One Trade Too Many

by D. A. Boulter

  “Exactly,” Colleen said. “Thus, we’d love to have you guest with us for, say four months. After that, you could find a less expensive way to travel, or you could travel inexpensively on Blue Powder as our interpreter for when we encounter other Damarg traders as well as educating us on Damargian customs.”

  Korsh bowed to them. “A very generous offer. My company has already booked passage for me. I feel certain that they will want me to follow through with their plans. Nonetheless, I will enquire.”

  “I hope he takes us up on it,” Clay said after Korsh had left. “He’s the type of person that would make things much easier on us. He knows the Damargs, their customs. He gets on well with every human he comes into contact with.”

  “And he’s friendly with Tony Paxton,” Colleen added. “That might go a long way towards reducing Yrden-Paxton enmity.”

  Clay considered her for so long that she began to feel uncomfortable.

  “Yes, Clay?”

  “I know my mother is considering you as her replacement as Family Head.”

  Colleen closed her eyes. Wonderful. Did anyone not know? And how would this affect their marriage?

  “I’ve heard the rumour,” she admitted.

  Clay pressed his lips together, waiting until the tension in her stomach seemed like to tear her insides apart.

  “I think she’s on to something,” Clay finally said. “I think you’d do a good job there.”

  The relief almost brought tears to her eyes.

  “I don’t know that I would want the job,” she said.

  “Want or not, it doesn’t matter,” he said, patting her arm. “I think you’ll get it. Hopefully, a little later than sooner. I’m having too much fun as a trader to want to be cooped up in Haida Gwaii.”

  And what would that do to their marriage?

  “If it occurs, we don’t have to do as Jenna and Tamm have. And being Family Head doesn’t necessarily mean FTL Head as well.”

  “No, I guess we don’t, and it doesn’t.” He stood, offered her a hand, and aided her in rising. He took her into his arms and held her close. “I just don’t want this to ever end.”

  * * *

  Though they had continued to stay in the Hittorsh Company rooms for the final days of trade, they had moved their trading to the Trade Desk, where they went now to pack up.

  “Hello, Tony,” Colleen said as they entered.

  Paxton had begun to pack up, as well.

  He smiled at them – something that they had rarely received from a Paxton in recent years.

  “Colleen, Clay. We’re done. Everything’s gone; our hold lies empty.”

  She laughed. “Surely not. Tell me that you didn’t give everything away.”

  Paxton gave a dismissive gesture. “Empty of everything we brought. And we traded some of yours, too.” He stopped packing, and stood. “Your offer surprised me. That you made good on it – well, that surprised me, too. And having your goods to trade brought me contacts I otherwise would not have made. So, I thank you.”

  “We’re happy it turned out well for you and Max.”

  Tony nodded. “Could have turned out better. I had it in mind to trade some of the cindra berry juice, but when it cleared customs I found it no longer available.”

  Colleen nodded in return. “Upon that moment – when we received word that their bureaucracy had indeed fouled up – Mr Korsh made an offer for the entire lot. Hittorsh took it all. I only wish we had brought more.”

  Max Treverston appeared from the storage room, his sample case on a trolley. He waved at them in greeting.

  “It makes me sad to have to leave Pallinteth. Opening a new market fills one with excitement. Dealing with known traders can bring joy, but this ... ah, this. This is what traders were born to do!”

  Colleen knew that Clay felt much the same, and Minda had shown excitement unlike anything since she had Alistair McGowan thrust upon her. For herself, Colleen felt pleasure in the circumstances, but not elation. She knew how to trade, could engage in it satisfactorily, but lacked whatever those others had.

  And how could someone not a trader at heart take over and become head of a trading family?

  “Mr Yrden, Ms Yrden!”

  Clay and Colleen turned as one.

  “Mr Korsh,” Colleen spoke first. “How good to see you. I thought you outward bound.”

  “Ah, but both good news and bad. Bad for the freighter my company booked me passage on, for it must delay departure. Good for me, in that I find myself able to accept your offer – if it remains open.”

