Part 2 (2/2)

Crossing to the other side of the room, Car'das folded down the table and one of the bench seats and sat down, wedging himself more or less comfortably between the table and wall. Putting his elbow on the table and propping his head up on his hand, he closed his eyes and tried to relax.

He didn't realize he'd dozed off until a sudden buzz startled him awake.

He jumped up as the door opened to reveal a single black-clad Chiss.

”Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo's respects,” the alien said, the Sy Bisti words coming out thickly accented. ”He requests your presence in Forward Visual One.”

”Wonderful,” Qennto said, swinging his legs onto the floor and standing up. His tone and expression were the false cheerfulness Car'das had heard him use time and again in bargaining sessions.

”Not you,” the Chiss said. He gestured to Car'das. ”This one only.”

Qennto came to an abrupt halt. ”What?”

”A refreshment is being prepared,” the Chiss said. ”Until it is ready, this one only will come.”

”Now, wait a second,” Qennto growled. ”We stick together or-”

”It's okay,” Car'das interrupted hastily. The Chiss standing in the doorway hadn't moved, but Car'das had caught a subtle s.h.i.+ft of light and shadow that indicated there were others wandering around out there. ”I'll be fine.”

”Car'das-”

”It's okay,” Car'das repeated, stepping to the doorway. The Chiss moved back, and he walked out into the corridor.

There were indeed more Chiss waiting by the door, two of them on either side. ”Follow,” the messenger said as the door closed.

The group headed down the curved corridor, pa.s.sing three cross-corridors and several other doorways along the way. Two of the doors were open, and Car'das couldn't resist a furtive glance inside each as he pa.s.sed. All he could see, though, was unrecognizable equipment and more black-clad Chiss.

He had expected Forward Visual to be a crowded, high-tech room. To his surprise, the door opened into something that looked like a compact version of a starliner's observation gallery. A long, curved couch sat in front of a convex floor-to-ceiling viewport currently showing a spectacular view of the glowing hypers.p.a.ce sky as it flowed past the s.h.i.+p. The room's own lights were dimmed, making the display that much more impressive.

”Welcome, Jorj Car'das.”

Car'das looked around. Mitth'raw'nuruodo was seated alone at the far end of the couch, silhouetted against the hypers.p.a.ce sky. ”Commander,” he greeted the other, glancing a question at his guide. The other nodded, stepping back and closing the door on himself and the rest of the escort.

Feeling more than a little uneasy, Car'das stepped around the near end of the couch and made his way across the curve.

”Beautiful, isn't it?” Mitth'raw'nuruodo commented as Car'das arrived at his side. ”Please; be seated.”

”Thank you,” Car'das said, easing himself onto the couch a cautious meter away from the other. ”May I ask why you sent for me?”

”To share this view, of course,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said drily. ”And to answer a few questions.”

Car'das felt his stomach tighten. So it was to be an interrogation. Down deep he'd known it would be, but had hoped against hope that Maris's navely idealistic a.s.sessment of their captor might actually be right. ”A very nice view it is, too,” he commented, not knowing what else to say.

”I'm a little surprised to find such a room aboard a wars.h.i.+p.”

”Oh, it's quite functional,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo a.s.sured him. ”Its full name is Forward Visual Triangulation Site Number One. We place spotters here during combat to track enemy vessels and other possible threats, and to coordinate some of our line-of sight weaponry.”

”Don't you have sensors to handle that?”

”Of course,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. ”And usually they're quite adequate.

But I'm sure you know there are ways of misleading or blinding electronic eyes. Sometimes the eyes of a Chiss are more reliable.”

”I suppose,” Car'das said, gazing at his host's own glowing eves. In the dim light, they were even more intimidating. ”But isn't it hard to get the information to the gunners fast enough?”

”There are ways,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. ”What exactly is your business, Jorj Car'das?”

”Captain Qennto's already told you that,” Car'das said, feeling sweat breaking out on his forehead. ”We're merchants and traders.”

Mitth'raw'nuruodo shook his head. ”Unfortunately for your captain's a.s.sertions, I'm familiar with the economics of star travel. Your vessel is far too small for any standard cargo to cover even normal operating expenses, let alone emergency repair work. I therefore conclude that you have a sideline occupation.

You haven't the weaponry to be pirates or privateers, so you must be smugglers.”

Car'das hesitated. What exactly was he supposed to say? ”I don't suppose it would do any good to point out that our economics and yours might not scale the same?” he stalled.

”Is that what you claim?”

Car'das hesitated, but Mitth'raw'nuruodo had that knowing look again.

”No,” he conceded. ”We are mostly just traders, as Captain Qennto said.

But we sometimes do a little smuggling on the side.”

”I see,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. ”I appreciate your honesty, Jorj Car'das.”

”You can just call me Car'das,” Car'das said. ”In our culture, the first name is reserved for use by friends.”

”You don't consider me a friend?”

”Do you consider me one?” Car'das countered.

He regretted the words the instant they were out of his mouth. Sarcasm was hardly the option of choice in a confrontation like this.

But Mitth'raw'nuruodo merely lifted an eyebrow. ”No, not yet,” he agreed calmly. ”Perhaps someday. You intrigue me, Car'das. Here you sit, captured by unfamiliar beings a long way from home. Yet instead of wrapping yourself within a blanket of fear or anger, you instead stretch outside yourself with curiosity.”

Car'das frowned. ”Curiosity?”

”You studied my warriors as you were brought aboard,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. ”I could see it in your eyes and face as you observed and thought and evaluated. You did the same as you were taken to your quarters, and again as you were brought here just now.”

”I was just looking around,” Car'das a.s.sured him, his heart beating a little faster. Did spies rank above or below smugglers on Mitth'raw'nuruodo's list of undesirables? ”I didn't mean anything by it.”

”Calm yourself,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said, some amus.e.m.e.nt creeping into his voice. ”I'm not accusing you of spying. I, too, have the gift of curiosity, and therefore prize it in others. Tell me, who is to receive the hidden gemstones?”

Car'das jerked. ”You found-? I mean . . . in that case, why did you ask me about it?”

”As I said, I appreciate honesty,” Mitth'raw'nuruodo said. ”Who is the intended recipient?”

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