Due Diligence Page 7

  Jai Kob laughed, and Vin Dyr drifted closer to the light. Fer Gun felt the trader's attention shift in that direction.

  "The cargo's well-enough, so far as my inspection goes," Jai Kob said. "Given the terms of the contract you're under, we thought it best to meet you in private. Is that the contract-wife?"

  "No," said Trader Danac-Joenz.

  "Good," Jai Kob said. "That's good."

  He stepped closer, his hands slipping out of his belt. There was a packet in his off-hand, which he lifted slightly to show Fer Gun.

  "The damage call was only a prank, Gunny–just a joke between kin. But it's true enough that you've papers to sign."

  Fer Gun felt his stomach clench. Papers. Often enough, he'd had papers to sign, since the day he came halfling; his grandfather gone, and what care he had coming from his clever older cousins.

  The very same older cousins who had given him papers to sign at Solcintra Port, scheming to strip his wings away, and likely long-ago murdered in the Low Port, if Chi yos'Phelium's iron whim hadn't settled on him.

  "What papers?" he asked Jai Kob. "Agreeing to an extra fee for the release of the pod?"

  Jai Kob looked hurt, which meant nothing. Jai Kob could assume any expression or attitude the moment wanted.

  "Are we pod-pirates, Gunny?" he asked and swept on before Fer Gun could answer, which was just as well. "No, we've only this paper here that needs your signature. You remember the quarterlies. Well, it's past time for the next."

  He remembered the quarterlies, so he did. The very first one signed at his cousins' direction barely three days after his grandfather's death. He hadn't read that one. Jai Kob had assured him there was no need; Jai Kob had read it, after all, and had found everything in order.

  "What's that about the marriage contract?" he asked, then.

  "Didn't they tell you, Gunny? Korval was paying Telrune a handsome sum for your. . .abilities, but just the smallest taste up-front, and all the rest on completion, contingent on no kin contacting you during the marriage."

  "So you've just breached the terms," Fer Gun pointed out. "Telrune will like that you've snatched cantra out of his fingers."

  "The little cousin's gotten sharp," Vin Dyr said dryly, stepping fully into the light.

  Jai Kob shook his head.

  "Who's to know it, unless you tattle, and then Telrune will know right enough who to blame. But, here, Gunny, I can see you're in no mood to play. Just sign the paper, we'll be off, and you can take delivery of your cargo."

  Fer Gun took a deep breath, teetering on the edge of choice. Sign the paper and Jai Kob released the cargo in good order. Refuse to sign the paper, and the cargo would not survive the next hour, no matter how good his cousin's humor appeared.

  To allow Korval's cargo to be destroyed because he had grown squeamish about his cousins. Was that even a choice?

  It occurred to him then that there was a third choice.

  "Trader Danac-Joenz," he heard himself say calmly; "of your kindness."

  "Certainly, Captain."

  She stepped forward and held out her hand for the packet.

  Jai Kob took a step back, glaring.

  "What's this, Gunny?"

  "This is the ship's trader," Fer Gun said. "I brought her to deal with the paperwork for the damaged cargo."

  "This is between cousins," Jai Kob protested. "It's not for anyone to look at and blab around the docksides."

  "Sir." Trader Danac-Joenz sounded halfway between angry and amused. "I am, in fact, Comet's trader. I assure you–I know how to treat confidential business. If you would care to step up the hall to the office, I will call up my references for you."

  Jai Kob stared, frozen in place. Vin Dyr shifted, boots grating on the floor as he adjusted his balance, his hand moving toward the place where he kept his hideaway. Fer Gun stepped to the side, and waved the trader forward, putting her and Jai Kob into the same frame.

  It was still a risk, Vin Dyr being more than a fair shot, but he wouldn't take the snap-shot now, just to see what would happen, not with Jai Kob so near.

  At least, Fer Gun hoped so.

  "The trader will review the paperwork," he said; "to be certain that everything is in order. Surely, cousin, you don't want to risk Telrune's anger on a faulty instrument."

