Tessa shook her head in frustration. Once again she had to make decisions without enough information. “What kind of danger?”
“Our use of this information will cut into the profits of others.”
“I’ve always believed in a free market.” Still Tessa hesitated. “Will this information affect Rystan?”
A negative came through the link. “However, the Endekians, Cytons and Rangoji will not be pleased. They have kept this information from us for centuries.”
“So how did I end up with it?” Tessa asked Dora.
“I purchased in bulk,” Dora explained. “Vast quantities of economic data came in, and I pared it down to the essentials. The information came from a variety of sources, each person believing their piece was common knowledge. The Osarians can’t do the same thing. Too many aliens refuse to deal with them.”
That’s terrible. “Dora, how lucrative are these contracts?”
“Traders charge a standard rate of two percent of all transported cargo. Profit depends upon the number of contracts and volume of business. The Osarians are a very enterprising and hard-working race.”
“Will I break any laws by selling this information?” Tessa asked both Dora and the Osarian.
“No, dear,” Dora replied, “you’d only break an unwritten law of discrimination.”
“I would never ask a friend to break a law.” The Osarian’s voice came through flat, but from the link Tessa sensed she might have insulted her new friend.
“Forgive me, please,” Tessa said. “I’m new to Federation ways and must gather all the data I can before making this decision.”
“I understand.” Osari sent more warmth through the link.
Tessa wondered if the emotions he sent could influence her judgment. Yet, she didn’t release his tentacle and return to verbal communication. “Osari, how much will you pay for the information?”
“Five million credits.”
Tessa whistled in appreciation at the size of the generous offer. She had bought the information for less than one million that afternoon. Yet, still she hesitated. Azrel had told her that she couldn’t keep credits in her name, and she’d assumed if she didn’t spend the funds Kahn could take them after they arrived on Rystan. However, if she had a source of income and she kept her credits on other worlds, she could protect her assets—especially if Kahn didn’t know about her side business.
Although Tessa fully intended to make her marriage work, if it didn’t, she wanted the means to return to Earth. This might be her chance to give herself a way to escape Kahn—one she hoped she’d never need. She’d already known that Kahn would put his people’s needs before his own, but since she’d learned how his grandfather had lied to him, how his father’s affection had been withheld, she couldn’t help being proud of the man he’d become. Although she and Kahn had had a rough start to their marriage, he was coming around. He’d made many concessions, letting her train for the Challenge as a man, listening to her opinion about his father, and she was certain she’d won a measure of his respect. Besides, the wondrous psi link when they made love was simply indescribable.
“Why don’t we barter?” Tessa bargained. “I’ll trade you the information for partial ownership in your venture.”
“You wish to be our partner?” Osari asked. Through the link, he sent astonishment. Apparently no humans had ever wished to go into a partnership with an Osarian.
“Yes,” Tessa said firmly, instinctively sure she had made the correct decision.
“I am unprepared for such an honor.”
She’d shocked the normally serene Osarian into confusion.
“Friend Osari, have I offended you in some way?” Tessa asked as jumbled emotions flooded the tentacle linkage, dazing her.
“I must contact my home planet with your offer. Osari does not have the authority to accept. May I please use your communications vidscreen?” Osari requested.
“Help yourself.”
Tessa broke the link but not before learning that the Osarian was even more isolated on Zenon that she’d imagined. Osari hadn’t just sent emotions through the link but information about his people. The Osarians used telepathy among themselves and often linked many minds together, enjoying a vast communal “thinking pot” that she had difficulty expressing in words. Osari could function as an individual, but he preferred to be part of a group and with his own kind.
The link didn’t take long. Osari slithered back to her and placed a tentacle in her palm. “They’ve agreed,” Osari told her exuberantly. “We’re partners. At first, my people were just as shocked by your proposal as I was, but now the entire planet will celebrate.”
“As will I—in private.”
“Here is our contract.” Osari handed Tessa a shiny disk that Dora scanned and quickly translated. Tessa was a fifty percent partner of all Interstellar-Osarian trade agreements negotiated by an Osarian that used the data she’d supplied. Tessa was to provide the current information she’d acquired, plus updates, if she could still obtain them. She signed the contract, provided a thumb print and retinal scan, and recorded her copy of the contract in Dora’s memory banks.
As Tessa, Dora, and Osari worked out the practical details into the early hours of the morning, Tessa fought to stay awake with coffee. Osari would personally oversee one-third of her credits, one-third would be sent to Rystan, and one-third sent to a bank account on Zenon. In addition, she and Dora modified an encrypted communication system so Dora could contact the Osarian wherever he might be in this quadrant of the galaxy—without using the spaceship’s network.
Satisfied and exhausted with her new business arrangement, Tessa hugged Osari good-bye. His cold slimy tentacles left her covered with ooze, but her suit automatically cleaned up the mess. Her eyes burned dryly from sleeplessness, and she felt empty and drained, yet jazzed about this new venture, too. Despite her caffeine induced coffee buzz, she was so tired, her nerves throbbed. Bone-weary with fatigue, Tessa wished she could activate her null-grav and sleep on a cushion of air.
