The only thing that had kept the place from vanishing from the map altogetherwas its gradual and reluctant transformation into the sort of place wherequestionable papers and shady cargoes were generally winked at. With the Patthshipping domination, the shady-cargo slice of the pie chart had been steadilygrowing among non-Patth carriers.
And as a result, business at the Dorscind's World port was booming.
There was of course no record of a freighter named the Second Banana havingfiled a flight plan for Dorscind's World. But as I'd expected, minortechnicalities of that sort didn't even raise an eyebrow here. The usualdockingfee, plus a few more of Cameron's hundred-commark bills, and we had ourlandingcradle. I paid off the port official who came to the ramp to collect, madearrangements for refueling, and ordered delivery of replacement foodstuffs andsome more of Chort's magic hull-repair goo.
And after that, it was time for me to venture out into the dubious charm ofthe port city. Leaving the rest of the Icarus's crew behind.
The rest of the crew wasn't happy about that. Not one bit. "This is insane,"
Shawn snarled as I faced down the pack of them at the forward wraparoundpressure door, a task made all that harder psychologically by the upward tiltof the Icarus's decks that had them all looming over me. "I've been to a dozenplaces like this—it's no more dangerous than downtown Tokyo as long as youmind your own business."
"It would be nice to get out into the open air," Everett seconded. "Medicallyspeaking, recycled air starts wearing on a person after a while. Besides, theexercise would do us good."
"The exercise could also get you killed," I told him bluntly, charitablypassingup the obvious comment about how his bulk hardly indicated that exercise wouldbe his top priority out there. "Or weren't any of you listening to what I saidabout what happened to me on Xathru?"
"We were all listening, McKell," Tera said. "As far as I'm concerned, that's areason for you to stay out of sight, not us."
"Believe me, I wish I could," I said with one hundred percent honesty. Thelast thing I wanted to do was face down more of the Lumpy Clan and theircoronal-discharge weapons. Though to be honest, without having a flightschedule to guide them, the chances they could have tracked me here were vanishinglysmall. "Unfortunately, I have an errand to take care of out there. One which Ihave to do personally."
Which wasn't quite as hundred-percent honest as the first part had been. Ixilcould make the long-overdue call to Uncle Arthur as well as I could. But Ixilhad made it abundantly clear that he really didn't want to field that one; more to the point, I wanted him and the ferrets here to watch over the Icarus. "Butnone of that matters," I went on. "What matters is that as pilot, I'm also thecaptain. And I say you're staying here."
"So that's where the pig stick goes, huh?" Shawn snarled, his face working ashe glared at me with blazing eyes. Once again, as it had when we'd first met, Shawn's veneer of civility had cracked badly, revealing the callously rudeyoungbrat underneath. "You little tin-plate dictator—you love this, don't you?
Well, forget it—just forget it. I'm not sitting here staring at the walls whileyou'reout having fun. Neither is anyone else."
"That's enough, Shawn," Nicabar said quietly. Quietly, but with the fullweightof all those years as an EarthGuard Marine in his voice.
Shawn either didn't notice or didn't care. "Well, runny muck to you, too," hebit out at Nicabar. His whole body was trembling now, his fists opening andclosing like relays in an unstable feedback loop, and out of the corner of myeye I saw Ixil ease a little closer beside him. "I'm not staying cooped up inhere—I'm not."
"Look, son, I understand how you feel," Everett said, laying a hand on Shawn'sshoulder. "But he is our captain—"
"I don't care," Shawn snapped, shrugging off the hand. "I'm going out. Now!"
And with that, he bunched his hands into fists and dived straight toward me.
He didn't get very far. Ixil was ready on his right and Nicabar on his left, and each of them grabbed an arm right in mid-leap. For a moment Shawn struggled intheir grip, mouthing obscenities and threats mixed liberally with snarls in analien language I didn't understand. But he might as well have tried to walkawaywith the Icarus resting on his foot. Ixil and Nicabar held on; and withoutwarning, Shawn suddenly collapsed in their grip, whimpering softly under hisbreath.
"Bring him back here," Everett said quietly, gesturing as he backed down thecorridor toward the sick bay. "I'll give him something."
Ixil caught Nicabar's eye; the tall man nodded understanding and shiftedaround behind Shawn, taking his other arm from Ixil and half guiding, half carryingthe moaning kid down the corridor behind Everett. They all disappeared inside, thedoor closed behind them, and Ixil looked back at me. "That was interesting," he said.
"Is he ill?" Chort asked, his alien face as usual impossible to read. "Perhapswe should take him to a full-service medical center."
"Let's see what Everett can do with him first," I said, throwing a glance atTera. Her face, too, was unreadable. "Look, I've got to go. I'll be back assoon as I can."
"Go ahead," Ixil said. "We'll handle things here."
I headed down the ramp—as on Xathru, the landing cradle here was concave, putting part of the Icarus's bulk beneath ground level and making a long climbunnecessary—and crossed to the edge of our landing square. A high-speedslidewayran past two landing squares over, with two short layers of lower-speedtransfer slideway beside it, and in a minute I was being carried briskly westwardtoward the edge of the spaceport where the map had said the StarrComm building waslocated.
The port was busy today, I noticed with some concern as I studied my fellowslideway travelers with the same casual and nonintrusive glances they wereusingback on me. The extra anonymity provided by a crowd was always useful, butcrowded slideways also often meant crowded StarrComm booths. Even before we'dlanded I had wanted to make this stop as brief as possible. Now, after Shawn'sperformance back there, I wanted it even more.
It took me nearly fifteen minutes to reach the StarrComm building, only tofind my fears had been realized. The entire place was in use, with estimatedwaitingtimes for a booth hovering around half an hour. I tried to talk my way higheron the waiting list, but on a place like Dorscind's World the operators were usedto much more serious threats and bullying than I was willing to try andwouldn't budge. Conceding defeat, I accepted the numbered card they handed me—no oneasked for or gave out names here—and retreated across the lobby to thewaiting-room taverno. Not surprisingly, it, too, was doing a brisk business, but I was lucky enough to arrive just as a pair of Mastanni were leaving a smalltable near the entrance and was able to grab it. I glanced at the menu, punchedup the cheapest drink they had, and sat back to glower at the large displayover the bar indicating which customers were currently next in line for the booths.
It wasn't an encouraging sight. At the leisurely rate the numbers werecrawlingupward, I decided darkly, the operator's estimation of thirty minutes wasentirely too optimistic. I hadn't wanted to make this call to Uncle Arthur, but being forced to sit here and wait for the chance to have myself verballyflensed was just adding insult to injury. I tried to come up with a clever way tocircumvent the system, but it was really only mental steam-venting. OnDorscind's World, the people I'd be cutting in line in front of would not bethe sort to greet such attempts with genial smiles. I had enough trouble in mylife already without going out and finding more.
A shadow passed over me; and to my annoyance a thin, wiry man with dark hairand a scraggly beard plopped himself down in the chair across from me. "Hey, oldbuddy," he greeted me expansively. "How's it going?"
"It's going just fine," I told him automatically, frowning. His tone andexpression implied we knew each other, and he did indeed look vaguelyfamiliar, but for the life of me I couldn't place him.