forward into the pickup eye of the raft’s vidcast unit and spoke towards the omni-directional mike.
“Malcolm Hammurabi, Captain-Owner of the free freighter
Umbra.
To see Lord Dominic Rose. Business. As was earlier agreed, my pilot and I are unarmed.”
They sat quietly while someone on shore dutifully relayed this information to someone equipped to deal with it. The raft’s fans droned like an idle beehive beneath the floor.
The screen flickered briefly, then cleared. An unremarkable middle-aged man appeared on the screen glass. He was trying hard not to look bored.
“You’re early, Captain. His Lordship has just entered conference. I am instructed to direct you to land. His Lordship cannot meet you there, but there will be someone suitable to greet you dockside and conduct you to the residence. Take the third slip, please.”
The light faded, taking the face with it.
“Efficient S.O.B.,” Takaharu said mildly. “A lot like his boss, I suspect.”
“You’re familiar with Rose’s reputation?” Mal said, slightly surprised. “You didn’t mention it before.”
“Before what? I didn’t expect you’d have personal dealing with him. No, friend of mine once bought an ampule of thryacin from one of ‘his Lordship’s’ dealers. For a pet doggish that had the gout. Turned out to be colored ink.” The mate revved the engine, coasted around a small moored boat. “The doggish died,” he added.
“Um.” Mal flipped off their own tridee. “Haven’t seen him myself in some time. Doubt if he’s changed much. He’s a funny character. As they get older, most crooks become more fearful of death. Not Rose. He just becomes a little less moral, if that’s possible.”
Takaharu turned a sardonic face to his captain. “I wouldn’t think so, judging from all I’ve heard of him.”
“All things are possible. But if he’s still degenerating he must be down to fractions by now. Your question would amuse him.”
“And you think you can deal with a thing like that?”
Mal shrugged. “For what I want to do, I’ll have to. According to the Holy Books, to quote, ‘the percentage of matter in the universe that is composed of intelligent organic matter is comparable to a typical human’s casual expectoration in any two of Terra’s oceans.’ It’s not too difficult to put such people in proper perspective, depersonalize them. Try to think of a rock with rabies. Here’s the slip.”
Throwing more power to the rear-right fan, Takaharu eased the raft around and edged up onto the dull plastic mat tacked down over the sand. A tall young man waited by the side of a telescoping ramp. Although far slimmer, almost gaunt, he was taller than Mal. Nearly two meters, he would have towered over the Mate. Dark complexion, red hair, and boyishly good-looking, Mal noticed. The youth extended a long arm to help Mal up from the cabin port, realized his error and flushed.
“Apologies, sir. I’m afraid I’m not used to this.”
“Skip it, kid.”
“I am to conduct you to his Lordship’s residence.”
“Fine. As agreed, my pilot will remain on board until my return.” He waved back to a watching Takaharu, who promptly cut the engines on the raft. The craft settled gently to the landing mat as air was expelled from its cushion.
Mal turned back to his guide and with a start noticed that the ornament curled about the lad’s right shoulder was more than simply well-crafted. It was alive.
Pleated wings unfolded to reveal a long neck topped by a flat triangular head. Wide yellow eyes stared down at him quizzically. The Captain took a step backwards and groped for the blaster that wasn’t there. The youth noticed the flinching movement and hastened to explain.
“It’s all right, sir. He won’t harm you. He’s harmless. Well, tame, anyway.” He reached up and began scratching the reptile on the back of the slightly ridged neck. The snake closed its eyes and relaxed, the wings refolding. “He’s just wary of
“Malcolm Hammurabi, Captain-Owner of the free freighter
Umbra.
To see Lord Dominic Rose. Business. As was earlier agreed, my pilot and I are unarmed.”
They sat quietly while someone on shore dutifully relayed this information to someone equipped to deal with it. The raft’s fans droned like an idle beehive beneath the floor.
The screen flickered briefly, then cleared. An unremarkable middle-aged man appeared on the screen glass. He was trying hard not to look bored.
“You’re early, Captain. His Lordship has just entered conference. I am instructed to direct you to land. His Lordship cannot meet you there, but there will be someone suitable to greet you dockside and conduct you to the residence. Take the third slip, please.”
The light faded, taking the face with it.
“Efficient S.O.B.,” Takaharu said mildly. “A lot like his boss, I suspect.”
“You’re familiar with Rose’s reputation?” Mal said, slightly surprised. “You didn’t mention it before.”
“Before what? I didn’t expect you’d have personal dealing with him. No, friend of mine once bought an ampule of thryacin from one of ‘his Lordship’s’ dealers. For a pet doggish that had the gout. Turned out to be colored ink.” The mate revved the engine, coasted around a small moored boat. “The doggish died,” he added.
“Um.” Mal flipped off their own tridee. “Haven’t seen him myself in some time. Doubt if he’s changed much. He’s a funny character. As they get older, most crooks become more fearful of death. Not Rose. He just becomes a little less moral, if that’s possible.”
Takaharu turned a sardonic face to his captain. “I wouldn’t think so, judging from all I’ve heard of him.”
“All things are possible. But if he’s still degenerating he must be down to fractions by now. Your question would amuse him.”
“And you think you can deal with a thing like that?”
Mal shrugged. “For what I want to do, I’ll have to. According to the Holy Books, to quote, ‘the percentage of matter in the universe that is composed of intelligent organic matter is comparable to a typical human’s casual expectoration in any two of Terra’s oceans.’ It’s not too difficult to put such people in proper perspective, depersonalize them. Try to think of a rock with rabies. Here’s the slip.”
Throwing more power to the rear-right fan, Takaharu eased the raft around and edged up onto the dull plastic mat tacked down over the sand. A tall young man waited by the side of a telescoping ramp. Although far slimmer, almost gaunt, he was taller than Mal. Nearly two meters, he would have towered over the Mate. Dark complexion, red hair, and boyishly good-looking, Mal noticed. The youth extended a long arm to help Mal up from the cabin port, realized his error and flushed.
“Apologies, sir. I’m afraid I’m not used to this.”
“Skip it, kid.”
“I am to conduct you to his Lordship’s residence.”
“Fine. As agreed, my pilot will remain on board until my return.” He waved back to a watching Takaharu, who promptly cut the engines on the raft. The craft settled gently to the landing mat as air was expelled from its cushion.
Mal turned back to his guide and with a start noticed that the ornament curled about the lad’s right shoulder was more than simply well-crafted. It was alive.
Pleated wings unfolded to reveal a long neck topped by a flat triangular head. Wide yellow eyes stared down at him quizzically. The Captain took a step backwards and groped for the blaster that wasn’t there. The youth noticed the flinching movement and hastened to explain.
“It’s all right, sir. He won’t harm you. He’s harmless. Well, tame, anyway.” He reached up and began scratching the reptile on the back of the slightly ridged neck. The snake closed its eyes and relaxed, the wings refolding. “He’s just wary of
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