However, without Kahn there to float her, she simply lay on the floor, closed her eyes, and fell into an immediate sleep. It seemed only moments until Kahn shook her awake.
She didn’t want to open her eyes, but he kept shaking her. When she ignored him, he clasped her shoulders and yanked her to her feet. She opened her eyes and then wished she hadn’t. Kahn glared at her, his expression fierce, his jaw tensed, the cords of muscles in his neck bulged with tension.
“What? What’s wrong?” She’d never seen him this angry and would have taken a step back—except he held her up in the air, rage twisting his mouth into a tense, grim line. Only once before had his anger come close to this kind of fury, after she’d stolen the shuttle. Although she knew he would never strike her, fear shot up her throat and made her mouth dry as the Zenon desert.
“Tell me there’s been a mistake,” he ordered. “Tell me that you didn’t spend all the credits.”
Chapter Fourteen
TESSA LICKED her bottom lip. “The Zenonite gave those credits to me.”
Kahn lowered his voice to a chilling timbre that would have sent his bravest men scurrying for cover. “In one night, you spent one million credits? Have you any idea what you’ve done?”
He’d returned to their quarters after spending an emotion-packed night with his father. He’d learned the lie his grandfather had told Corban to keep him away from Rystan. Learned that Kahn had not been abandoned and unloved, but that his father hadn’t returned because he’d been told his family was dead. The old man had sacrificed his own son for the well being of their people, and while Corban had apparently forgiven him, Kahn couldn’t. Yet, he couldn’t seek revenge or even rage against the dead. His grandfather had died a decade ago during a hunting accident, leaving Kahn with nothing but his fury and grief—especially for his mother. She had died believing that Corban had left her for Azrel, when in truth he’d believed her to be dead.
For years, Kahn had resent
ed Azrel for taking his father from them. He’d done his best to banish all warm memories of his father from his mind. All because of his grandfather’s lies.
Full of disappointment and sadness over blood betrayals, Kahn had returned, only to find out about another betrayal—by his wife.
“The Zenonite told me those credits were mine to spend.” Tessa spoke with a composure that simply added fuel to the fire blazing inside him.
Rage spiked and his temper boiled over. All his plans to help his people crashed and splattered like a dying prey’s lifeblood on new-fallen snow. But even in his fury, he shouldered part of the blame. He should have stayed with her.
He spit out his words with a harshness he rarely employed. “You didn’t just buy new dishes. You spent a fortune. And I doubt even wives on Earth exhaust that kind of credit without consulting their husbands. Does our marriage mean nothing to you? Did you not think those funds should have been shared? I planned to buy food to feed our starving people with those funds,” he told her.
If she had any sense, she’d cower, back away, leave him to tame his demons. But he’d bet that she’d never backed down in her defiant life, and she didn’t start now.
Bold as ever, she flung her hair back over her shoulder and raised her chin. “How was I supposed to know your plans? I cannot read your mind.”
“Perhaps not. But I expected you to use common sense. You spent all the credit?”
She nodded, a measure of regret in her beautiful eyes.
She needed to know what her willfulness had done and what it would cost his people. “Rystani men, women, and children will starve this winter. Now many people will not just go hungry, they will die.”
Her voice softened. “Kahn, I am so sorry.” She lifted her hand to stroke his cheek.
He knocked her hand away, too angry to pay attention to the slice of pain in her eyes.
He glared at her. “I must leave you alone again while I go implore the Zenon bankers for a loan. Spend the time practicing your psi. You will not leave this room. You will not use the communications device. And you will not talk to your computer.”
“Why not?”
“Because you need to think about what you’ve done. And giving you freedom leads to trouble. Did you think I would not find out that you escaped in the shuttle with the help of the computer?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You knew?”
“I thought if I bent the rules and allowed you to talk to the computer, you would adjust more rapidly.” When she didn’t argue, he held out his hand. “Give me the earrings.”
Her hands trembled, but she took off the communication devices and gave them to him. “I would never have spent those credits if I’d known you needed them to feed your people.”
It was too late for her apologies. “Your regret won’t keep my people alive.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Tell that to the children whose bellies will swell with hunger this winter. Tell that to the pregnant women who will lose the children they carry in their wombs. Tell that to our old people who grow too weak to care for themselves.”
Her face whitened and red stained her cheeks but no tears fell upon her cheeks. No sobs choked up her throat. Before he shook her harder than he intended, he released her. She landed lightly on her feet, her knees flexed to absorb the sudden drop.
She should have known better than to question him, but obviously she did not. Staring him full in the face, she rubbed her arms where his fingers had left red marks from his too-strong grip. But she didn’t complain.
“Will the bankers give you the loan you seek?”
“Banking is not your concern. You need to learn more of our customs, and while I’m gone, you will spend this time studying.”
Despite his anger, he didn’t miss her annoyance when he dismissed her. Nor had he missed the fact that despite hours on her feet yesterday, she still hadn’t learned to use null-grav. She would spend the day on her feet, giving him another opportunity for a lesson. She’d had hours to sleep while he’d visited with his father. The last thing she needed right now was comfort.
