Balance of Trade Read Free Page A

pulled on his gloves and started in on first clean up.

    "Hey, Jeth! Unship that big flat pan for me, willya?"

    Sighing, Jethri abandoned the dirties, climbed up on the counter and pulled open the toppest cabinet, where the equipment that was used least was stowed. Setting his feet careful among the welter of used tools, he reached for the requested pan.

    The door to the galley banged open, Jethri turned his head and clutched the edge of the cabinet, keeping himself very still.

    Iza Gobelyn stood in the doorway, her face so tight the lines around her mouth stood in stark relief. Dyk, lost in his dream of cookery, oblivious to clear danger, smiled over his shoulder at her, the while beating something in a bowl with a power spoon.

    "Good shift, Captain!" he called merrily. "Have we got a surprise ordered in for you tonight!"

    "No," said Iza.

    That got through.

    Dyk blinked. "Ma'am?"

    "I said, no ," the captain repeated, her voice crackling with static. "We'll want a quick meal, no surprises."

    The spoon went quiet. Dyk put the bowl aside, real careful, and turned to face her. "Captain, I've got a meal planned and on course."

    "Jettison," she said, flat and cold. "Quick meal, Dyk. Now."

    There was a moment—a long moment, when Jethri though Dyk would argue the point, but in the end, he just nodded.

    "Yes'm," he said, real quiet, and turned away toward the cabinet.

    The captain left, the door swinging shut behind her.

    Jethri let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, slid the flat pan back into its grips, closed the door, and carefully got himself down to the floor, where he started back in collecting dirties.

    He was loading the washer when it came to him that Dyk was 'way too quiet, and he looked up.

    His cousin was staring down at the bowl, kinda swirling the contents with the power spoon turned off. Jethri moved a couple steps closer, until Dyk looked at him.

    "What was you making?" Jethri asked.

    "A cake," Dyk said, and Jethri could believe it was tears he saw in the blue eyes. "I—" he cleared his throat and shook his head, pushing the bowl away. "It was a stupid idea, I guess. I'll get the quick meal together and then help you with clean up, right?"

    Dyk wasn't a prize as a partner in clean up, and Jethri was about to decline the favor. And a cake—why would he have been after making a cake, just coming into port? Another one of those everybody-knows-but-me things , Jethri thought, frowning at his larger cousin.

    Something about the set of his shoulders, or even the tears, Dyk not being one to often cry, counseled him to think better of refusing the offered aid. He nodded, trying to remake his frown into something approaching agreeable.

    "Sure," he said. "Be glad of the help."

Day 32
Standard Year 1118
Gobelyn's Market
Jethri's Quarters

    JETHRI WAS BEHIND closed door—which he didn't usually do on his off-shift—because the volume on the recorder was iffy at best, and besides, there were a couple of the cousins who weren't all that happy to hear Liaden words, even if they was spoke on archive, by a relative.

    "If you trade with Liadens, trade careful, and for the gods' love don't come sideways of honor."

    One upside of having the door closed was an unimpeded view of the gift Dyk had given him two ports back, to much guffawing at the entrance hatch. The Unofficial Up-To-Date Combine Com-Code Chart issued by Trundee's Tool and Tow. Besides the codes, most of which hadn't changed in the dozen or so years Jethri had been aware of them, there was a constantly changing view, in simulated 3D, of the self-declared "Best Saltwater Bathing Beach in the Galaxy."

    Jethri had—on several occasions, truth told—tried to count the different views offered by the chart. Dyk had helpfully showed him how to change the pace, or even stop on a particular image. Jethri discovered, by plain accident, that you could "tune out" the images of people without bathing suits—or the ones with bathing