“No, some ingredients are imported to our homeworld,” Stavros said. “Each family has its own recipes, you understand. For instance, Aunt Grace uses a small amount of CraigsHollow cheese in the mix. And if she runs short of rutter cheese, she uses whatever light cheese is available. We’re not primarily a dairy supplier.”
Aunt Grace would skin Stavros alive, Gerard thought, if she ever found out about this. And she would find out, because she found out everything.
The rep’s expression of gustatorial bliss mixed with intense cunning suggested the source of his next question. “Supposing I were willing to buy such a food product. Without a license of course I could not pay premium prices… how much could you supply?”
Stavros shot a glance at Gerard. “Well… I don’t know. We’d have to be able to resupply here, and your prices are awfully high—”
“What about a straight trade, then? Kilo for kilo? This stuff is good, but surely you’re tired of it by now.”
“Oh, we never get tired of good cheese,” Gerard said. “Would you get tired of this?” His implant rolled the figures past him. If they even-traded cheese rolls for Corland’s high-priced foodstuffs, they could sell those somewhere else and still make a profit. Corland’s station inventory included flash-frozen bloodbeast filets, Turnoy tigerfish steaks, spices from at least twenty worlds.
“Straight trade. No paperwork. If it passes our toxicology tests that’s all that really matters. Private-label it.”
“I don’t know,” Stavros said. “I don’t want to get in trouble with your food safety inspectors.”
“Look—110% by weight premium. Really. How much—”
“Well… ” Stavros looked at Gerard; Gerard shrugged as if he didn’t care. “I guess we could let you have—how much have we got left, Gerry?”
“A couple gross,” Gerard said. “We could let them have ten or twenty rolls and still get home before we ran out.”
“You have over two hundred—come on, you can survive part of one voyage without it, surely. I could use all that—”
“Crew’s not going to like it,” Gerard said. “But it’s up to you, Captain.”
“It’s irregular,” Stavros said, as if that were a problem. “But I guess… if you can guarantee we won’t get in trouble with the authorities…”
“No problem,” the rep said. He cut himself another slice. “No problem at all. I’ll put it in writing. Special import, traditional native food of… Slotter Key, wasn’t it?” Stavros nodded. “And listen—if you can get people to jump through the hoops and set up for export, I guarantee it’d be a profitable product…”
“I don’t know,” Stavros said. “We’re just a transport company really.”
“We’ll need to rewrap it all,” Gerard said. “You know how it is—” he indicated the wrapper, where the words Not For Sale still showed on the uncut end of the roll. That had been another of Baris’s bright ideas. “I suppose you have plain dairy-quality wrap on the station—”
“How soon?”
How long would it take to make up that many cheese rolls if everyone pitched in? The biggest mixer in the galley had a capacity of only 3 kilos of cheese. That would make six half-kilo cheese logs… Gerard ran the calculations, the number of batches, the time it would take to mix in the right amount of flavoring, shape them, roll them in nuts and herbs, wrap and label them. Add a few hours for the inevitable problems. “Day after tomorrow,” Gerard said. “If we get the wrapping today. We’ll have to be careful not to knock off any of the seasonings.”
“I could have that done for you.”
Stavros shook his head. “No—nothing can leave this ship with Not For Sale on it… an inspector couldn’t ignore that.”
“Oh. Of course.”
They had the signed contract within the next hour, and an hour after that, Baris returned to the ship with two rolls of dairy-quality food-product wrap. Gerard had already cleared out the galley and dining area to make a workstation. Someone had started the big mixer in the galley, and two batches sat in bowls ready to shape, with bowls of chopped nuts and herbs ready to go.
By the time they had two gross cheese rolls ready for delivery, the entire crew was exhausted, but they were ready ahead of time, and every lingering trace of the Gumbone additive had been scrubbed from the air. Only the lush aroma of Baris’s recipe, now neatly wrapped, sealed, and closed with the newly printed labels (Vatta & Co, Private Treaty Cheese Rolls, 500g) greeted the sales agent on his return.
Homecoming meant docking at Slotter Key Station and facing yet another customs and immigration inspection. With the exception of the remaining Gumbone, now stored in crew quarters as private property, everything in the cargo holds matched the manifests. The last of the cargo from that Corland trade had been sold off two stops before.
Gerard did not expect to see his father standing outside the ship when customs cleared them and opened the dockside access.
“I’ll just come aboard, shall I?” Arkady said, with a nod for Arnie. “Hi, Arnie. Talk to you later.” He stepped into shipspace before Gerard could say anything. Gerard gulped.
“Father. Welcome aboard.”
“We’ll go upship,” Arkady said. The arm he put around Gerard’s shoulders was hard as stone and felt as heavy. No chance to warn Stavros… “I understand you’ve had an interesting voyage, Gerry. You and Stav both.”
“We’re in the black,” Gerard said.
“Very nice,” Arkady said, in a tone that did not match his words.
Someone had warned Stavros, because he met them in the main passage.
“Your cabin,” Arkady said. It was not a request. Stavros, stony-faced, ushered them in and at Arkady’s gesture closed them in. Gerard had the feeling that only one was coming out of there alive.
“I should knock your heads together,” Arkady began. “Do you even have an idea how many laws you broke and how much trouble you could be in?”
“I don’t think we actually broke any laws,” Gerard said. “At least, not until we unload the—” His father held up a hand.
“I don’t want to know about that until it’s downside, behind odor-proof seals. It’s your problem how you get it down.”
“We’re in the black,” Stavros said. He glanced at Gerard.
“Trade and profit,” Gerard said.
Arkady gave them both a long, hard look, then slowly shook his head. The rumble of laughter that meant danger was over followed after. “You boys,” he said. “No, sorry, you men. You are definitely, absolutely, without any doubt, Vatta to the core.” He grinned. “We will have to have your pictures taken, added to the database of permanent crew.” He chuckled again. “You will have to say cheese,” he said.
Other books by Elizabeth Moon:
The Deed of Paksenarrion (available as an omnibus edition)
Sheepfarmer’s Daughter
Divided Allegiance
Oath of Gold
The Legacy of Gird (available as an omnibus edition)
Surrender None
Liar’s Oath
The Planet Pirates (with Anne McCaffrey)
(available as an omnibus edition, with Death of Sleep by Jody Lynn Nye)
Sassinak