“Why she wants a place at all on a ship like the Solar Queen being one of them?”
“It’s not exactly unreasonable to wonder. The idea of Teague Cofort’s sister bumming around the rim trying to pick up odd berths here and there does give a man pause.”
“Sure, unless she happens to be telling the truth. The Spirit of Space knows, that’s logical enough on the face of it, and she never said she’s planning to spend her life on the rim. Once she logs in some practical experience she could then rejoin her brother’s organization on her own terms or link up with some other inner-system ship. She can’t be blamed for not going for a Psycho placement. Its decision’s binding and long-term. If she’s hoping to go back to her own people in anything like the near future, she wouldn’t want to lock herself up elsewhere.
“The rim’s a reasonable place for her to come, too,” Tau went on. “She can find work here without having to worry about having her knowledge used in a Trade war against Teague since none of us deals with the same markets on any regular basis, or at least not regularly enough to form a threat.”
“So you’ve been considering some of the problems as well, I see,-for all your enthusiasm about our new hand.”
“Naturally. I’m not completely space-addled yet, I hope and pray. I’m just willing to make use of her talents while I’m wondering.”
“So am I, assuming she’s after what she claims she is. We can’t confirm that, not with almost everything we’ve got to go on coming straight from Rael Cofort herself.”
Jellico said nothing more for a moment, then he sighed.
“She’s so damned good, Craig. Why did Cofort let her go? I know. She claims she wants to try herself on her own, but Teague owns several freighters outright and has a strong interest in a number of others. Just about all his apprentices find places in his organization when they qualify. It doesn’t make sense that he couldn’t manage to come up with anything at all for his own sister.”
Miceal gave a sharp shake of his head. “What’s the matter with her? I can’t find it, but Cofort actively wanted to be rid of that woman or was at least more than willing to see the end of her.
“Even the way she fits in here’s against her. She’s trying too hard. No one not working at it full time could have the right answers, the precisely correct phrases, all the time.”
The Captain frowned. “How much of Rael Cofort are we actually seeing and how much a skillfully constructed facade?”
Miceal’s face hardened. “Right now, I wish we had turned Cofort’s damn offer down. I may well have shipped a potential nova aboard the Solar Queen—that or something half a universe worse.”
6
Jellico had little time to dwell on the puzzle of his unwelcome temporary hand the following day. The Queen was scheduled to set down on Canuche of Halio by late evening, and all the myriad tasks that accompanied planetfall kept him and the rest of her hands fully occupied.
Excitement ran high. The direction their immediate future would take would be decided on the rapidly nearing world.
Would they be lucky enough to pick up a charter, paying passengers or cargo that would enable them to write off the expense of their next voyage, albeit at the cost of dictating what the destination would be?
What sort of goods would they find to restock the Solar Queen’s nearly empty Trade holds? Jewels, textiles, luxury products, a vast array of manufactured items, raw materials, native produce—the planet’s markets offered them all, along with a smattering of other, more exotic goods brought in by Traders calling at the busy spaceport, but they could not predict what the exact mix or quality would be during their own stay on-world.
Soon now, they would be able to start answering those questions. In the meantime, they could only speculate and do what they could to prepare for whatever opportunities might arise—or be induced to arise—on Canuche of Halio.
A yowl and snarl like something issuing from the throat of a werebeast out of legend shocked Dane Thorson full awake.
The chill of the air told him the Queen was still on night schedule, but he did no more than note that as he cautiously made for the door panel of his cabin, feeling his way in the near-dark. He was not about to activate the lights, not until he ascertained what was wrong. Something most assuredly was. Anything out of the ordinary on a starship was to be viewed with suspicion, and a commotion in the middle of the night was the equivalent of a formal alarm, especially when she was on-world, as the Solar Queen now was.
Cautiously, he slid the panel back a crack. There was no noise now, but he froze at what he saw outside.
They had taken on a passenger, then, short a time as the hatch had been open yesterday evening. Sinbad had detected and tracked down the invader, but the challenge it presented was a real one. The beast was large, a good foot long excluding the whip-thin, hairless tail, and its low, slender body was solidly muscled. The claws on the digits of its four feet were inconsequential, obviously never intended to serve as a defense against a foe of the cat’s size.
The teeth in its long, bewhiskered muzzle were another matter. They were sharp, and the creature was fast enough to wield them efficiently. Both Sinbad’s ears were torn, and there was a deep gash on the side of his jaw.
However scored, the cat was the stronger fighter. The intruder’s brown fur was matted with blood, and it was obviously nearing the end of its strength. Sinbad recognized that. He crouched low, watching intently. Occasionally, his tail lashed with incredible, utterly controlled violence, but otherwise he was motionless, seemingly more statue than living animal.
Suddenly, with no forewarning detectable by either his prey or the watching man, Sinbad sprang. The powerful leap carried him high, then down with spine-shattering force onto the back of his opponent. Strong, needle-sharp teeth closed on the neck. Fraction-seconds later, he shook the thing and cast it on the deck, where it kicked twice in a final, nerve-fired spasm and lay still.
Dane’s eyes flicked to it, then away again. Moving quickly, he caught up Sinbad in his arms. They were no mere scratches that the cat had taken. The bleeding had to be stopped and medical care instituted at once. Immunization shots or no, the bite of an alien creature was one of the most potentially perilous accidents threatening an offworlder. No prophylactic series could defend against every one of the myriad microorganisms that might be introduced into the body by such means, many of which could overwhelm with terrifying speed and deadly result the defenses of beings not prepared by nature to confront them.
His lips compressed into a hard line. Holding the injured cat, working to stanch the bleeding that might soon dangerously weaken him, he realized that he no longer saw Sinbad simply as an animal kept aboard to perform a useful service for his human masters. This was a friend, a full member of the Solar Queen’s crew, the Chief of Pest Control in fact, as Rael Cofort had named him. Aye, there were grave limitations to the degree of communication attainable between members of his species and the feline, but Cargo-Masters and their apprentices working with precious little more on occasion when making contact with newly encountered or rarely visited races could manage to achieve lucrative trade relations beneficial to both parties . . .
When the crisis of the active bleeding was under control, Thorson hit the intercom button with a force born of anxiety. Be the victim four-footed or biped, the situation remained a medical emergency. It was his responsibility to summon expert help to deal with it.
Rael was out of her bunk and drawing on her trousers before Dane had half begun his terse description of the situation. In the next moment, she had rammed her bare feet into deck boots and thrust her aims into the sleeves of her tunic, then, grabbing the medical kit that never lay far from her hand when she slept, she dashed from her cabin.
She reached Thorson’s quarters at a full run, seconds before the senior Medic.
Her eyes sought and in the same moment found her patient. “Oh, Sinbad!” she exclaimed softly. “What’s happened to you, my brave little warrior?”
The woman set her bag down on the bottom of the bed, snapping it open as she did so. Her movements, though quick, were smooth and quiet, designed not to further startle the injured animal. “Hold him steady, Dane,” she instructed. “I want to take a quick look at those bites and then get to work on them.”