“Not yet,” Minda replied. “But we want to be ready to go on a moment’s notice. Something has gone drastically wrong here. It may all have been a trap, because we’re absolutely clean as far as prohibited items are concerned.”
“Minda,” Brint called to her. “I have Tony Paxton and Max Treverston wanting you on the InShip.”
“Yvonne, just get ready. I have another fire to put out.”
“Hello, Max, Tony,” she said, putting a smile on her face. “What can I do for you?”
Paxton looked upset. “There’s a seal on our hold, and still no comm to the station. What’s going on? Did you have something in the hold that warrants a seal?”
“Bureaucracy, Tony,” she replied. “The hold checked out one hundred percent acceptable, and they still put a seal on it. New species, new rules. Clay and Colleen are on the station sorting it out. And we aren’t trying to steal a march on you, to answer your next question. We have no comm to the Damarg trade desk, either.”
That seemed to settle them down for the moment. What they would think if she actually had to cut and run, she hated to contemplate. The Damargs already had their crew and passenger lists, so if they ran, none of them might ever again be allowed into Damarg space. Perhaps they would end up on a trading blacklist, too.
She didn’t like the thought of that.
An hour passed with everyone on edge. No word came, and Minda began to get an acute case of nerves. What would she say to Jenna and Tamm should she have to leave their son and daughter-in-law behind? Especially when Jenna intended them to take over Head of Family from her and Tamm.
She called Security.
“Jackson?”
“Minda. What can I do for you?”
“You can assure me that Mr Telford isn’t contemplating anything rash.”
Jackson laughed “I’m afraid I can’t do that. He’s in a killing mood – and I mean that literally. He’ll wait – for now. I don’t want to be anywhere in the neighbourhood when he explodes, though.”
“Great. Hang on, got another call.”
“What is it, Brint?”
“Colleen for you.”
She took a deep breath, and then let it out.
“Colleen?”
Colleen’s face came on, not looking overly unhappy, but not happy either.
Minda wondered how much to say. She had to take for granted that the Damargs would be listening in. Whether any of them spoke English, she didn’t know, but wouldn’t trust to that.
“Good to see you, Minda,” Colleen said. “It looks like a bureaucratic snafu. We’ve met the representative of Hittorsh Company, a Mr Korsh, and he’s livid. He’s sent a message to his company on planet to get to the bottom of it.”
At least it didn’t sound as bad as Telford had indicated. Drawn weapons on Blue Powder?
“Can you at least tell me what it’s all about? Everyone including our two guests are waiting anxiously to find out.”
Colleen laughed, though it didn’t seem as if she found anything funny. “It’s the cindra berry juice. The Station Manager, who is a stickler for the rule book, claims that the prohibited list contains cindra berry juice.”
“What? The Pagayans ship it to Damarg space all the time. The Daiovan Trade Desk urged us to send as much as we had.”
“I know.” Colleen turned away from the vid. “Mr Korsh has arrived. Hold on a minute.”
Minda stood by, incredulous. What kind of bureaucracy did the Damargs have? One group saying one thing, the other something diametrically opposed.
“Good news, Minda,” Colleen said. She then tempered that. “Well, relatively good news. The Damargs are going to come back on board. They will supervise the removal of the cindra berry juice, which will be locked up on station pending a final decision.”
“That’s good news?”
“Yes. Once the offending cargo is off Blue Powder, you can – or rather, the Customs Inspectors will – unseal the holds. Trading can then begin. Tony Paxton, Max Treverston and you will be allowed to open offices on the Station, and meet with prospective customers and/or suppliers. You can bring samples, or run the Damargs to the ship to inspect the goods.”
“Thank the stars for that. Those two aren’t happy with the way this has started. What about you?”
“We’re basically under house arrest – in Hittorsh Company quarters – until this foul-up gets straightened out. We’ll be trading from here, and we are not allowed back on the ship. We’ll need someone to look after Brian and David.”
