"Signatories to the TriSystem revision of the Interstellar Uniform Commercial Code?"

"Yes," Ky said.

"Well, that simplifies things. Now-do you want to read this

yourself or shall I explain it?"

"I'll read it," Ky said.

"Since you have no legal representation, I am bound to assist you in

understanding anything that might be unclear-""Thank you," Ky said, reaching for the sheaf of hardcopies. He released them with seeming reluctance, and she opened the folder. Familiar terms stared back at her. Consignor, consignee, liability for this and that... she read through, carefully, mindful of lessons learned in the family, that it's the clause you skip over that destroys your profit when you don't fulfill it. When she looked up, she said, "I don't see anything about immunity in case of untoward circumstances not resulting from the negligence of Vatta Transport."

"They'll be on your ship, under your control," the lawyer said.

"What else-"

"Natural causes," Ky said. "And it's a war zone; I'm not going to have Vatta Transport held liable for stray shots, or capture by the other side."

The lawyer gave the major a long look, and then said, "All right...

we'll change it. Won't take a moment," and reached for the papers.

Ky handed back the one involving carrier liability and held onto the others. He glowered, but walked out with the one sheet.

"Lawyers," Major Harris said. "They always try something-of course, that's why we pay them."

"True," Ky said. "Our company legal staff's the same."

"They taught you well," Major Harris said. "Though we don't intend to have any accidents and blow you away..."

"Good," Ky said. They sat in almost-companionable silence until the lawyer came back, with a new page fourteen that included the missing clause. Ky read it, inserted it, and nodded. "All right-I'm ready to sign."

Major Harris signed for the Mackensee Military Assistance Corporation, and she signed for Vatta Transport, Ltd. The lawyer signed a line that specified the contract had been prepared in accordance with the Trisystem Universal Commercial Code. Then Major Harris stood up. "Let's get you back to your ship," he said.

"Your passengers will start arriving in about six hours. I'm sending a working party and nets to help with your cargo."

The trip back to Glennys Jones went swiftly. Ky and the members of the working party all wore pressure suits-there was still no way aboard except the little escape vacuum lock-and she sat webbed to the bulkhead in the back of one of the warship's assault shuttles, lurching to and fro with the abrupt changes of acceleration required by a rapid transit.

Ky went first through the lock, with two others, and on the inside a guard in armor waved her on up the passage. She drew a long breath; her ship still smelled like her ship, like home. She came out of the passage to find another guard, this one not in armor. This was a lean woman with close-cropped gray hair and PITT stenciled on her uniform. "You can take your pressure suit off here," the guard said. Ky stripped out of the suit, and the guard's eyes widened.

"Captain Vatta-you look great."

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry-you probably don't remember. I'm Master Sergeant Pitt, and I'm the one who knocked you down harder than I meant to."

"That's all right," Ky said. "And by the way, thanks for calling in

the medics." She suspected that for all the fine phrases in the Mackensee advertising, standard operating procedure would have been to finish her off.

Pitt shook her head. "Right thing to do. Anyway, they said you were coming back today; I'm glad to see you looking so well."

"How are my crew?" Ky asked.

"Fine. They've all been very sensible, and very worried about you."

"We now have a contract with Mackensee," Ky said. She pulled her

copy out of her uniform jacket. "Have they told you?"

"Yup. We're to help unload as many cargo holds as you say we need to, net and beacon the cargo, and then help you through

loading passengers. It's your ship, Captain. You tell us what we need to do, and we'll do it. For my sins, I'm your liaison."

"Right, then. First thing, I want to let the crew know I'm back, and

functional. Next, we'll get Mitt's assessment of the environmental system, and Gary's assessment of cargo-he'll know the easiest and fastest way to unload stuff."

"They're waiting in the rec area," Pitt said, nodding forward. "I'll just stay here and organize the working party. They'll need to stay in pressure suits."

Ky went forward to the rec area. Her crew were scattered around the tables, consuming some meal-she realized she was not oriented to ship's time and didn't know which it was-and talking quietly. No guard stood over them. That much was good. She wondered what to say, but then Quincy looked up and saw her.

"Ky-Captain! How are you?"

"Fine," Ky said. "I don't have an implant, though. What I do have is a contract."

"A contract!" Quincy looked almost angry. "We thought you were

dying-"

"Luckily not, though it was apparently a near thing. I've got my

medical record with me, if anyone's that curious. I'd just as soon not look-what they told me was scary enough."

"But-what do you mean by a contract?"

"Mackensee has hired Vatta Transport to care for some neutral civilian passengers while we're stuck here in this system. I know"- Ky held up her hand to forestall objections- "I know we don't have cabin space or comfortable facilities. I know all that. We're going to net our cargo and put it out with a beacon, to pick up later, and bed passengers in the cargo holds. Mitt, first thing, is our environmental system holding nominal in all ways?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Good, because we'll be stressing it. They're sending us fifty, and they'll be here in about five hours. Gary, what's the easiest hold to

unload that will hold fifty people for some days-room for pallets and some exercise space?"

"Standard configuration... not stacking bunks, just pallets? And we

don't have that many pallets-"

"They're coming, too. Wait-I'll get Master Sergeant Pitt." Pitt would know how much space to calculate, she was sure. Pitt did,

and in minutes Gary had figured out the simplest way to unload cargo and take on passengers.

That was the last quick and simple action of a day that had started in

sick bay and showed no signs of ending. The holds' pumps sucked out the air, leaving them ready for opening the cargo hatches to vacuum. Then the unloading began, with Gary Tobai handing out labels to stick on each part of the load, and on each netful. When they had the holds empty, the nets stuffed with equipment, they had only an hour to prepare the holds for their passengers.

Close the big hatches, release the air in the tanks... airing up was

one thing, but warming up quite another. The mercenaries' work crew, laying out bedrolls on the decking, positioning the portable toilets, showers, sinks, left puffs of breath smoke behind them. No time to hook up the plumbing, though all the equipment was positioned where it would be most convenient to the ship's existing lines. At least water wouldn't be a problem, with their existing stores and recycling.

"If you don't mind my asking, Captain," Master Sergeant Pitt said,

"have you ever been in charge of a refugee situation?"

"No," Ky said. Master Sergeant Pitt reminded her a lot of MacRobert, back at the Academy. "You have suggestions?"

"Yes, Captain, if you don't mind-"

"Not at all," Ky said. "Pretend I'm the greenest young officer you

ever saw-what would you try to get me to do, without actually telling me?"

Pitt grinned. "It's not my place to say, you know."

"No, it's your place to hint, insinuate, and invisibly lead." Ky

decided to come clean. "I don't know if they told you, Master Sergeant Pitt, but I'm a flunk out from the Slotter Key space academy, and if I'd paid closer attention to Master Sergeant MacRobert's hints, I wouldn't have trusted the wrong person and been kicked out."