A Mind For Trade Part 6

But a new voice piped up from behind, causing them all to turn round sharply: "I know, me!"

It was Tooe. She stood rather limply in the hatchway, her crest half-raised at a hopeful angle.

Dane sprang up and guided his apprentice to one of the padded seats. "What do you know?" he asked.

"No more sleep for Tooe," she said, looking around at them with her great yellow eyes. Ali noted that she had some of her brightness back. "I call up comp, see tape. Kithin people!"

"What?" Mura looked perplexed.

Dane grinned suddenly. "Of course-that's what they reminded me of. Kithin, one of the people in Tooe's klinti back on Exchange. Go on, Tooe."

The apprentice looked back and forth at them, reminding Ali forcibly of a bird with new crumbs. "I know Kithin talk, I talk them."

"But you can't," Ali said. "They won't answer the corn-link."

Tooe shook her head quickly. "You do not hear. No, you hear, but you do not understand. Lossin says, Our camp is now your camp, our ore is now your ore. Kithin people live in habitats like Exchange, but not rich. Things scarce. things important. Honor important. Charter is ours, ship is ours, camp is now ours, comlink ours."

"You mean, they've left their camp? Expecting us to take it over?" Dane asked.

Tooe gave her quick nod, then winced and rubbed at her neck with her thin, webbed fingers.

"By the Eleven h.e.l.ls of Treloar!" Mura exclaimed, slamming his hands down on the table. "That's it! I've heard Van Ryke talk about them before. These Tath-that's what they call themselves-have been in habitats for generations, habitats made from welding old ships together. They apparently don't have much in the way of personal property, but what is theirs is guarded fiercely, yet shared when there's need. All kinds of questions of honor bound up there, way beyond the legalities of Trade."

"But we have to honor Trade Law," Jasper pointed out.

Dane added wryly, "Or the Patrol will be on our backs in a big way."

"Let me get this straight," Ali said. "They'll sit out there in that hurricane because of a sense of honor?"

Tooe gave a tiny nod this time, and whistled one of her trills. "They wait for us to tell them, come back to camp. Use camp, use things. Things ours now. Not theirs; we give things back, then they use. But owe us honor-obligation."

It was Jasper who now gave a sober nod. "Their culture probably depends a lot on trust," he murmured. "I expect they had little else when they began."

Ali stared at the pallid little man, feeling his viewpoint skew round. It made him almost dizzy, as if the ship had been picked up and spun by a giant hand. Was Jasper talking about more than these unknown Tath-like maybe Venusian colonists?

Ali clamped his mouth shut, wondering how much Jasper had picked up of his thoughts. He did not show his irritation, but he resolved to himself that when Tau woke up from his sleep-shift, the medic would find him in the lab, waiting.

"Hate to think of those people out in this weather without any protection," Dane said with a glance at the blank screen.

"They'd weather it better than we would," Frank said. "I don't know too much about the Tath, but I do know that that fur protects them from the foulest weather."

Dane grinned suddenly.

"Speak up," All said, feeling almost giddy from the combination of Dane's and Jasper's relief, and his own. "What's so funny? Seems to me we've had a dearth of jokes of late."

"When Rip and I met them. There was a. distinctive smell. I just realized what it reminded me of." His grin widened.

"And. ?" Frank prompted.

Dane laughed. "Wet dog," he said.

Chapter Seven.

The storm lashed at the Queen for two days. At the height of the gale the thunder was almost a continuous rumble through the hull, but that wasn't why those who customarily slept on the upper decks bunked down in the tiny pa.s.senger cabins lower in the ship. Rip Shannon said trying to sleep up in his cabin on the control deck made him realize for the first time what seasickness meant.

A portion of those two days Dane spent in helping Stotz run his simulations and then, based on extrapolations of the most likely outcomes, begin matching the tools and basic parts that would likely be necessary for rebuilding the mining-bots into refining machinery.

"We'll likely still need the ultrasonic crushing equipment," said Stotz, "and certainly the catalytic separators, but the rest of these Geepees are probably going to be redundant."

Tooe came down to help. She didn't lift anything, but her quick fingers were deft at wiring.

"We not move ship?" she asked when the work began. "Very exposed place."

Stotz gave his head a shake. "We can't move the ship, but we can add extra guy cables. We'll shake and shimmy, but we'll be stable enough."

"When we do unload the Geepees, we'd better clear off the boulders upwind of us," Kamil drawled. He was also there to help. "There's a reason there aren't any hills here. I don't like to think of a two-ton rock smashing into the Queen just when I'm settling down to get my beauty sleep."

Tooe grinned at the term "beauty sleep" but she didn't speak. Seeing her smile made Dane smile too. He still hadn't quite figured out her sense of humor. Seemingly random things would suddenly send her into hoots and trills of laughter; and though she seemed quite happy to explain if she was asked, somehow it seemed inappropriate to continually ask someone to explain what she thought funny. He didn't want to imply there was something wrong with her humor.

