One Trade Too Many

by D. A. Boulter

  He had let something show through. “It isn’t fair to you,” he said, covering up. “I’m here maybe two or three times a year for a few days.”

  “I’m not asking for anything more.” She came over to him and hugged him.

  “Person like you deserves more,” he replied, wondering how he could escape the hug without insulting her. In the end he just accepted it, releasing her when he felt her grip loosening.

  She looked up at him from all-to-close a range. “And a person like you doesn’t?”

  No, a person like him didn’t. Even fourteen years of walking the straight-and-narrow, doing the best he could, didn’t atone for what had come earlier. A person like him deserved nothing. But he wanted. Oh, how he wanted. And the fates denied him anything other than a slim possibility. He took that possibility and held it close to him. And waited.

  “They’ll be waiting for me,” he said softly, reaching a hand up to brush an errant lock away from her face. “Think of something for us to do this afternoon.”

  He stopped at the door, turned, gave her one last look – up and down – and smiled. “Better get dressed. We’ll eat out when I get back.”

  He focussed on his job on the way out to the launch site, where he found Jackson already hard at work, teaching his new minions the proper way to inspect incoming goods.

  “Morning, Mr Pelburn,” Telford said.

  “Morning, Mr Telford. I didn’t expect you today.” He turned and indicated the new inspectors. “They’re slowly getting the hang of it.”

  “Good. What are you loading?”

  “One hundred thousand litres of cindra berry juice in two-litre containers.”

  Telford chuckled as Pelburn made a face.

  “Yeah,” he agreed, “vile stuff.”

  Each case of the “vile stuff” went through the portable scanners before being loaded onto Pelgraff’s new shuttle or one of the two Blue Powder shuttles that stood on the landing field.

  Telford observed the checking procedure for a while, giving some pointers to those whom he found wanting, while Pelburn did the main job. At the end of three hours, he felt he had done his share.

  “I’m going back into town, Mr Pelburn,” he said, while everyone took a short rest. “I’ll see you again tomorrow evening.”

  “Thanks.” Then Pelburn turned quickly, his attention caught by a wave from the control tower. “They seem to want me.”

  Telford wanted to leave, but walked with Pelburn to the tower despite that. He felt his stomach beginning to tense. No one ever ‘wanted’ Security on Pelgraff.

  “We’ve got one of Night Sky’s shuttles coming in,” the tower operator told them when they entered. “We’ve contacted the Yrdens, and they are on the way out.”

  Pelburn and Telford exchanged glances, and then stepped out onto the observation platform.

  “Night Sky isn’t due here for a month or more,” Pelburn said quietly. “I wonder if it has anything to do with what happened to Starfield.”

  They waited, watching. A shining object appeared high overhead, and then the roar of rockets came to them as it braked.

  “They’re in a hurry,” Telford murmured. He looked back towards Grensel and saw a transport speeding their way. “And here come the Yrdens. We’d best go down to meet them.”

  * * *

  The Yrdens arrived only moments before the shuttle.

  “Why would Night Sky send their scout to us?” Colleen asked, as the transport neared the port.

  “I don’t know. You heard what I heard. Helen wouldn’t say over the comm. But I think she appeared more excited than worried, wouldn’t you say?”

  Colleen shook her head. “She’s your sister, not mine. I don’t know her well enough to tell. To me, she just looked poker-faced.”

  Clay laughed as the transport came to a stop. “Well, she looked excited to me – in a restrained sort of way. Look, there’s Mr Telford. Now, Telford, he looks worried.”

  “Concerned, I’d say.”

  “Mr Yrden, Ms Yrden,” Telford greeted them as they exited the transport. “We hear that Night Sky has a shuttle about to land. Do you know why she’s here?”

  “It’s one of our shuttles, Mr Telford,” Clay said.

  “Tower says it belongs to Night Sky.”

