Trader's Leap (Liaden Universe Book 23)

by Sharon Lee

  Bentamin’s lips twitched. He closed the comm unit, and rested there a moment, hip against desk. A nap now . . .

  A nap sounded infinitely attractive. He wondered, idly, how long it had been since he’d had one.

  After a moment, he shook his head, stood . . .

  And went back to the meeting.

  Dutiful Passage

  * * *

  I

  Astonishingly, Pommier was agreeable to taking their displaced crew—well, no. Padi corrected herself; that wasn’t the astonishing part. Of course, Pommier would take displaced spacers. If they refused and a complaint was filed with the Guild, as it surely would be, given that Hepster si’Neest was among the eight leaving the Passage—they would be reprimanded, and fined and put on probation. Pommierport was important in this sector. They certainly wouldn’t jeopardize their standing over the trivial burden of eight displaced spacers.

  No, Padi thought, calling up her personal files, the astonishing thing had been that Pommier had agreed to let the Passage dock and trade. Port admin seemed perfectly oblivious to their supposed reputation as a violent ship. They’d not been immediately banned as pirates or outlaws. They’d been given an approach and an orbit. Father had received a trade packet and a port ID for himself as master trader; and also a packet and ID for her, which duly noted her status as an apprentice-in-trade.

  Padi had read the packet while she ate her hasty nuncheon. Now, having just finished her shift in ’ponics, she was taking advantage of the common use station to access her inventory list.

  The wood and the tinderfones were possibles, she thought, but that was light stuff, really, and only in her inventory at all because whimsy sometimes sold where serious goods did not.

  Then there was the question of what she ought buy into for The Redlands, which remained frustratingly obscure. Well, perhaps there was information to be had at Pommier.

  It was a puzzle, but not one that could have her whole attention now. Now, she had better be on her way, or she’d be late at the Pet Library.

  She shut the screen down, and set out at a brisk walk for the ship’s library. No one had found it necessary to tell her why two hours in the Pet Library had been added to her schedule, or why it replaced one of her scheduled sessions with Lina. Granted, Lina was Ship’s Librarian, but the melant’i of that position did not include instructing barely emerged and uncatalogued dramliz.

  Still, the schedule was the schedule and she kept to it though she was beginning to sorely miss her private research and study time. She was going to have to contrive some consecutive hours to compare the trade packet closely with her inventory. It was not something that could be done in stolen minutes at a public computer screen. She doubted even Master Trader yos’Galan could put together a profitable trade lot under such circumstances, though he might do well enough, given that he had so very much experience to inform him.

  Her odds of doing even well enough were vanishingly small under such conditions, though with the opportunity to study and peace enough to allow her imagination scope, she felt she might manage to not utterly embarrass herself.

  But all that was for later. Now, she must bring her mind to her next duty.

  She took a deep breath, centering herself, and stepped into the library just as the hour chimed.

  Waving her card at the reader, she saw that Lina was on the front desk, deep in consultation with Bonil Stemins, several screens open between them. She did not call a greeting, but turned her steps immediately to the Pet Library.

  Just inside, she paused, blinking, vaguely aware of the door closing behind her.

  Priscilla—her father’s lifemate, captain of the Dutiful Passage, dramliza—was standing by the garden enclosure where the norbears lived. It was, Padi owned, a shock, though she couldn’t think why it should be.

  Many people visited the Pet Library, after all. Pets soothed people, lowered stress, and increased optimism. This being a Korval ship, and one designed by her great-grandmother Master Trader Petrella who, according to Father, never did anything save there was a profit in it, there was a pet library on the Passage for a reason. Not all Korval ships had a pet library, not even all the major ships, though three carried norbears, and four others had large aquarium rooms. All Korval tradeships had a garden room, featuring flowering plants and shrubberies. Great-Grandmother Petrella must have seen profit in providing a pet library to her crew, as had the master traders that came after.

