Her eyes hardened, and a sharp edge turned her voice into a whip. "A lot of people love animals and take tri-dees of them, too, but they don't often get results like you've got tacked up on your office wall. Do you use some sort of compulsion to force your subjects to appear and then pose and freeze in place for you?"

Jellico flushed so that the scar stood out white on his cheek, but he said nothing. The rebuke had been neatly delivered. It was not an overreaction, either. Had the Medic been a real member of the crew, it might have been different. There would have been strong bonds of trust and confidence between them then, though his right to pry would have been no greater. As it was, any admission of esper abilities could prove highly dangerous for Rael Cofort.

Van Rycke cleared his throat. "I suppose I can consider myself answered," he said to break the uncomfortable silence that followed. "Well, whatever the extent of your talents, Doctor, we've got reason to be grateful to them. They've done good work all along and have topped it off by locating a potentially very nice prize for us."

The Medic inclined her head in formal acknowledgment. "Thank you, Mr. Van Rycke."

"We seem to be finished here," he said. "The day's Still young, and there's a good part of the market still left unexplored. - Thorson, you'd best stay here and cla.s.sify our new acquisitions. Log it all in and stow everything."

"Aye," Dane responded cheerfully. He had been antic.i.p.ating that.

"Doctor Cofort may be able to give you a hand later," Jellico suggested.

He glanced at the woman. "Write up a report about these rubies now, while the details're fresh in your memory.

Describe the purchase in full and put down all our surmises, clearly labeled as such. Just in case those stones should prove to be hot, I want as much doc.u.mentation on hand as possible to attest to our innocence."

"Aye, Captain. - I'll just say we bought the sets by chance, though, if you don't mind. We're doing this to settle potential questions, not raise more."

"Handle it however you think best. If I want more or something different, I'll tell you when I see the report."

The four dispersed. Dane and Van Rycke hurried to be about their work.

Cofort moved quickly as well to get on with her a.s.signment, but Miceal stopped her at the door. "How about some jakek?"

"Fine. I always enjoy a cup," the Medic responded, silently adding a mental reservation about quality. Jellico would never rival Mr. Mura in a galley, Hael Cofort entered her commander's office first, automatically activating the cabin lights as she did so. Queex gave a delighted whistle at the sight of her but did not forget the duties of a hoobat for all his pleasure at this particular human's visit. He glared suspiciously at the door to see who else might be invading his territory.

Since only its rightful occupant followed, he satisfied himself with a single, decidedly unmusical call and grasped the bars with four of his legs, ready to leap out as soon as the door opened.

The woman did not disappoint him. She laughed softly and slid into Jellico's chair so that she could comfortably reach the hoobat's cage, then slipped the latch and swung the barrier back. In that instant, Queex was airborne in a spring that carried him to her upper arm. From there, he scurried to her shoulder.

Cofort braced her hand against the edge of the desk. At that signal, Queex descended to her forearm and draped himself across it, three appendages dangling on each side.

She began to rub the area between and around the protuberant eyes until he relaxed into a limp image of ecstasy.

The Captain watched them a moment and shook his head, "Are you sure you're not working some sort of spell on him?"

"Haven't you ever had a really good ma.s.sage?" she countered. "Besides, he's such a sweetheart. It's easy to please him. - Isn't it, little pet?"

As if in answer, the odd creature started to emit a quiet, purring whistle.

Miceal said nothing. Any response he might have made-in any one of several languages-would have been appropriate only in very different company. He was fond of Queex himself, considerably more than he would publicly admit, but Rael Cofort was the only person he had ever met, human or xeno, who could call a hoobat a sweetheart and little pet.

He rolled the chair and its two occupants aside and opened the bottom drawer of the desk. Jellico took a big thermos from it. This he held to his ear and shook briskly.

The resulting sloshing sound told him it was still about half full, so he stood it upright in the s.p.a.ce he cleared for it between two stacks of papers and set the controls for reheat. That done, he retrieved two cups from the same drawer and put one before the Medic, the other beside himself as he casually dropped into the visitor's chair. "It'll be ready in a couple of minutes."

When a buzz announced that the jakek was hot, he filled his guest's cup and his own.

