Probity didn't answer immediately reading his board archive. "You're right The accelerometers embedded in the ship showed a different reading on our 'Z' axis. We had a force pulling us down to the deck, but we had different readings on the side away from the deck. In effect a gradient to ease us down so we didn't bump. That was ramped just before contact so we didn't bump and then withdrawn over about three seconds to allow the present full force to hold us to the deck. That explains the slight elevator sensation we experienced. Damned if I have any idea how you'd do that."
"Nice of them not to sling us around," Fenton allowed. "Any radiation beyond the visible light?"
"Nothing hard. No radio... OK I'm getting a faint periodic pulse of infrared outside. Nothing that would bother you bare faced. I don't believe you'd even feel it."
"Any opinion what the purpose of it might be?" Fenton asked.
"No sir, no idea," Probity admitted.
"Sir, I have a thought, if I may?" Burt Wong, his XO offered.
"Certainly Mr. Wong. Commander Gordon has been trying to get me to be less formal. Please speak freely. We are not exactly in flight operations," he said with a rueful smile.
"I'm familiar with some systems that do exactly what Mr. Schlemmer is describing. I used to help my father install security systems that used just such pulses."
"Security systems?" Fenton asked.
"Yes, burglar alarms basically. I suspect this might be a bit more sophisticated, but I'd guess it is a sort of LIDAR that reads the position of everything in the hold and notes if anything moves."
"Sounds reasonable. They'd have an interest if we start moving around," the Captain said. Is there any atmosphere out there?"
"Not a bit sir. Not even a trace of lubricants that I expected," Probity said.
"They must use different antifriction tech," Wong suggested. He looked like he was going to say something and stopped, closing his lips and sitting back.
"You had a thought, Mr. Wong." It wasn't a question.
"I imagine we are leaking much more than them. They might not be sure what is leakage for environmental and what is leakage from systems. If as Burt mentioned we are leaking any lubricant traces they might think we like a little hydrocarbons or halogenated organics in our breathing air. I doubt they can detect any of the silicone stuff. It has really low vapor pressure. But I wonder if we gave them a sample if they might not put the hold under pressure for us?"
"How would you do that," Fenton asked. "Put out a suit reservoir for them to open?"
"No sir. I had a thought to cycle an airlock without pumping it down. I'd bet that they are watching the hold as closely as we are and likely with better tech."
"An interesting idea. We have ample reserves and can replenish them when fuel mining. Mr. Wong, have engineering bypass the safeties and do as you said on a small maintenance lock," he ordered. "I was contemplating sending a party out and that would make it much easier if they might be induced to supply atmosphere."
"Sir, what do you intend the party to do? Examine the hold surfaces?" Wong wondered.
"Not early on. Perhaps after some contact. I'm concerned it might seem intrusive. No Mr. Wong, we are on a for-profit mission. If we can we should trade with them," he reminded them.
* * *
"I'm sorry I missed you at first meal," Talker told her midday. "I had a lot of messages and calls because of the drama above."
"No problem. I was up before the sun and didn't eat with anybody else. I had one of my ration bars and went down to where I saw lights and people working already. I saw Amiable and got to drive a tractor to plant stuff."
"A tractor?" he asked, incredulous. "He actually let you drive it?"
"Yeah, you know, we put satellites up around a world and then you can carry a little unit no bigger than a phone that reads the distance from several of the satellites and tells you where you are. It's really handy because you can't get lost, and doing something like the planting you can follow a straight line across a field and space things out exactly really easily."
"How accurately?" Talker asked, skeptically.
"Most units will tell you right away where you are within a circle about as big as I am tall. If you spend a little more for a military grade reader it will be half that. After you have it on ten or fifteen seconds it averages out errors like multiple transmission paths through the atmosphere and will tell you where the unit is within about... " She held up her thumb and index finger spread apart.
"Something else to sell you," Talker quoted her.
"Yeah!"