  Before this present scheduling adjustment, Padi had not herself been a frequent visitor to the Pet Library. She was busy, and while she liked the cats at home, she rarely felt their lack aboard ship. She might perhaps have come more often had there been cats, but cats and spaceships simply did not mix well. Cats did not care for Jump. They somehow knew when the ship had entered hyperspace, as if they were pilots sitting their boards, and would not be comforted until they were returned to normal space.

  That might not have been so bad—there were, after all, rumors of cats who were the hundredth generation on Family Ships, like the Wildes, the Smiths, and the Tragers, who had been flying Loops since before the arrival of Rostov’s Dust . . .

  Korval might, indeed, have bred a line of cats who did not object to Jump, but that would probably not cure them of their curiosity, or their ability to get into places where they really ought not to be.

  No, it had long been decided that cats and spaceships together were a disaster waiting to happen, and it was simply best not to take the risk.

  So, there were no cats in the Pet Library. There were, however, fish, snakes, and turtles; pidogs; gerblits . . .

  . . . and norbears.

  Truth told, Padi did not care overmuch for norbears. She found them aloof and distantly polite, as if, indeed, norbears—at least, those norbears populating the Pet Library aboard Dutiful Passage—did not care overmuch for Padi yos’Galans.

  Which was certainly fair enough.

  On those rare occasions when she had visited the Pet Library on her own behalf, she had contented herself, in the absence of cats, with the pidogs, who were cheerful, if foolish, and made no demands other than a floppy ear be properly addressed.

  Which was, of course, why she had been assigned particularly to the norbears.

  Her obligations to them consisted of making certain that they were thriving, cleaning up any messes they might have made—though in their favor, norbears were much tidier than pidogs—making certain that their greenery was in order, and also their waterfall, and replenishing the nutrient pellets as required.

  She was also to hold each one and talk to it. Norbears thrived on physical contact. She did the things required of her . . . punctiliously . . . and the norbears accepted her ministrations in the spirit in which they were offered.

  Now, here was Priscilla, standing by the enclosure, with the norbear named Master Frodo on her shoulder. One of his furry handlike paws was gripping a lock of Priscilla’s hair where it curled ’round her ear; in the other, he clutched a slice of apple.

  Priscilla’s face was angled downward, as if she were listening to some conversation the creature was whispering into her ear.

  Padi hesitated, uncertain if approaching would be an interruption—an intrusion. There was something . . . intimate in the scene before her, as if they were two old friends, telling over the points of their affection.

  As if she had heard Padi’s hesitation, which she may well have done, Priscilla raised her head and smiled.

  “Hello, Padi. I hope I’m not disrupting your schedule. I had a few uncommitted minutes, and I thought I’d revisit my roots, and Master Frodo, of course. I’d forgotten what a dreadful gossip he is!”

  She paused, head tipped slightly toward the norbear.

  “Yes, sir, you are a dreadful gossip!” she reiterated. “And you have been from our first meeting.”

  Padi was somewhat taken aback. She knew of course that norbears were functioning empaths who shared memory dreams with those who were able to understand them
. Padi could not see the norbears’ dreams, though it didn’t surprise her that Priscilla could. What did surprise her was the caressing tone; almost as if the little animal was speaking into her ear.

  “To be truthful,” she said, recovering herself and moving toward the enclosure, “you’re doing my work for me. I’m grateful.”

  Glancing at the feeding station, she considered the supply of nutrient pellets on offer. Probably the bowl ought to be topped up, though they were in no danger of starving. The norbears preferred greenery and seeds to the pellets which, indeed, they seemed to regard as emergency rations, to be held in case some tragedy rendered the real food rare.

  She reached for the bowl . . . and paused, looking over her shoulder.

  “Your roots?” she asked.

  “Exactly my roots,” Priscilla said with a grin. “This was my first duty station on the Passage. I was hired to be Pet Librarian.”

  Padi blinked.

  Lina, of course, had assistants in the library, including those who—as Padi now—tended the various residents of the Pet Library. But to have a Pet Librarian as a unique position . . .