  “Did they?” Clay began walking towards the tower, dragging the rest of them with him. “Night Sky sent her scout to us. My sister transferred to Blue Powder, and is coming down with one of our shuttles. Waste of fuel to bring a scout down just for one person. Everyone here’s familiar with Helen; perhaps they just made an assumption when she spoke to them.”

  They heard the roar of the shuttle on final approach, and all turned to watch it make a soft landing.

  Telford shook his head. “They sent their cargo master?”

  Colleen shrugged, agreeing with his assessment. It did seem strange. “She’s Family,” she offered.

  “You have other Family on Night Sky, and a cargo master seems an unlikely choice.”

  “Let us go and meet her,” Clay suggested, walking in through the gate next to the tower. “Perhaps she will tell us.”

  The cargo handlers loading Pelgraff’s shuttle returned to work after watching the other shuttle land. Clay led the way to Shuttle-4. As they approached, the hatch opened and Helen Yrden stepped out. She had the characteristic straight black hair of this branch of the Yrden Family, slim and tall, and had a welcoming smile on her face.

  She calmly walked to meet them, and greeted Clay with a hug.

  “Good to see you, Brother.”

  “And you,” Clay said, hugging her back. “What brings you here without your ship? I have to tell you that we have an able cargo master already – unless you’ve done away with him.”

  Helen released him. “So, to business then, is it? Very well, I’ll want to speak to you and Colleen in private. Let’s go into the shuttle.”

  But before she turned, she noticed the inspections going on at the other shuttles. Her eyebrows rose. “And perhaps you might enlighten me as to that.”

  Colleen tensed. “You haven’t heard from Family?”

  “Nothing that would have me inspecting goods from Pelgraff so thoroughly. So, tell me.”

  “Inside,” Clay said. “Colleen, Mr Telford, with me. We’ll get this out of the way first – unless your news represents something urgent.”

  “Not this-minute urgent.” Helen pressed her lips together, took another look at the inspections, and then boarded the shuttle.

  “Well, what is it?” she asked once they had closed the door to the passenger compartment.

  “It started with Starfield,” Clay began.

  Colleen watched as Helen’s expression went from horrified to grim to angry. She didn’t blame the woman at all. She had felt exactly the same way – and still felt the anger.

  “Mr Telford, please outline the precautions we have taken – are taking.”

  Telford took over and Helen nodded with each point. He ended with the deception that they had played on the crew with respect to espionage.

  Helen’s dark eyes smiled at that. “And I have the reason for you with me.”

  That caused the other three to stare at her. Clay nodded for her to continue.

  “You have an invite to go to Damarg space.”

  Colleen recovered first. She didn’t like the way Helen had phrased it. “The Damargs have invited the FTL to make a trip?” If so, why the rush to tell them, unless.... Of course, cindra berry juice. Word had it that the Damargs loved the stuff. And here they sat at Pelgraff, producer of the finest such juice in the Galaxy – or so many of their customers had told them.

  “No, not the FTL,” Helen said, then continued before anyone else could interrupt, “and not the Family, either. This invitation is for you two.”

  “Us?” Clay sounded surprised.

  “These two Yrdens in particular?” Telford sounded wary.

  “Correct. It comes from the Hittorsh Trading Company – a Damarg
entity. They heard about Davix Prime and wanted Jenna, but – according to Max Treverston on Daiovan Station – when told she no longer plied the stars, they accepted you two.”

  “I don’t understand,” Clay said. “Because I’m her son? You’re her daughter.”

  Telford looked like he understood only too well. “Because of Liberty?” He didn’t look happy, and the question sounded more like a statement.

  “Liberty and Erin,” Helen confirmed.

  Colleen froze at that. “Hittorsh has heard of Erin?”

  Helen shook her head sadly. “Colleen, Sister, everyone has heard of Erin. Apparently Hittorsh – and perhaps the Damargs in general – prefer to deal with people fierce of disposition.” She waved off the protest she saw coming to Clay’s face. “In any event, they want you and Blue Powder. I brought with me a list from the Damarg Trade Desk on Daiovan which outlines both acceptable and unacceptable imports. They only allowed me in and gave it to me because of the invite. You will stop at Daiovan first to register with the Damarg Desk there, and then proceed to their station at a planet they name Pallinteth. The Trade Desk will give you co-ordinates – they wouldn’t give them to me – and a protocol.”