  Clay nodded assent. “It does, indeed, Mr Korsh. We welcome you on board. How soon can you finish packing?”

  Korsh looked at him in surprise. “But I have already packed, Mr Yrden. Were it not for the mechanical difficulties, I would already – as you put it – be outward bound. I merely need to transfer my luggage. Fifteen of your minutes will suffice.”

  “You’re coming with us?” Tony asked. “Wonderful. We will have more time to talk, you, Max and I.”

  “Most excellent. I look forward to it. But now I must run.”

  Colleen laughed, feeling the joy bubbling up inside her. “No need to run, Mr Korsh. It will take us longer than fifteen minutes to load the shuttle. And we will wait for you no matter how long it takes.”

  * * *

  Blue Powder

  With everyone safely ensconced in Blue Powder, Colleen and Clay returned to the bridge.

  “Station Manager Portash,” Colleen greeted the Damarg over the comm. “We thank you for your hospitality. Our passengers have nothing but good to say about the way your people treated them.”

  Portash seemed to grow bigger. “Please let them know that we enjoyed their presence.” He looked away, and then back again. “And, again, please accept my apologies for the manner in which we treated you and your husband.”

  Colleen waved it off with a Damarg-style hand-wave. Though he might have acted somewhat precipitously with respect to the cindra berry juice, the way he had bent over backwards for other crew and passengers more than made up for it.

  “Think no more of it,” Colleen told him. “I only hope that this trip is the first of many for Blue Powder and the Family Trading League, and would enjoy seeing trade between your worlds and ours open more fully. Aside from the misunderstanding, Blue Powder has rarely had a more productive and enjoyable visit. Rest assured that we will pass on nothing but glowing reports.”

  “Thank you, Ms Yrden.”

  “Well,” Clay said as they disconnected, “you certainly laid it on thick.”

  She pondered that for a moment. “Not so thick. Has any human station welcomed us so thoroughly? You’ve heard from Minda, from the purser, from the pilots. Outside of ourselves, no one had the slightest complaint. Human stations are only too eager to get our money above all else; Pallinteth seemed more to want our company.”

  Clay laughed. “That’ll change.”

  “Perhaps. But usually you’re the optimist. Even Adrian enjoyed Pallinteth.”

  Clay laughed again. “But that’s only because it allowed him to escape the attentions of Ms Pendleton – for which I do not blame him in the slightest.”

  She glanced at the NavTank. “Time to get the passengers to the lounges, I think.”

  “And throw Mr Telford back into the clutches of Ms Pendleton? I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”

  * * *

  Telford didn’t appreciate having Ms Pendleton sitting beside him once again. At least he’d seen very little of her during their stay at Pallinteth. Between her touring the station and him pretending to gain contacts there, he had managed to stay far from her.

  “Wasn’t it exciting?” she said. “I met several Damargs. One even shook my hand. They have leathery skin – but soft, almost like suede. Did you know that?”

  “Yes, Ms Pendleton, I discovered the same thing.”

  “Please, call me Mary.”

  Fortunately, the thrusters kicked in, turning their chairs
to the front, which put him behind her. For the duration of the burn he could concentrate on his own thoughts. They now had a Damarg aboard, and though Korsh seemed innocuous, Telford didn’t trust that much goodness all in one being.

  And he and Jackson still hadn’t come any closer to discovering anyone on board who wished the Yrdens ill – besides Mary Pendleton. He gave an inward shrug. That could be because no one other than Mary Pendleton had anything against the Yrdens. Not including Max Treverston and Tony Paxton, both of whom had softened considerably during the trip and especially after the trading began. No, nothing there.

  The burn ended, and Telford waited for everyone to leave before getting up himself. He liked to watch the various people, get into their heads if he could. Mary Pendleton, naturally, waited with him, to his annoyance.

  “I don’t like Terry Muncer,” she suddenly stated.

  “Oh?” he asked, not really paying much attention. “Why is that?”

