An Ancient Peace by Tanya Huff Page B

disproportionate.
    After a moment, he realized that, shrugged, and continued. “Your lot, they’ve seen. But only because there were two Human crew on the cheap holiday boat they just left. The Trun checking us out up in the station? We were firsts across the board for them and they’re out of the gravity well, so I think it’s fair to assume they’re going to be a bit more exposed than their buddies on the ground.”
    That explained the attention. They were new. Different. “So, when our antique hunters . . .” Grave robber was not a designation Torin wanted overheard. “. . . came in for supplies, they didn’t use this tether.”
    â€œOr they didn’t use it when those two were on,” Alamber pointed out. “There’s three crews on a ten-day up/twenty-day down rotation, but I didn’t get a chance to delve for details because they were all . . .” He waved a hand gracefully between them. “. . . hurry, hurry, no time, schedule to keep. But this is the cheapest of the three ways down, not to mention back up again, so unless our antique hunters have found a backer with deep pockets, this had to have been their ride.”
    Unfortunately, they had no idea of how well-funded the grave robbers were, and if Big Bill’s operation on Vrijheid had taught her anything, it was that crime didn’t have to be petty. Big Bill had taken a percentage off every pirate in two sectors as well as off the merchants who supplied them with food, fuel, and entertainment. But if these particular criminals were well-funded, would they have needed to sell an artifact to make a little extra on the side? Not necessarily
need
, she reminded herself. Greed was a much more likely motivator.
    How much would a dealer pay for an illegal biscuit maker?
    â€œYou’re thinking about the biscuit maker, aren’t you, Boss? You’ve got a little line . . .” Alamber touched her forehead with a cool fingertip. “. . . here. Happens every time.”
    Torin bit back the urge to deny it and glared past his hand until he removed it.
    â€œI’m just saying.”
    â€œDon’t.”
    â€œOkay, then. So, data point on the Trun; they weren’t at all interested in figuring out if the parts fit. I was crushed. Prehensile tails,” he expanded when Torin’s brow rose.
    â€œI thought you didn’t have time to delve? Schedules to keep?”
    He frowned thoughtfully. “Yeah, that could’ve been why.”
    Torin opened her mouth, and closed it again. Those were the first Trun Alamber had ever seen; of course he was going to ask. They were the first Trun Torin had ever seen. According to the information in Intell’s packet, which she suspected had been heavily cribbed from
Races of the Confederation
, a book every schoolkid was familiar with, the Trun were hermaphroditic, all of them able to produce viable sperm and carry young. They preferred to live in large family groups. Having colonized four planets, they’d decided that was enough of that and, for the most part, left their home planet only to visit one of the other three. Having spent the last sixteen years jumping from battle to battle all through the OutSectors, Torin had to remind herself that most people never left the gravity well they’d been born in.
    Last of the four planets settled, only sixty percent of Abalae’s population were permanent residents, the other forty percent held short-term visas and attended one of the five Centers of Learning or two Centers of Discovery, or were visitors at one of the four Centers of Commerce or the seven Centers of Nature. Given the split, Torin had assumed they’d go unnoticed. It hadn’t occurred to her that the Younger Races in general didn’t frequent this part of the Core. Why would they? The military had always been pointed in the other direction.
    â€œNice bit of recon,