Kahn used the bands to place the ridiculous shoes back on her feet, hoping the discomfort would help her psi to kick in her null-grav. He didn’t stay to hear her complain and exited through the door, wishing he could fix his credit problem as easily as he could enrage his wife. Without collateral the bankers would probably turn him down, but he couldn’t leave Zenon without making an attempt to secure a loan to purchase the crucial food supplies.
Without a backward glance, he departed, but Tessa never left his mind. Although he’d never wanted to marry anyone but a good Rystani woman, Tessa had pleased him repeatedly. He enjoyed her spunk, her laughter, her touches. And he admired her spirit. After years of mourning Lael, Tessa had brought a brightness to his heart. After their marriage, he had hoped that maybe they could work out their differences, but while he believed his wife could do anything she set her mind to, he didn’t know if they could overcome such fundamental cultural differences. He’d tried to make allowances, wanted her to be happy. He’d thought they’d been making progress. Every time he thought of her spending all those credits, his blood pressure pounded. He should be working off his excess rage against a programmed opponent in the gym, but instead he headed off to the financial district, his heart heavy.
TESSA COULDN’T concentrate on her psi. Not with Kahn ready to tear her head off. Not with her feet once again aching in the blasted shoes.
A blinking light signaled an incoming message. Probably Kahn checking up on her to see if she obeyed his rule not to use the communicator. She ignored the light and studied the screen, gleaning details about Rystan. In comparison, Earth was rich in natural resources which had allowed their civilizations to develop differently. And since the Rystani people had unleashed nuclear weapons, they had almost terminated their entire civilization. Where the population had once been in the millions, there were scarcely over a hundred thousand Rystani left. On the inhabitable parts of Rystan, metal was scarce, the growing season short due to the nuclear winter. Although the population was highly educated, they didn’t build big cities. Because of the cold, they lived underground in huge caves in widespread villages of no more than a few thousand people each. Births were strictly regulated by how many people they could feed. The men hunted huge animals in groups.
Between the climate, the lack of fuel and metals, the planet required the people to hunt to survive. Women took care of home and hearth and children, leaving the dangerous work to their men who ran everything. Wives were honored, protected—but had little freedom. Women could vote but usually gave their votes to the men. They could hold assets in their own names, but that right was usually reserved only for widows.
The communication light blinked again. Again Tessa ignored the summons. She also ignored the cooking and cleaning instructions, figuring that the machines she’d bought would perform those chores for her. However, she had no idea what she would do with her time on Rystan. Women didn’t hold jobs outside the home. They didn’t fight or guard others. The Rystani seemed to spend most of their time hunting the food and preparing it. After nine days of that, never mind nine hundred years, she would go mad with boredom.
On the up side, no rule forbade a woman from establishing a business. The concept was probably so outlandish the Rystani people had no law to prohibit it. So her partnership with Osari didn’t technically break any laws.
Kahn had been so angry when he left, she hadn’t considered telling him about her partnership with Osari. Nor had he asked how she’d spent her credits, either. Until he asked, she had no intention of volunteering the information.
Only a few of the women’s activities looked interesting. Some day she wanted to learn the steps to the Ramala Ki, the dance wives performed to entice their husbands into bed. The intricate steps combined with the erotic music had her tapping her toes, wishing Kahn wasn’t so furious with her, and hoping his mood improved before he ret
urned.
The light on the console blinked three times fast, three times slow, three times fast, Morse code for SOS. Kahn probably didn’t know the Earth signal. She suspected no one besides a Terran would know that code—except Dora.
Tessa hit the toggle switch. She most definitely needed to talk over business with her friend. And if Kahn replied, she’d simply tell him she’d accidentally hit the switch.
“Yes?”
“It’s about time you stopped shutting me out,” Dora complained.
“I had no way of knowing if that was Kahn until you came up with a brilliant signal. Thanks. I could use your help. We need a plan.”
“How can I help?”
“Is there a way to peddle that information back to the sellers?”
“Why would they buy what they already have? They sold you a copy.”
“I need to earn credits before Kahn returns and we leave Zenon. Maybe I could sell my information to other people.”
“I’m a ship’s computer, not an entrepreneur, but I suspect that kind of transaction will take time to find the right buyer.”
Tessa rubbed her forehead. She needed to kick her brain into high gear. “I worked for Daron Garner, one of the best businessmen on Earth. Too bad I can’t call him.”
“What would he have done in your situation?”
Tessa sighed. With her feet aching and her lack of sleep, she wasn’t thinking as well as she’d have liked and sat on the floor to take pressure off her sore arches. Even if Kahn allowed her to work, she couldn’t earn credit on Rystan. So she needed to do something before they left tomorrow. Working as a bodyguard wouldn’t bring in that kind of currency—not in one day. She had no assets. No marketable skills. Think.
“Daron always assessed his predicament and analyzed the problem from different angles before arriving at one of his brilliant solutions. My first problem is time. I have to earn these credits before Kahn returns from his banker’s meetings and we leave this world where a woman can do business. Second, Kahn told me to stay here. Third, I have nothing to sell . . . except myself.”
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