Whatever her instinctive reaction, however, the woman’s temper held. Her eyes narrowed, and she studied him sharply. “What’s the matter, Miceal?” she asked quietly.
He sighed. “Beauty’s a commodity in Happy City. If any of its creatures happened to witness your work with that piece of Thornen silk, they’ll set the value of a small river tear, and a prime stone at that, on you and maybe more depending on their specific interests. The most spineless vermin in the ultrasystem would try to grab a prize like that if they thought they could get away with it.” Anger shot through him, hot and sharp. “Whatever you do with your life, I won’t see you slaving for those subbiotics!”
Rael’s head lowered. “I’m aware of that possibility,” she told him. “I wasn’t planning on taking chances. As for wandering around, after that business with the port rats, I don’t find the idea of exploring Canuche Town after dark particularly appealing. Once the markets and shops close, there isn’t much here apart from the restaurants to draw me away from the Queen anyway. I’ll be happier and better occupied working on Doctor Tau’s study.”
The Captain’s anger deepened. Aye, he thought bitterly, she would have to have recognized that peril. Comeliness was as a rule an asset in Trade, particularly when dealing with humans, who tended to respond favorably to those they considered to be attractive. Anything greatly beyond that was another matter. Too striking an appearance could be a decided disadvantage under a great many circumstances, and Rael Cofort would have been a potential target even as a very young girl.
Sympathy swept over him. He wanted to take her in his arms, hold and shield her . . .
Jellico resisted that impulse, but he did not want to leave the Medic with the gloom he had aroused weighing her down. He made himself smile, as if at himself. “I’ve wasted a lot of breath with that warning,” he said. “You know, or should know, all of it as well as I do. — Space, I may have some years on you, but given the fact that you were born on a freighter, there probably isn’t all that much disparity in the amount of time we’ve spent wandering around the starlanes.”
Her eyes sparkled. “You’ve certainly put it to better use, then, m.
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afford to buy natural jewels. Synthetics could broaden the Solar Queen’s potential customer base enormously, in fact, given their greater intensity of color, the cheaper article might actually prove the preferred item in some markets.
The credit outlay to get started would not be much, either, and the test stock would claim only a minute portion of their ever-precious cargo space.
The apprentice nodded to himself in satisfaction. He needed to do some more reading. Then he would put together the figures, outline probable good markets and a Trade strategy, and lay his proposal before his chief.
Van Rycke should go for it. Making a profit, not exposing obscure murder plots, was the Queen’s function in life, and this looked like a fine chance to open up a brand-new subfield and effectively monopolize it, at least in this Sector, for a couple or maybe three years until the other Traders caught wise and could move on their own accounts.
“Dane! I thought you were still in the hold.”
He looked up. Rip Shannon had just come into the crew’s cabin and was looking at him in mild surprise. “I finished up there twenty minutes ago,” he responded.
The other’s dark face clouded. “I saw Rael go down nearly that long ago, and the hatch was still unfastened when I glanced at it just now.”
Thorson straightened. “That calls for some investigation.”
“Easy, friend,” Rip said hastily. “She probably has a good reason …”
“She’s got no right to be there, not without the CargoMaster’s approval, or mine in Van Rycke’s absence.”
“You want some help?”
That gave him pause. “No,” he replied slowly. “I’m not accusing her of anything.” Once more, his expression hardened. “Just stick around. If I’m not back reasonably fast, come looking for me, and be real careful when you do.”
Dane grimaced at the melodramatic cast of his whole reaction to his shipmate’s announcement. Blast Rael Cofort anyway, he thought irritably. Why was it that she seemed to bring out that in him, or managed to get them all involved in situations that demanded an oversized response?
On Ali Kamil, it might look good. He, on the other hand, made a ridiculous hero.
All the same, he did not stop. Cargo and Trade goods were his responsibility. He had no choice but to check out any interference with either. A sabotaged shipment had once given the Queen galaxy-class trouble, and he was not about to risk a replay of that. There was neither profit nor pleasure in the close proximity of extremely unpleasant death.
Cofort was still in the hold when the Cargo-apprentice reached it moments later. Everything looked to be in order, and there was nothing to indicate what she had been doing since her arrival, but she had the examination length of the silver fabric out and had unfolded a corner of it. This she was holding out from her so that she could view it against the gray background of the hold and against the warm, pale flesh of her other hand.
Thorson cleared his throat. The woman glanced at him, then looked again at the silver net. “I didn’t have a chance to examine our acquisitions closely before. This is really lovely. You did very well with it.”
Rael sighed as she returned the length to its place.
“When I was aboard the Roving Star,” she said bitterly, “I listened to Teague and didn’t buy any such basically useless luxuries. Now, I can’t afford them. I’ll never be able to have them, either, not as long as I remain a virtuous, hardworking rim Free Trader.”
The Medic stopped speaking, seeing the open suspicion in her companion. “Power down, boy,” she snapped. “No Cofort’s ever turned jack. I don’t intend to start any new traditions in that line.”
“You wouldn’t admit it if you did,” he replied, trying to make his response sound light but not quite succeeding.
Rael shrugged delicately. “We deal with some beautiful things. I’m not expected to be immune to the charms of all of them, I hope. — You certainly aren’t.”
The man started, and her lips curved into a smile that was not all good-humored sympathy. “I saw the way you looked at that leather utility belt before you settled for the one you bought. If you can want a lot of things you can’t have, why deny me the same right?”
“But you can have some of this,” he countered quickly, picking up on what he saw as the flaw in her argument. “There’s nothing stopping a crew member from buying part of a cargo for personal use. This is faux cloth, not the real thing. A small length of it wouldn’t run you that much.”
She shook her head. “You don’t have enough of it to split your stock. Twelve full bolts isn’t much to offer as it is. Any less, and you can wave farewell to the hope of a quick bulk sale.”
“You’re so concerned about the Solar Queen’s profits?” Dane demanded sarcastically.
Rael’s chin lifted. “One is always loyal to the ship to which one is bound, however long or short the term of service.”
“So tradition goes,” he said. “I haven’t been out of Pool and in space long enough to see if it actually holds true or not.”
“It holds. Usually. The ships where it doesn’t have a tendency to disappear with all hands. Besides, Cargo-Master Van Rycke isn’t likely to fragment the value of his stock by selling off part of it at this stage.” Her response had been cold. Dane Thorson was too sensitive about his youth and lack of experience to call attention to them if he wasn’t trying to be smart. “While I’m with the Queen, I’ll serve her interests.”
“And afterward?”
“Afterward, I’ll compete with her if I have to. So will you, most likely, when you finally qualify.”
Both were silent for some moments after that.
Rael’s eyes fell first. “That was a low blow. I’m sorry, and sorry I was down here without your say. I came looking for you as per Jellico’s instructions, but I should’ve left again when I didn’t find you. I guess I just fell into old habits. I had free run of the Star’s holds.”
“You were good with cargo, I suppose?” he asked sourly. Why not? She was good with everything any way important to him.
“Very good with a lot of it. Teague wanted me for CargoMaster. He was furious when I opted for Medic training instead.” Her back seemed to straighten. “Maybe I was wrong. I liked cargo work and frontline Trade, and unquestionably, I’d have been more useful to him in that capacity, but medicine had the stronger call. I chose to answer it and stuck by that decision.”