Our gazes locked, we rose to our feet in unison.
“On our way.”
Plet saluted as we arrived at the bridge.
“What is it, Plet?” I asked.
She steered us toward the screen tank.
“This ship was hanging off at some distance when we emerged from ultradrive,” she said. “It would seem that this zone is a known exit point for ships going on to the frontier.”
“Pirates?” I asked, perking up a trifle.
“I doubt it.” The Wichu pilot threw an impatient hand at the scope. “They hailed us. I wanted you to see it as soon as possible. What do you want to do about it?”
A large vessel was in the screen tank. I stooped to peer at it. It was a gaudy ship, patterned in cheerful hues. It seemed to be in good condition, but I could see by its spectroscopic shadow that it had gas and radiation leaks, showing poor maintenance. It was not so far away that it couldn’t bracket us with laser strikes, but I didn’t see the usual power signatures for a heavy weapon array.
“Is it asking us for help?” I inquired. “Nesbitt could do some running repairs on it, but it is best off waiting until it reaches Way Station 46. We don’t have much capacity for in-depth analysis, but we could be of some aid—”
“No, my lord,” Oskelev said, cutting off my offer of assistance. “It’s a trader. The pilot asked to talk to the people in charge. That’s you.” She looked from one to the other of us. I don’t see why she was confused about the command structure. I was at the top, with Plet as my trusted assistant. Parsons was my aide-de-camp, not in the line of command at all.
“Don’t they see that this is a military vessel?” Plet asked.
“That never stops ’em asking, sir,” Oskelev said. “The reason you don’t hear about shy traders is that they go out of business.”
I was greatly amused.
“Put him on, then,” I said. Anstruther swept a finger over a single control on her console.
A round, brown-skinned face adorned with a fringe of wiry silver at both top and bottom appeared.
“All hail the mighty Imperium ship CK-M945B!” came the beery voice over the speakers. “Who’ve I got there?”
“This is the naval ship Rodrigo,” I said. “I am Lieutenant Lord Thomas Kinago.”
“Whoo-hoo, a noble! I knew today was my lucky day!”
“Perhaps it is my lucky day,” I said. “How may I help you?”
The rich, cheerful voice launched into a fast-paced patter.
“Wallace Doyobe here, Lord Thomas. I am a trader with many decades of experience—you can look me up on Infogrid—and I know that there has to be a list in your mind of all the items that you have not been able to find haunting you. When you walk into a bazaar, or meet a trader, I just know you are wondering—does he, she or it have that one little thing that I have been missing all my life?
“You must be looking for bargains, or you wouldn’t be heading for that outpost, Way Station 46,” he went on smoothly. “Word is that they keep people there until they run out of money. Then either they’ve got to turn back or do their best once they make it into the Autocracy. Now, that is where I come in.”
I interrupted his flow with a question that knocked so hard at my lips it fell out of my mouth.
“Isn’t that where you are going, my good fellow? Why else would you be this close to the frontier?”
“Nope,” Doyobe said flatly. “Not going there. I was in the Autocracy before the craziness started. Since then, I’ve been buying goods off the folks who are coming out, doing a little interstellar business with those as turned back. Handing off their goods to the folks who insist they’re going to risk Way Station 46. I’m trading with both sides. Giving the people what they want. The folks returning from the Autocracy don’t have to go far to offload part of their cargo, and the Imperium ships don’t have to get caught in that web to pick up some Uctu merchandise. It’s a win-win-win! Maybe even four wins, if I can do something for you.”
“And what do you know about the situation beyond the border, sir?” Parsons intoned from behind me.
“It’s a downright mystery,” Doyobe said, shifting his eyes to Parsons. I could sense his puzzlement as he attempted to sum up my aide-de-camp. Better men than he had crashed in frustration upon the impenetrable rock of that countenance. “Some folks go into the Autocracy, and they ain’t coming out again. So it’ll be a long time before you see me on the other side of the frontier. So, would you like to talk merchandise? I can send you my catalog. Updated to the minute!”
I peered back at Parsons.