  “It was your father, being a Healer,” Priscilla said, interrupting these thoughts. “I was badly in need of Healing by the time I found the Passage. So he put me into the care of the Librarian and ship’s Healer—and also into the care of the norbears. Master Frodo in particular took an interest in my case, and it was precisely what I needed.”

  Padi stared, recalling how the assignment to the Pet Library had appeared, with no notation . . .

  “Am I,” she said slowly, “in need of Healing? Because I will be plain—the norbears do not like me.”

  Priscilla’s eyebrows rose over black eyes.

  “Don’t they?” she said, and paused again as if she were listening to advice from the creature on her shoulder.

  “I see,” she said, and looked Padi in the eye. “They remember your wall, and while they see you no longer wear it, they don’t want to be shut out again. If they make an effort, they want it to be worth their time, you might say.”

  Padi eyed the little creature, who was nibbling energetically on his slice of apple.

  “Am I,” she said again, “in need of Healing?”

  Priscilla sighed lightly.

  “It’s no secret, I think,” she said, meeting Padi’s eye, “that you’re in need of Sorting.”

  “Sorting,” Padi repeated.

  “Norbears are particularly good at Sorting,” Priscilla said mildly. “They’re also amusing, if you don’t mind a tendency to gossip.”

  Padi frowned at the norbear. The apple was gone, and the creature met her eyes with an intelligent directness. There was a certain air of overdone innocence about it, rather like Father when he was pretending to pull a fast one.

  “Of course,” Priscilla continued, reaching to her shoulder and gathering Master Frodo close, “if you’re not inclined to make the connection, that’s up to you. Some people don’t like norbears, and as you’ve noted, they don’t warm to everyone. You’ll decide how much, or how little, you want to interact with them.”

  She bent and placed Master Frodo into the enclosure, pausing when the creature placed his handlike paw on her wrist.

  “Yes, I will tell her that,” she murmured. “Thank you. I’m glad we had time to visit.”

  She straightened and faced Padi.

  “Frodo asks me to tell you that they appreciate your care. He hopes, purely on his own part, that you won’t go back behind your wall. He says you’re much more attractive without it.”

  Padi took a breath. Attractive?

  Priscilla smiled slightly.

  “He does mention that you look underfed. I wouldn’t mind that, particularly; he’s been telling me the same thing for years.”

  She bowed her head. “I’m afraid duty calls. Thank you for your patience.”

  Padi watched her stride long-legged and graceful out of the Pet Library, the door closing gently behind her; sighed, and turned back to the norbear enclosure.

  She refilled the pellet bowl, made certain that nothing impeded the waterfall’s flow, raked the sand, trimmed away a dry stalk of vegetation, and added some fresh slices of carrot to the greens mix.

  Those tasks complete, she stood looking down into the enclosure, thinking.

  She was being Sorted—which the Healers at Millsapport had not been able to do—by norbears.

  The norbears in question were presently being social with each other, gathered in a loose circle on the sand, comfortably touching. Tiny and Delm Briat were sharing a leaf, while Master Frodo leaned companionably against Lady Selph, who appeared to be drowsing.

  “Well,” she said, addressing the group. “Since there seems to be some interest, I can tell you that I will not be rebuilding the closet. In retrospect, it was a singularly bad idea. Had I thought to seek counsel, it would very likely never have been built. Life was perilous, however, and informed counsel . . . difficult to achieve. It just . . . ”

  She raised her hands and let them fall.

  “ . . . it just seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  Feeling slightly foolish, she began to turn away—and turned back at the sound of what could only be described as a sharp command. Despite being somewhat high-pitched, the tone reminded Padi forcefully of her cousin Kareen.

  The norbear circle had broken. Tiny and Delm Briat were still placidly chewing on their leaf, but Master Frodo now sat a little apart, watching Lady Selph with interest.