Minda saw pain in Colleen’s face at that last. “I’ll send in Aunt Doreen for now, Cousin. Tell Clay not to worry. We won’t break his ship while he’s gone.”
And Colleen had the grace to laugh.
“Are you restricted on the comm?”
“No. Until a decision is made, we’re under the care of Mr Korsh and can access the comm whenever we wish.”
“Good. Let me sign off for now. Customs is calling. While I’m dealing with them, please contact Mr Telford and ask him to relax.”
Customs, in the form of Inspector Bortart arrived – this time without guards. He and his partner went straight to Hold Number 4, escorted by Jackson Pelburn, where they met Gerard Yrden.
Minda left the bridge, and went to seek out Treverston and Paxton. She should, she thought, explain to them in person.
“Cindra berry juice?” Treverston blurted out. “That’s insane. It topped the Damarg’s want list for comestables.”
“Colleen says the Station Manager is a by-the-rules type. If his list came in with cindra berries on the prohibited list, he just assumed that his regime had changed policy. He’s not the type to ask questions. And that’s a caution for us all.”
“And Clay and Colleen are under house arrest?” Paxton asked. “That’s outrageous.”
“Their space; their rules,” Minda said. Paxton’s outrage on Yrden’s behalf impressed her. “I’m sure they’ll come out of it okay. However, we should prepare to relocate over to the Station. Make contacts, trade, all that sort of good stuff. As soon as they unseal the holds, we can gather our sample cases.”
Together, they went down to Hold Number One where they had stored their sample cases. Several minutes later, Inspector Bortart arrived and unsealed the hold.
“You may now trade,” he stated.
“Thank you, Inspector,” Minda replied. “Mr Pelburn will escort you back to your shuttle.”
Gerard and his crew loaded the sample cases – including one for Clay and Colleen – onto a workboat. The traders climbed into the shuttle that Blue Powder made available for that purpose, and Sean Williams ferried them and Lucy Gelten, who would act as runner, if required, or a guard if all traders left the desk at the same time, over to Pallinteth Station.
A tall Damarg stood on the other side of the hatch, waiting for them.
“I am Korsh, of Hittorsh Trading Company,” he said to Minda. “Welcome to Pallinteth Station. I – and Hittorsh – regret the misunderstanding. We endeavour to correct this travesty.”
He grinned at Tony and Max. “My friends, you see I have learned a new word. Travesty. I heard Ms Yrden use it and I immediately looked it up. What a wonderful word.”
He extended his hand to Max and then Tony.
“I had not expected to see you, but am delighted. Come, come, let me show you to the Trade Desk and get you all set up.”
Minda introduced Korsh to Lucy and mentioned the sample case for Clay and Colleen.
“Ah but of course I will take that to them. Lucy may accompany me, if that is your wish, but I must then return her here immediately.”
“May I go instead, Mr Korsh?” Minda asked. She had her doubts about the status of her relatives. “It would ease my mind, and the minds of those still on Blue Powder.” Especially that of Mr Telford, who had wanted to accompany them. Minda had nixed that. In his frame of mind, she could think of very little more dangerous. Once she had ascertained that no coercion on the part of this Mr Korsh appli
ed, she would see about him relieving Lucy at some time.
“Of course.” He himself brought over the trolley and helped to lift the sample case onto it.
Then he aided the others.
“This way, this way,” he said, in a jovial tone that seemed out of place coming from such a harshly coloured face.
“Trade Desk,” he said, indicating a room with a multitude of booths.
Other traders sat there – mostly Damargs, but with at least one Pagayan – screens lit. Minda caught a peek at one screen and realized it showed Blue Powder’s manifest. So, they might meet the other traders directly. She would have to hurry before Paxton and Treverston made all the first contacts.
CHAPTER 16
Pallinteth Station, Damarg Space
“Minda!” Colleen greeted her friend joyfully.