“It would seem an unnecessary delay to continue negotiations at long distance, sir,” he said, with his usual blank exterior. I, who was familiar with Parsons, did not need a neon indicator to pick up on his implication. I turned to smile at the screen.
“Mr. Doyobe, why don’t you bring over your catalog, and let us have a confabulation face to face?” I asked, imparting as much hospitality as I could in my tone. “You never know, you might well precipitate an exchange of goods and capital. I know that I am in a buying mood, and my cousin, who is traveling with me, is seeded in the shopping championships on several planets in the Core Worlds.”
Doyobe perked up like a coffeepot.
“My lord, it would be a pleasure! And I could bring along a few little things with me, if you have anything in particular you fancy. . . . I don’t suppose you’re a viewer, for example, of the Uctu digitavid program called Ya!”
I exchanged glances with Parsons. I smiled at the optical pickup.
“You may so suppose, my good fellow. Why?”
The broad face broadened even further with a toothy smile.
“Weeeell, I might have an item or two that will take your fancy. Not widely available in the Imperium, or narrowly, either. Something realllly ancient.”
“Oh?” I asked. “How ancient?” A tingle of excitement erupted in my fingertips and spread throughout my entire body. My lucky circuit erupted with a twinkling of colored light. Opportunity was knocking, if I could only reach the portal fast enough. “What is it?”
Doyobe, no fool, saw that he had a fish on the line.
“Wait and see, my lord! If I can bring along my nephew, Hakim, we’ll be shuttling over in a few minutes.”
“That would be most satisfactory,” I said. Oskelev closed the communications link. I turned to my aide-de-camp, who radiated pleased contentment.
“Parsons, I do believe that this is my lucky day! I must check my horoscope again.”
“My lord, wouldn’t your removal from the focal point of the constellations alter your fortunes?”
I was taken aback at my own carelessness, and smote my forehead in contrition. “You’re right! I haven’t recalibrated my charts yet. It would take too much time. I shall have to consult my crystal instead. No, you made me leave that home. Or perhaps my cards. But wait,” I added, with a reproachful glance at him. “I believe I am owed an explanation for the events that transpired immediately before our departure from the Bonchance, Parsons.”
“It would be unbecoming to discuss such matters before others, sir,” Parsons said.
In spite of the curious eyes that lit upon me from all directions on the bridge, I felt mulish enough to dig in my heels.
“No, I feel here and now would be quite sufficient, Parsons.”
“There isn’t time for that now, my lord,” Parsons said, smoothly. “Our guest is arriving very shortly. You would not want to miss the unpacking of the peddler’s wares, would you?”
I sighed.
“You have me there, Parsons. But this matter is not yet concluded.”
“Of course not, my lord.”
The crew, with the exception of Anstruther, who remained to maintain the ship’s conn, assembled eagerly in the hold to meet our visitor’s shuttle. I tried to guess what might be the curiosity that he was bringing. I had a list of things for which I hoped against hope, but those were the stuff of fantasy. I would settle fo
r a little novelty, for which I was willing to pay a fair price. The anticipation was delicious. I saw my fellow crewmembers infected with the same fever. Even Plet, that model of dignity and gravitas, positively fidgeted. When she noticed my scrutiny, she stopped moving, but I had already made note of her interest and found it charming. It was nice to know that she was capable of the same feelings as the rest of us.
Doyobe proved to be the very image of a longtime space merchant. Emerging from a hatch that seemed rather too small to contain his effusive personality, he wore the most casual of shipsuits, possessed of innumerable pockets from which emerged trinkets and treasures of all descriptions.
“Greetings, my friends! I am here to fulfill your dreams. There will be profit for all of us. Please, ask me for anything! I might even have it!”
We chuckled appreciatively. I stepped forward, as the host who had invited him.
“Welcome, Captain Doyobe. And is this your nephew?”
“Yes, it is,” Doyobe said, with a flourish behind him. “Hakim! My most excellent nephew and apprentice at the space merchant trade.”
