro Vremen asked, “And you intend to hold a monopoly? You intend that you should remain the only source we have for outside supplies? Few Pagayan ships come this way, and certainly not on a regular basis.”

  Colleen’s smile faded. “Never. Fair Trade is the Yrden Motto. Any time you feel you can do better with another Family – do so. Our ships will even take your messages asking for trade, and pass them to all stations and Families.”

  “Will you?”

  Her smile returned. “Actually, we’ve already done so. We did it about a year ago when we realized that you could produce more than our ships could use.” She nodded at his raised brow ridge. “How many other Family ships have taken advantage of the opportunity?”

  “None.”

  “As I said, ‘If only they knew.’”

  “Ms Yrden, the next flight’s on its way down,” Talbot said, coming around the shuttle.

  “Clay, with the children and tourists,” Colleen told Tro Vremen. She then led him away while the ground crews began to unload the shuttle. The forklift pulled out the large processor and placed it on the flatbed truck waiting for it and other crates.

  “I need a favour, Tro Vremen.”

  “Ask and, if possible, I shall grant it.” He sounded wary.

  She laughed, delighted with his tone, for she knew he but teased her. “It’s very possible. Mr Telford will land on this shuttle. We’re carrying him as a businessman with interests here on Pelgraff.” She quickly explained the situation, and his brow ridge came down in consternation.

  “So,” she co
ncluded, “you are his business contact here. If you would simply act the part, we’d appreciate it. Take him into Grensel with you as if you were discussing business.”

  Tro Vremen watched Clay’s shuttle land. “What you say disturbs me greatly, Tra Yrden. That any should trouble your Family such brings only dishonour to them. Yes, I will speak with Mr Telford, and we will cooperate most fully.”

  She put her hand on his forearm. “Thank you, Tro Vremen. Your concern does you honour. And please disregard our precautions when we load what you have packed. We do it for practice, not because we distrust what we receive here.”

  Clay’s shuttle landed as lightly as had her own.

  “We have tourists aboard, as well,” Colleen said. “Perhaps some of them might carry word to other worlds, and you may gain in trade.”

  Together, they walked to Clay’s shuttle. At the small warehouse, a hoverbus pulled up to take all interested parties back to Grensel for the duration of Blue Powder’s stay above the planet.

  “Tro Yrden,” Tro Vremen greeted Clay as he stepped down from his shuttle. “Good to see you once again.”

  “And you Tro Vremen.” Clay took his hands in friendship as the passengers filed off the shuttle.

  “Ah, Mr Telford,” Tro Vremen spoke loudly. “We have eagerly awaited your arrival. Perhaps you could accompany me to my offices where we can discuss business.”

  Telford also took Tro Vremen’s hands in friendship. “Thank you, Tro Vremen. But, before we leave, I’d like to introduce you to Ms Mary Pendleton. For a long time now, she has eagerly awaited her first meeting with a Pagayan.”

  Colleen saw Clay turn away, desperately trying to contain his laughter. Ms Pendleton’s eyes went wide as Tro Vremen’s massive hands extended, palms up, for her to place her own on. Telford looked over her to Colleen, and winked. Colleen, for her part, caught Ms Pendleton’s eye, and mimed placing her hands palms down on Tro Vremen’s. No part of Yrden policy encouraged employees to cause a paying passenger discomfort, nor to embarrass her when they could avoid that – not even a Mary Pendleton. She gave a short, sharp nod.