"After a bite would you care to go shop in a little town nearby?" he offered.
"Oh yeah. I'd love to go in some shops. Anything crafty or jewelry or art. Is there a bank that would trade me for some local money?"
"Metals?"
"Yes, silver and a little gold."
"I'm sure they will, for a small fee of course."
"Of course," Lee agreed.
Chapter 24
"We have some pressure slowly building up outside. It looks like nitrogen right now," Probity said. "It's still a pretty good vacuum but there is definitely some nitrogen. If they have a good read on our air mix why would they bring pressure up so slowly?" he wondered.
"I would think because we are obviously not an atmospheric landing craft," Captain Fenton told him. "If being in pressure could be in any way harmful to our vessel we have time to make adjustments or raise a fuss with them. The same as our low gravity is probably because we don't have landing jacks. I'd glad we have a pretty clean hull. If they'd picked the Retribution it has so much junk grappled on the hull I don't think you could sit it on a surface without crushing something expensive."
"I'm getting some oxygen and helium now," Probity reported
"I bet they substituted that for xenon. We started the voyage with plain old planetary atmosphere from Fargone which had more xenon than Earth air. So they probably saw traces and wondered why. Argon is the noble gas more common in Earth air. I'll be surprised if they add any carbon dioxide or water vapor," Fenton noted.
"May one ask how you intend to trade with no common language?" Burt Wong asked.
"I'll lay a blanket on the deck and put items on our side, each sitting on a sheet of paper. On the other side of the blanket I'll put three sheets of paper for them to sit an offering in trade. It's worked for people who share no language before. I'll be surprised if they don't understand given their use of images already."
"What if they don't understand our intent and take it all as a gift, offering nothing?" Wong asked.
"Then we smile and accept that we have furthered interstellar brotherhood by our gifts," Fenton said with a shrug. "But we don't offer another round either."
"What would you offer, sir?" Probity asked.
"A few coins from the ship's safe. Perhaps they'll figure out it's our money. I'm not sure what else. Suggest what we can spare from ship's stores, or if anyone has any personal trade goods they'd like to try. It's open for volunteers," he offered.
* * *
"The pressure is up to where you could go out with a mask. They are bringing it up so slow. I bet if we go out they'll take it as a signal and stop raising the pressure," Probity predicted.
"Let's not rush out then," Captain Fenton counseled. "The level it's at now would be very stressful. I've been on high mountains on Fargone and even with oxygen you can't perform at your normal levels. It's tiring and it affects one's judgment too."
"I've walked around at eighteen kilopascal pressure before," Wong said, "but I wasn't actually working, just strolling slowly. Some of the group I was with got sick. A few threw up even."
"And Fargone runs near three percent more oxygen than Earth," Fenton reminded him. "No, let them get it up around forty kilopascal before we go out."
"We have a wool bunk blanket and four trade items waiting at the lock," Wong informed them.
"We use real wool blankets?" Fenton asked. "I detest those things. I can tell you there isn'
t one in my cabin. Who gets stuck with those scratchy things?"
"About a third of the men actually request them, Captain. It was on a list of preferences common crew all filled out. A lot of people don't like synthetics. The good quality ones are of combed wool and very tightly woven. They aren't scratchy at all," Wong insisted.
"Even so, I couldn't have all those sheep on my conscience," Fenton told him. He managed to keep a straight face until Wong looked at him sharply, then he grinned. Humor in their captain was something new and would require some adjustment.
"What do you have to put out, Mr. Wong?"
"A few gold coins, an equal number of silver coins. I don't want to hint at which we find more valuable. Mr. Dawson from engineering volunteered a large format printed photo book of Ireland of which he has gotten tired. Mr. Lee has volunteered a jade carving of a Buddha. I have a suggestion if you would consider it. The Badgers gave us samples of their gravity plates. These people obviously have much better technology of this sort. I propose putting the sample Gordon dispersed to our ship out there and see if they offer a superior form to show us why our primitive sort is not of interest."