Hakim, a slimmer and younger version of his uncle, drew behind him an antigrav lifter. With occasional glances at us, he guided it down the ramp of the shuttle and onto the hold deck. We could all see that it had been stacked two meters high with intriguing parcels. The crew of the Rodrigo emitted a collective sigh of pleasure. We surrounded the sled even though it was still moving, trying to decide what we wanted to examine first. All of the boxes, bags and packages looked worthy of a good browse. But the item that thrilled me beyond words was the first thing I spotted near the top of the load where only someone of my lofty height could see it: a Ya! boxed set.
Carefully, I removed it from the pile. I read the three-dimensional blurb that beamed out from the sleeve as soon as the side was unobstructed. In cut-jewel letters, it proclaimed that the box contained the first three seasons of Ya! In my astonishment I nearly dropped it. I held something so rare and precious that fellow collectors would have killed me without hesitation and stood upon the body just to touch it.
“What is?”
Redius crowded in beside me to see. I tipped the label toward him. He read it and let out a hiss of astonishment. We shared a glance. Only fellow enthusiasts would understand the excitement that crackled between us. This was a prize beyond price. I hoped no one else would notice.
However, I could not imagine going unobserved by the merchant. Doyobe homed in upon me as though I was handling his firstborn child. I attempted to be casual, but it was difficult to maintain my cool exterior when handling that item. I would have given anything at that moment to possess Parsons’s preternatural serenity.
“So, you spotted it, my lord,” Doyobe said, with an avuncular smile. “Any fan of Ya! would give his teeth and one hand to own it.” He threw an arm around my shoulder, having to reach high for it, as he was a great deal shorter than I, and walked alongside me as though we were old and close friends. “Now, I think you’ll admit that this is a bit of a rarity, wouldn’t you say?”
“I have never seen one of these before,” I said.
“Nor I,” said Redius.
“Take a close look, why don’t you? I think you’ll find it everything you ever hoped for. As a fan of Ya!, I mean.”
I read the synopsis on the back of Season One. Now that I was more conversant in written Uctu, the meaning sprang out at me.
“The origin stories of all the main houses? Great heavens.” I clapped a hand out over my mouth and glanced at my fellows. Had I actually read that out loud?
“Astonishing,” Redius agreed.
“Fine, isn’t it?” Doyobe asked. “Open it up, my lord.” I did. Inside, three octagonal shapes the size of my thumbnail, one each of gold, pink and blue, glistened up at me. “Look at the state of the crystals. In perfect condition, my lord, I promise you. Not one single dropped sector, not one missing scene.”
“But is it genuine?” I asked. “I am not going to appear on the Uctu homeworld with contraband in my pack. It puts me in the same state as those poor wretches who have been imprisoned.”
“Check the seals, sir,” Doyobe suggested, with an offhand gesture. He took the gold crystal out of the box and drew it close to one of the foiled stamps on the side. The middle stamp glowed in a complicated pattern. “Every seal is coded to react to the crystal in the box that corresponds with it. Nothing’s been tampered with. Check it all ways from galactic center. You’ll never find a more genuine set.”
By that time, we and the visitors had reached the mess hall, and the bevy of ladies had discovered that shopping was in the offing. They had lifted themselves from the crash couches to peruse the merchandise, ducking in between the crewmembers to snatch up items that had been spread out across the dining tables. The room had taken on the air of a weekend bazaar.
“Look at these wonderful scarves,” Marquessa said, brandishing a handful of glowing rainbows. “I have a couple of customers who would love these.”
“I can give you a good price on them,” Doyobe said. “You won’t pay less anywhere in the Autocracy, unless you can lay hands on the weavers themselves.” I saw him catch a glimpse of me out of the corner of his eye, but he kept on with his bargain. “What do you say, madam? Act now, and I will throw in this handsome brooch.” A twinkling cluster of crystals appeared on his palm as though by magic. I grinned.
Jil glanced over the heads of her friends toward me. As I would have guessed, she instantly identified the object in my hands. She closed the distance between us, hands reaching clawlike for my prize.
“Is that an old set? Oh!” she exclaimed, as she managed to flip up the box to read the label. “The first three! I want it! Give it to me.”