Rael sipped the dark liquid, concealing her grimace behind the thick rim. Jakek was making great headway all along the starlanes, threatening to supplant the caffeine-laden Terran coffee as the Federation's all-around beverage of choice. The crew of the Solar Queen, though, with the exception of herself and the Captain, remained staunchly loyal to the traditional brew despite the fact that it was available only in synthetic or concentrate form to s.p.a.ce hounds plying the rim. Jellico appreciated too well how much the Steward had to do to demand special luxuries for himself. He usually prepared his own in the thermos, rather to the detriment of its flavor. For the four-hundredth time, she vowed to get up early some morning soon and wheedle or pummel Frank Mura into letting her loose in his precious galley, Jakek was heavily used on the Roving Star, and she could program a range ...

She felt the man's eyes on her and looked up. His expression was somber. "Do you doubt my story?"

"I'm just sorry we put you through that inquisition in there."

"You had to ask, didn't you?"

"Aye, but we seem to make a habit of tearing your wounds. I don't enjoy tormenting you."

She looked into the steaming liquid. "There's no disgrace in my ancestry, and I don't mind speaking about my mother. She was respected and greatly liked as well as loved. All the crew who knew her told me that. Father was the only one who'd never talk about her."

"He blamed you?" Jellico asked gently.

"No, but he held himself responsible. I think it must have been with him all the time. He loved her, you see."

She sighed. "None of us knew how much until he was dying. He never called for me or Teague or Teague's mother. Just for her. I believe he was glad to be joining her."

The man nodded slowly. His younger comrades would not have understood that, but he had lived long enough, experienced enough, that he could comprehend it somewhat.

Another thought struck him suddenly. "Your mother was a Medic, too?" he ventured.

"Among her own people, aye, or so we believed. She never actually admitted to it, or to much else about her past. She apparently had buried that completely when she came with my father. It is one of the reasons I was drawn to the profession, I suppose. She fought so hard for me, battled to remain alive long enough that I could live without her. I felt I owed it to her to do something positive with myself, to try to make some return for that struggle."

"Apart from being happy?"

Rael looked closely at him. "I don't knock that goal, friend, but medicine is in me, rising from several springs. This is undoubtedly one of them, and to my mind, it's as valid as any of the others."

"No doubt it is." He smiled. "You're a strong-willed woman, Rael Cofort, for all your quiet manner. I have trouble envisioning you being stampeded into any major course unsuited to you."

When they had finished the jakek, Jellico came to his feet and took the empty cups. He would drop them off in the galley on his way out. "You can keep Queex company and work in here if you want. Take your time, but if you do finish soon enough, see if you can't give Thorson a hand. Bear in mind, though, that he's boss with respect to Cargo when Van's away." , "I was born a Free Trader," the woman responded irritably. "I think I know the protocol."

"Aye, but you've also managed to establish yourself as something of an authority in the kinds of goods he'll be cataloging. - Dane's good. I don't want him overawed into surrendering either his authority or his duties."

"He won't be," she promised.

Miceal studied her somberly. He was not quite sure that he believed her, or, rather, that he should believe her. That mixed-blood story was an old standby for gaining sympathy, although in this case there was a considerable body of apparent evidence to support the Medic's a.s.sertions. He could not press her further, either, not yet. Her frankness- or seeming frankness-had tied him. He had no facts or so much as a solid suspicion to lay against her, and if he pushed Rael now, it would have to be in a serious challenge that could only result in the termination of her a.s.sociation with the Solar Queen. He was not ready to force that. He did not want to force it.

Morally, he could not do so without significant cause.

Canuche Town was not Trewsworld, and it was most a.s.suredly no place to abandon this particular woman. She had done extremely well for Deke Tatarcoff out there in the market, but the method by which she accomplished that service might well have bought her a pa.s.sage straight into disaster.

Jellico hesitated. More than restraint from initiating a clash between them was required of him. As long as Cofort remained part of the Queen's company, it was his duty to see to her safety, but apart from the two services, the Navy and Patrol, a starship's Captain could exert only so much control over the surplanetary off-duty activities of his crew.

d.a.m.n it, there was danger! It might be only potential, but it was quite real. "I don't know your plans for tonight, but I don't want you, or any of the others for that matter, wandering about Canuche Town alone or even in pairs. Go in at least fours or not at all, which is what I would prefer."

He braced himself. No independent-minded Free Trader, particularly one not even bound long-term to his ship, was likely to accept that remark or the imperious tone in which it had been uttered with any semblance of good grace.

