Colleen gave Clay a look.
“But this is my problem. Your problem is to decide whether or not you would like to meet a Damarg family for dinner.”
“We’d love to,” Colleen said.
“Excellent. I shall inform them that you have accepted.”
CHAPTER 17
Pallinteth Station
Colleen’s eyebrows went up when she saw the ‘minder’ chosen to look after Brian and David while she and Clay worked.
“How nice to see you, Adrian,” Colleen said as a guide deposited him and the children into the Hittorsh Company rooms.
“Ms Yrden. All goes well?”
“Outside of the ongoing problem of ‘house arrest’, yes. Trading goes well; we’ve made several important contacts, and we’ve been invited out to dinner.”
At that last Telford’s face became a study in expressionlessness. Colleen ignored it, and knelt down to receive the hugs of her two children, who demanded to know why she hadn’t come back to their rooms for the past couple of nights.
“Well, we need to work sometimes,” Colleen explained. “But we missed you two so much that we decided to bring you to work, too.”
Brian stared at her. “We have to work?”
“Yes,” Colleen declared. “And your work is to have fun.”
She heard footsteps, and looked around to see Korsh and Clay enter the room.
“Ah, the kits,” Korsh said.
The two children stared at him, eyes wide. Colleen hoped that the Damarg wouldn’t find this an insult.
To her relief, Korsh went down to his knees. “Hello. My name is Korsh. Do you have names?”
Obviously taken aback, Brian looked incredulously from Korsh to his mother and back again. David only blinked.
“Of course we have names. My name is Brian.”
“My name is David,” her younger son blurted out, still staring. “What are you?”
Colleen cringed.
“I belong to the race known as Damarg,” Korsh replied. “And what are you?”
Clay chuckled as Brian and David looked at each other in astonishment. What were they? Didn’t everyone know?
“Um, we’re humans,” Brian finally said.
“Humans,” Korsh said, confirming this with a nod of his head. Colleen noted that no other Damarg they had seen either nodded or shook their heads to indicate agreement or negation. Someone had obviously informed him of this human trait, and he had assimilated it – at least when dealing with humans.
“I have a room that I think you will like.” Korsh stood, and only then seemed to notice Adrian.
“Ah, I see the children have brought a minder. Might I have an introduction?”
“Mr Korsh,” Clay said, “this is Mr Adrian Telford.”
Korsh, his hand moving out to greet Adrian’s stopped for a second before continuing its way.
“I would not have thought you would take occupation as the minder of children,” Korsh said.
Adrian canted his head slightly to the right. “You know of me?”
“Oh yes,” Korsh said with a smile. “At my departure dinner on Daiovan Station – given to me by Tony – my uncles made mention of pirates. Tony then related stories of a place called Davix Prime and of Liberty Station. Your actions garnered much approval from my uncles.”
“And you, what do you think about it?”
Korsh deflected that. “I think that I should show my special room to the children. Come, follow me.”
The whole entourage did just that, Colleen interested in seeing just what this room offered. Her eyes widened. It did, indeed, seem a paradise for children, with many toys of various sorts. At one side of the very large room stood what humans might call a jungle gym – only it appeared vastly more intricate.
Brian and David both gasped.
“Mom, can we?”
“Go!”
They ran to investigate all the treasures the room held. Korsh then turned to Adrian.
“I, too, have nothing but admiration for your actions – all of your actions,” he said, including Clay and Colleen in that. “I also have admiration for this ploy to get you to your employers.” He gave a human-style shrug. “And I have no objections. You might, however, avoid mentioning your true occupation to any station personnel.” He laughed. “They might take exception.”
“Mind if I take a quick look around?” Adrian asked.
“No, Mr Telford, look all you want. However, I believe the traders have to return to work, and the children should not be left unattended.”
Telford took a quick glance into the trading room, the Yrden’s room and walked around the common room. Then he stationed himself with the children, leaving the door open so he could see into the common room as well. To Colleen’s surprise, when she made a check on them just before the noon meal, she saw Adrian calmly showing something to an attentive Brian, while David lay sprawled on the floor, taking a nap.
Traders coming in to see either Clay or her in person seemed to think nothing of this man watching the children. Colleen wondered what societal norms Damargs lived under. She supposed that the anthropologist would likewise desire that information.
At the lunch table, Korsh took it upon himself to act as host. The conversation ranged widely, and Colleen felt that every bit of information that he imparted gave her a better knowledge of Damarg society. She wondered if he knew that he did this, and had purposefully led the talk in the directions it took.
Whether he did or didn’t, the information would find its way back to Jenna and Tamm. She suddenly smiled. She had become a true Yrden. Information such as this would benefit the Family. Therefore, she paid close attention.
“Adrian,” she said. “Mr Korsh has invited us to dinner with friends. The children will come with us, and then spend the night. You might as well go back to Blue Powder at the end of the trading day.”
“I’d prefer to stay here, if Mr Korsh does not object.”
“Won’t Ms Pendleton miss you, Mr Telford?” Clay asked.
Adrian closed his eyes. “Yes, Mr Yrden, no doubt she will. If you insist on keeping up this deception, I had better return for supper.”
