“Hello, Keezer,” Peters responded, and offered the left-arm salute. “We are curious. Who is arriving?”
The engineer nodded. “The trade delegations have completed their work, and are coming back aboard for departure.”
Peters and Todd looked at one another. “Trade delegations?” Peters asked.
“Certainly. The first to arrive will probably be Prethuvenigis, head of the Trade Department.”
“Where has he been?”
Keezer was amused. “I don’t know the names of your places. Sinafor, perhaps?”
“Singapore,” Todd murmured.
“Makes sense, that’s a big place for trade,” Peters noted, “But I sure didn’t know these folks was goin’ that far afield.”
Todd shrugged. “Like Dreelig said, it’s a planet, and not everybody has to talk about things instead of trading.”
“I reckon you’re right.” Peters looked at the Grallt. “Keezer, we do not expect to be needed, but may we observe?”
“I see no objection, but please don’t interfere.”
“Yes.” Peters saluted, getting a response, a wave and nod of the head. He and Todd moved back, standing with backs to the open door panel, and the Grallt ignored them, making settings and doing cross checks.
A loose group assembled in something resembling sloppy ranks near the midships hangar access hatch, a mixture of polychrome traders and the blue-and-whites of zerkre. Peters was astonished to see the portly figure of the Captain near the head of the group, and pointed him out to Todd.
Sparks were appearing aft, above the curve of the Earth. Keezer stood by the number-one console and brought out a small pair of folding binoculars. That was a good thought; Peters resolved to mention it to Howell. The engineer said something to the console operator, who passed it along the row. Peters and Todd, nearest the number-three station, understood the word being passed as Look alive, big dli first.
What flashed across the threshold and taxiied over to the receiving party was indeed a “big dli“, easily twice the size of the ones they had seen and ridden in. The overall shape was the same, but details were enough different to suggest manufacture by yet another of the groups Todd had postulated; different builders, if not different races. It came to a stop forward of the waiting Grallt, presenting its portside forward hatch to the group. The hatch opened in-and-out like an airplane’s, operated by a Grallt rather than any sort of automatics, and one of the waiting party brought a short ladder and set it down for convenient access.
The first one out was a tubby Grallt with white hair and mustache, wearing a tunic and trousers similar to what Donollo had worn, high-class gear. He exchanged salutes with the Captain and stood next to him, conversing without urgency, as the rest came down the steps. Another dli, this one like the ones they were familiar with, entered and taxied over to park beside the first.
There were a lot of people, in an array of different costumes, from kathir suits in various patterns to tunic-and-trousers outfits, some conservative, some brilliant. They all looked around as they exited, and there were a number of headshakes. Apparently new paint and clean decks in the ops bay weren’t generally expected by the party.
A third dli, again a “standard” one, entered and parked next to the first two. When the last few came down the steps and closed the hatches, Peters guessed that nearly three hundred people had disembarked from the three ships, and two more sparks were still visible aft. Those resolved themselves into freight-haulers that came in one at a time but didn’t stop, just taxiied to the forward hangar access and disappeared without being unloaded. There’ll be enough room in the forward hangars, Peters thought, but only just.
A blue-and-white brought out a gadget like a wheelbarrow, which she attached to the nosewheel of the “big dli” and began jockeying it into the hangars. The smaller dli began moving on their own, as usual, and the bay doors closed with the normal cacaphony. The crews manning the retarders did a few final checks and disappeared up the bay; hangar access doors closed with their milder clangs and bangs; finally there was no one left in the ops bay but sailors, lining the sidewalls and exchanging looks.
Peters shook his head. “I notice the Captain came out to meet those folks. He didn’t do that for Dreelig or for our guys.”
“Which says Dreelig isn’t exactly high up in the Grallt system,” Todd remarked.
“And I reckon we ain’t either.” He took a couple of steps, Todd not commenting. “What’s this?”
A zerkre was exchanging frustrations with a couple of sailors by the entrance to enlisted quarters. Neither she nor the sailors had enough of the others’ language to communicate, and she was starting to get loud. The sailors, a pair of First Classes from the tin-bending shop, were trying dumbshow but getting nowhere. “Pleasant greetings,” Peters said in Grallt. “Can I help in some way?”
“Oh, wonderful, someone I can talk to,” said the crewman with a grimace of relief. “I have the departure schedule.” She waved a piece of paper.
“That should go to my superior,” Peters told her.
“Yes, I understand that,” said the crewman. “I was trying to reach him to deliver it. Perhaps you can do that.”
“No, I should not, but I can escort you,” Peters told her. “Just a moment.” “She needs to see Chief Joshua,” he told the other sailors in English. “Got our movement orders.”
“Not a minute too soon,” one of the others remarked. “Hell, Peters, go ahead, we’re not on guard duty. What the Hell was going on a little while ago? I thought the ambassador was the only one dealing with the people on Earth.”
“Keezer said trade delegations,” Peters said with a shrug. “They got things they ain’t ready to pass on to the peons. So what else is new?”
The other sailor grinned a little worriedly. “You got that right,” he opined.
“Chief in his quarters?”
“Last I looked.”
“Thanks.” He addressed the Grallt: “Come with us. We will take you to Chief Joshua.”
Joshua looked up when Peters rapped on the doorframe. He took in the two sailors and their Grallt companion and frowned. “Come,” he said briskly. “What’s up, Peters?”
“This is the person who should receive the message,” he told the crewwoman. “Movement orders, I reckon,” he said to Joshua.
The Chief took the paper, looked it over, and frowned. “I can’t read this,” he complained.
Peters shrugged. “I can’t neither, at least not too good. Hang on.” He turned to the zerkre, who had started to edge past on her way to the door. “Can you wait a moment?” he asked. “I can speak the Trade, but I don’t read it well. What does this document tell us?”
The Grallt shrugged. “Nothing unusual. The zifthkakik will be activated at the end of the first utle after first meal. Everyone should take the first meal as usual, and be in their living quarters during the transition.”
Peters relayed that to the Chief, who grunted. “Leaving, are we?”
“Looks as if, Chief.”
Joshua grunted again. “Any special precautions we ought to take?” He glared at the Grallt, who returned it impassively. “As I understand it, we’re about to go faster than light and head out for another star, right? Seems to me that might call for, oh, I dunno, seat belts?”
Peters relayed that, or its gist, to the Grallt, who smiled. “You should stay in your rooms until the change is complete,” she told him. “No other care is needed.”