As soon as they were out of the library building, Jirik slapped his thigh. "Damn! Kid, what you just saw was a real exercise in stupidity. Never go to a meeting, even a preliminary one, unprepared. I wasn't ready because I wasn't expecting to need specific information. In fact, I figured that the hardest part would be convincing Fanlin that I was serious. It just goes to show you that even an old-timer like me can do stupid things that he'd raise hell with a newbie for doing!"
Tor was looking puzzled. "But, I thought that Mr. Fanlin was real interested, sir. He wanted to jump at the deal."
"That's the point, kid." Jirik replied. "I was offering this guy a librarian's dream. I should've known he'd want to jump at it, and made sure that I knew exactly what I was offering. I was stupid. I hope that these people he's consulting have more business sense, and refuse it!"
"But why, sir?"'Tor persisted, "What's wrong with the idea, if they can come up with a good down payment? I'm afraid that I don't see what's changed. If it was a good idea before, why isn't it a good idea now?"
Jirik sighed. "Look, kid," He replied patiently, "Our original idea was for us to finance the deal. We'd basically be doing it on spec. I figured that between what's left of our operating capital, the profits from our inbound cargo, and the line of credit we have with the bank on D'Jellah, we could muster up enough credits to buy the books, then bring them out here and sell them outright. If it went wrong, we might end up in debt, at worst, and end up running low-value cargoes until we could get back on our feet. But the way it's shaped up, we couldn't buy enough bookchips to make anything from it. If this coalition puts up the money, we're basically acting as our own shipping agents. We'd be buying a cargo with the customer's money, and shipping it. I don't like having maybe millions in other people's credits. Too many things can go wrong. Now, the kind of thief that Cony thought I was would simply grab the money and run to the far side of the Empire until the heat died down. But Bran and I have spent too many years working hard to establish our reputations to waste them for one big take. If we did something like that, we'd lose all of our regular customers and shipping agents in our home sector. And believe me, Swindling the governments of nine worlds would force the Alliance courts to notice, rim worlds or not!"
"If we get involved in a deal this size," Jirik continued, "And anything goes wrong, we could lose everything, including our freedom. It's one helluva gamble, and the stakes are just too high!"
Tor's face had cleared, then furrowed in concern. "I can see that we're talking about a lot of risk, sir, but if it worries you, why can't we simply turn down the deal if they offer it? I mean, we didn't sign any agreements or anything. In fact, you kinda said that you weren't interested any more, didn't you?"
Under his breath Jirik muttered, "I hope we can, kid, I hope to hell we can!" then replied in a louder tone, "Yeah, Tor. If there's any way to get out of it, I will. But sometimes circumstances force your hand. I guess we just have to see what happens."
They returned to the ship. Jirik went in search of Bran, to brief him on the ill-fated meeting. En route to the engineering deck, he passed an obviously miserable Valt, wrestling with a heavily laden grav lifter, and complaining bitterly to himself and anyone else within hearing.
Bran was on his beloved Engineering deck as usual, hovering menacingly over the local work crew. Jirik dragged him to the tiny Engineering Office, where he briefed him on the ill-fated meeting at the Library. "I know I should have been better prepared," he admitted, "But I kept thinking of the damned deal as a smoke screen, a cover. I never for an instant suspected that someone might take it seriously! Now I'm really worried. If this Coalition or whatever it is makes us a serious offer, we could have trouble backing out of it gracefully!"
Bran nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. We could get trapped into a very risky deal. Can we get away with simply refusing the deal?"
"I don't know. We can try. Damn that spook, anyway!" Jirik slammed his hand on the miniscule table, propelling a cascade of papers. "He started this mess by making it necessary for me to lie to my own crew. I didn't like it then, and I like it even less now!"
"Easy, Captain," Bran said soothingly, "After all, he didn't tell you to lie. We both agreed that we couldn't depend on Tor's and Valt's discretion." He shrugged dismissively. "I guess it just wasn't the best cover story we could have come up with; or maybe it was too good! Anyway, Captain, I don't see that we have any choice but to carry on with the repairs and loading, and hope that they decide not to deal."
"I guess you're right," Jirik replied, his face clearing, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Now," he continued, "How are things going? I passed Valt coming down here. He wasn't a happy man."
Bran smiled a thoroughly wicked smile. "Valt is not enjoying himself. He showed up hung over this morning, as you might suspect. I think he regrets it. He's been moaning and whining all day. I, on the other hand, have been enjoying myself!"
Jirik grinned. "I'll bet you have. Am I going to be getting any formal grievances? Or is he letting off enough steam by bitching?"
Bran's smile widened. "Oh, I think he'll settle for bitching and whining. I've been careful not to give him grounds for a formal grievance."
Considerably cheered, Jirik returned to his compartment for a short nap before he ventured out again in search of more information for the agent. Bone-weary from the constant drag of the gravity, he contented himself with finding the local spacer bar and socializing with the Captains of the three Rim Tramps in port. His efforts provided substantiation, but nothing new, about the Actionists. He did, however, obtain promises to provide him with up-to-date Rim Sector charts in case he should need them. He left the bar considerably cheered. He had enjoyed the shop talk of the rim traders, and he hadn't even had to go into his drunk act. A spacer among spacers, he was expected to display a certain curiosity about a planet he was visiting for the first time. He was whistling cheerfully as he returned to the Lass for the midnight meeting.
Valt was drunk again. Jirik decided that they had better get off this planet as quickly as possible, or Valt was going to turn into a worthless alcoholic. Bran looked as weary as he was himself, and even Tor was beginning to look wilted. Jirik decided to keep the meeting as short as possible. Bran and Tor had learned nothing new. Valt's only contribution was a drunken assertion that one of his drinking companions had tried to recruit him for the Actionists. Valt's reaction had been to laugh and tell the man he was crazy. Evidently, the drinking bout had degenerated to name-calling, but physical violence had been avoided. Valt was sullen and surly in his drunkenness. Jirik reported briefly on the meeting at the library and his contacts with the tramp captains, then suggested that they all turn in. No one objected, and the meeting was adjourned within ten minutes.
Jirik sent Tor on a near-day-long mission to one of the mines supplying part of their inbound shipment in order to be alone when the agent came to the office to receive his reports the following morning. He was poring over load distribution worksheets when the quiet knock announced Tomys' arrival.
Chapter 5
Jirik yelled, "Come in!", then bellowed, "You! I've been waiting for you, you son of a shlith! You suckered me into one of your damned spook capers after all!"
Jirik's face reddened with fury as Tomys' smile broadened into a grin. "Calm down, Captain, before you have a stroke. May I sit down?" without waiting for a response, he hooked a chair with his foot, pulled it over, and sat down, ignoring Jirik's speechless fury.