Trader's Honour

by Patty Jansen

  The craft had emptied and now the new passengers could get on. Mikandra followed the others across the cracked paving, up the ramp and into the craft.

  A polite crew member—Kedrasi—collected her bag at the entrance and took it to the luggage compartment at the back.

  Mikandra found her seat right at the front of the craft. A Damarcian with the Masterbuilders' logo on his tunic sat next to her and gave her a polite nod. He pulled out a reader. The screen displayed plans and maps.

  Mikandra did up the harness with sweaty hands. It was stupid and embarrassing, but she wasn't going to admit that this was her first anpar flight. While she was wearing the Trader Guild uniform, no one would believe her anyway.

  The doors shut and the ventilation system came on.

  With a burst of power from the downward jets, the craft lifted off the ground.

  Both suns had cleared the horizon and cast a golden glow over the masses of rainforest at the top of the escarpment. The land looked like some giant had pushed the top layer of rock off the marshlands and onto the highlands. The terrain rippled like a curtain pushed to the side. Mist clung to the treetops in the valleys, still in slumber, sheltered from sunlight. The forest stretched out towards the east as far as she could see, but she knew that the border with Miran wasn't that far away. In Bendara, people considered the wild forest from Barresh an ugly invasion of their farm land. Mikandra thought it was beautiful.

  From there, the land sloped up and up, coming first to Bendara with its patchworks of fields and many roads. Further up again were the large grain fields that were the driving engine of the Mirani export to Asto. Further east, the land rose above the tree line, and this was the country of the huge tiyuk herds and their nomadic minders. Above that, there was only highland vegetation, ground-hugging plantlets and in the right season, snow. On the eastern side of the capital, the land dropped again to the gorges which fed rivers that tumbled off the eastern escarpment, an even more massive break line with cliffs so high that the smaller waterfalls evaporated before they reached the bottom.

  The Mirani continent bore hallmarks of an extremely violent geological past, which had thrust the centre section of the plate up.

  It was also incredibly beautiful, and as the land receded under her, Mikandra knew that there was not a planet in all of the settled worlds more beautiful and diverse than Ceren.

  The detail of the ground receded, and the clouds over the forest became little white puffs. The shuttle flew in broad circles so that it would stay over Barresh terrain. At times sunlight came into the window, casting double-edged shadows in ever-increasing sharpness.

  Slowly, the sky turned dark with a brilliant azure blue over the horizon. From up here, the curve was obvious and then she could a glimpse of the massive polar ice cap. Crew in the cabin walked around inspecting for loose items and seatbelts. They already wore their harnesses over their uniforms. They were handing out pillows to secure passenger's heads in the headrest.

  The jump was near.

  It was only a single jump to Kedras, along a single anpar line. She'd seen those lines at the Exchange, massive fluxes of energy that linked up one point in the galaxy with another.

  The businessman next to her looked at his hands in his lap. Clearly, not everyone was relaxed with the process of Exchange transfer, when whatever object was the focus of the anpar lines would be disassembled in one place and re-assembled at the other end. It was best not to think of all the things that could go wrong with this process.

  A white light started flashing at the front of the cabin, counting down to the jump. People fell silent.

  Then a red light flashed as well.

  Three . . . two . . . one . . .

  Everything went white.

  Mikandra floated in nothing-ness. She had no hands and no eyes to look at her body.

  When her vision re-assembled, everything around her had a rainbow-hued aura. Slowly, the discordant colours overlapped and her vision returned to normal.

  The crew were already walking around. Maybe in a year or so she, too, would have become used to this process.

  The craft's engine hummed steadily. Outside the window was the bright azure glow of the atmosphere. A single yellow sun.

  Kedras was smaller than Ceren but orbited closer to the sun. Most of the planet's land was red-burnished desert but while also quite cool, there were lush oases with azure rivers and green ribbons of forest and cultivated fields. Little specks of settlements dotted the valleys.