  Perhaps the man had turned down her advances, though he didn’t recall seeing any of those, nor did any of the crew report such.

  “He’s shifty,” she stated.

  “I hadn’t noticed,” he replied, hoping she would just get up and leave, wondering if he should. But some of the passengers still remained, and he liked to see who talked to whom.

  “Of course, you haven’t noticed. You keep your face buried in the reader. I’m surprised that you see anything at all.”

  Which just proved that he had done his job proud. If Mary Pendleton didn’t suspect anything, no one would.

  “I heard him say he’s getting off at Liberty. Yet he has a ticket through to Yamato, and Blue Powder’s new itinerary says that we go to Yamato directly after Liberty.”

  And that engaged Telford’s interest. He had studied every passenger’s file, and she made no mistake, Muncer would leave them at Yamato – though how she had come across this information, he didn’t know.

  “I pay attention,” she almost snapped at him when he asked. “Something you should do more of.”

  Undoubtedly referring to his seeming lack of perception where her advances were concerned.

  “Perhaps he means to change ships at Liberty.”

  “I’ve looked at the Yrden Family schedules. He could have if we hadn’t gone to Pallinteth. But now that we’re behind schedule, it makes no sense. Next Yrden ship direct to Yamato from Liberty leaves a month after we get there.”

  “And who did he mention that to?” Telford asked in a bored way, as if he merely appeased her.

  She glared at him, which made him feel good. Perhaps she would finally decide that he wasn’t worth cultivating.

  “Jim Little. Now why would he tell Mr Little?”

  “I don’t know, Ms Pendleton. But, then again, why wouldn’t he?”

  “Because they don’t sit together, they never eat at the same table, they never go into the zero-g room together, although both of them partake. So, why would he suddenly go up to Mr Little, when he was looking at the itinerary, and state that he was getting off at Liberty? No preamble, Mr Telford.”

  He briefly considered putting the formidable Ms Pendleton on retainer. But that would mean having to debrief her, and that would be asking much too much of him.

  Finally, the last few passengers strayed out of the lounge. Telford rose, wondering how he would shake off Ms Pendleton in order to get to Security.

  With only the two of them left in the lounge, Mary Pendleton turned to him. She looked up into his face, searching for something.

  “Are you having an affair with one of the crewmembers?” she asked.

  He coughed. She came up with the most stunning things. “No. Whyever would you think that?”

  “Because I’ve seen you sneaking up to the crew deck.” She pinned him with her sharp gaze.

  “That’s because I have business with the Yrdens. As I told you earlier – as you saw earlier – I do business with Tro Vremen on Pelgraff. Only the Yrdens stop at Pelgraff. In order to do business with Tro Vremen, I also must do business with the Yrdens. And it hardly makes sense to my company to use a different line for the rest of our shipping.” He gave himself a pat on the back for coming up with that so seamlessly. He put some annoyance into his tone. “And I don’t sneak up to the crew deck, I call ahead and wait for permission to go up.”

  But her face had gone soft, and she no longer appeared to listen to what he said. She smiled brightly at him, and then wandered off.

  “Why me?” Telford asked.

  “Because of karma,” Jackson Pelburn replied when he repeated the question in the safety of Security. He looked up from the computer screen. “But she’s right about a lot – if not all. Both Little and Muncer use the zero-g room. They have never signed in at the same time, or even overlapped. They have never sat at the same table, though they were once scheduled to. A Captain’s Table meal. Mr Little begged off with a headache – actually went to see the doctor for some pills. And Mr Muncer does have a ticket through to Yamato. If he gets off at Liberty, he’ll spend a month waiting there for the next direct flight to Liberty on Yrden Lines.”

  Telford nodded. “Which doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have relatives living on Liberty, with whom he has arranged a vacation – or had something arranged, which our side trip fouled up. He could have made a switch if we hadn’t fallen behind schedule.”

  “True enough. However, everyone knows we don’t stay strictly on schedule, and to count on such a tight connection would take a fool. Besides he hasn’t informed the purser that he wishes to leave at Liberty.”

