Tang Ya smiled. "If she had been, put credits down that you'd remember her."
Alt stirred. "Beautiful?"
Thorson frowned but immediately felt ashamed of his reaction. The Engineer-apprentice himself was strikingly handsome, to the extent that he almost seemed a caricature, the video stereotype of the daring star-roving hero.
Why shouldn't comeliness in others interest him? As for the rest, Kamil was not to blame that his appearance and the poise that accompanied it occasionally annoyed Dane, and no one could fault his competence or his courage when the need to display either arose.
The Com-Tech shrugged. "Beauty is common in the universe. She has that, but there's something unique about her, strange even. — No, she wasn't at the auction. Rael rarely accompanies her brother when he's conducting sur-planetary business. That's why none of you children has seen her yet."
"She does attend gem markets now and then," Jellico
informed them. His usually cold eyes laughed as they flickered to Van Rycke. The shot was deserved payment for the surprise he had been given.
The Cargo-Master growled and then sighed. "I had the misfortune of trying to do some business on a day when the pair of them were out buying," he informed the others. "I might as well have stayed home. Between Cofort's store of credits and her eye, nothing—and I mean absolutely nothing—of real value remained that was anywhere near being in a Free Trader's price range."
"Why so many jewels?" Rip inquired curiously.
Van Rycke glanced up at his apprentice. "Answer him."
"Teague Cofort trades with powerful people on some highly developed planets and with fairly sophisticated, complex societies even on those less technically advanced.
He has to carry quality goods, not trinkets, or no one would bother coming to him."
"Precisely."
Thorson breathed an inner sigh of relief. Questions and testing were every apprentice's lot, part of the process that would eventually transform the dead material learned at Training Pool into the ingrained knowledge and experience of a Master. Still, he hated the feeling of being transported back to the classroom and hated more the chance that he might not respond correctly, embarrassing himself and letting his chief down. He realized with a touch of pride that it had been a compliment to him that the question had been put to him publicly. Van Rycke had expected an accurate reply.
"When did the Roving Star planet?" Wilcox inquired.
"She hasn't, nor have any of the other Cofort ships," Van Rycke told him. "Our encounter was brief, and I didn't get a chance to question our prospective customer about that mystery. Perhaps she'll be good enough to enlighten us when she comes aboard to discuss the Wrack."
"Which will be when?" the Captain asked.
"In a couple of hours. I wanted to give us some thinking time."
He sighed then, to himself. They had best use it well.
This was purely a buyer's market. They had to unload that freighter, and Rael Cofort would know that every bit as well as they did themselves.
Miceal was too accustomed to his brown Trade uniform to be much bothered by it even with all fastenings in place and the high, stiff dress collar squeezing his neck, especially not with so important a meeting as this to claim his attention.
He studied the woman who had seated herself opposite him and Van Rycke as closely as he could without making his scrutiny too obvious. Tang had been right in calling Rael Cofort attractive, and equally correct in saying there was something unique in her appearance. It was not easy to place her in one of the major Terran subraces or assign a planet of origin for her line. She had been space-born herself.
She was of about average height, slender, with the lithe, tightly controlled body of a veteran spacer. There was no accompanying tan, however, although her pallor was very different from Jasper Weeks's. That skin might never darken, but it was alive with a soft warmth of its own.
Her features were delicately formed, fragile looking, making the thickly lashed eyes appear impossibly large.
They were a subtle violet color that seemed to alter with every change of thought or mood.
The hair was tawny, golden like the coat of a Terran lion.
She kept it long, braided and fastened in a coronet to her head in the fashion adopted by most female space hounds.
Her hands, he saw as they shuffled through the contents of the slender safe-lock portfolio she carried, were long-fingered and beautifully formed. They were also very small. One of them would not have spanned Van Rycke's palm, or his own, for that matter.
She chose a document and held it out to them. "My authorization to act as agent for Teague Cofort of the Roving Star."
The Cargo-Master accepted the paper and read it, as was his right in a matter of Trade. "Dated this morning?"
She nodded. 'He fasmitted it when I informed him of the possible sale."
"We hadn't broadcast any interest in parting with the Space Wrack," he observed.
The young woman smiled and shrugged delicately.
"When I planeted, I prowled around, asked a few questions, and came up with some deductions. Teague told me to go for it if the deal was reasonable."
Van Rycke leaned back in his chair. "Ms. Cofort, I confess that I'm finding it a bit difficult to believe you were sent all the way to Trewsworld on the chance of finding a small freighter coming up for sale. Trade here isn't all that spectacular, and similar chances to latch onto a ship aren't all that uncommon even put here on the rim, much less in the inner systems you often frequent, not when there's a good supply of credits on hand to pay for her."
"I was not sent here, of course. I came on the Mermaid."
"The Mermaid lifted yesterday morning."
Her eyes flashed with the anger she otherwise chained.
"I didn't like the way Riff Slate ran his ship."
Van Rycke's brows raised. "He just let you go, or hadn't you formally signed on?"
"I'd signed. — He didn't dare try to hold me. He doesn't keep many hands for long." Her lips tightened in a hard, cold line. "Most Captains economize when business is lean, but not on the life-support and emergency systems.
An apprentice died during the voyage in an inconceivable outcome of an accident that should never have occurred and would not have occurred on any other vessel. To my mind, that death was nothing short of murder."
"You can't prove that?" Jellico asked sharply.
"No, and I wasn't vacuum-brained enough to spread my opinion around, either. I just muttered things about jinxed voyages, and Slate let me out of my contract before I scared the rest of his crew away or into making some move that might start a formal inquiry into the number of hands the Mermaid's shipped over the last few years. As it is, he has a lot of extremely unhappy people aboard."
"What did you think you'd do here once you were let loose?" Van Rycke inquired.
"Stay alive. That's a singulariy appealing idea even if one has to work as a planet hugger for a time to keep eating. I knew something would eventually come along."
Rael squared her shoulders. "If you are satisfied, perhaps we could discuss the Space Wrack instead of delving into my uninspiring history."
The Cargo-Master made a formal bow with his head.
"What are Cofort's terms?"
It would come down to that. Teague Cofort was merely willing to pick the ship up if he could conveniently do so. They would have to work with his terms or be prepared to reject them outright.
"We'll give what you initially paid for her."
"Plus ten percent for the work we put into her."
The woman shook her head. "Our price is fair. You've knocked at least that much out of her, and right now she's chaining you hands and feet. You won't do better, and if you wait, she'll wind up costing you besides in port expenses and maintenance."