  "Faulty instrument," Vin Dyr repeated, not quite under his breath. "The child has airs."

  Fer Gun ignored him.

  "Will you be able to work here, Trader? Or will the warehouse office be better?"

  "This is perfectly adequate," she assured him. "This light is particularly good. Now, if the gentleman will relinquish the packet. . .?"

  For a moment, Fer Gun thought that Jai Kob would do no such thing. It was possible that Jai Kob thought so, too.

  Then, he took one step forward–and placed the packet into the trader's outstretched hand.

  "Thank you," she said with complete composure.

  And broke the seal.

  #

  "The third paragraph references the terms of a previous contract, dated some dozen Standards back," Trader Danac-Joenz murmured, "which would appear to be the foundation for the rest of this currently proposed document."

  She looked up from the papers and gave Fer Gun a bright, candid glance.

  "You have that contract among your records, of course, Captain. Will it be available to the ship's system?"

  Fer Gun felt his stomach clench, as in the back of his mind, he heard Lady yo'Lanna scolding him: Read the contract; understand the contract; keep a copy of the contract for future consultation.

  "My cousins have been in the habit of keeping my paperwork for me," he told the trader, and waited for the scorn to fill her eyes.

  Instead, her eyes narrowed, and if there was any emotion on her face, he would have said it was anger.

  "I see. Naturally, you would have been very young when the foundation document was made, and it would have been natural for elder kin to hold the files. They ought, of course, to have transferred the records to you when you came of age, but such things often slip the mind.

  "Happily, we can regularize the situation now."

  She turned to Jai Kob.

  "If you will kindly bring forth those records, sir, I may continue my work. Thus far, the contract you offer appears. . .promising. But we must, as I am certain you understand, have the foundation document. Indeed, it ought to have been appended to this paper–but again, it is so very easy for such details to slip the mind."

  Boot soles grated against a gritty floor.

  Fer Gun turned sharply toward Vin Dyr, his hand dropping to the gun on his belt.

  His cousin twitched–and raised both hands, showing them empty.

  "The foundation document," Jai Kob was saying in the quick, light voice he used when he was lying. "Certainly, Trader; how foolish of me to have forgotten! There is, in fact, a copy in the ship's files. Unfortunately, with Fer Gun under contract, we have no third to leave on-board while Vin Dyr and I attend business. It will require only an hour to go to the ship and bring back the complete files for you to peruse. If you would care to wait here? Or–of course! The trade bar. We will meet you there, in an hour, if that will suffice you?"

  Fer Gun kept his warning behind his teeth. Korval's cargo, he reminded himself; that was the important thing here: To recover the cargo intact.

  "Certainly," Trader Danac-Joenz said cordially. "An hour, in the Trade Bar. We will be much more comfortable there, and will have access to the library, should there be need."

  "Excellent," Jai Kob said. He extended a hand to the trader, for the contract. She merely looked at him.

  "I will keep this, of your kindness," she said, "and continue my review. I know that your time is valuable."

  "Just so," said Jai Kob, and bowed.

  "Trader," he said. "Gunny." He glanced aside.

  "Come along, cousin," he said to Vin Dyr, who needed no such urging. Walking briskly, they were through the door–and gone.

  "What ar
e the odds," Trader Danac-Joenz said, lightly, her eyes on the door, "that they will come back in an hour, with or without those documents?"

  "No odds, Trader. Next we hear, they'll be casting off without having filed with the station master."

  She nodded, reached to her belt, and pulled out a portcomm.

  "Ship's name?" she murmured, thumbing the call button.

  "Lady Graz."

  "Thank you." She tipped her head.

  "Pilot yos'Phelium, this is Karil Danac-Joenz. We have a situation," she said crisply. "Can you–or Korval–hold the ship Lady Graz at dock?"

  VII

  Chi sat in the co-pilot's chair. She had the surveillance camera feeding screen three, though she expected no trouble on their own dock. Frowning, she examined that thought.

  No, she decided, the trouble, whatever shape it took, would be with the cargo. Well that Fer Gun hadn't gone alone. Well–well, indeed–that Karil Danac-Joenz was far removed from being a fool. She was encouraged on that front, very much so.