“Colleen.” Minda’s worried look turned into a smile of relief.
They hugged, and then slipped out of the way as Korsh brought in the sample case. He excused himself, giving them time together without his presence, which Colleen thought very decent of him.
“Where’s Clay?”
“Here,” came a voice from another room. Clay walked out. “Good to see you. How is everything back on Blue Powder?”
“Outside of a very touchy Mr Telford, good. Can I bring him good news?”
Colleen realized that Minda looked for a code word that would indicate that they acted under duress. She smiled.
“Mr Korsh has provided for our every need. He insists that his company will clear up the mess. Tell Mr Telford that although we miss his presence, we expect to find ourselves very busy.”
“But we keep you from your own trade,” Clay said.
Minda, not receiving any code, brightened. “You’re fine.”
“Yes,” Colleen replied. “Fine. Now that we have our sample case, we’re more than fine. Mr Korsh has promised us a location where we may trade, also.”
Korsh appeared as if speaking his name had conjured him. “Shall I return you to Trade Desk, Minda Yrden?”
“Yes, thank you, Mr Korsh.”
When he returned from escorting Minda back to Trade Desk, he gathered the two up and brought them into the common room.
“It bothers me that we have treated you so poorly,” Korsh said. “I would like to atone for that. First, however, have you contacted your ship?”
“Thank you, Mr Korsh,” Clay said. “Yes, we have, and everyone feels much better about the whole episode. I understand that you’ve an area we can go to in order to begin our trading?”
“Correct. As you must remain with me until we get that foolishness settled, perhaps you could have your crew prepare a kit for you: clothes, toiletries, that sort of thing.” He turned his palms up in a very human gesture. Was the gesture pan-species, or had he learned it from someone – or from files? “Of course, the authorities will inspect the kits, but they will find nothing as I doubt your shipmates would put you in danger.”
Colleen smiled. “Thank you, Mr Korsh. I would indeed like a ‘kit’ brought to me. Can we relay that message to our ship now?”
“Certainly. And then I have something to ask you.”
“Ask now,” Colleen said.
“On Daiovan Station, I purchased a scarf of something called tulla wool. Might you have any for trade on your ship?”
Colleen nodded. “Not the raw wool, but various cloths made from it that your tailors may use to make clothing – or scarves, as they might so choose.”
“Excellent. Now, let us go to the comm centre where you may contact your ship and begin your trading.”
He led them to a room in his quarters whose walls held large screens. Stations sat in the centre of the room, facing each way. “Here you may use the screens to call up the goods presently on offer – both on the station and on the planet below. You may speak with other traders. I must warn you that very, very few speak your language, and less than half will speak Pagayat. You might hire an interpreter, or I might stay by you to aid. It would give me some experience – for which my Family would be grateful.”
Clay turned on a screen and frowned at the Damargian script. He studied it a moment, then found the Pagayat link. The script reformed into a language he could read.
“We would love to have your company,” Colleen said for the two of them. “You might relate some of your culture – keep us from running afoul of custom.”
Throughout the rest of the day, they fielded questions on – or requests for – the viewing of their merchandise, and the general queries of traders merely curious about this new species.
Korsh acted without stint on their behalf, bringing traders to meet them, translating, and even setting up a tour of the station for passengers or crew from Blue Powder who wished such.
“He’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met,” Colleen told her husband. “Nothing seems to faze him – not even Mary Pendleton.”
Clay laughed out loud. “A true paragon. No wonder Tony and Max had their noses put out of joint when we received the invitation.”
“Speaking of them, I think we should make contact.”
She called up Max’s screen and put in a request.
“Max Treverston at your service,” he began in Pagayat before he noticed who called. “Colleen! Are you well?”
“Perfectly well and immersed in trades, as you appear to be. Just checking in. Can we do anything for you or Tony?”