Korsh took all that in with great interest. What did he make of her using Adrian’s first name, while Clay maintained a formal demeanour?
“Might I ask what deception?” Korsh asked.
Clay looked at her, and she made the decision. “We believe that one of our competitors has placed a spy among the passengers in an attempt to gain proprietary information. Mr Telford hopes to discover this agent. As such, he plays the part of a passenger.”
Korsh nodded, again using the human mannerism. “Then I wish you success in your venture, Mr Telford.”
Adrian looked like he didn’t approve of her sharing this information. After lunch, and before they returned to trading, he mentioned it.
“Mr Korsh has organized tours for the passengers,” Colleen said, ignoring his protest.
“I know. I took the opportunity of Ms Pendleton taking such a tour to spend time on the crew deck.”
“And,” Colleen continued, “as such, he has dealings with our passengers. Better that he know that you operate under cover, and thus not make unwitting mention of your true status.”
Telford nodded. “Makes sense.”
He then returned to the children.
* * *
“So, Mr Korsh,” Colleen asked, “are you married?” She spoke in Pagayat, a language that all could understand.
The others around the small table nearly broke out laughing, and Korsh smiled at her. “Yes, Ms Yrden, I am. Did you think I had not yet attained age?”
Colleen’s face went red, and she wondered what mistake she had made.
Clay diverted attention with, “You have the same look about you that I do when Colleen is not with me and I miss her. Your wife must be far away.”
“Yes, Mr Yrden, she is, and I miss her very much. You know how it is, though, I see. At times nothing can be d
one about it.”
“Drenline!” Amselm shook her hand in disapproval as all three children ran through the room. Drenline stopped at once, and Brian and David ran into her, causing all to fall.
They began laughing, and the adults joined them.
“Drenline, there will be no more of that. Besides, it is almost time for Evening Meal.”
The children went to wash up and Entlill led the rest of them to the dining table. Large and circular, it stood in the very centre of the room. Korsh took the seat to Colleen Yrden’s right, with Drenline on his other side. Brian sat between Colleen and Clay, and David between Clay and Entlill. Amselm took the final seat next to her mate.
“Honoured guests, we welcome you to our table,” Entlill said in his own language, which Korsh translated.
“Honoured hosts, we thank you for your kindness in showing us to your table,” Korsh replied.
It seemed to Colleen a formal structure, and hoped that she and Clay would make no mistakes here.
Entlill indicated the food with an open palm. “I’m sure you will enjoy the meal. We’ve prepared some of Pallinteth’s traditional dishes, as well as some of the more exotic ones.”
Clay replied, “It will be a great experience, Entlill. The aroma is certainly enticing.”
Then everyone sat waiting. Colleen felt sure they missed something here. Were they supposed to partake before their hosts?
Korsh touched her leg under the table. She moved her hand over, and he deposited something in it, then lifted her hand, indicating that she should show all. She brought her hand above the tabletop and opened it to display three disks. The Damargs breathed a sigh of relief.
Korsh took one of the disks and gave a quick glance to Clay. She reached her hand over and he also took one.
The centrepiece of the table consisted of a rod that rose out of it, with three intricate arms extending several centimetres towards the edges of the table. At the end of those arms three flat pans waited, each about the size of one of the disks.
Korsh reached forth and placed his disk on one, pressed a little button on its side, and watched as flame rose from it. He then looked to Colleen.
She did the same, and then Clay followed suit.
“The fires are lit, the area safe,” Amselm said. “We thank you for the gift of fire.”
They would have to ask Korsh about this later. The food tasted strange, but it pleased. No one spoke during the eating of the meal. After Entlill removed the remainder of the food and their dishes, he brought juice – cindra berry – and conversation started.
“What do you wear around your neck,” Drenline asked David, pointing to the medallion he wore.
“My Great-gram gave it to me on my fifth birthday,” David said.
The Damargs went silent and stared at the little boy. Colleen looked at Clay who raised an eyebrow minutely in return.
“Great-gram?” Drenline asked. “Explain.”
David looked to Clay. Clay nodded at him to answer. “The mother of my mother’s mother.”
“And she gave it to you, herself?” Drenline looked at him as if he appeared more of an alien than she had prepared for.
“Yes.” He looked to his mother, feeling the pressure of the moment, no doubt, and wondering what he had said wrong.
Colleen rescued him. “Yes, last year when David turned five, we gave him a party at the New France station, and she presented it to him.”
All the Damargs looked to her in silence. What occasioned this?
“And your mother was there, too?” Amselm asked.
Colleen shook her had. “No, my mother died when I was very young.”
But even that didn’t seem to help.
“The Yrdens brought with them some cloth made of tulla wool,” Korsh said, changing the subject and breaking the awkward silence. “I’ve sampled this cloth. It feels wondrously smooth.” He nodded to Colleen, who opened her bag and brought out the various samples he had suggested she bring.
He passed them to Entlill, whose eyes went wide when he touched the cloth.
“Entlill performs the art of the tailor,” Korsh explained.