  She handed Clay a reader open to the list. He held it so Colleen could see, and then slowly scrolled down.

  “Cindra berry juice,” she exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Helen said. “I noted that, too, and that explains my arrival. I wanted to get here before you left. Also, I’ll help where I can to organize the off-loading of cargo that they deem unacceptable. We don’t want to take a chance – even with sealed holds. You can offload at the warehouse on Daiovan, or perhaps tranship to Night Sky, depending on circumstance.”

  Clay nodded. “We might need to tranship some passengers, too.”

  Telford coughed. “You’ve already decided?”

  “You don’t sound happy, Mr Telford.”

  “Mr Yrden, I’m not.” Telford, Colleen could see, had no back-up in him, not even for Clay.

  Clay turned his palms up. “The FTL has awaited an invitation like this for years – since before we met you. We can’t let this chance slip by – for several reasons,” he said to forestall Telford’s anticipated objection.

  “We’ve wanted this, as I said, for years. We have the opportunity to open a trade route, to put the Yrden Line first. It could mean a great deal of profit. But more than that, the other Families – through Treverston – will know of this offer. If we don’t accept it, attempt to open a door that we all have desired, our stock will go down. Already other Families plot against us to remove Jenna and Tamm from heading the FTL. This would undoubtedly make that a certainty. We can’t ignore it.”

  Helen, wisely, kept out of the discussion. Colleen joined her in that endeavour.

  “Mr Yrden, you’ll be taking the crew into a potentially dangerous situation. We know nothing of the Damargs. And that they want you two specifically doesn’t make it sound better.”

  “If I may,” Helen interrupted. “Not just the two, Mr Telford. Your name came up, as well. I have that straight from Max Treverston. Apparently the Damargs dislike pirates intensely, and they have respect for those who would deal with them on a personal level.”

  Colleen could see that this did nothing to improve Telford’s mood.

  “I like it even less, now,” he said, confirming her judgement.

  “We’ll put it to the crew,” Clay said to end the objection. “Everyone, you included, will have the option of not making the trip. We can go there short-handed if need be.”

  Helen laughed. “Night Sky had its nose put out of joint. Everyone on her wishes they could be the first. Either we can swap out crew at Daiovan to replace those of yours who don’t wish to go, or we can take just you two on board and go on Night Sky. They just want the ship with you and Colleen. It doesn’t have to be Blue Powder.”

  And that ended that.

  “Now, I’ll want to go up with the next shuttle. We need to get a good look at what you may want transhipped to Night Sky. I’ll also want to return to Daiovan and my ship as quickly as possible with your ‘Captain’s Eyes’ data. We can wait for you there.” She gave Clay a long look. “This is too big to let it get out of our hands.”

  “Right,” Clay said, nodding. He stood. “You’ll go up on Pelgraff’s new shuttle. They’re almost finished loading.” He turned to Colleen. “You and the children will go up with the next one. You and Helen can get together, and look at our manifest.”

  “And you?” Colleen asked, also rising.

  “Well, first, I’ll want to see Tro Vremen, to see how fast he can double our load of cindra berry juice.”

  Colleen felt like her whole being lightened.

  “He’ll be happy.” She suddenly frowned. “But the children won’t be so happy; they wanted an excursion into the park – the forest.”

  “Okay. You go up with Helen. I’ll take them on that and – depending on how long it will take Tro Vremen to make up the shipment – you may have time to come back down and take them on another one.”

  * * *

  “You do not joke?” Tro Vremen stared intently at Clay, then his eyes returned to the screen, where he called up a file.

  “I do not joke. We want to double the order. We received an invitation to travel into Damarg space – and they seem to love cindra berry juice.”

  Tro Vremen’s brow came down. “Damargs invited you?” He scrolled down.