His face opened into a great smile. “No, not me. We’re having the time of our lives, making contacts, searching out goods for trades. Hang on.” He disappeared for a moment, the returned. “No, Tony has no requests either.”
“That’s wonderful. Good Trading!”
“Good Trading, Colleen.” He cut the connection abruptly.
Colleen laughed. “They’re having fun, it appears.”
Another request popped up on their screen.
“My turn,” Clay said, and opened communications with yet another Damarg who only wanted to see if humans really existed.
After two more days of intensive trading, Clay noticed that Colleen no longer seemed as outgoing as usual.
“What’s bothering you?” he asked.
“It’s the children. They can’t understand what’s going on – especially not David.”
“We must remain patient.”
At that moment, Korsh walked in. He had a pensive look on his face – or at least that’s how Clay interpreted it. “I overheard. Who is this David?”
“He’s our younger son,” Colleen told him.
“Oh? I had not realized that you had children on board your ship. Is this the right of the Captain, only?”
Clay shook his head, a gesture that the Damarg understood. “No, we’re a Family ship. Many have their children aboard. We have two, Brian, who has attained the age of thirteen standard human years, and David, who just recently had his sixth birthday. They don’t understand why we have not returned to the ship.”
“We must remedy that at once,” Korsh said, a mixture of outrage and embarrassment tingeing his words.
“How?” asked Colleen.
“They will come aboard the station. I have plenty of room for them, as you have seen. They will have much they can do and see, and know that they can call on you at any time. If you wish to bring a minder for while you work, we will find room for that person, too.”
Korsh consulted a screen, then looked to Colleen who appeared a little doubtful. Clay, too, wondered at the advisability of giving the Damargs more hostages.
“And those three may return to your ship at any time – or, if you prefer, you can have one of your pilots ferry them back and forth as you see fit. I shall arrange it with the Station Manager at once.”
And he immediately left to do so. Colleen had tears in her eyes, which she wiped away. Clay hugged her.
“See. It will all turn out well. We should have asked about this earlier.”
Korsh returned.
“So. Done. You can ferry t
hem over any time you wish. We will have someone there to meet them and escort them to you – or to your rooms, whichever you prefer. Unfortunately, with the custody order in effect, you two cannot go to meet them at the docking station.” He shook his head in disgust. “The authorities might think you intended to escape.”
“Thank you, Mr Korsh,” Colleen said. Then she gave a slight laugh. “It seems that we are continually thanking you. I wish we could do something for you in return.”
Korsh nodded, looking quite thoughtful. “Actually, there is.”
Clay turned his attention back from the comm, where he had just given orders to ferry his children and an attendant over – the attendant, in this case, being Mr Telford. He wanted to lay the bodyguard’s fears to rest. They would keep the children with them, and Mr Telford could return to Blue Powder, appeased.
“And what might that be?”
“I must attend a dinner tonight. If you and your family would join me, I would greatly appreciate it.” He laughed. “You would be on display as ‘The Humans’. I would get – what is the human term? – points. Yes, I would get points for bringing you.”
Colleen gave him an amused look. “We’d be on display?”
“You would be honoured guests. But, as few Damargs have ever met humans, yes, you would be on display. On the other hand, as few humans have ever met Damargs, they, too, would feel that they were on display.”
Clay laughed. “Seems a fair trade – and that’s our Family motto: Fair Trade.” He hesitated. “About the food?”
“Fear not. It will be vegetarian in fare. The human digestive system will have no trouble with it. I have made a study. When I voyaged on your ships, I took samples and compared them.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I, too, felt uneasy about the food.”
“You’ve travelled on human ships?”
“Yes, not long, a few of your weeks. My family, you see. They want me to gain knowledge of the wider galaxy – and that now includes Human as well as Pagayan space.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “I fear that they want me to take a longer trip – to study the humans more closely so we can more knowledgeably engage in trade with them. This is not something I really wish to do, but a Damarg in my station must obey.”
One Trade Too Many Page 13
