"Who are you?" the man asked. "Who…"
Chapter Four
Joat stared moodily at the screen. It listed the latest Standard Commercial Report listing of cargoes in demand at Rohan Station, together with charter listings and container requests from New Destinies. Item: thruster units. Officially, Rohan didn't have shipyards. Item: power plant spares. From the specs, there were some awfully fast merchantmen operating out of Rohan-merchantmen who were profligate enough to burn out their overpowered drive units with some regularity. The sort of maneuver you needed to transit an atmosphere at high speed, or wrench another ship out of FTL transit.
"There are some things I just won't do," she muttered.
Running that sort of cargo into a pesthole like Rohan was one of those things. Fuel, maybe. Foodstuffs, medical supplies, sure-if they went into a pirate's sickbay or galley, that wasn't her affair. But no fardling way was she going to run drive coils or fire-control electronics. Not to Rohan.
"Joat, will you be advised by me?"
Lessee. I could offer to take those fifteen containers of pharmaceuticals at, say, three percent, then-
Joat glanced up from the cargo manifest she was studying to look at Joseph. His face was solemn and his manner formal. She raised her brows.
"I'm always willing to listen to advice from people I respect, Joe. What's on your mind?"
"I keep thinking of something you said to Bros Sperin. That going to Rohan was to a trader the equivalent of a virgin entering a whorehouse. It is a good analogy, Joat, and it troubles me."
Joat leaned back in her chair, eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"Go on," she said.
"It is not simply your reputation with Central Worlds that concerns me. You are known as a captain who keeps her hands clean. Will they not wonder why you have come to them? As well, your association with the SSS-900-C is widely known. As the adopted daughter of a shell-person you became quite famous for a while. To those guilty of aiding the Kolnari your name will surely set off a train of associations which could result in considerable danger for you."
She folded her hands on her stomach and nodded slowly.
"You're right. I will need a reason for going there that's completely dissociated from Amos or the Kolnari. You know, I have this sneaking suspicion that Mr. Sperin wanted me to be under suspicion. So that it would be easier for someone else-say, Bros Sperin-to slip in himself while everyone worried about me. Hmmm."
"Perhaps if you were to take on smuggled goods," Joseph suggested tentatively. "New Destinies has a reputation for looking the other way in such matters, so having this as your last port of call would lend credibility."
"I'd need to justify that," Joat said thoughtfully. "I'm the first to admit that I bend the rules till they scream for mercy, but seriously criminal behavior is something I've managed to avoid so far."
She tapped her fingertips together and stared into space for a moment. Then she smiled.
"Rand," she asked, "do we have a recording of that little walk I took earlier?"
"Yes Joat. I saw no reason not to make one."
"Can you adjust it to make it look as though it had been recorded by someone else?"
"I can."
"Do it. Then transmit it anonymously to Station Security." She winked at Joseph. "I took an unauthorized space walk and entered the station illegally. They'll hit us with a wonking great fine and I can use that as an excuse for needing fast and dirty credits." She grimaced. "It may take us there round about, but I think the added safety margin should be worth a small delay."
"But Joat, the fine will be real," Joseph objected. Frowning he asked, "What if you cannot pay it?"
"No problem." Joat grinned at him. "CenSec will pay-at least, I think I can thumbscrew any reasonable amount out of them. We'll just put it under expenses. Might come to four, five thousand credits; even ten thousand. Enough to make the treasurer wince. Can't be much more than that."
Joseph laughed. Bethelites tended to be straightlaced, but Joseph ben Said had the wholehearted love of a well-thought-out swindle natural to a Keriss wharf rat. This would not only make CenSec cough up the money, but a certain Bros Sperin would have to justify the expense.
"You are wicked! You have always been wicked. Why did I think you had outgrown it?"
"Wishful thinking?" Joat asked, blinking innocent blue eyes.
A good notion, Sperin thought as he watched the clip of Joat breaking into the station. Getting herself into trouble with station security should give her greater credibility.
He'd wondered how she managed to avoid the man they'd had waiting for her. He's not the best that ever was, but he's not blind either. Bros shook his head and smiled slightly.
Now how can I benefit from this situation? Sperin rubbed his upper lip thoughtfully. The little captain had been talking about ditching her career as a courier, not something CenSec would like to happen. She's smart and she's reliable. It was amazing how rare those qualities were.
Joat hadn't been invited to join CenSec because she was too independent, too unpredictable. But it had turned out that in every way that it counted she was a gem. Be nice to have her beholden to us, Sperin mused. She's the type that pays her debts.
He'd been given a name in the Bureau of Fines and Levies to contact if need arose. Bros rubbed his palms together. I believe I feel a need.
"Roses sweet and tender she has twined in her hair,
and the scent of spring and roses is with her everywhere."
Joat yawned and half-groaned as the baritone voice boomed through the sound system.
"I take it Alvec is back," she said.
"Yes, Joat," Rand said.
She dumped a packet of sweetener into the coffee-she could afford real sugar now, but preferred the more familiar taste-and said: "On display."
The viewscreen over the galleys preserver unit came live, showing a holo of the deck outside the Wyal's berth. Alvec Dia was there, engaged in an enthusiastic good-bye kiss with a woman of about his own age and poundage; she had a spectacular head of red hair, and was clutching a dozen long-stemmed roses in her free hand. Or grinding them into Alvec's back, at times.
"Alvec?" Joseph asked from the other side of the galley.
He slid several eggs off the frictionless surface of the heater and onto a plate.
"Ahhh, Brunoki sausage. Almost as good at the morning meal as toasted sand rats. Alvec is the crewman of whom you spoke?"
Joat broke a yoke with a strip of toast. "Yup. And this happens at every dock. Well, nearly every dock. You don't really like sand rats, do you?"
"They are a traditional delicacy."
"Screen off. This is depressing."
"Only because you are lonely," Joseph said slyly. "As my second wife, you-"
"Do you really want to die, Joe?"
Alvec checked for a moment as he came through the galley door.
"You remember Joe?"
"Sure," he said easily, nodding at the Bethelite. They had met once before, briefly.
His expression showed that he also remembered Joseph's allergy to questions. The craggy-faced spacers expression went carefully bland as he pulled a container of coffee out of the cupboard, broke the seal and settled across the tiny table from Joat.
"Ah, she's beautiful, boss," he told them. "Sweetest gal you'd ever want to meet."