“Not a chance, cousin,” I said, brushing her away gently but firmly. “It’s mine.”
Redius moved away so as not to be caught in the crossfire. I couldn’t blame him. He joined Nesbitt, who was going through stacks of small cases in a basket. Oskelev had draped a range of decorative belts and harnesses over her furry shoulders. Plet flipped through boxes of antique books with paper pages. I would have been delighted to join her at that makeshift library, but serious business needed to be handled first.
Jil turned to Doyobe, who had concluded his dealing with Marquessa and had come to join us.
“Dear sir, I want that Ya! collection,” she said. “I’ll pay you anything.”
“The gentleman had first call on it, madam,” the trader said, with a slight bow. “You’ll understand. First come, first served?”
“I don’t understand that at all,” Jil said, with a dismissive wave. “Thomas is my cousin. I have the same right to things as he does. Let me have it.” She opened her eyes wide and brought the intense regard to bear upon him that had captivated the commander of the Bonchance, and countless others before him. “Please?”
“Well, madam,” Doyobe said, stroking his silver beard with just the right air of hesitation. “I was asking twelve hundred for the set. It’s a scarce treasure, you understand.”
Jil blanched. Inwardly, I was triumphant. I knew she was not the collector I was. I would pay that without hesitation.
“Would you consider ten fifty?” she asked, tiptoeing a pair of delicate fingers upon the cuff of his shipsuit. “Perhaps even eleven hundred?”
“Well . . .”
“Thirteen,” I said at once.
Doyobe glanced up at me with a summing eye.
“Thirteen, my lord?”
I appeared diffident.
“Well, as you say, it’s a genuine rarity. I can’t let it slip through my fingers by being stingy.”
Jil looked from me to the trader and back again.
“Oh, you are not serious!”
“Trading’s my livelihood, madam. It’s very serious to me, indeed! Perhaps if you’d like to raise your offer a trifle?”
Marquessa, the prized scarves tied around her arms like guerdons, sidled over. She leaned close to Jil, h
er tresses of golden hair concealing both their faces. I could hear her whisper but not distinguish what was being said. I remembered that she was Jil’s personal shopper in Taino. She had undoubtedly made more bargains in her career than all of us put together. The fair curtain withdrew, revealing Jil’s face, now set with determination.
“Thirteen fifty,” she said. “I think that’s fair, don’t you?” She reached for the boxed set and tried to pluck it out of my fingers. I extended my arm over my head, well out of her reach.
“Fourteen,” I said. “I should think that is even more fair.”
Jil glared daggers at me. Marquessa leaned in for another round of advice.
“You know,” Jil said, her expression now as mild as a doll’s, “we only have to enter Uctu space to purchase these years’ worth of the show, and you will be out of luck on this sale, Mr. Doyobe.”
The trader clucked his tongue.
“Ah, but even there these are strictly limited, madam. There hasn’t been a fresh issue of the earliest seasons for a long while, maybe thirty years. I think they’re waiting for the next centenary. They’ll publish millions of legit copies then.”
“That’s too long to wait,” Jil said, leaning closer so her personal perfume wafted around the trader’s nostrils. “I want this one.” She hoped to convince him by main force of personality. I knew what she was doing, even though she didn’t. Commoners had a genetic predilection to being persuaded by the nobility. I tried not to trade upon that, as I considered it bad sportsmanship. If I could not win outright by force of wit, then I did not deserve to win.
“Angie,” I said, “bartering is a thirsty game. Would you dispense beverages for us? From my personal supply, if you please.”
“Of course, Lord Thomas,” said the voice of the LAI. “Gentlemen, please consult your viewpads for a menu.”
Doyobe took his personal device from his pocket and ran his eyes up and down the list. His silver brows ascended.
“If the way to my heart wasn’t through my wallet, you would have won me over right there, my lord,” he said, heartily. “Real Boske wines?”
“I have a connection,” I said modestly. “That ten-year-old green is very good. Effervescent without being too intoxicating. I wouldn’t want your senses muddled. Boske green for all, Angie.”
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