Sweet Starfire (8 page)

“No more than I represent a convention of Saints. Good ID, though. I’m not surprised you bought their story. And they must have had some good connections too. It’s not that easy to get hold of an official mail ship bypass.”

“Why were they trying to steal your cargo?”

“Those sensors we’ve got on board are one of a kind gadgets. The latest designs out of ExcellEx labs. The company wants them shipped to their exploration post on Renaissance.”

“I’ve never heard of ExcellEx.”

“It’s a small outfit run by a tough little guy who left one of the big exploration companies a few seasons ago to start his own firm. His name’s Quench. He’s shrewd, and he’s willing to slit throats when necessary. I’ve handled a few private shipments for him lately. He seems satisfied. If he can get ExcellEx up and running within the next three or four seasons, he’ll own one of the hottest exploration companies in the system.”

“And you’ll be one of his most trusted mailmen. He’ll give you the most lucrative runs. Maybe even employ you full-time so you won’t have to scrounge for shipments.”

Severance showed his teeth. “Nobody ever said Harmonics aren’t as fast as everyone else when it comes to figuring out a business deal.”

“Harmonics have to be fast at analyzing business situations,” Cidra informed him demurely. “If they weren’t, they’d get eaten alive by unscrupulous Wolves.”

“They seem to do all right. Where do you think the phrase ‘rich as a Saint’ comes from? I don’t know of too many poor ones, except perhaps for the young ones who are still doing research or perfecting their art and music.”

Cidra shrugged and instantly regretted it as the pain flared back to life in her head. Severance was right. The Harmonics participated in the freewheeling business practices that dominated commerce throughout the Stanza Nine system. Clementia produced and marketed the results of scientific research, as well as fine art, poetry, and music that thrilled the senses. Wolves were a ready market for the talents of Clementia. But when it came to business, Harmonics couldn’t rely on the customary goodwill of the general population. Agents who were Wolves, themselves, were used for the often fierce negotiating that took place when a Harmonic product went up for sale. Her own father had made a sizable fortune selling sophisticated investment strategies. Constructing and analyzing complex economic models of the wide-ranging commerce of the worlds of Stanza Nine was a hobby for Gam Oquist. He was a mathematician by training and inclination.

Cidra considered what she had just been told. “So someone else wants those sensors?”

“Looks like it. Since they’re supposed to be top secret, that presents an interesting problem.” Severance finished untwisting one long braid. He drew his fingers down through it slowly. There was an oddly preoccupied expression on his face as he watched the red highlights hidden in Cidra’s hair come to life in the thick stuff.

Cidra, herself, found it difficult to maintain a casual conversational tone as she asked, “If the sensors are so valuable, why weren’t they shipped out on a commercial freighter under company guard?” Instead of answering right away, Severance began to work on the second braid. This time his hand seemed to be almost resting on her breast as he began unwinding the strands. And when he spoke, Cidra heard a new harshness in his voice.

“In addition to the fact that it costs three times as much to ship that way, Quench wasn’t sure it would really buy him any protection. There’s no method of keeping that kind of shipment secret. He was hoping that if he sent the sensors with me on a normal private mail hop, no one would notice. It was a risk, but that’s how you make good credit.”

“Well, someone did notice.” Cidra began to breathe again as Severance’s fingers moved upward. A part of her felt strangely disappointed, but another part was appalled at her own sensual curiosity. She had been so sure she had outgrown the very un-Harmonic desire for physical knowledge that had tormented her socially as a young girl. “Do you know who?”

“Who knew the shipment was traveling with me? No. I have no idea.”

“Those men who came into the ship…”

“Were probably mercenaries. No telling who hired them.”

“What did you do with them?”

“Stuffed ‘em into a storage locker outside the terminal at Lovelorn.” He finished his self-appointed task and sat back on his haunches to survey the effect. Cidra’s soft red-brown hair flowed in a cape over her shoulders. He stared at it for a moment, and then his eyes shifted to catch her questioning gaze. “They’re lucky I didn’t leave them with something more permanent than a killer of a headache.”