Whatever her instinctive reaction, however, the woman's temper held. Her eyes narrowed, and she studied him sharply. "What's the matter, Miceal?" she asked quietly.

He sighed. "Beauty's a commodity in Happy City. If any of its creatures happened to witness your work with that piece of Thornen silk, they'll set the value of a small river tear, and a prime stone at that, on you and maybe more depending on their specific interests. The most spineless vermin in the ultrasystem would try to grab a prize like that if they thought they could get away with it." Anger shot through him, hot and sharp. "Whatever you do with your life, I won't see you slaving for those subbiotics!"

Rael's head lowered. "I'm aware of that possibility," she told him. "I wasn't planning on taking chances. As for wandering around, after that business with the port rats, I don't find the idea of exploring Canuche Town after dark particularly appealing. Once the markets and shops close, there isn't much here apart from the restaurants to draw me away from the Queen anyway. I'll be happier and better occupied working on Doctor Tau's study."

The Captain's anger deepened. Aye, he thought bitterly, she would have to have recognized that peril. Comeliness was as a rule an a.s.set in Trade, particularly when dealing with humans, who tended to respond favorably to those they considered to be attractive. Anything greatly beyond that was another matter. Too striking an appearance could be a decided disadvantage under a great many circ.u.mstances, and Rael Cofort would have been a potential target even as a very young girl.

Sympathy swept over him. He wanted to take her in his arms, hold and shield her . . .

Jellico resisted that impulse, but he did not want to leave the Medic with the gloom he had aroused weighing her down. He made himself smile, as if at himself. "I've wasted a lot of breath with that warning," he said. "You know, or should know, all of it as well as I do. - s.p.a.ce, I may have some years on you, but given the fact that you were born on a freighter, there probably isn't all that much disparity in the amount of time we've spent wandering around the starlanes."

Her eyes sparkled. "You've certainly put it to better use, then, m.

[MISSING TEXT] berth." back onto writ' ifth ston very far."

"I are sitting t command c approximal welcome sc afford to buy natural jewels. Synthetics could broaden the Solar Queen's potential customer base enormously, in fact, given their greater intensity of color, the cheaper article might actually prove the preferred item in some markets.

The credit outlay to get started would not be much, either, and the test stock would claim only a minute portion of their ever-precious cargo s.p.a.ce.

The apprentice nodded to himself in satisfaction. He needed to do some more reading. Then he would put together the figures, outline probable good markets and a Trade strategy, and lay his proposal before his chief.

Van Rycke should go for it. Making a profit, not exposing obscure murder plots, was the Queen's function in life, and this looked like a fine chance to open up a brand-new subfield and effectively monopolize it, at least in this Sector, for a couple or maybe three years until the other Traders caught wise and could move on their own accounts.

"Dane! I thought you were still in the hold."

He looked up. Rip Shannon had just come into the crew's cabin and was looking at him in mild surprise. "I finished up there twenty minutes ago," he responded.

The other's dark face clouded. "I saw Rael go down nearly that long ago, and the hatch was still unfastened when I glanced at it just now."

Thorson straightened. "That calls for some investigation."

"Easy, friend," Rip said hastily. "She probably has a good reason ..."

"She's got no right to be there, not without the CargoMaster's approval, or mine in Van Rycke's absence."

"You want some help?"

That gave him pause. "No," he replied slowly. "I'm not accusing her of anything." Once more, his expression hardened. "Just stick around. If I'm not back reasonably fast, come looking for me, and be real careful when you do."

Dane grimaced at the melodramatic cast of his whole reaction to his shipmate's announcement. Blast Rael Cofort anyway, he thought irritably. Why was it that she seemed to bring out that in him, or managed to get them all involved in situations that demanded an oversized response?

On Ali Kamil, it might look good. He, on the other hand, made a ridiculous hero.

All the same, he did not stop. Cargo and Trade goods were his responsibility. He had no choice but to check out any interference with either. A sabotaged shipment had once given the Queen galaxy-cla.s.s trouble, and he was not about to risk a replay of that. There was neither profit nor pleasure in the close proximity of extremely unpleasant death.