"Perhaps it would be better not to try to sell it to them," Probity suggested. "After they examine it they may be irritated if it is junk in their eyes. Set it out but to the side of the blanket. Perhaps with something obviously broken as a hint."
"Housekeeping has several extra replacement vases for those they use for decoration in the better cabins and the mess," Wong said. "They have them just because they are breakable. Bust one sufficiently to show it is defective but not shattered beyond telling what it was and put it out with the gravity plate."
"But broken glazed pottery is razor sharp. I don't want to put something out that might cut someone. It doesn't even sound safe for our crew to handle putting it out there," Fenton worried.
"The galley has a number of clear plastic food containers for things like bread and to thaw frozen hash browns. I've seen them. Lay a vase in one and just smack it on the floor sealed up. I'm sure it will crack and no further handling will be needed," Probity said.
"And excellent idea," Fenton agreed. "Make it happen please, Mr. Wong."
* * *
"Are you taking me to the same bank you use?" Lee asked Talker in the ground car.
"I thought about it last night and asked my father what would be best for you. We think we can do better than the bank. He reminded me he has a small collection of old and novel coins and suggested coins from a whole new group of other species would be more valuable as collectibles than just the value of the metal. The bank would certainly charge a fee to convert them. A coin dealer should pay you a premium for them instead."
"That's a marvelous idea. I haven't lived on a planet enough to be aware of all the little niche markets in an economy." She got in her bag and rummaged around, looking at one coin critically and trading it for another. One she put in her shirt pocket. "Here, these are the three kinds of coins I have. Please give them to your father for his collection as a thank you for the suggestion."
Talker glanced at the coins she dumped in his hand, but put them in a pocket because he was driving the car manually. "I'm sure he'll be very pleased, thank – you," he said awkwardly. The abbreviated phrase didn't seem to come naturally yet.
* * *
"OK, we have 40 kPa," Probity said. "May I tell security to put the trade goods out, sir?"
"Yes, we didn't discuss it yet, but I want this on a voluntary basis, and just two men. I don't want a mob out there and I don't want long guns. The second man will stand back and observe as the other lays everything out. Then they'll come in to encourage the aliens to come examine the goods. He may have a pistol in a holster but I want you to pick somebody calm and reliable," he ordered. "We are basically at their mercy anyway."
"Are you concerned they may take off with us like the Biters?" Probity asked.
Both Wong and Fenton looked sharply at each other. Wong started to open his mouth and clamped it back shut abruptly and nodded at Fenton to indicate it was his privilege to speak.
"Mr. Schlemmer, I do not wish to upset you, but in all likelihood we have already been whisked away. There is no telling how many star systems we may be removed from the Badger's planet by now given the performance we have seen these vessels display."
Schlemmer did a real face palm, not for dramatic effect but in real shock. "Of course, if they can control setting us down so delicately, we wouldn't feel them move, would we?" he finally realized.
"Indeed, it is a new thing, contrary to all our experience," Fenton admitted to soften it. "Mr. Wong see to it we have a camera on the area where they are laying out the goods and make sure it is being recorded. If you might manage a couple different angles on the view that would be good too."
* * *
The Badger coin dealer had a very small shop and one assistant. Just outside the door Talker took her hand and held it until he'd informed the owner what sort of business they intended. They were invited to sit at a long narrow table with just two chairs on each side. There were a few soft pads on which to place things and a couple small lamps with no cord and a shaded spotlight head that could be directed by bending a gooseneck.
There were quite a few coins displayed in little framed mounts on the walls. There were also some clear display cases with what Lee presumed passed as art. A few were small statues, a bowl that appeared to be carved out of stone, and something that was probably a musical instrument. It looked something like a big banjo with a short neck, something she'd never really seen except in music videos.
The assistant went for tea for the Badgers with a separate pot of hot water for Lee to make her own coffee. She had a few packets of instant in her pocket with a couple ration bars in case they were delayed returning to Talker's place. The dealer picked up the empty packet and sniffed at it.
