"Hey, this Ladade backed down real quick when you said you were Zainal," Jax said admiringly.
"See that you prove my ability to teach you properly," was Zainal's reply.
She did, concentrating on the job. As they made their approach, Zainal kept checking the screen for any navigational anomaly. Al-though there were stiff penalties for abusing Barevian space, there were also hazards, which he hoped to help Jax avoid. The barges that carried inter-system traffic were known to deviate from their pro-jected courses and provide obstacles. She had her eyes open for such problems and kept one eye on the screens.
"This is a very active spaceport?" she asked Zainal when he pointed out an erratic ship for her to avoid. "And I thought there was a lot of junk in Earth space!" She pointed to the mass in the upper starboard quadrant.
"Oh, that," Zainal replied, shrugging it off. "That's real space junk. Barevi port facility is equipped to do major overhauls and refits. That's where they put carcasses and damaged structural members. And ships that don't pay their docking charges."
"Oh? When they haven't a bean left?" she asked, flashing a quick grin at him.
She really was a good pilot, Zainal thought, wondering whom he should train next on their return to Botany. There were plenty of willing candidates. He had watched all of them on the simulator and they all had good reflexes and instincts. The Botany Space Force had enough cargo ships now that new pilots were always needed.
From space, Kris thought that Barevi Market really hadn't changed at all, except perhaps for its lack of eager customers filling the vast places. As they hovered above the docking facility seeking their as signed bay, Kris pointed out the overlapping squares of the market. She felt an almost-definitely almost-nostalgic relief at seeing it again. It was, after all, the site of the beginning of her amazing ad-ventures. They'd already started the rumor mill with Peter's inten-tionally provocative commercial, and they had had to keep the comm unit manned on a twenty-four-hour basis with their best Cattem speakers. Even Peran and Bazil had taken short stints, enormously pleased to be allowed such a responsibility, and certainly Zainal was delighted that they handled their first official duty so capably.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, Zainal sought out the market's manager and paid over almost all the Catteni coin he had to lease appropriate space in the market. Over several hundred years, the facility had grown from its original square, each addition overlapping older ones. The corners provided enclosed shops that afforded some privacy. Zainal wanted one for Eric's "office." The first week's rental reduced his small store of Catteni coins to a handful of loose change.
"What commodities, Emassi?" Chief Kapash asked.
"Various. Food items from Botany and oddments. We expect to trade for items available only on Barevi."
"Yes, Supreme Emassi Kamiton told me"-the commander paused for Zainal to recognize the significance of his having had a personal interview with such a personage as the Supreme Emassi-"that you were coming and you must be accorded the respect and privileges of a trader. However, I will have no personal disputes set-tled in my market space."
"Will you also police the market to be sure we are allowed to trade freely?"
"I'll have you know we allow no brawling or bullying within the confines of the marketplace," Kapash said, straightening at the im-plied slur on his management. Zainal had known the man from his previous tour of duty on Barevi. Kapash was running more to fat than muscle for his extra flesh strained his uniform and destroyed the fit of it.
"My! How Barevi has changed," Zainal remarked and noticed the smug grin on Kapash's blunt-featured face as he accepted the keys to the enclosure he had just leased and left the office. He didn't fail to see Kapash give a sign to one of the huge Catteni in the outer room and knew that all his movements would now be reported back to the chief. Nothing new in that. May the fellow at least have the intelli-gence to understand what he saw. Zainal hadn't run Barevi's market for a full Catteni year without learning a few tricks and the counters to them.
His next task was to apply at the hiring hall for a tutor for Peran and Bazil. The two boys were running a little too wild for his liking. He knew they flagrantly disobeyed Kris and that they had gotten a lit tle out of hand by the end of the long journey here. That must stop. The hiring hall had the usual number of unemployed, some with the unmistakable look of "command" about them, but he required more than authority to control and shape his sons. He filled out the form, specifying a younger man, preferably one with pilot training, and definitely with a good educational background in the sciences. Considering the current situation with no new exploratory expe-ditions, there was surely some young man who would meet his re-quirements.
On his return to the ship, he passed by storage sheds with doors ajar, and men working among cartons displaying Terran manufactur-ers' logos. Yes, Chuck had been right. Most of what they urgently needed was here. To acquire tires and batteries and the spark plugs re-quired to repair Terran ground vehicles might be less of a challenge than getting the comm sat components. He passed by a large locked unit that smelled aromatically of warm rubber, for the sun was hot enough to heat many of the inadequately vented warehouses.
He took one last look at his new premises, checking first on the electrical system and taking pictures with a small camera. Bayes had also supplied him with a unit that would test the circuits and power available. They did have some step-down transformers for Eric's equipment. The shop was equipped with a stout reinforced door, though only a broken chain and lock dangled from the latch. Well, there were many ways to lock a door. A faucet slightly askew on its pipe let out rusty water, which gradually cleared. When it did, Zainal filled a small bottle so they could analyze it in the ship's little medical station. Generally speaking, such resources were potable and the rust was only from long disuse. He was within his rights to insist on prop-erly filtered water, and the last thing they needed was to distribute anything contaminated to their customers.
He also rented the largest lift platform that he spied in the street in front of Kapash's office, available from its owner, an old, one-armed ex-soldier whom he thought he remembered from his Barevian year as market manager. The man certainly recognized him. Veterans were allowed to work on the docks as compensation for their loss of limbs. A name came to mind-Natchi-and seemed to be accepted by the garrulous veteran. The poor devils all looked alike, distinguishable only by the parts they were missing.
"They'll all be watching you, Emassi Zainal," Natchi remarked out of the side of his mouth. "We have heard rumors of your return. And how you single-handedly accomplished the end of Eosi domi nation. This has not made you popular in all places. Do not lower your guard for a moment," the veteran muttered as he handed over the lift control hand unit. "You kept Barevi relatively calm the year you were here. May you prosper."
Zainal nodded in acceptance of the warning. "If you hear more, come to my shop. We shall always have a hot drink for you, Natchi, and a seat in the shop whenever you need to rest your old bones."
"Old they are, Emassi. Return the lift when you have no further need of it, and my gratitude that you remembered my name." Zainal nodded and, guiding the lift in front of him, went back to the BASS-1's berth. He assumed his most aloof manner as he made his way, glad, after Natchi's warning, that he had already put Chuck on an alert status at their berth.