  That one was standing on her hind legs a little forward of the other three, forearms raised. Padi was abruptly convinced that the norbear wished to be brought out of the enclosure. After all, it was part of her job to hold the norbears.

  There came another firm squeak, Lady Selph sounding more than a trifle annoyed with the slowness of Padi’s wit.

  Well, then.

  She bent, got a careful grip around the creature’s ample furry middle, and raised her gingerly, meaning to cradle her against a shoulder, as had become her custom. This move, however, earned her a sharp rebuke. Padi hesitated, and glanced back at the enclosure, where the remaining norbears were observing the proceedings intently.

  “All right then,” she said, and holding Lady Selph firmly, moved two steps to the end of the enclosure, and sat in the chair there. She put the creature on her knee, as if it were a cat, and received a rather surprising trill, as if she were being praised for having—finally—done something right.

  The next moment, the norbear squirmed, and Padi loosened the grip she’d kept around the creature’s middle, though she was not so foolish as to let her go.

  “What do you want?” Padi asked.

  Lady Selph abruptly came down on all four paws, adjusted herself for balance, and began to purr.

  It wasn’t quite a cat’s purr, thought Padi. This was more of a throaty hum, with trills interspersed—so very comforting. Much more comforting, in fact, than a cat’s purring, though she would be certain not to mention that to the cats at home.

  In fact, thought Padi, there was Paizel now, from home, and that—why, that was Fondi, though she wasn’t at all certain who that was, perhaps a cat had been added to the household while she was away. Jeeves did accept new applicants after careful screen—

  No, that wasn’t Jeeves, that was Father. Jeeves was . . . yes, that was Jeeves; indeed, yes, Father knew him well, Jeeves being the yos’Galan butler. And that was Aunt Anthora. Yes, of course Father knew her, too—his very sister! And Aunt Nova, his other sister, elder of Anthora—and Uncle Val Con—yes, that was Uncle Val Con, too, but much younger, doubtless when he was cabin boy on this very—

  And, oh, yes, that was Uncle Ren Zel, who had been first mate; lifemated now to Aunt Anthora—and that? Why, that was Master Trader Er Thom, Padi’s grandfather, and his lady, Thawlana Anne . . .

  There was a pause then, filled by the norbear’s trilling. Padi sighed, stirred—and stilled as another face appeared before her mind’s eyes.r />
  But this was not the comforting, familiar face of one of her kin. This face was . . . not quite civilized. Certainly, it was not Liaden, not with that scowl showing openly. She had never seen them before, and truly, she hoped they never met. In fact, the longer she considered the face—round and tan; with fierce mismatched eyes, one gold, the other black, and straight-set angry mouth—the more agitated she became, until all at once, she pulled on her power and thrust the intruder away with all the strength in her.

  She opened her eyes then, breathing hard and shivering somewhat as she met Lady Selph’s knowing bright gaze.

  * * *

  “Messages for you, Padi,” Hilfi Tawler said from behind the reference desk as Padi emerged from the Pet Library.

  “Thank you.”

  She slipped behind the desk, and input her comm code. There was only one message in-queue. From the master trader.

  I note that we both have some preparation to make as we approach Pommier. I wonder if we might agree to postpone our meeting this evening, and plan instead to have breakfast together in my office tomorrow. We may then usefully compare strategies for success at this new port.

  Padi felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. Yes, that was precisely what would do her the most good—as he would know.

  Your father being a Healer, she heard Priscilla say in the back of mind—but really, in this case, it was far more likely that the master trader was being pragmatic.

  She reached to the keyboard.

  I agree, she typed. A few hours to prepare myself would be most welcome. I look forward to speaking with you over breakfast.

  That done, she cleared the screen and set off at very nearly a run for her session with Cargo Master ira’Barti.

  II

  “Why,” Padi asked Lina when they met for their next session . . . “Why do the norbears care about who I know?”

  “It is how they shape the universe,” Lina answered. “They seek connections. Whom did you speak with?”