  She glanced at the clock. An hour gone, and no word from either. That could be good news. Or bad news. Or no news at all.

  "You're as jumpy as a cat with one kitten," she growled at herself–and snapped forward when the comm pinged.

  "Comet," she snapped, and frowned slightly at Karil Danac-Joenz' voice.

  "Not even Korval holds ships at a whim," she said. "We need a reason that will compel the station master."

  "It will have to be piracy, Pilot. Pilot pen'Uldra's cousins met us at the warehouse, wishing him to sign a document. Very much wishing for him to sign a document, and desperate enough for it that they were holding our cargo ransom.

  "My reading of this document leads me to believe that they have been cheating Pilot pen'Uldra of the profits of his birth-right since before he came of age. The present scheme is to transfer the ship wholly to them, and to strip him of all his assets."

  Chi closed her eyes and counted to one hundred forty-four. How one did long to speak, personally and alone, with the cousins.

  "Do you have the document?" Chi asked, keeping her voice calm.

  "I have the new document," the trader said. "The case would be stronger, with the entire series in hand." She paused. "Pilot pen'Uldra's cousins have said that they are going back to their ship to retrieve those, and will meet us at the trade bar inside of an hour."

  Chi gave a sharp laugh.

  "Yes, exactly. You see why it must be piracy?"

  "I do, indeed. Where are you and Fer Gun now?"

  "At the warehouse."

  "Come home," Chi said. "Leave the damned cargo. Until we have a chance to order a comprehensive scan, it is compromised, and it is not coming anywhere near this ship."

  "Yes, pilot. Agreed."

  "Good. I'll call the station master, and file our complaint."

  * * *

  "Thank you, Pilot; we're on our way."

  The trader thumbed off the unit, and looked at Fer Gun.

  "Your co-pilot requests you return to the ship."

  "The cargo?"

  "We're to treat it as compromised and a danger to the ship."

  He almost smiled at that. Trust Chi yos'Phelium to protect the ship.

  "Right," he said, and jerked his head toward the door. "Let's go."

  Together they exited the inspection bay.

  He stopped at the office to let the clerk know that the cargo was to remain isolated until it had been thoroughly inspected by a third party. She pushed him to leave a deposit for the space, he said curtly that he would do so when the inspection was complete, and in the meantime, he expected the bay to placed under seal.

  Possibly, he was too rough. Her face paled somewhat and she lowered her eyes.

  "Of course, Pilot."

  They were well away from the warehouse when the trader's comm pinged.

  "Yes," she said, putting the unit to her ear. She listened, and nodded, Terran-wise.

  "Thank you. Yes, we'll go at once."

  The comm vanished, and the trader turned to him.

  "Lady Graz has been locked down, pending a formal filing of piracy."

  He looked at her.

  "That means. . .?"

  "It means," she said, "that you must go to the station master's office and sign some paperwork."

  He stiffened, and caught his breath when he felt her hand on his.

  "We'll both go, of course, and read the papers together."

  Fer Gun managed a smile.

  "Of course," he said. "My thanks, Trader."

  "If we're going to be working together, I think I ought to be Karil," she said, still keeping a hold on his hand, as she turned them back to the station master's office.

  "In that wise, I will be Fer Gun," he answered, and traded her, smile for smile.

  VIII

  Well, and it came to light, once all of the documents were found and accessed, that the first paper he had signed for Jai Kob, giving him free use of the ship Lady Graz, which had been left to Fer Gun by his grandfather–that paper had not been regular, at all, since Fer Gun had been too young to sign such a thing.

  The second paper gave Jai Kob access to the accounts Grandfather had left to Fer Gun, himself, and also immortalized Fer Gun's agreement to pay for any repairs and upgrades required to Lady Graz from his own funds.

  That, too, was irregular, having been presented to the still-grieving Fer Gun barely two days after the paper which had stolen away his ship.

