Star Rigger's Way by Jeffrey A. Carver Page A

plants, and trimmed with curtains and psychotropic tapestries. The corridors were broken by frequent arches and alcoves and were busy without being crowded. Riggers wandered about in various forms of traditional dress: some in all-magenta tunics or full uniforms, some in capes or robes, others merely with a rigger shoulder belt or emblem. Most of them could have been recognized as riggers anyway. There was something in the gaze, the expression of dreamy intensity. A few required escort through the corridors, so lost were they in their visions. And some wore the special blue-edged belts which denoted the riggers of passenger ships—the fastest and most capable of all riggers, but not necessarily the most stable; these select individuals always flew with delicately chosen crews, under the direction of a Guild Captain, who was a com-rigger, a space captain, and a psychologist all in one.
    Carlyle felt strange—glad to be home, but not quite feeling at home. He kept a sharp lookout for his friends; he saw a few faces he thought he recognized but no one he knew. Does anyone recognize me? he wondered.
    They first went to the main lobby and secured quarters, which they visited long enough to have their possessions stowed and the riff-bud cultures set up near a sunny window. Then Carlyle, anxious to check after his ship and his friends, urged Cephean to come along with him. The cynthian agreed, leaving the riff-buds but bringing Idi and Odi. They went back to the same lobby and into the subsection handling crew and ship assignments.
    A Guildswoman waved him over to her niche. "I have my own ship, Spillix , to check in," he said, "and then I want to check on some friends of mine, to see if they're in port." He beamed at Cephean, who seemed bored by all the talking. The woman nodded and communicated at a touch with the Jarvis Spacing Authority. She recorded the pertinent flight information and credit exchange, based upon Carlyle's "lease-command" with a percentage recorded back to Garsoom's Haven. She asked Carlyle what arrangements he wanted for Spillix— immediate reassignment, short layover, or long layover.
    "Is that my decision to make?" he asked.
    She explained, "You've been assigned the ship indefinitely, in floating command, as long as you keep it in service with at least minimum profit, and no layover longer than forty days if carryage is available."
    "Really?" he said in surprise. Now that he thought about it, he remembered that all this had been explained to him back on Garsoom's Haven. "I really don't expect to be flying her again, though. Not as long as I can sign back aboard Lady Brillig ."
    "Perhaps," she said, "you should request layover on Spillix until you find out about that. Then, if you don't want it, you can sign the ship over to the Authority. But you'll have it as a backup in case there are problems."
    Carlyle looked at her skeptically, then agreed—mainly to avoid making a scene about something unimportant. Spillix had been a good ship, but she wasn't his ship. "Can you check on Lady Brillig for me now?" he asked. "And Janofer Lief, Skan Sen, and Renwald Legroeder?"
    She nodded and started working. After a minute, she looked up thoughtfully, shook her head with a quick smile. "The three riggers you named were on Lady Brillig ?" she asked.
    "Sure, but—"
    She held up a finger and went back to work, pressing a crescent-shaped headset behind her ear and working her lips silently. After a minute she stood up and said, "Could you come into the next room with me, please?" Carlyle beckoned to Cephean and followed. He didn't like this.
    They went into a chamber which was furnished with several comfortable chairs and a curved desk. Seated at the desk was a man who reminded Carlyle instantly of Holly Wellen. When Carlyle and Cephean and the riffmar were settled, the man retracted his desk about halfway into the wall so that it no longer stood between them, and he introduced himself. "I'm Walter Freyling. I'm pleased