  The shuttle turned and she could already see the huge complex that was the Trader Guild headquarters. It was a giant glass-and-metal building, surrounding the airport on three sides. Part of it was a shared airport facility, for the inter-connected townships that dotted the green delta, but most of the building was off-limits to non-Traders.

  Nerves returned. She had read that the court rooms were accessible to all Traders, and right now, she hoped with all her might that her status as apprentice was enough to let her into that inner sanctum.

  Chapter 30

  The shuttle touched down not much later. Passengers started moving around as soon as the downward jets cut out and the craft sank on its landing gear.

  The doors opened and let fresh and dry air into the cabin. A bit like Miran but not as cold.

  From the cabin, passengers left the craft over a raised walkway that slowly sloped to the building, a huge glass façade that reflected the deep blue sky and the pavement with its neat pattern of signals and lines.

  Mikandra peered at the section on the other side of the space enclosed by the building's two arms. This area was a gaggle of small craft that extended past the wing of the building. All of them carried the Trader Guild symbol. Each licence holder had their own designated area, a neatly-painted square on the pavement, with broad laneways for manoeuvring and landing craft.

  People rode in open-cabin carriages or walked to and from the building.

  Mikandra spotted a couple of the almost black Mirani craft, but no clear indication which one—or two—belonged to the Andrahar brothers.

  One of the main reasons Kedras had been chosen for the Trader Guild headquarters was that the climate was very reliable and business days lost to closure due to weather were almost non-existent.

  In the hall, many people gathered, waiting for their flights or waiting for arriving passengers. There were numerous stairwells leading from the hall into other parts of the building. Signs in the Trader dialect of Coldi pointed to various services. Passenger office, freight office, tickets.

  This place was massive. She had tried to calculate the time, but her only approximation was that the court session was this morning. Depending on the local time—and what was that?—it might have already started. There were so many signs, so many of them in Kedrasi, which she didn’t read. She was still in the public area of the building.

  "Excuse me, do you know where the court room is?" she asked a woman who looked like she worked in the hall.

  "The court?" She spoke Coldi with a strong accent.

  "The Trader court."

  "Ah." Then a frown at her uniform. "The Trader section is the wing on the other side." She pointed out the window, across the airport.

  "How do I get there from here? As quickly as possible."

  The woman pointed her to an exit to the hall that led into a wide corridor where the glass wall that looked over the central airport made up the right hand side. The doors on the left-hand side led to offices. It was not very busy here, so Mikandra walked as fast as her sore ankle allowed. She had to stop when she became too out-of-breath. The air at Kedras was thin, resembling Miran but not quite as cold. After living in the soup of Barresh, she wasn't used to it anymore.

  Through the window, she spotted someone outside between the parked aircraft walking in the same direction she was going. Someone in a khaki uniform with silver hair. It didn't look like Rehan or Braedon. She wasn't sure about Taerzo, but now the man had vanished again behind an aircraft.

>   Mikandra kept walking and the man continued as well. She slowed and he slowed, too, hidden from view behind another aircraft.

  Crap. Someone following her?

  She stopped altogether and peered at the busy section of the Trader craft area outside the window. People walked past the window and stood talking. Colours were bright and shadows sharp in the clear air. Various types of refuelling robots trundled over the paths between the lots. The Mirani man was nowhere to be seen.

  Maybe he just happened to walk fast in the same direction. And she had other things to worry about.

  At the end of the corridor, she came to a foyer with at a glass wall at the far end. A pair of sliding doors had the Trader Guild emblem engraved. They slid aside at Mikandra's approach.

  In this hall, there was a second glass partition with sliding doors. Next to those doors, a woman in the carmine Trader Guild uniform sat behind a desk of which the top entirely consisting of screens. She was talking to someone via her earpiece, and when Mikandra came in, she looked up and cut off the conversation. She nodded at Mikandra.

  "The entrance to the apprentice accommodation is on the far side of the building."