  “An entity called the Hittorsh Company. Do you know of them?”

  Tro Vremen’s head canted to the side. “I do not. I ask you to take care. Damargs have a reputation for xenophobia. We Pagayans met them a few centuries back. We, as yet, have only a few routes into Damarg space – and those only just across the border, to their outlying stations. No alien – that we know of – has ever seen their home planet.”

  Clay smiled. “Yes, we have received much the same information. We have a list of acceptable goods, and those not acceptable, and will follow that list in every regard.”

  Tro Vremen looked up. “I think that a wise plan to follow. And, yes, we can double the order, but unless you wish to take barrels of the juice, you will have to wait some days for packaging.” He swung the screen around.

  Clay looked down and frowned. “We’ll take it in barrels. This excursion will cause enough delay as it is. We don’t need to add to it unnecessarily.”

  The Pagayan’s lips parted in a smile. “We’ll begin shipping out to the port immediately. It seems the shuttle you brought us will get a good initiation.” He sent the order to the warehouse.

  Clay returned the smile, and accompanied Tro Vremen to the door. “I have to take the children out for a walk in the forest.” He tapped his comm. “You can reach me via this if necessary.”

  The sun still shone high overhead, and Clay squinted against the glare as he walked back to the Yrden quarters.

  “Captain Yrden?”

  He turned, and recognized Meredith Silverston, the anthropologist, approaching him. “Yes, Ms Silverston?”

  “Captain, rumour has it that you’re going to Damarg space.”

  Clay blinked. That hadn’t taken long to get around.

  “True.”

  “I would like to go with you. This may be the chance of a lifetime.” She looked up at him from short range.

  “I thought you had arrangements here on Pelgraff – a research project.”

  She laughed. “I do, but this, this opportunity may not come my way again. I can return to Pelgraff anytime.”

  “Come inside, the sun is giving me a bit of a headache.”

  Silverston followed him into the relative cool of the building.

  “I have to take my children for a walk in the forest, but I’ll be glad to discuss this with you further after I get back. I will consider your request.”

  Not to be put off, Silverston placed her hand on Clay’s forearm. “Captain Yrden, I’m good with children; I’ll accompany you, if you don’t mind.”


  Clay shrugged. He picked up the boys – and a hat to shield his eyes from the sun.

  If the lack of their mother disappointed Brian and David, they didn’t show it. They ran around trees, came back to the path, laughed and played, examined this and that.

  “I have to warn you that we don’t know what to expect, Ms Silverston. We’re going to give each and every passenger and crewmember the opportunity to change ships. If too many desire this, then my wife and I will go on another ship whose crew already wants to go.”

  Silverston remained silent for a time, then hesitantly continued. “I fear that I don’t understand, Captain Yrden. Why doesn’t this other ship go, then?”

  Clay saw no reason why she shouldn’t know. “The invitation came for my wife and me.”

  Her eyebrows went up. “Personally?”

  “Yes. And it apparently comes because of our past – where we fought with pirates and smugglers. So, our reputation as somewhat dangerous people has something to do with the invitation. And, thus, we give the opportunity to avoid making the trip.”

  “Careful,” Silverston called out, as Brian began climbing a tree.

  David looked up in frustration, too short to get to the first branch. Clay strode over, picked him up, and placed him on the thick branch. A big smile came to his face.

  “Look, ’Dith, I’m up higher than you, now,” he said as he stood, one arm around the trunk of the tree.

  Meredith Silverston smiled at him. “So you are, young man. How do things look from up there?”

  The child laughed. “Everyone looks smaller.”

  Satisfied with his height, David simply looked out over his new kingdom, while Brian climbed several branches higher, ending up about five metres above the ground.

  “Anthropology isn’t the safest profession known to humankind, Captain Yrden. I’d prefer to go along if you’ll have me.” She held out her arms, and David, laughing, launched himself off the branch and into the safety of her hug.

  “Wanna do it again,” he said, still laughing.

  “I think once is enough,” Clay said.