"It is safe for Badgers if you'd like to try it," she offered. "Most Badgers seem to find it too bitter and prefer it with a little syrup."
A few words sent the assistant off to fetch the sweetener. He was brave enough to try it plain first and made a little face. "Yes it is too strong for me. Quite a different flavor though." He added the golden syrup and stirred it thoroughly before trying it. "I'm afraid it must be an acquired taste," he decided.
"It is. But I fear I've done already so," Talker told him. "It's bad to have a taste for star goods. It will remain horribly expensive even if we have a regular trade."
"But next time I come here, or at least send someone, I'll make sure we have coffee to plant and grow your own. Chances are it'll grow here if some bug or blight isn't fond of it too. It's picky about micro-climate however. On Earth it grows on mountainsides. Not too high or too low, but only really thrives in a certain band and range of temperature and rainfall."
"Wouldn't it be more profitable to keep its growth exclusive so there remains a high value market for the beverage?" the shopkeeper asked,
"Not for long," Lee told him. "Somebody would eventually get some seed or cuttings and smuggle them no matter how hard you tried to control it. I'm not going to grub after, uh... What do you call coins of very low value in Trade? I'd say pennies in English."
"Dint," the dealer supplied, "the word is the same in Trade and Badger."
"A Din is a bigger coin," Talker supplied, "and most of the time a 'T' sound is the, uh... diminutive," he said in English after consulting his com pad. "But not as consistently in Trade as in Badger."
"Just borrowed Badger words?" Lee asked.
"Exactly," Talker agreed.
The dealer got up while Talker was speaking and approached the wall with all the small framed items. He pointed a small device from his pocket at one of the containers and brought it back to the table. How it worked wasn't obvious, but the wall appeared blank where he removed it. Lee found that interesting. He sat again and slid the container across the table to her.
"This is an older Dint. You won't find them in circulation as mone
y now. It's sought by collectors for the design. It's my gift to you," he said plainly.
"Thank you," Lee said examining the container as much as the coin. It was a burnished metal frame with no corner seams, about fifty millimeters square. The metal edge was quite narrow and a transparent pane of some material was recessed on each side. If you looked closely the coin was located in the center by being in another sheet of transparent material with a hole.
"How can you open it up? Or can you without damaging it?" she wondered.
"Certainly," he got a soft cloth out of his pocket and laid on one of the pads. "One edge is marked," he said," pointing at two barely perceivable dots, no more than fly specks at opposite ends of one side. He grasped that side of the frame and the opposite, pulling. "You don't need a lot of force, but you have to maintain a pull for several seconds." The marked edge came loose and with it the center pane with the coin slid out dropping the coin on the cloth. He picked it up with the cloth, not touching it, and presented it to Lee. She didn't see how her fingers would hurt it. The coin had a dark brown patina, but she went along with his custom. The design on one side was a Badger head in profile but the other side was a complex design of curves and swirls she could not place as any real object.
"I lack a reference to know what this depicts," she admitted.
"Oh, yes if you'd never seen one it might just appear an abstraction," the dealer admitted. "It's a rather large showy flower," he said, her pad supplying the new word in English. "It was the emblem of a prominent clan and then the logo of their trading company. You'll still see it on packaged products and the front of their offices and stores."
"So then the Badger is the head honcho for the clan or company?" Lee asked.
After the computer sorted that out the storekeeper agreed. "Yes, but about six generations back."
"Hah, the computer just filled my whole screen with synonyms," Talker said amused. "The Big Wheel, President, Main Man, Big Cheese, El Jeffe, Boss, CEO, Magnate, Godfather, Director," he read off a few. He blinked a few times and looked at Lee hard. "So many of these... I don't know how to say it," he said, frustrated. "They don't make sense. I feel there is an attitude behind them."
Family Law 2: The Long Voyage of the Little Fleet Page 38