  “Which doesn’t mean he won’t.”

  Pelburn looked up from the file. “Perhaps you should sic Pendleton on him.”

  “Perhaps I should. I even thought of that.” He decided to throw a barb back in retaliation for the ‘karma’ remark. “I’ve even considered having the Yrdens hire her as Chief of Security for this ship. That would put you under her orders.”

  “You’re a nasty, nasty man,” Jackson told him.

  “And this nasty, nasty man has a knife fight to attend.” Telford walked out.

  * * *

  “Ready?” he asked Colleen.

  She produced a training knife, and sank down into her crouch. He began to circle her, and she moved in counterpoint.

  A slash, and she jumped back. He didn’t fall for it and follow her. They knew each other’s moves too well for that.

  But it felt good to practice, to rid himself of some tension that working undercover produced. And it felt especially good to have this time with Colleen. Sometimes her husband attended these sessions; sometimes he even took part, though he didn’t practice enough to become anything more than average.

  Today, his duty had the captain somewhere else, and Telford could feel for a short while that no one stood between them as Clay did.

  By the time the hour ended, both were sweating freely. Colleen wiped her forehead. “A good work-out, Adrian”

  “Yes, Ms Yrden,” he replied. “A good workout.”

  “Colleen,” she suggested for the thousandth time.

  He figured she said it more out of habit than expecting anything to come of it. He dearly wished to use her name, but knew she would hear the change in his voice if he did.

  “Yes, Ms Yrden.”

  She laughed. He loved to hear her laugh. Hell, he loved to hear her voice reciting manifest items.

  “We may have a lead on something – Pelburn and I.”

  “Oh?”

  He took a deep breath. “Came to us via Ms Pendleton. Don’t know that anything will come of it, but I figured I’d let you know. You can tell your husband that we’re still on the lookout.”

  He explained what Ms Pendleton had uncovered. “Might mean nothing.”

  “Or it might mean something, Adrian. Keep on it.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Blue Powder

  Daiovan Station loomed on the other side of the shields that held the occupants of the starboard lounge safe from the pred
ations of vacuum.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it, Mr Telford?” Mary Pendleton asked.

  He didn’t find it beautiful at all. It merely reminded him of Liberty Station hanging in space before its planet, and all that had brought him to the Yrdens. Not a happy story to tell to anyone – not that he had any desire or inclination to tell it. Nor would he.

  “Beautiful,” he agreed.

  “You don’t think so,” she contradicted him. “I can hear it in your voice.”

  “I don’t really think so,” he agreed, annoyed that this sharp-sensed woman could see through him so easily. He decided to change the subject. “Will you go on the station this time – you’ve already been there once.”

  “Of course. I’m going with Ms Silverston, the anthropologist. We’ve begun quite a friendship. She’s studying the Pagayans, you know.”

  “I’d heard. I thought you didn’t like Pagayans.”

  “That was before I met Tro Vremen.” She looked up at him. “I have you to thank for that. Imagine if you hadn’t introduced us. I might yet find myself drowning in my late husband’s prejudices.”

  “You’re welcome.” Well, maybe that would count as a good point in his ledger, even if he had introduced them as a way to spite her. “What other prejudices did you drown in?”

  “Xenophobia, I think, hurt the most. But now that I’ve met so many wonderful people from so many different planets, how can I go back to it? And Tro Vremen and our own Mr Korsh.”

  “Korsh?” Had she begun stalking him part of her own personal mission, too? Had he said anything to her that might jeopardize Telford’s own mission?

  “Yes. Mr Korsh. Such a lovely person. Ms Silverston is just over the Moon. She speaks with him every chance she gets, and I have learned so much from the two of them.”

  Telford would rather she learned more about Little and Muncer, which endeavour saw him speaking to her more often. She had ferreted out secrets about so many passengers, and she just loved to talk to him about them. He merely needed to point one out, make a comment, and then reap the rewards of her inquisitiveness.