“You must mean the nekrit fighting-ship,” Peters observed. “I hadn’t thought about it in zul. You say it’s considered my property? Mine and Todd’s, that is?”
Dzheenis shrugged. “They’ve been charging you rent for storing it.”
“It was defective. That’s why it’s here, after all.”
“Perhaps so.” The ferassi-Grallt mused for a moment, pinching his lower lip in his characteristic gesture. “I believe I’ll have a chat with one of the Engineering zerkre. Surely someone can tell us if it’s repairable.”
The report, a llor later, was that the only thing wrong with the ugly little ship was total lack of maintenance. “It’s ugly, crude, and filthy, and stinks of uncleaned organics,” said Gerig, whom Dzheenis had hired for the survey. “I wouldn’t bother to repair it. Pull out the zifthkakik and weapons, yank the control system and navigation instruments, and toss the hulk out. A complete smallship set is worth many ornh almost everywhere.”
“Do that, then.” Peters smiled. “Do you mind working with humans?”
“I don’t know,” Gerig confessed. “I’ve never done it. Peetir is the cosmopolitan.”
“I’ll get a crew together. It’ll take longer, but they should leap at the chance to do a complete teardown and learn how the controls are connected.” Peters looked at the zerkre with a wry grin. “Best of all, I won’t have to pay them.”
Gerig laughed. “Kh kh! Spoken like a true Trader. No, I don’t mind, but we’ll need an interpreter.”
“I’ll get one of the stewards. I’ll have to pay him.”
The predicted leap to volunteer duly occurred. Both Grallt and humans complained about the stink, but the result was a complete smallship outfit and a set of instructions for how to connect it all up. Dhuvenig came down to observe, and made arrangements for a close pass on a star with no known planets so that the hulk could be disposed of as thoroughly as possible. Despite his joking declaration Peters did pay the enlisted men who’d worked on the project, but didn’t even mention the possibility to the officers who’d come to watch.
Kraatna was a trade stop only; the inhabitants had a few spacecraft, but were largely planetbound and relatively primitive, and didn’t maintain anything resembling a military. They wanted to sell foodstuffs, handicrafts, and precious metals; they wanted to buy medium-tech building fittings—electric lights, plumbing, and the like—and space hardware. Llapaaloapalla had plenty of both tucked away in what had originally been the port operations bay, and Peters got to see that area for the first time. He could have spent all his waking hours there, looking at goods mundane and exotic, familiar and strange, but Prethuvenigis insisted that he be in on the trade talks, and it was, after all, just a warehouse.
He participated fully in the negotiations, which made Prethuvenigis smile and earned him questioning looks from the other traders in the group. So far as he could tell he did a workmanlike job of it, staying quiet most of the time, commenting only when he found some item he thought would be marketable on Earth, or saw some aspect of the deal he wasn’t sure of.
The Kraatnans were a new part of the trade network; they looked like semi-erect alligators, but they were clearly of the kree. Their language translated as readily as kheis or n’saic, and their biochemistry was highly compatible. One of the items they offered was a coarse powder called zishis, used either as a condiment or as the main flavor ingredient in several dishes. Peters tasted it, and immediately made arrangements for one of the dishes, a sweet concoction of berries seasoned with zishis, to be served at dinner. “Oh!” said Vanessa Williams after a tentative taste, and devoured the spoonful. “Ohhhhmigod. Is there more?” Similar reactions went up and down among the humans, and Peters smiled to himself and ordered a ton of the stuff. It looked as if chocolate might have acquired a competitor.
“That seems to have gone well,” he remarked to Prethuvenigis on the way back up to Llapaaloapalla.
“Yes, I think so,” the Trader agreed with a nod. He shifted in his seat, and turned to face Peters. “John, there are a couple of things I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, and now seems a good time.”
Peters shrugged. “Certainly. What’s on your mind?”
“The financial affairs of the human detachment are becoming a problem for us, so I’m passing them along to you. It will mean you’ll have to hire more staff.”
“In what way does it constitute a burden? I’d have thought they were minor compared to your other activities.”
“They are, but we believe it would be better to separate your people’s affairs from ours well in advance of our arrival at Earth, and placing a human in charge will make it less likely that suspicion of mismanagement will arise.”
“Let me speak with Dzheenis before I make any commitments. It will be necessary to involve the officers, because from their point of view it is their charge to manage the affairs of the detachment.”
Prethuvenigis shrugged. “You know best what the requirements are, which is a large part of the reason you’re the best one to take the responsibility. You won’t lose by it, financially I mean. You can and should take a reasonable management fee.”
“Yes, Dzheenis has explained to me about management fees… you said there were two matters.”
“I’d like to lease your ship. It would be ideal for some errands I have in mind.”
Peters looked up, startled. The little ship sat in the number-two hangar, being swarmed over by human and zerkre technicians anxious to acquaint themselves with the secrets of ferassi technology. It had two “first class” cabins each of which could accommodate three in a pinch, bunks for a half-dozen working people, and a sizeable cargo hold; it was almost twice as fast as Llapaaloapalla, was armed to the teeth, and didn’t have to be buttoned up in front for high phase—altogether a nice little yacht. After seeing it Mannix, who was from Connecticut, had started calling Peters “John Jacob.” “How long would you expect to need it?” he asked the Trader.
“Approximately two zul.” Prethuvenigis smiled slightly. “I had intended to wait until our next stop. Hegghi is a nexus, where I could charter one of the smaller Trade ships for the trip I have in mind. Deela suggested I talk to you, and she’s right. Not only is your ship faster, I wouldn’t have to deal with a strange crew.”
“I can see that… once again, I will need to speak to Dzheenis. Among other things, we’ll have to decide on what I should charge you.”
Prethuvenigis grinned. “You’re learning,” he observed, his tone a mixture of amusement and approval. “Consult, by all means, but if you could give me an answer before the end of the llor I would greatly appreciate it.”
“I’ll have an answer for you as soon as possible,” Peters replied, “but I can’t commit to a specific schedule. You do realize that I’ll want the ship back well before we arrive at Earth?”
“Oh, of course.” Prethuvenigis shook his head, still smiling. “As I had intended to do it, it would have been hard for me to complete my errands before Llapaaloapalla arrived at Earth. If I can use your ship I’m quite sure I can finish up in time to meet Llapaaloapalla at Keelisika.”
Prethuvenigis’s deputy, a woman called Henarigis, watched as Peters and Dzheenis supervised a freshly-recruited group of Grallt collecting the records for transport. “If you’re going to be managing the financing, you can do the coordination as well,” she said. “The records are over there. I’m sick of the whole project.” She didn’t even haggle when he proposed a management fee.