Stotz just lifted an eyebrow slightly, but went right on with his work. He and Tau had contrived a daunting number of instruments to be placed out for measuring everything from temperature fluctuations to the water and mineral content of wind, rain, and whatever else the weather threw their way. On the first calm night, the scientific arm of the crew would be out planting these things all over, as well as adding the extra guy cables to stablize the ship. Dane knew that he and Rip were scheduled to attempt contact once again with Lossin and the others.

Two days pa.s.sed. Though there was no change in the weather, Dane was glad to find that each day made a tremendous difference in how he felt. Unless he clambered up three flight decks at once, he didn't notice gravity much of the time anymore. The biggest problem was altering habits he'd slowly developed in microgravity.

Not that he had the problems that poor Tooe had. Tau had contrived an aeration device for her, and that enabled her to get nourishment. But twice, as Dane watched, she absently parked her drink in the air, expecting it to stay there, as she reached for something else-and both times before he could open his mouth to warn her it dropped painfully on her foot.

The first time, she stopped and crouched down, intently watching the liquid spread out in a spill, her crest spiking up at an alert angle.

Dane heard a slight noise and looked up, to see Ali trying halfheartedly to repress a laugh.

"Like water better in spheres," Tooe said finally, looking up. She got the liquid scoop from its place in the tool rack and watched intently as it slurped up the mess and sent it to the re-cycler.

So everyone kept busy on various tasks.

The third day dawned with a pale, watery light filtering below a solid bank of white clouds. For the first time the visibility was relatively good, and he could see gray-blue ocean stretching out endlessly in all directions save the south. The giant trees seemed unharmed, their big, rubbery-looking green leaves shiny in the light. Dane suspected those leaves were tougher than plasweave.

During the course of the day Dane checked the port-screens a number of times, and saw fog banks hovering here and there. Were there Floaters in them? Probably. The cold thrill of evil so near made it impossible not to look for them. Yet there was nothing horrible in the sight. The fog even had a kind of alien, delicate beauty, the way it drifted in dreamy patches over the water, and round the great trees.

Night finally came, without another storm. The measuring instruments were ready, positioned for easy carrying in the outer hatchway lock. Everyone was now awake; they weren't even trying, as yet, to match their sleep cycles with the planetary diurnal rhythm. There was too much work to be done, and everyone seemed to feel like Dane did: mentally restless, but physically strained due to the long time spent away from gravity.

When night had fallen, Ali Kamil came out, carrying a box. "Here's my contribution," he said with one of his twisted smiles, and began handing out roundish objects to each person gathered in the mess cabin to discuss last-minute plans.

"Helmets," Rip said with obvious pleasure. "With lights attached."

Ali shrugged. "Got the idea from the Floaters, actually. These are probably useless against them, but the helmet idea itself seemed good. The lights will run for ten hours. There's an intensifier here"-he demonstrated a control-"but then the power packs will only run five hours max. However, you can carry extra power packs clipped to your belts; I didn't want to add more weight to the helmets."

"Good thinking," Mura said feelingly. "What's here, a comlink?"

"Easier than the pocket links we usually carry. Since we're always going to be working at night, and probably in rotten weather, I figured these would become part of daily wear." He handed Tooe hers, which he had altered to fit over her crest.

Tooe whistled happily, turning the helmet over and over in her fingers. "Is good, Ali Kamil. Is good."

"Not elegant," Ali said with his faint, slightly mocking smile. "I doubt they'll start any fashions when we get back to civilization. But they are tough; I used high-density pla.s.s to absorb most of the impact of the occasional flying rock or falling branch."

Dane took his, and fitted it on his head. Ali had used his engineer's mind to devise a comfortable and easily operated item. Dane was just as glad that now he wouldn't have to wear the awkward helmet light he'd hastily contrived in his cabin during his rare free time.

Rip fitted his on, gave a nod to Ali, then looked around. "Ready?"

Four of them were going out for the first extended expedition. Tooe had wanted badly to accompany Rip and Dane- and Dane would have felt better with her along for this initial contact with the stranded crew of the Ariadne-but Tau had decreed that Tooe must stay near the ship for a little while longer because he didn't trust her not to overtax her strength.

Dane had spent most of his time studying the data files on the Tath. As he walked down the ramp with Rip Shannon, he felt he was as prepared as he could be-but long experience had taught him never to be overconfident even about very detailed files. Too often there was some crucial fact either left out or misrepresented. Though Tooe only knew one Tath, and that one had been left behind on Exchange at a young age, he was sure that her ability with the Tathi language would give them extra insight in understanding these people.

They started downhill between the trees. Dane could see his breath in the chill air. The lights that Ali had built into their helmets were powerful, showing that the rudiments of a pathway had been worn on the ground and then had grown over; spiky gra.s.ses were noticeably shorter in a winding trail leading south.

Very soon they entered a clearing. Dane felt a kind of sick coldness inside when he recognized it as the site of the Floater attack. He and Rip both hurried their steps, and Rip cast Dane an ironic smile at the instinctive reaction they'd both shared.