  "I'm here because I need to deliver something to the court."

  "The court is in session."

  "I know. I need to deliver evidence."

  "Do I have your name on the attendants list?"

  "I'm Mikandra Bisumar, for the Andrahar Traders."

  The woman trailed her finger over one of the screens. "I can't see your name here."

  "Please, I have very important information," Mikandra said. She was sweating under her tunic. She hadn't come all the way here only to be stopped by bureaucracy. She was going to get into that court room. "The court sessions are open to all members." Beyond the desk and the shoulder-height partition, in one of three corridors that led from the hall, she could see a sign that said Main Court Room.

  "That's true, but you need to have registered, because the number of seats in the room are limited. I'm afraid the session is booked out."

  "I'm not a spectator. I carry extremely important information." She had to stop herself from shouting. "All right, I don't need to go in myself if someone can take it in for me." Although she didn't want to let go of the letter, she'd do it if there was no other way.

  The door slid open again behind her and someone else came in. The woman glanced at this person and quickly looked away.

  A young male voice said, "Well, look at who we have here."

  Mikandra turned around. Thaeron Tussamar. The Mirani Trader she had seen outside?

  He gave her a cultured smile that felt as fake as it looked. "You've changed a lot since I last saw you. I hardly recognise you. You caused a pretty big fuss in Miran by disappearing. Your poor father doesn't know what to do with himself."

  "Sorry, I don't have time to chat." Mikandra turned to the woman. "Please, let me through."

  The woman just stood there, staring from one to the other. A look of horror came over her face. Somewhere in the Trader manual there was a section about employees of the Guild having to maintain absolute neutrality in disputes between Traders.

  "What's this?" Thaeron said. "If you want the Mirani apprentices to treat you well for the next four years, you can't afford to be rude to anyone."

  An Asto Trader, in maroon and blue came into the hall. The woman pressed an orange square on one of the screens. The partition door slid aside, letting him through.

  Mikandra said to Thaeron, "I don't mean to be rude, but I'm in an extreme hurry. I need to get into the court room."

  "I've registered, I can take whatever you need to have taken inside." He held out his hand.

  Oh no, he wouldn't.

  "I'd rather do it myself." Mikandra clutched her bag to her chest. There was no way she'd let him touch the letter from Iztho.

  His expression hardened. "If you're going to be like that, you won't last long here. I can guarantee—"

  Mikandra turned to the woman at the desk. "Please, I need to get in, now."

  Thaeron said, "Let an employee deal with it. That's why they're here. They can still get in even if the court is closed. Why don't I show you the apprentice accommodation. You can meet the others. Many of them have already arrived." He grabbed her arm.

  It triggered memories of her father grabbing her in the same place and dragging her off somewhere she didn't want to go, yelling in her ear to behave herself while the nails on his fingers dug into the soft skin of her underarm.

  Mikandra acted without thinking. She twisted her arm. He clearly had no experience in restraining naughty little sisters and lost his grip. Mikandra lunged over the desk, and slammed her hand at the orange square. The doors opened and she ran through. Ouch, her ankle wasn't up to running.

  Thaeron yelled, "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

  His footsteps thudded behind her. He had not ordered the woman to contact security. Mikandra had been right. He was desperate to stop the information reaching the court room. Did this mean that he had tampered with the log file of the Miran Exchange? She heard Antho Tussamar's voice If you have a problem with your gadgetry, my nephew here will fix it.

  Mikandra ran. Pain spiked through her ankle with every step.

  The sign that said Main Court Room, however, merely pointed into a corridor.

  She charged in, past many doors. Most were closed but every now and then, one was open and she glimpsed the office inside.

  The carpet muffled her footsteps. She couldn't hear Thaeron anymore, but he was sure to be behind her. She didn't dare look, because she might trip. Her ankle was going to give in.

  There was a marble-pillared foyer at the end of the corridor, and at the far end of that, two heavy wooden doors. That had to be the court room.

