Part 7 (2/2)
Up it swirled, glistening in the glory of Hallo's light, held a breath's s.p.a.ce on high, and swooped down again to envelop the woman as she slowly turned with it.
Again, the Thornen veil swept out. It seemed no independent thing but rather part of she who controlled it, even as together they appeared to be an exquisite extension of the light and air in which they flowed.
Miceal Jellico tore his eyes away from the apparition to study those around them. Van Rycke, too, had recalled himself to the world of the market, but the others were fully ensorcelled. Rael's performance was so unexpected in a place like this and so perfectly executed, the material so marvelous in itself, that nearly every eye in the vicinity was riveted on her as if by the command of some irresistible compulsion.
Three times and again a fourth, the veil rose to fill the air, then with a sigh and a lowering of the head as precise and perfect as the vision preceding them, Rael closed it in upon itself and returned it to its owner.
In so doing, she released her captives. Tatarcoff recovered nearly as quickly as the Queen's senior officers and claimed it from her with a proprietary pride. His eyes were on the several individuals making purposefully for his stand.
”I knew you'd approve, Rael,” he remarked for his potential customers' benefit.
”It's wonderful. I envy the one with the spirit and credits to buy it,” she responded, her voice seemingly low but in actuality pitched to reach those who were approaching.
”Fly well, Deke. I hope we'll run into each other again before we lift.”
The Solar Queen party went some distance before Jellico gave a sharp glance at his temporary hand.
She was laughing softly but stopped and looked up at him when she felt his gaze. ”I love doing that,” she explained, ”and I so rarely get the chance. Teague doesn't approve.”
”Of his dancing?”
She was not surprised the Trader Captain had recognized what she had done. ”Of using it or similar techniques to enhance one's goods. He doesn't think it's quite the most respectable way of doing business.”
”It was effective,” he said, ”and you made no false claims. Thornen silk is beautiful. You merely . . .” He paused a moment. ”You merely spun it into a dream.”
”It's up to Tatarcoff to sell that dream,” the Cargo-Master interjected, ”though he'd have to have a crater instead of a brain not to do it now. Everyone back there wants it.”
”Deke's good,” she a.s.sured them. ”He'll move the silk and probably most or all the rest with it.”
”You moved it for him,” Dane said, forcing himself to speak naturally. He was embarra.s.sed by the spell Cofort's performance had cast on him. A Trader, particularly part of the Cargo department, had to be able to keep his wits on his surroundings and business.
If the others said anything, now or later, so be it, he thought. He deserved no more after that lapse. In the meantime, walking around as dumb as a lump of inert matter would do no one, especially himself, any good. He was curious about the magic Rael Cofort had wrought-and magic it had been, Trader magic rather than the kind that so intrigued Tau. Van Rycke was one of the best, and he had not seen even him use anything the like of this . . .
”No,” the Medic responded slowly. ”Thomen silk itself requires no selling. Better simply doesn't exist. That bolt is such a patent extravagance here, though, quintessential luxury beyond anything required for any conceivable occasion on a planet like Canuche of Halio, no matter how formal. It was bound to be admired, but to lift the idea of actually purchasing it out of the realm of insanity, I had to waken the hunger for beauty, the ideal of beauty, that lies buried in every normal human soul.”
”You succeeded,” Jellico said, an obvious understatement in the face of the number of determined people who had pushed in around Tatarcoffs stand even as his party had left it.
She gave him a sharp look. ”There are no objections, I hope?”
”None. We're not competing, not on this run anyway, and if the locals buy from one Free Trader, they'll be more inclined to patronize the rest of us as well.” His eyes rested pensively on her. ”You were selling more than Deke Tatarcoffs silk back there.”
”That's part of the purpose of this excursion, isn't it?” she countered evenly. ”I'm supposed to be displaying my skill in handling the various aspects of Trade, am I not?”
”You are. You've shown some strange talents, Rael Cofort. I'm curious to test the extent of them.”
”Test away. Captain Jellico,” she responded lightly. ”I think you won't find me wanting, nor, perhaps, the scope of my abilities so readily fathomed as you seem to imagine, either.”
14.
The off-worlders paused to examine several more displays but were not tempted to make a purchase until they were nearly ready to quit that part of the market. A metallic glitter on the foremost table of one of the large booths caught Van Rycke's eye. Even from a distance of several feet, he could see that it was a synthetic cloth of silver netting, exquisitely complex and extraordinarily fine.
He touched Dane's arm. ”Give that a look over. If it seems worth it, make an offer.”
The Cargo-apprentice nodded and stepped briskly toward the booth, taking care to conceal from both the Canuchean merchant and his own companions the considerable trepidation with which he viewed the a.s.signment. True, his chief had been giving him an ever-increasing amount of responsibility, but the transactions he had thus far initiated had been small and straightforward, all of them concerned with minor outfitting of the stars.h.i.+p. This was much larger in scope and was for Trade itself. It would also involve real bargaining, or it would if he did not blow it the first time he opened his mouth.
