shore-gang chief forgot his laughter. “If you enjoy living, ignore him. Only Kasarax’s pack plies this part of the lake!”
Still fuming, Han strode down the dock. Badure followed after a moment’s indecision. The shore-gang chief called, “I give you fair warning, strangers!”
The old bull reared up a bit as they approached. He was the size of Kasarax, his hide a near-black, net-worked with scars. His left eye was gone, lost in a long-ago battle, and his flippers were notched and bitten. But when he opened his mouth his tremendous fangs gleamed like honed weapons. “You’re new faces to the docks,” he said in a whistling voice.
“We want to get across the lake,” Han began. “But we can’t meet Kasarax’s price.”
“Once, human, I’d have towed you across as quickly as you please and carefully, too, for eight
driit
each.” Han wasabout to accept when the creature cut him off. “But today I tow for free.”
“Why?” Ham and Badure asked together.
The bull made a burbling sound that they took to be a laugh, and shot a blast from his blowhole. “I, Shazeen, have vowed to show Kasarax that any of the Swimming People are free to work this dock, like any other. But I need passengers, and Kasarax’s shore gang keeps those away.”
The shore gang was gathered in conference, grouped in a knot of perhaps twenty, and shooting murderous looks at Han, Badure, and Shazeen. “Can you meet us somewhere farther down the shore?” Han asked the native Dellaltian.
Shazeen reared, water streaming from his black back, looking like some primitive’s war god. “Boarding here at the dock is the whole point! Do that and I will do the rest, nor will any of the Swimming People meddle with you; it’s Shazeen they must deal with, that is our Law, which not even Kasarax dares ignore!”
Badure pulled thoughtfully at his lower lip. “We might go around the lake.”
Han shook his head. “In how many days?” He turned to Shazeen. “There are a couple more passengers. We’ll be right back.”
“If they menace you on the docks, I cannot interfere,” Shazeen warned. “That is the Law. But they won’t dare use weapons unless you do for fear the other humans, the ones who’ve been driven from their jobs, will have cause to intercede.”
Badure clapped Han’s shoulder. “I could stand a little cruise right now, Slick.” Han gave him a wicked grin; they started back.
The others were standing where they had been left. Hasti held a large cone of plasform that contained a mass of lumpy, pasty dough, which she and Chewbacca were eating with their fingers. She offered some to Badure and Han. “We were starving; I picked this up from a vendor. What’s the plan?”
Badure explained as they shared the doughy stuff. It was thick and gluey but had a pleasing flavor, like nutmeat. “So,” finished Han, “no shooting unless we have to. How’s Skynx?”
The Wookiee chortled and held open the shoulder bag. The Ruurian lay in a near-circle, clutching the flask. When he saw Han, his faceted red eyes, which were somewhat glazed, grew wider. Skynx hiccupped, then chirped, “You old pirate! Where’ve you been?” He flicked an antenna across Han’s nose, then collapsed in chittering laughter.
“Oh, great,” said Han, “he’s tight as a scalp tick.” Han tried to recapture the flask, but Skynx curled into a ball and was gripping it with four limb-sets.
“He said he’s never metabolized that much ethanol before,” said Hasti, looking slightly amused. “That’s exactly how he said it.”
“Keep it then,” Han told Skynx. “But stay down; we’re going for a ride.”
Skynx’s muffled voice came from the shoulder bag, “Perfect idea!”
They made their way back to the dock. Men from Kasarax’s shore gang blocked their way to the embarkation float. Others, not of the gang, had appeared and leaned against walls or stacked cargo, carrying spring-guns, firearms, and makeshift weapons. Han remembered what
Still fuming, Han strode down the dock. Badure followed after a moment’s indecision. The shore-gang chief called, “I give you fair warning, strangers!”
The old bull reared up a bit as they approached. He was the size of Kasarax, his hide a near-black, net-worked with scars. His left eye was gone, lost in a long-ago battle, and his flippers were notched and bitten. But when he opened his mouth his tremendous fangs gleamed like honed weapons. “You’re new faces to the docks,” he said in a whistling voice.
“We want to get across the lake,” Han began. “But we can’t meet Kasarax’s price.”
“Once, human, I’d have towed you across as quickly as you please and carefully, too, for eight
driit
each.” Han wasabout to accept when the creature cut him off. “But today I tow for free.”
“Why?” Ham and Badure asked together.
The bull made a burbling sound that they took to be a laugh, and shot a blast from his blowhole. “I, Shazeen, have vowed to show Kasarax that any of the Swimming People are free to work this dock, like any other. But I need passengers, and Kasarax’s shore gang keeps those away.”
The shore gang was gathered in conference, grouped in a knot of perhaps twenty, and shooting murderous looks at Han, Badure, and Shazeen. “Can you meet us somewhere farther down the shore?” Han asked the native Dellaltian.
Shazeen reared, water streaming from his black back, looking like some primitive’s war god. “Boarding here at the dock is the whole point! Do that and I will do the rest, nor will any of the Swimming People meddle with you; it’s Shazeen they must deal with, that is our Law, which not even Kasarax dares ignore!”
Badure pulled thoughtfully at his lower lip. “We might go around the lake.”
Han shook his head. “In how many days?” He turned to Shazeen. “There are a couple more passengers. We’ll be right back.”
“If they menace you on the docks, I cannot interfere,” Shazeen warned. “That is the Law. But they won’t dare use weapons unless you do for fear the other humans, the ones who’ve been driven from their jobs, will have cause to intercede.”
Badure clapped Han’s shoulder. “I could stand a little cruise right now, Slick.” Han gave him a wicked grin; they started back.
The others were standing where they had been left. Hasti held a large cone of plasform that contained a mass of lumpy, pasty dough, which she and Chewbacca were eating with their fingers. She offered some to Badure and Han. “We were starving; I picked this up from a vendor. What’s the plan?”
Badure explained as they shared the doughy stuff. It was thick and gluey but had a pleasing flavor, like nutmeat. “So,” finished Han, “no shooting unless we have to. How’s Skynx?”
The Wookiee chortled and held open the shoulder bag. The Ruurian lay in a near-circle, clutching the flask. When he saw Han, his faceted red eyes, which were somewhat glazed, grew wider. Skynx hiccupped, then chirped, “You old pirate! Where’ve you been?” He flicked an antenna across Han’s nose, then collapsed in chittering laughter.
“Oh, great,” said Han, “he’s tight as a scalp tick.” Han tried to recapture the flask, but Skynx curled into a ball and was gripping it with four limb-sets.
“He said he’s never metabolized that much ethanol before,” said Hasti, looking slightly amused. “That’s exactly how he said it.”
“Keep it then,” Han told Skynx. “But stay down; we’re going for a ride.”
Skynx’s muffled voice came from the shoulder bag, “Perfect idea!”
They made their way back to the dock. Men from Kasarax’s shore gang blocked their way to the embarkation float. Others, not of the gang, had appeared and leaned against walls or stacked cargo, carrying spring-guns, firearms, and makeshift weapons. Han remembered what
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