The coldness in him reached Cidra in a wave, chilling her to the bone. For the first time since she had left Clementia she allowed herself to remember that murder was not an unheard-of crime among Wolves. A movement around her ankles broke the spell. Grateful for the small interruption, she turned her head to see Fred undulating into a more comfortable position across her legs.

“Fred was quite a hero. You should have seen him go after that one guard,” Cidra said with a weak smile.

Severance’s attention stayed on her profile. “I saw what he did to the renegade’s leg.”

“I wondered earlier if Fred might bite. I guess I know now.”

“He did a little more than bite the bastard. Fred’s got three layers of teeth. When he starts chewing on something, he makes a real meal out of it.” Severance stood up beside the bunk. “Think you’ll be okay?”

Hastily Cidra nodded. “My head is much better, thank you.”

Severance leaned forward, his face suddenly very intent. “It wasn’t Fred who was the hero. He was only acting out of instinct. You were the one who had to go against some fairly strong conditioning to try to stop those two renegades. I know Harmonics normally don’t get mixed up with safeguards. I owe you, lady.”

Cidra realized that she was feeling inordinately pleased by his words. She smiled for the first time since she had awakened with the awful headache but offered the formal response to his praise. “It was as nothing. No sense of obligation is required.”

Severance stared at her for an instant and then grinned. “That’s a Harmonic for you: Polite to the last drop of blood.” He turned from the bunk. “Feel like a cup of coffade?”

“Yes, thank you.” Cidra lay back carefully on the bunk, aware that she now missed the comfort of his touch. It said a lot about her weakened condition that she would have liked to have him continue to hold her.

She watched as he dialed open the compact preserver and removed the container of green crystals. He poured the coffade into two mugs and shoved both into the heater. The machine added water and brought the mixture to a quick boil. Severance opened the heater and brought one of the mugs over to Cidra. He held the other one in his fist as he watched her cup her hands around the pleasantly warmed mug.

“When you’re feeling better, we’re going to have a talk.”

She inhaled the fragrant steam. “I realize that. You’ll probably want to outline my duties for the next two weeks. I’m really feeling much better already. We can talk now if you like.”

“Your duties,” he repeated, sounding as if he were repressing a groan. He dropped down onto the bunk beside her, staring at the bulkhead. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his thighs, the mug of coffade loosely suspended between his knees. “Yes, there is the little matter of your duties on board. We’ll come to that later. There are other things that have to be resolved first. You’ve never been in space?”

“My parents took me on a commercial freighter once when I was younger. It was more of a sight-seeing trip than anything else. Other than that, I haven’t spent any time on a ship.”

“Uh-huh.” He paused, apparently trying to find the exact words. “You will note that, as I mentioned over dinner, mere is very little room in here.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t think I’m claustrophobic. Of course, I haven’t spent several days in a confined area before. But I’m sure I’ll be able to handle this.”

“Claustrophobia is not what I was worrying about.” He took a long sip of the coffade. “Let’s see if I can put this so that it sounds reasonably diplomatic. Harmonics, as I understand it, are accustomed to a great deal of privacy.”

“Yes.”

“They are also accustomed to a great deal of personal independence.”

“Of course.” She waited expectantly, wondering where he was leading.

“There Is very little of either on board ship,” Severance concluded bluntly. “Small mail ships such as this one are not exactly bastions of democracy. The only way we’re going to survive without resorting to violence over the next couple of weeks is if you understand that I’m in charge. I know Harmonics are brought up to question everything. But around here, when I give an order, I am not bringing the issue up for debate. Whenever there is a choice about the way something is done, we do it my way.”

Cidra told herself not to be offended, but she knew her voice sounded overly formal. “I assure you I understand the tradition of a captain being in charge of his own ship.”

He looked at her in mild astonishment. “You do?”

“I read a great deal,” she confided. “I’m a trained archivist. One of my areas of expertise is the fiction written about the First Families and the early explorations.”

“Wonderful.” His mouth crooked dryly as he took another swallow of the coffade. “I’m sure all that reading will have prepared you to slip right into shipboard life. I’ve had trouble with the few previous passengers I’ve had on board, but I can see that won’t be the case with you.”