The Canuchean displayed the examination length of the silver netting with a grand flourish, all the while extolling its beauty and virtues as enthusiastically as if it were the genuine article straight out of Siren's far-famed mills.
Once his litany of praise ended, however, he eyed Thorson's brown uniform as if in askance. ”We deal chiefly in credits on Canuche,” he said doubtfully.
Dane declared that the Solar Queen intended to pay by that means. He saw the flash of greed glint in the other's eyes and set himself for battle. Specie or specie credit was always the preferred method of payment on any Federation planet, and the merchant was going to attempt to secure as much as he could.
It was the apprentice's job, on the other hand, to minimize what the Queen had to lay out. Straight credits, being more desirable than an exchange of goods or services, were also more valuable. They generally bought more as a result, and Thorson was determined that those entrusted to him should do so. He held to his role as a prospective purchaser interested but by no means overwhelmed by the proffered goods and most a.s.suredly in no desperate need of them. In the end, after much discussion, he succeeded in shaving off an 8 percent discount for the Queen and then heaped another 2 percent on top of it as a bulk order bonus for taking all twelve bolts available.
”Not bad at all,” Van Rycke gloated when they were out of sight and earshot of the booth. ”The youngster's beginning to show a little promise. I don't know if I'd have had the nuggets to demand a bulk discount for a dozen bolts of cloth.”
”A nice move,” the Captain agreed, ”but do we need twelve bolts?”
”It'll sell,” Jan a.s.sured him. ”Some primitive society will go for it, and it's absolutely stellar quality. If that cloth was real silver, we could take it anywhere in the inner systems.”
”We still can,” Dane interjected. ”Those planets tend to enjoy greater wealth and luxury than the outer and rim worlds, but there are plenty of very ordinary people working away on all of them. They can't afford clothes spun out of precious metals, but those conscious of fas.h.i.+on will grab a good synthetic. If we aren't planning a trip in there ourselves in the near future, we'll be encountering s.h.i.+ps like the Black Hole that are. Any one of them'd be glad to pick up some of this in exchange for goods we'll find more immediately useful.”
”I agree,” Rael said, ”but I don't think you'll have to trade any of it off. You'll sell, and you won't have to leave the outer systems to do it. A dozen bolts wouldn't be anything to a large manufacturer. It could go even faster in individual sales in a fairly big town, much less in a city.
Aphrodite comes to mind at once. So does Sultana, which might actually be your best bet if you can swing in that far.
The teachers there'd jump at this for use in training, although, of course, they won't bring anything fake into the temples.”
”Hera's even closer,” Dane suggested. ”According to Mara's notes, the priestesses there love glitter. They sew and paste mirrors and all sorts of beads and pieces of metal and strips of lace on their robes. They should go for this like a drowning man for oxygen.”
”True enough, and as you so sagely point out, Hera's close by.”
Thorson's head lifted in gratification at his chiefs ready acceptance of the viability of his suggestion. He did not see the look of pride that accompanied it. That was an extremely obscure bit of information, a one-line margin note jotted down as a reminder on an old reorder list. Van Rycke had not recalled it himself, although he doubtless would have done so before long, and he was pleased that his fledgling, who had obviously been studying the files, had beaten him to it.
With the business of the cloth's potential saleability settled, the Cargo-Master felt at liberty to address another matter whetting his curiosity. His blue eyes flickered in Cofort's direction. ”Speaking of Sultana, Doctor, I'm wondering how you've managed to pick up her most cherished art form.”
She smiled. ”I first saw her Ibis dancers when I was eight years old. It was love at first sight. I'd always detested sports, and even then I thought formal exercise a galactic-cla.s.s bore, necessary to maintain health and muscle tone, perhaps, but a waste of time, plentiful as that is in s.p.a.ce. This beautiful, complex dance was different. I wanted it, and I was determined to learn how to perform it.
”I bought every tape and book my credits would allow and pestered my father for more, then I secretly worked with them, deciphering and copying the moves as best I could. I'd made such progress by the time he finally caught me at it that he sought to arrange for lessons for me the next time we planeted on Sultana, which was a regular port on our trade route. I was good enough that his request was granted.”
”He was d.a.m.ned lucky you didn't disappear,” Miceal told her bluntly. ”Those people wors.h.i.+p beauty. You must have had that even then, and you were a dancer, besides.”
She shook her head. ”To them, I was the ultimate tragedy. I had the talent to dance, but it was stillborn. I had come to it far too late. Sultanites literally begin preliminary training when they're six months old. Their parents start giving them coordination exercises at that age. They encouraged me to continue all the same because they, their teachers, recognized that my love for their art is genuine.
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