  At the last, it was a matter for Qe'andra dea'Gauss to sort out, which was done. Jai Kob and Vin Dyr had been fined, blacklisted, stripped of all licenses, and placed on an ore boat as working crew, their wages limited to berth and meals. Eventually, they would arrive home, and Telrune would deal with them. . .not kindly, as Fer Gun saw it. They had lost the ship, the money, Telrune's portion of the marriage settlement, and exposed themselves to discovery and punishment. He could not predict what further penalty the delm might place upon his cousins, but he doubted it would be pleasant.

  In the meanwhile, there was work to be done–he had two ships now, though Lady was in need of upgrading, as well as new licenses and registrations. A deal was closed with Korval's Chonselta Yard for the refurbs, which would take up the year of Comet's first real run; and another with Qe'andra dea'Gauss for the applications and the purges and the clear new record.

  He'd taken crew on for Comet; and Karil had emerged from several hours closeted with Chi's sister, the master trader, with an amended route, a goods list, and a thick notebook full of contacts.

  There remained one more duty to perform, as per the contract, and he was there at the early hour of the morning Chi's son had chosen for his entrance into the world. He stood witness as the child was born, and examined, and pronounced fit. And he remained there when the room was cleared of Healer and medic and the Council's eyes. At her invitation, he sat on the edge of the bed, covering her hand with his, and smiled at the boy with his sharp black eyes, and his black hair, already rumpled and unruly.

  "When do you lift?" she asked him.

  "Tomorrow morning," he answered. "We can file an amendment, if you have need of me."

  She smiled at that.

  "I see no reason for such desperate measures as that," she murmured, still half-drowsy with whatever the Healer had done.

  "Then, tomorrow morning, we're away; and returning to Liad in a year, to outfit the Lady and see her crewed."

  "Come and see me, Pilot, when you're back again," she said, and he squeezed her hand lightly.

  "I must, after all; you'll want an accounting of the ship's business."

  "Which you may and shall file with dea'Gauss," she said with a faint smile. "Come to me anyway."

  "I will," he promised.

  She closed her eyes, then. The boy–Daav yos'Phelium–stared at him for another minute from knowing dark eyes, before he, too, slipped away into sleep.

  EPILOG

  Daav and Er Thom were having a game of tag back and forth across the
Tree Court. At least Chi supposed it to be tag, though she conceded the possibility that it was some other game of their own devising, the rules of which she was not meant to know.

  In any case, it involved a great deal of running around, and shouting, and dodging behind bushes in order to lay in wait, and leap out at one's brother, whereupon there was laughter on both sides, and a bound once more into action.

  There had also been what she allowed to be only the most necessary amount of rolling about in the grass, and at least one unfortunate encounter with the gloan roses, which had taken, so she believed, no permanent damage. The scratches, she had declared minor, and the game was therefore rejoined.

  She. . .was supposed to be reading the agenda and briefing documents for the next meeting of the Council of Clans. Indeed, the material lay on the bench beside her, though she had not even glanced at them, finding the play of her sons–of her son and Petrella's–to be far more compelling.

  They made a striking pair, grass-stained and perspiring as they were. The eldest, Er Thom, Petrella's lad, was already a beauty, with gilt hair and violet eyes surrounded by dark gold lashes. He looked, in fact, quite a lot like Petrella, and so very much like his foster-mother, Chi.

  By contrast, Daav was lean and vulpine, a changeling, with his dark hair, dark eyes, and marked brows. It was well that she had made her pregnancy and his birth a matter of very public record, indeed. Looking at him, even if he could be persuaded for five minutes to stand still, never mind remaining clean, unrumpled, and with his hair combed–even then, he could scarce be taken for one of Korval, never mind the delm-to-be.

  Well, and it was too soon, yet, to know if Daav would in fact be delm. If not, the Ring would fall to Er Thom. And however it went, Korval would have at his side his brother, who had been given exactly the same education, shared the same history, and stood always as a valuable and beloved ally.

  "Catch me!" Daav cried, and bolted for the Tree, rounding the enormous trunk with nary a stumble, despite the plentiful surface roots waiting to catch the feet of the unwary.