“Disadvantage? Get a good sales type up there, they’ll be eaten alive. Can you call ’em — let me talk before they go too far?”
“If you believe that you can, by conversation with Kallik—”
“I’m not gonna get into the slavery bit, I promise. I’ll keep it to the negotiation, get in the middle of it if I can, that and nothing else.”
“I gave them no specific itinerary, but I may be able to reach them. Give me a few moments.” Graves hurried across to the communications complex on the other side of the room. After a few moments, E.C. Tally trailed after him.
“May I speak?” he whispered as Graves set to work at the terminal. “I do not deny, Councilor, that Louis Nenda and Atvar H’sial sometimes favor deceit. But recall our experiences on Serenity — it was precisely those elements of deceit that permitted us to overcome the Zardalu. And soon we will be facing Zardalu again.”
“What is your point?” Graves was only half listening. In his search for J’merlia and Kallik he was being bounced randomly from one signal center to another, first on Downside, then on Upside.
“That they may again be of value. Unlike most others in the spiral arm, Nenda and Atvar H’sial are fully convinced of the existence of the Zardalu. They know as much as anyone of Zardalu behavior patterns — more, perhaps, after their interaction with the immature form. They are also widely traveled, and at home in scores of planetary environments. You yourself have said that you expect our ship may have to explore fifty alien worlds, before we locate the hiding place of the Zardalu. Finally, we know that Louis Nenda and Atvar H’sial are brave and resourceful. Would it not therefore be logical to cease to argue with them, and instead recruit them to our cause?”
Graves paused in his frustrating struggle with the communications unit. “Why would they ever agree? They made it clear that all they want is to return to Glister and take possession of Nenda’s ship, the Have-It-All.”
“Like you, I am unfamiliar with the process that Louis Nenda terms cutting a deal. But it occurs to me that a mutually beneficial arrangement might be possible. It will surely be as difficult to return to Glister as it was to reach it originally. Nenda and Atvar H’sial know that. Suppose therefore that they help us now. And suppose that you in return offer the assistance and resources of our whole party in recovering the Have-It-All, as soon as our own goal has been accomplished. I know that Nenda has a high regard for Professor Lang. If we were to mention to him that she, too, will be part of our group…”
At the other side of the room, Nenda was deep in explanation to Atvar H’sial. He had been too busy arguing with Graves to maintain parallel pheromonal translation for the Cecropian’s benefit.
“I know you just want to get out of here, At, and not waste time talking with these turkeys. But a few minutes ago I had a thought. Here I am and here you are, stuck on Miranda without a credit to scratch your pedicel with. Now, why did we come here in the first place?”
“To claim possession of J’merlia and Kallik.”
“Sure. And why did we do that?”
“J’merlia is mine by right. I have been his dominatrix since he was first postlarval.”
“True — but we didn’t come here just to claim ’em, did we? We came here to claim ’em and rent ’em to others, so we could get the use of a ship. Now, suppose we keep pushing the fact that we own ’em. You know we’ll get into a big hassle with Graves — an’ we might lose. Where would that leave us?”
“I will tear off his ugly bald head.”
“Fine. And for an encore? Even if you don’t get scragged for it, we’ll still be stuck up Miranda Creek, without a paddle. You see, what we need, same thing that made us come here in the first place, is a ship. And that’s what J’merlia and Kallik are off buying, right now. So suppose they get one. And suppose instead of acting all bent out of shape about who owns who, we smile and say everything is just fine. And we go along with ’em on their ship, to help out — because you can bet they’ll need help, with whatever old piece of junk they get saddled with, or it won’t fly at all. So sooner or later there comes a time when most people are off doing something else, and there’s just you and me, or maybe you and me and J’merlia and Kallik, on board the ship—”
“Say no more.” Atvar H’sial’s blind white head was nodding. “I am persuaded. I have remarked before, Louis Nenda, that you are the most capable partner that I have ever had. So much so, I fear to trust you myself. But for the moment, we have few choices. Therefore I agree: we will proceed as you suggest — if our servants procure a ship.” The yellow horns turned to point across the room, to where E.C. Tally was hurrying toward them. “And that we may soon know.”
“Does he have ’em on the line?” Nenda asked as Tally came close.
The embodied computer shook his head. “Councilor Graves tracked J’merlia and Kallik to their last stop, but they had already left the sales center. They bought a ship, the Erebus, and now they are heading back here. They are reportedly highly excited and delighted with their purchase. Councilor Graves requested full specifications. They will be arriving shortly through his terminal.”
“Keep your fingers and claws crossed.” Nenda and Atvar H’sial followed Tally over to the communications unit. “The Miranda sales force has quite a reputation. Let’s hope what J’merlia and Kallik bought is a ship, and not a Builder bathtub. Here it comes. External dimensions…”
As the vessel’s physical parameters and performance characteristics began to unroll across the screen, Nenda summarized and commented on each section for Atvar H’sial’s benefit.
“Main cargo hold, eight point two million cubic meters. That’s more open cargo space than a superfreighter, plus there’s two big subsidiary holds. You could stow fifty millions tons of metal in the Erebus — and you could haul it halfway across the galaxy. Listen to these engine power figures.” The pheromonal message revealed Nenda’s surprise at what he was seeing. “And if you ever have main engine problems,” he went on, “there’s an auxiliary Bose Drive good for at least a dozen transitions. Here’s the ratings…”
Atvar H’sial was crouched close to the floor, her head nodding as the listing of internal and external dimensions and performance ratings went on. After ten minutes the Cecropian began to sit up straight, towering over the humans.
“Weapons?” The single word to Nenda carried an overtone of speculation.
“We’re just getting to ’em. You’ll love this, At, it’s the cream on the cake. Fifteen weapons centers in the main control room. Forty-four turrets, all around the ship and all fully independent. Each one has as much kick as a Lascelles complex — any one would beat what I had on the Have-It-All. Plus you can make a Dalton synthesis combining all turrets—”
“A question, Louis Nenda, for you to ask Julian Graves. How much did J’merlia and Kallik pay for the Erebus?”
“I don’t need to ask — it’s shown right here. One hundred and thirty-two thousand. Damnation, I see what you mean. That’s way too cheap.”
“Perhaps not, Louis. I would like the answer to one further question. How old is this ship?”
“That’s not shown on the listing.” Nenda turned to Julian Graves. “Can you interrupt the display for a query? Atvar H’sial is asking about the age of the Erebus.”
“No problem.” Graves had been leaning back in his chair, watching with huge satisfaction as the statistics rolled past. He entered Nenda’s query, then turned to face the Karelian. “I hope that this gives you increased faith in my methods, Mr. Nenda. I sent J’merlia and Kallik to negotiate for purchase of a ship. They have bought a ship — and what a ship! And at a most reasonable price. I ask you, do you believe that you, or Atvar H’sial, or anyone, could have found a better bargain? The moral of this is—”