The discussion moved on to fabrics and trade. By the end of the visit, Entlill had promised to visit the Yrden’s trade desk and make a deal for tulla wool.
“Thank you all for such a wonderful meal, and wonderful evening,” Clay said, and received like assurances in return.
“You did well,” Korsh told them once they had returned to the Hittorsh Company rooms. “Entlill will spread the word of your manners, your kindnesses, and the well-behaved children which you carry to the stars with you.”
Clay took the children to their bedroom. While he got them ready for bed, Colleen asked. “Why did they go silent when David mentioned his gift from his great-grandmother? Did we somehow offend?”
Korsh waved that off with a negating hand. “No. Damargs only rarely live to see their great-grandchildren. So, for them, this sounded quite astonishing. Yrden reputation will only grow for it.”
Clay re-entered the room. Korsh stopped back.
“As wonderful as this night has gone, I fear I must leave you. I have business of my own, which will occupy me the rest of the day. Feel free to make this place your home.”
“Well,” Clay said, after Korsh had left. “I think the evening went well.”
“Mr Korsh agrees. I wonder how Mr Telford made out with Ms Pendleton.”
* * *
Blue Powder
Telford cursed to himself as Mary Pendleton took the chair next to his at the dining table. With three Yrdens busy trading on Pallinteth Station, ship’s officers represented a scarcity. Pilots flew goods back and forth, Cargo Master Gerard Yrden and his crew worked in the holds, and other officers had watch on the bridge. Thus, no one to pawn the lady off upon.
From the next table, he noticed Jackson Pelburn giving him a look – for which Telford would make him pay later. The man laughed at him in a discreet way.
“I didn’t see you on the tour – nor did you come back with any of the other tours,” Ms Pendleton said, fishing for information.
Telford wondered if she had checked his room and, as the probability seemed rather high, decided to not lie in that direction. “I informed you earlier, Ms Pendleton, that my company would love to get a toe in with the Damargs. So, I went to the station with the other traders to make contacts.”
“And did you?”
Perhaps, thought Telford, he should go on a diet – a fast, in fact. Unfortunately, that would likely see him dead before the troublesome Ms Pendleton left the ship, so he decided against it.
“Yes, I made contacts.” He left it at that. “However, I didn’t get to eat.”
And he ploughed into the food as if he were hungry. As long as he had something in his mouth he wouldn’t have to talk to her. This whole idea of Clay Yrden’s had about outlived its usefulness, he thought.
As soon as he had finished, he excused himself.
“I have work to do,” he said, standing.
Ms Pendleton looked as if she would end her meal at this point, too, so he briskly walked off. A glance back showed her regretfully turning her attention to her meal once more.
This couldn’t end too soon.
CHAPTER 18
Pallinteth Station
“Good news, Mr Yrden, Ms Yrden,” Korsh said, striding into their trading stall.
“Oh,” Clay asked, “and what would that be?”
“We just received word from Hittorsh. Each trade item has an identifying number. Somehow, somewhere, someone transposed two of the digits on one of the items on the prohibited list. The new number corresponded to cindra berry juice. I suspect that the Station Manager will soon arrive with his apologies and a removal of your custody order.”
Colleen felt relief pass through her, and saw Clay likewise relax.
“Thank you, Mr Korsh, for all you’ve done,” Clay said.
“My pleasure. And I have further good news.”
<
br /> “Oh?”
“Hittorsh Company wishes to bid for the entire lot of cindra berry juice.” He handed Colleen the offer.
“The entire lot?” she asked. “That’s a lot of juice.”
“Hittorsh has the customers to sell it to. We figure it’s a small repayment for the indignities you’ve suffered. We did, after all, extend the offer for you to come to Damarg space. And what happened embarrasses us.”
Clay took the offer and studied it. With a glance at Colleen, he picked up the embosser and sealed the deal.
“Done,” they said together.
Korsh nodded,
“Well, I hope the rest of your trading goes well. I have to pack. It pleases me that my company brought the word before I had to leave.” He turned and began to walk away.
They couldn’t let him just go like that, not after all he had done for them.
“Mr Korsh?” Colleen and Clay said together.
He turned.
Colleen looked at Clay. He nodded back. So, he had the very same idea.
“I thought your company had decided to send you into human and Pagayan space to learn more of the other space-faring species,” Clay said.
“True,” Korsh said. “A freighter lies waiting to take me to Daiovan. From there, I shall procure passage on a human or Pagayan ship.”
“Mr Korsh, we have a cabin on Blue Powder that you could use. You could come with us. We stop at many human – and a few Pagayan – worlds and stations.” Colleen hoped he would take them up on the invitation. She had learned much from him, and wished to learn much more to the benefit of both herself and Family.
He hesitated. “Blue Powder is a slightly more – what is the human word? – upscale ship than my company envisioned.”
She exchanged glances with Clay. Again a minute nod.
Clay smiled and said, “You have done us a great favour here, and the sale of all the cindra berry juice pretty much completes our business. The contact we made with Mr Entlill saw us distributing a great deal of our tulla wool fabric quickly and painlessly. And your skill as an interpreter have made things much easier.”
One Trade Too Many Page 14
