Ghost Ship
flicked a grin at Val Con. “Not sure the kinfolk’d be real happy to have me visiting again so soon.”
    “I believe that a certified voice stamp will serve admirably,” Jeeves said. “I will ascertain from Pod 77 whether there are specific command phrases required.”
    “Excellent.” Val Con came to his feet. “We thank you for bringing this matter to our—”
    “There is one more thing, sir,” Jeeves interrupted delicately.
    Val Con paused, and Miri felt a thrill of dread—his, hers, theirs.
    “And that is?”
    “I have also been contacted by Pod 78. With a request for repair.”

ELEVEN

    Mozart’s Modicum
    Starport Gondola

    Mozart’s Modicum was a tea shop at the intersection of Orange Main and Blue Main, a good jog from the Gondola Book Market, well over into the green section of the port. Jog, Theo did, a bag of booksticks slung over her shoulder, and pleased that she’d advertently coded a second alarm into her watch, once she got a look at what she’d be dealing with. The book market was easily the size of Anlingdin Academy; a person could spend days—years—inside, browsing the wares and stopping every now and then at one of the convenient market cafes for tea and a handwich.
    Of course, she didn’t have years, she had exactly two hours, ship-time, before her meeting with Merchant Bilinoda.
    Right here. At Mozart’s Modicum.
    After the book market and her jogging tour of the port, she had expected the “tea shop” to be oversized, brightly lit, and crammed with people.
    In fact, the address she had been given was a small shop with a striped awning shading a modest green door. On the door, picked out in subdued glitterchips, was the name of the shop, and a subtitle: Classic teas and chernubia.
    Theo sighed, pleased by the quiet neatness of the words, the door, the awning. Then she shook herself, remembering that she was here for a reason, and that time was moving.
    She went forward; the door opened for her and she stepped into a pleasantly dim interior. Tables were set at odd angles across a wide, shallow room. Many of the tables were occupied, and there was a pleasant hum of unhurried conversation in the air.
    Along the right wall was a long, low transparent case, with sweet things of all kinds on display, from simple butter cookies to a cake carved into the shape of a long-necked animal Theo didn’t recognize.
    At the far left of the sweets bar sat a single, unoccupied table, almost invisible in the dimness. Hers, by direction. Theo crossed and sat down, sliding the bag off her shoulder and onto the floor next to her.
    By the time she’d put her hands on the table, a man was at her side—slight and short, but not, she thought, Liaden, dressed in black shirt and trousers, with a spotless white apron over all.
    “Service, signorine?” he asked. “Something sweet? Something tart? Something sour?”
    “I would like a glass of Joyful Sunrise, if you please,” she said, which was the phrase her instructions had given her to say.
    The waiter bowed.
    “An excellent choice, signorine. It will be but a moment.”
    He left her, and Theo deliberately sat back in her chair, trying to look relaxed and calm, despite a sudden tingling of nerves. She took a deep breath to calm herself.
    This is your first in-person pickup, she told herself. It’s normal to be nervous. Keep at it long enough and it’ll be natural and easy.
    “Your tea, signorine.” The waiter smiled at her start, and settled a cup and saucer on the table before her. He poured, and put the pot on the table.
    “Has the signorine reconsidered a chernubia ?”
    Theo smiled and shook her head. “They look wonderful, but today I’m on short-time.”
    “Understood, signorine. Please, enjoy your tea.”
    He tucked the tray under his arm with a flourish and left her, as silent as he had come. Theo frowned. Hard-heeled shoes on a stone floor ought to make some sound! For that matter, even as isolated as her table was, she should at

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