Cherryh, CJ – Merchanters Luck

pulled them out of his pocket and leaned forward as she did, passing them into

her extended hand across the desk, close, that close to touching. She leaned

back easily, looked through them, lingered over them.

“But these are new,” she said. “Except for the title papers, of course.” She

felt of the older paper, the title, itself false. “You know this kind of paper

gets traded on the market. Has to get from one station to the other, after all;

and across docks, and I know places where you can get it. Don’t you, Captain?”

“I’m legitimate.”

“So.” She passed the papers back to him, and he thrust them quickly back into

his pocket, his fingers gone cold. “So. Linked up with Dublin Again, are you? A

very respectable operation. That does say something for you. Unionsider.”

“I plan to operate here. On the Alliance side.”

“Oh, relations are very good with Union at the moment They’re supplying ships

and troops all along the Line. We have no quarrel with Union origins. You plan

to stay here, do you? Operate as Dublin’s pipeline out of the Sol trade?”

“I don’t know how things will work out.” He stepped slowly through the argument,

aware of maneuvering on the other side, not understanding it. Mallory was not

taken in. Was prodding at him, to find some provocation.

“Your certification comes through us,” she said. “We’ve got a problem, Captain.

We’ve got Mazianni activity between us and Sol, into the Hinder Stars. Does that

bother you?”

“It bothers me.”

“They’d like to cut us off, you understand. It’s a lot of territory to patrol.

And they win, simply by scaring merchanters out of that run. We’ve got two

stations coming back into operation, and we’re doing what we can to keep the

zones clear. We’ll be out at the nullpoints, making sure you’re not ambushed

there. We’ve got a rare agreement on the other side of the Line. Union’s sealing

up Tripoint and Brady’s and any other point you can name.” The eyes shot up to

lock on his, abrupt and invasive. “You play the shy side of legal, do you?

Marginer. I’ll reckon you’re no stranger to the fringes. Lying off in space.

Operating out of the nullpoints. Doing trading on the side, without customs

looking on. I’ll bet you have a fine sense of what’s trouble and what’s not. A

fine sense.”

He said nothing. Tried to think of an excuse to look away and failed in that

too.

“Might stand you in good stead,” she said. “It’s a place out there—that makes

raw nerves survival-positive. We’ll be there, Captain. I really want you to know

that”

It was delivered very softly, with the same stare. It promised-he had no idea

what.

“You can go,” she said. “You’ll find the obstacles clear. But I have news for

you. Your Konstantin Company cargo is cancelled. You’ll be carrying military

cargo. You’ll be paid hazard rate. An advantage. You’ll be taking it aboard in

short order and undocking at 0900 mainday.”

“Like that?”

“Like that.”

“I thought—I was under military investigation.”

“You are,” she said. “Good evening, Captain.”

“Maybe I don’t want this. Maybe I want to change my mind.”

“Do you, Captain? I’d prefer not.”

The silence hung there. “All right,” he said. “You protect us, do you?”

“As best we can, Captain.”

Never Stevens. She never used the name. He stood up, nodded a reflexive

courtesy. Not a response: dead eyes stared into him. He turned then and walked

out, and Talley followed him into the corridor, hand-signaled a trooper who came

down the corridor to walk him out.

Down the lift and out to the ramp again, the cold of the dock-side coming as a

shock after the metal closeness of the warship. He walked down the slant past

the guard that stood there, past uniformed troops and idle, hard-eyed stares… He

reached the dockside and walked away, taking larger breaths the farther he got

from the perimeter. He felt as if he had been picked up and shaken. Dropped

hard.

He saw the Dubliners waiting for him, out by the lighted fronts of the offices.

Allison and the others. He went toward them with the consciousness that the