Cofort was still in the hold when the Cargo-apprentice reached it moments later. Everything looked to be in order, and there was nothing to indicate what she had been doing since her arrival, but she had the examination length of the silver fabric out and had unfolded a corner of it. This she was holding out from her so that she could view it against the gray background of the hold and against the warm, pale flesh of her other hand.

Thorson cleared his throat. The woman glanced at him, then looked again at the silver net. "I didn't have a chance to examine our acquisitions closely before. This is really lovely. You did very well with it."

Rael sighed as she returned the length to its place.

"When I was aboard the Roving Star," she said bitterly, "I listened to Teague and didn't buy any such basically useless luxuries. Now, I can't afford them. I'll never be able to have them, either, not as long as I remain a virtuous, hardworking rim Free Trader."

The Medic stopped speaking, seeing the open suspicion in her companion. "Power down, boy," she snapped. "No Cofort's ever turned jack. I don't intend to start any new traditions in that line."

"You wouldn't admit it if you did," he replied, trying to make his response sound light but not quite succeeding.

Rael shrugged delicately. "We deal with some beautiful things. I'm not expected to be immune to the charms of all of them, I hope. - You certainly aren't."

The man started, and her lips curved into a smile that was not all good-humored sympathy. "I saw the way you looked at that leather utility belt before you settled for the one you bought. If you can want a lot of things you can't have, why deny me the same right?"

"But you can have some of this," he countered quickly, picking up on what he saw as the flaw in her argument. "There's nothing stopping a crew member from buying part of a cargo for personal use. This is faux cloth, not the real thing. A small length of it wouldn't run you that much."

She shook her head. "You don't have enough of it to split your stock. Twelve full bolts isn't much to offer as it is. Any less, and you can wave farewell to the hope of a quick bulk sale."

"You're so concerned about the Solar Queen's profits?" Dane demanded sarcastically.

Rael's chin lifted. "One is always loyal to the ship to which one is bound, however long or short the term of service."

"So tradition goes," he said. "I haven't been out of Pool and in s.p.a.ce long enough to see if it actually holds true or not."

"It holds. Usually. The ships where it doesn't have a tendency to disappear with all hands. Besides, Cargo-Master Van Rycke isn't likely to fragment the value of his stock by selling off part of it at this stage." Her response had been cold. Dane Thorson was too sensitive about his youth and lack of experience to call attention to them if he wasn't trying to be smart. "While I'm with the Queen, I'll serve her interests."

"And afterward?"

"Afterward, I'll compete with her if I have to. So will you, most likely, when you finally qualify."

Both were silent for some moments after that.

Rael's eyes fell first. "That was a low blow. I'm sorry, and sorry I was down here without your say. I came looking for you as per Jellico's instructions, but I should've left again when I didn't find you. I guess I just fell into old habits. I had free run of the Star's holds."

"You were good with cargo, I suppose?" he asked sourly. Why not? She was good with everything any way important to him.

"Very good with a lot of it. Teague wanted me for CargoMaster. He was furious when I opted for Medic training instead." Her back seemed to straighten. "Maybe I was wrong. I liked cargo work and frontline Trade, and unquestionably, I'd have been more useful to him in that capacity, but medicine had the stronger call. I chose to answer it and stuck by that decision."

"That's why you left the Star?"

"No," she said wearily. Her mouth hardened. "I left, Thorson. I wasn't kicked off. I've given reasons why. If you don't choose to believe them, well, that's nothing much to either of us, is it?"

Dane decided to try one more tack, although he doubted he would accomplish anything. If the Medic was playing them false, she had thought her role through thoroughly. She had not lacked an answer yet for any question they had put to her. Even Van Rycke and Jellico had not been able to trap her or trip her up.

"By the sound of it, you had some real credits at your disposal on the Roving Star. Have you been on your own so long that you're completely wiped out?" He felt uncomfortable asking that. It was none of his business and crossed the border into discourtesy by a considerable margin. Cofort would be within her rights to tell him to go fire his burners someplace.

The woman frowned but kept rein on her temper. "No, I haven't been on the loose that long. The bulk of my former earnings as well as my inheritance from my father are hatching in the Star's account. Teague wouldn't release them."

"What?"

For the first time, she gave him a genuine smile. "He's not a villain of the starlanes. Everything's sitting quite properly in a trust. My brother's not using it. He can't. He's just holding it until I latch onto a permanent berth."

"You're out of your minority."