He found Mura seated in his familiar alcove just off the galley, to all intents and purposes totally absorbed in the delicate process of creating another of his plasglas-bound miniature landscapes.
"I thought we were out of coffee," Jellico said.
Frank glanced up with the seeming imperturbability of his Japanese ancestors. "I had a bit left. Since we’re docking soon, thought I might as well brew it up before it goes stale."
Jellico took in a deep, appreciative breath as he drew a steaming mug.
"There’s rice and vegetables as well, and some spiced kursta sauce to go over it," Mura added without turning around.
Jellico found the plate waiting, the food hot and fresh.
He carried it and his coffee into the mess, and sat down. Four crew members were already there, empty plates set aside, hot drinks before them. The three men had not heard Jellico, who habitually walked soundlessly, come in; of the group only Rael Cofort looked up. She sent him a considering blue glance that was impossible to interpret, then turned her attention back to the others.
Ali’s back was to Jellico. He had a recorder at hand. As the captain watched, the engineer apprentice keyed it, saying, "All right, how about this one?"
A weird sound emanated from the recorder, a quick sound that reminded Jellico of someone tapping a bow on a viola.
"I know," Dane Thorson said. The big cargo apprentice knuckled one vast hand through his yellow hair, making it spike up, as he said, "Agreement, with Elements of Distrust."
Ali hooted. "Wrong, old boy. Agreement, with Elements of Question."
Dane shook his head. "The question noise drops down a note on each beat. Whoop, whoop, whoop. Distrust sounds more like that did— ik, ik, ik . Surprise is even faster, like kee-keekeek."
"Bet," Ali said promptly.
Dane snorted. "Play the tape."
Ali slapped his hand on the recorder—and a dispassionate human voice said, "Kanddoyd emotional modification indicating Agreement, with Elements of Distrust."
Dane grinned, Ali groaned, and Jasper Weeks snorted a quiet laugh.
"Another," Ali demanded. "One more."
Dane sighed. "Go ahead, but you’ve been right three out of—"
"Who’s counting?" Ali cut in.
"Three out of eighteen," Dane finished remorselessly. "If I’d taken any of your bets, you’d be doing my chores for the next five years."
Ali threw up his hands in mock despair as the other three laughed at him. "All right, all right, I concede. Piqued, repiqued, slammed, and capotted, as my grandfather used to say. I see I have a week of studying ahead of me."
Dane said, suddenly serious, "We’ll need that smooth tongue of yours. We sure can’t afford to buy any data. And remember, this is just Trade lingo. There’s a whole ’nother set of overtones we can’t even hear." He nudged Jasper. "Show him."
Jasper pulled back his sleeve and showed the others a brooch band.
"Hmm. Handsome," Ali said. "Didn’t know you were a man for jewelry."
"Not," Jasper said. "It’s an ultrasonic detector I put together."
"We broke open a small case of the carapace jewels," Dane said. "Put this together—Weeks is making one for Jan and another for me. The detectors will let us hear some of the Kanddoyds’ ultrasonics, but about all we’ll know is that something else is being said. We haven’t any translators for High Kanddoyd, and won’t be able to afford them."
Ali rose to his feet with a loud sigh. "And here I had my leave time all planned out."
"Cheer up," Jasper said. "You couldn’t afford it anyway."
Ali waved him off, turned, and all three noticed Jellico sitting behind them. The captain repressed the urge to smile at the variety of expressions on their faces, each characteristic of its owner. Dane, of course, looked abashed. Ali grinned, hiding his surprise behind a mask of amused indifference. Jasper Weeks nodded respectfully, his shy gaze dropping to his hands. Rael Cofort, of course, smiled with her customary maddeningly enigmatic control.
"I’m for the rack," Ali said. "Thanks to you, to dream of Kanddoyds rubbing their exoskeletons in tuneful harmony."
"Just make sure you interpret them right," Dane said, with a salute to the captain before he followed Ali out.
Jasper Weeks drank off his mug, put it in the recycler, then softly bid everyone a good sleep. A moment later he was gone.
Rael Cofort rose and made to follow, her graceful form showing no sign of the high acceleration, but when she paused to glance back, Jellico gave in to impulse and stayed her with a gesture.
Her brows rose slightly, and he opened his hand in open invitation.
She sat down across from him, both her small, capable hands closed on her mug. She said nothing, but looked at him in question.
He glanced up briefly, his gaze not missing any detaiclass="underline" the long, auburn hair worn in a braided crown round her head, the thick-lashed dark blue eyes, the slight build mostly hidden in a too-large brown Trader’s tunic.
"How are the cats?" he asked.
"Recovering rapidly," she said. "If the tests for unknown biota continue to prove negative, we ought to be able to let them roam after we dock."
He nodded, and as she seemed poised to get up again, he pointed with his chin toward the place where the four had been sitting. "Still studying the crew?"
She countered lightly, "Am I hearing Question with Elements of Distrust?" Her eyes narrowed. "I thought I proved my intentions were honest."
He realized he’d started all wrong. The woman had proved herself trustworthy several times over—more than any of his other crew had had to do. And by now she probably knew it, and with typical compassion did not resent it. He owed her honesty, at least. "You’re a valued member of the Queen's crew," he said. "They all trust you. As do I. I’ll rephrase the question: do you think it’s necessary to study the others?"
The corners of her well-shaped mouth deepened. "That makes it sound like I regard them as lab experiments."
"Don’t you?"
"Of course not. What makes you think I did?" She looked surprised—and a little wary.
Jellico frowned, trying to sort through his reactions. Everything he said to Cofort came out sounding antagonistic. He knew why. It had nothing to do with her brother being a rival, and very successful, Trader. It was simply because he found her attractive, so attractive he tried to counterbalance his reaction with a dispassionate attitude. "The way you talk to them. Ask questions about their backgrounds."
Rael Cofort smiled wryly. "I know the old Trader etiquette: you don’t ask a person’s past. I just happen to think it’s wrong. It sets up an artificial barrier between people, keeps an artificial distance between them. A ship is like a family, or should be."
Jellico frowned, thinking this over. "In my own training I was told repeatedly that we need those boundaries, for the physical boundaries of a ship moving for weeks through hyper are cramped enough."
"Have you found that to be true?" she asked.
He shrugged slightly, drinking a sip of coffee. "My first posting—I was younger than Thorson when he came to us— the captain took me aside and said, ’Keep your background and your opinions to yourself. The less the others know, the less they’ll use against you if there’s a squabble. Found out later there’d been two deadly fights. I’ve followed that advice ever since, and never regretted it."
Her long eyelashes lowered over her eyes, effectively shuttering their expression. He looked at the sweep of those lashes on her cheek, then transferred his gaze to the reflections in his coffee.
"So you’re warning me not to talk to the crew, is that it?"
He repressed an impatient exclamation. "No," he said. "I guess I’m telling you why they are the way they are. A crew picks up the captain’s habits, sometimes. They’re all quiet, not by orders, but by inclination. Custom. Habit. But we’ve gotten on well together."