Across the clearing, and through the trees again. Both walked slowly and deliberately. The ground was muddy, but too rocky to make sinking a danger. The path they proceeded down seemed to be a kind of spine along the hillside; the ground fell away on both sides. Dane saw the boles of mighty trees growing from ground he couldn't see. The trees reached at least a hundred meters upward.

They kept moving steadily downhill. Dane thought grimly of the climb back up-then decided not to think of it. He'd face that reality when he came to it.

He was beginning to wonder if they'd pa.s.sed the campsite and were lost when Rip stopped, and sniffed the air. Dane cautiously sniffed as well, not liking the freezing burn along his sinuses. There was a faint whiff of smoke.

"This way," Rip said, pointing to the west.

They picked their way down through the boulder-strewn cliffside, fetching up against the huge trees for frequent rests. Going downhill was not appreciably easier than going up, not at such a slope; Dane felt his calves and thighs cramping and wondered how long he would last.

But after they'd caught their breath against a gigantic tree that had to have a diameter of six meters at least, they picked their way around it, clambering over the knee-high roots, and saw faint lights glimmering in the undergrowth just a little ways further downhill.

Neither made an attempt to keep their footfalls silent. It was bad enough to be invading the camp without an invitation; they did not want to seem like they were sneaking.

When they reached the campsite, they found nine shadows waiting for them. Dane caught a glimpse of small tents arranged round a central cooking place, and though this camp was located among an especially thick grove of trees, he winced in sympathy, wondering how pleasant this could have been during the storm. Those trees must not have afforded much shelter from the icy deluge.

No one spoke as they neared the waiting Traders. Their helmet lights shone in unblinking eyes. Dane saw that there were four Tath, and five beings from other worlds. All of these latter five were humanoid, but there the resemblance ended. All nine wore Free Trader brown tunics.

There was no time to study them more closely.

Rip halted, and Dane as well. A quick glance from Rip, and Dane cleared his throat, dry from breathing harshly on the long walk.

"We restore to you your camp," he said. "Everything you took from Ariadne," he said firmly. "Our people do not want any tools or possessions from the ship of the dead. Ariadne has a new name, new people, new tools and possessions. She is now North Star."

That much he had planned, with Tooe's help. He said it in Trade, and then he said it in Tathi, hoping the four who were not Tath would understand-or at least not be offended.

It got an effect-though he couldn't tell if the reaction was bad or good, as the growly voices murmured. Dane was distracted as one of the smaller beings swayed, and was braced by another. They silently withdrew toward one of the tents.

The others closed ranks, and regarded Dane and Rip impa.s.sively.

Dane looked over at Rip for clues, to meet a blank look. Of course. This was his job. Dane turned his gaze back to the Traders. The Tath still stood quite close, shoulder to shoulder, and Dane felt a flash of irritation. Were they hoping to intimidate him into some kind of concession by crowding him like that?

Clearly something else was needed.

Dane thought rapidly, part of his brain distracted by the bone-chilling cold. If this was summer, how were they going to work successfully during winter nights?

Suddenly Rip cleared his throat. Dane could feel Rip's impulse of compa.s.sion-or was that his own emotion? For a moment he felt vertigo, as if he had double vision. He closed his eyes.

Rip spoke. "When we are ready to go, we will take you to the nearest port so you can get on with your lives."

Silence.

One Tath murmured. Lossin turned his head-translating.

All along the row the Traders stood still. Then two or three murmured, long antiphonal phrases with the rise and fall of ritual chants.

Dane felt an unsettling sensation inside. Somehow he and Rip had done wrong. Or was he misreading them?

Then Lossin said, "Our lives are yours."

Again the murmurs.

Then Lossin said, in the same growling voice, flat-toned, "We bring ore to you."

Dane opened his mouth, trying to come up with an appropriate answer, but the Traders did not wait. One by one, in total silence, they turned away and began the walk to their camp.

"Wait," Dane said.

They all stopped at once, exchanging looks. A couple of them talked, and the tallest Tath said something in a quick voice, silencing them.

Once again they ranged themselves in a tight line, facing Dane and Rip.

"That crewmember." Dane pointed down toward their camp at the lit tent, in whose walls shadows could be seen moving about. "You have someone sick? Can we help?"

"Parkku end life in freedom," Lossin p.r.o.nounced, still in that flat voice.

Then, just as before, the Traders withdrew, this time dispersing in perfect silence to their tents.

Dane and Rip watched until they had all disappeared. Then Rip looked a question at Dane. "Do you sense any kind of invitation to join them?"

Dane shrugged, feeling defeated, though he didn't know why. Frustration, tiredness, anger warred in him. "About as much as I'd welcome a Norsundrian vampire-wasp in my cabin at night."

Rip grimaced. "To tell the truth, I feel like we've been dismissed."

"Not dismissed," Dane said heavily. "Closed out."

There was nothing to do but start the long trek back to the Queen.