  Mikandra ran past a door the very moment it opened. She almost ran into the Guild employee who came out. He uttered a startled noise. Mikandra tripped. Someone screamed, and there was a huge flash behind her.

  Mikandra dropped to the carpet. She hid her head under her arms while purple spots danced in her visions. The corner of the book poked her painfully in the ribs. An alarm went off.

  Doors opened. People came into the corridor.

  A man yelled in Kedrasi over the wailing of the alarm.

  Mikandra pushed herself up. Someone dressed in red lay face-down on the ground at the door where she'd almost crashed into the employee. Two people bent over him, one trying to undo the man's shirt. Another man was stomping out a fire on the carpet.

  A male voice yelled, "Stop him! Stop him!"

  A lot of people ran down the corridor towards the foyer. There were sounds of yelling, and a crash.

  The alarm stopped wailing.

  "Are you all right?" A woman asked Mikandra.

  Mikandra looked up into her spotted Kedrasi face. She whispered, "He shot at me." And hit the poor man who'd walked unsuspecting out of his office instead. Her ears were still ringing.

  She tried to get up but her ankle wouldn't cooperate. Ouch.

  "Take it easy. A medico will be here soon," the woman said.

  "No time." Mikandra got on her uninjured foot and heaved her bag back onto her shoulder. "I have to go to the court room." Ouch, her ankle.

  "Miss, stay down. You need medical attention."

  "No. I am here for the court. My ankle can wait."

  "You are not allowed in once the session has started."

  "I'm going in anyway. I haven't come all this way for nothing."

  She took a couple of hobbling, uncertain steps. Every time she tried to put weight on her foot, pain spiked up her leg. It felt like she had broken something, but she had to keep going.

  People around her backed off. Most of them were Guild employees, who lined up on both sides of the corridor.

  Mikandra took one step, and then another one and another one, mostly hopping on her good leg. She arrived at the courtroom door and pushed down the handle. I creaked badly. The door was so heavy that she ha
d to use her whole weight to open it.

  The room was packed. One of the court judges at the long table at the far end of the room had been speaking, but fell silent. Many in the audience looked over their shoulders. Almost all of them were Traders in a riot of uniform colours.

  Whispers went around the room. Mikandra could almost feel the meaning of their words. What is she doing here? Who let her in? Can someone please alert the guards?

  An employee in red scurried to the door. "Miss, you are not allowed to come in here. You should wait outside—"

  The judge, a stern-looking Damarcian Trader in her dark blue uniform rang her bell. "Silence!" She met Mikandra's gaze with her black-rimmed yellow eyes. "What is the meaning of this? Who let you in? This court is for Traders only."

  "I'm an apprentice." Mikandra glanced at her uniform. Big splatters of blood marked the front. What? She raised her hand to her face and it came away covered in blood. There was a cut in her cheek. She must have cut herself when she ducked for cover. Well, that explained the stares.

  "I have travelled from Barresh, and have risked everything to get here in time." She raised her voice, and everyone in that room stared at her. Where were the brothers? "I've been kicked out of my home, lived in poverty. I've been robbed and just now, shot at, all in name of this case and my determination to prove injustice. I have important evidence that will change this case, and I'm here to present it to the judges. Anyone who tries to stop me will be accused of trying to obscure the truth."

  A wide aisle sloped gently towards the far end of the room and the desk where the judges sat.

  Mikandra hobbled down while everyone in that room watched her. There had to be at least five hundred Traders in that room, all of them from the most influential licence holders. No one spoke. Her progress was slow with her ankle.

  Her eyes met those of Aunt Amandra in the crowd, wide and horrified.

  She reached the judges' table and bowed as far as her ankle allowed her. "Your honour. My name is Mikandra Bisumar. I am an apprentice of the Andrahar Traders."

  She spotted Antho Tussamar in the audience. He was looking not at her, but at the door she had left open. His expression was worried. Wondering where his nephew was?