Perhaps the residual pain in her head was making her more sensitive than usual. Whatever the reason, Cidra felt a touch of annoyance. “There’s no reason to be flippant. If you’ve had trouble with previous passengers, my guess is it’s because you were impolite or abrupt in your manner of giving orders.”

“Orders sometimes have a way of sounding rude and abrupt. I just want it clear that the tone of voice in which they are given does not alter the fact that they’re still orders. Understood?”

“I have the feeling I’ve just received the first command. Message clear and comprehended, Otan Severance.”

“I’ve told you to skip the Otan.”

“Would you prefer that I address you as Captain Severance?”

“Now who’s being flippant?” he drawled. “Use my name. Either name. I don’t think the informality will do much damage to the sense of discipline in the remainder of the crew.” He glanced at Fred.

“Did Fred ever have any sense of discipline to begin with?” Cidra asked.

“Not a lot.” Severance was quiet for a while. “I don’t suppose you know how to play Free Market?”

“Harmonics do not gamble.”

“I was afraid of that. It’s going to be a long two weeks, isn’t it?”

Cidra hesitated. But she did want to be as accommodating as possible. “I could learn to play the game,” she offered tentatively. “It’s not necessary to make wagers, is it? I expect that the game is played the same, with or without credit being exchanged.”

“The stakes are what make the game interesting.”

“Oh. Well, it’s a moot point. I don’t have anything to put forth as a wager except perhaps a few novels on data slips. I don’t imagine that would interest you.” She felt relieved. She had made the offer, and it was obvious that Severance wasn’t too excited about it. Cidra felt off the hook.

“I could try teaching you the game first, and then we can decide whether you’ve got anything worth wagering,” Severance said slowly.

A faint thread of wariness unfurled inside Cidra. She studied Teague’s unreadable face. “I’ve heard that many Wolves are quite addicted to gambling.”

‘“It’s just a way of passing time. A form of recreation. Not to be taken too seriously.”

“Then you are not one of the addicts?” she asked cautiously.

Severance smiled, that same grin that showed so many fine, strong teeth and so little real humor. “Of course not. I’m only a casual player.”

“Oh, good.” She felt vastly relieved. “Well, in that case, I suppose I could attempt to learn to play Free Market.”

“We’ll give it a whirl after we’ve had some sleep. I keep standard Lovelady days on board ship.” He got to his feet. “Think you can make it up into your own bunk? Or do you want me to carry you?”

Gingerly Cidra started to sit up. Fred moved off her feet with a low, grumbling sound. Cidra ignored him, concentrating on her body’s reactions to the movement. Her head still hurt, but the pain seemed distant, a dull threat but not a major disaster any longer. She massaged her temple, aware of a vague sense of weary disappointment.

“What’s the matter? Still feel like your head’s going to explode?” Severance slid a rough hand under her curtain of hair and began kneading the nape of her neck.

“It’s not that. I feel much better. It’s just that—” She broke off and moved her hand in a gesture of dismay. “I shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t feel much better?”

“Never mind. It’s hard to explain.”

Severance continued to work on the base of her neck. “Still worrying because you don’t have a Saint’s catatonic reaction to pain?”

“It’s just one more reminder that I have a long way to go before I become a Harmonic. You must understand. I don’t want to feel pain. No one does. But every time I do, I’m aware of the fact that I don’t react to it in a normal fashion.”

“Normal for a Saint.”

“That’s what I was born to be, Severance,” she said with soft insistence. “I remember once when I was very young. I had slipped away from my parents and was trying to climb into one of the plaza fountains in Clementia. They’re so beautiful with the light beads mixed into the water. I wanted to go swimming in that beautiful, shining water. That was before I realized that one didn’t do that sort of thing,” she added hastily.

“Naturally. Very un-Saintlike, climbing into a fountain.”

“Yes, well, I slipped and fell, cutting myself. But I was so excited by having gotten into the fountain at last that I didn’t pay much attention to the fact that I was bleeding into the water. When my mother found me, she nearly went into shock. Everyone nearby was horrified. Someone came rushing up with a dose of oblivo, and the next thing I knew, I woke up in a med facility. I found out several years later that small wounds such as the one I had gotten in the fountain are treated rather casually among Wolves.”