Plague Ship Andre Norton (book recommendations website .TXT) đ
- Author: Andre Norton
Book online «Plague Ship Andre Norton (book recommendations website .TXT) đ». Author Andre Norton
âCedarâ âTerran cedar,â he murmured.
Weeks nodded eagerly, his eyes alight. âI am waiting now for sandalwoodâ âit is also good for carvingâ ââ
Jellico stared at the array in puzzled wonder. âYou have made these?â
Being an amateur xenobiologist of no small standing himself, the shapes of the carvings more than the material from which they fashioned held his attention.
All those on board the Queen had their own hobbies. The monotony of voyaging through hyperspace had long ago impressed upon men the need for occupying both hands and mind during the sterile days while they were forced into close companionship with few duties to keep them alert. Jellicoâs cabin was papered with tri-dee pictures of the rare animals and alien creatures he had studied in their native haunts or of which he kept careful and painstaking records. Tau had his magic, Mura not only his plants but the delicate miniature landscapes he fashioned, to be imprisoned forever in the hearts of protecting plasta balls. But Weeks had never shown his work before and now he had an artistâs supreme pleasure of completely confounding his shipmates.
The Cargo-master returned to the business on hand first. âYouâre willing to transfer these to âcargoâ?â he asked briskly. âHow many do you have?â
Weeks, now lifting a third and then a fourth tray from the box, replied without looking up.
âTwo hundred. Yes, Iâll transfer, sir.â
The Captain was turning about in his fingers the beautifully shaped figure of an Astran duocorn. âPity to trade these here,â he mused aloud. âWill Paft or Halfer appreciate more than just their scent?â
Weeks smiled shyly. âIâve filled this case, sir. I was going to offer them to Mr. Van Rycke on a venture. I can always make another set. And right nowâ âwell, maybe theyâll be worth more to the Queen, seeing as how theyâre made out of aromatic woods, then theyâd be elsewhere. Leastwise the Eysies arenât going to have anything like them to show!â he ended in a burst of honest pride.
âIndeed they arenât!â Van Rycke gave honor where it was due.
So they made plans and then separated to sleep out the rest of the night. Dane knew that his lapse was not forgotten nor forgiven, but now he was honestly too tired to care and slept as well as if his conscience were clear.
But morning brought only a trickle of lower class clansmen for trading and none of them had much but news to offer. The storm priests, as neutral arbitrators, had divided up the Koros grounds. And the clansmen, under the personal supervision of their chieftains, were busy hunting the stones. The Terrans gathered from scraps of information that gem-seeking on such a large scale had never been attempted before.
Before night there came other news, and much more chilling. Paft, one of the two major chieftains of this section of Sargolâ âwhile supervising the efforts of his liege men on a newly discovered and richly strewn length of shoal waterâ âhad been attacked and killed by gorp. The unusual activity of the Salariki in the shallows had in turn drawn to the spot battalions of the intelligent, malignant reptiles who had struck in strength, slaying and escaping before the Salariki could form an adequate defense, having killed the land dwellersâ sentries silently and effectively before advancing on the laboring main bodies of gem hunters.
A loss of a certain number of miners or fishers had been preseen as the price one paid for Koros in quantity. But the death of a chieftain was another thing altogether, having repercussions which carried far beyond the fact of his death. When the news reached the Salariki about the Queen they melted away into the grass forest and for the first time the Terrans felt free of spying eyes.
âWhat happens now?â Ali inquired. âDo they declare all deals off?â
âThat might just be the unfortunate answer,â agreed Van Rycke.
âCould be,â Rip commented to Dane, âthat theyâd think we were in some way responsibleâ ââ
But Daneâs conscience, sensitive over the whole matter of Salariki trade, had already reached that conclusion.
The Terran party, unsure of what were the best tactics, wisely decided to do nothing at all for the time being. But, when the Salariki seemed to have completely vanished on the morning of the second day, the men were restless. Had Paftâs death resulted in some interclan quarrel over the heirship and the other clans withdrawn to let the various contendents for that honor fight it out? Orâ âwhat was more probable and dangerousâ âhad the aliens come to the point of view that the Queen was in the main responsible for the catastrophe and were engaged in preparing too warm a welcome for any Traders who dared to visit them?
With the latter idea in mind they did not stray far from the ship. And the limit to their traveling was the edge of the forest from which they could be covered and so they did not learn much.
It was well into the morning before they were dramatically appraised that, far from being considered in any way an enemy, they were about to be accepted in a tie as close as clan to clan during one of the temporary but binding truces.
The messenger came in state, a young Salarik warrior, his splendid cloak rent and hanging in tattered pieces from his shoulders as a sign of his official grief. He carried in one hand a burned-out torch, and in the other an unsheathed claw knife, its blade reflecting the sunlight with a wicked glitter. Behind him trotted three couples of retainers, their cloaks also ragged fringes, their knives drawn.
Standing up on the ramp to receive what could only be a formal deputation were Captain, Astrogator,
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