Conflict Of Honors by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee Read Free Book Online Page A

damn thing—old Terran dialect. Happens to be the everyday parley where Gordy's from."

    "The captain's learning Old Terran from Gordy Arbuthnot?" Priscilla picked up her cup and frowned into it. "Why?"

    Rusty shrugged. "Cap'n likes to talk."

    "I noticed. But—Old Terran? And an obscure dialect, at that?"

    "Better ask him—I don't know. But to get back—if the tests check out okay, you're in. And you'll work." He grinned. "Every body works."

    "But it seems that cabin boy is filled," Priscilla pointed out.

    "Cap'n'll think of something," Rusty said with decision. "More coffee?"

    She smiled. "Thanks."

    "No problem. How you like it? Black? Back in a sec."

    He was back almost immediately, handing her a mug; he remained standing, eyeing her consideringly. Priscilla took a gingerly sip and hoped he wasn't about to say anything unfortunate.

    "If you got a minute," he began as she clamped her jaw, "let's go 'round to the lounge. There's a screen there. We can call up the spec freight and you can give me lots of ideas for making money. Ought to be interesting, since you've been a cargo master and all."

    Priscilla let out her breath and stood with a smile. "Okay."

    "Right this way."

    Matching his stride, Priscilla asked, "What's the spec freight?"

    "Speculation," Rusty explained, and grinned at her blank look. "See, every crew member who wants to pledges a certain percentage each trip for speculation. Wood, say—that's what I'm interested in. Or perfume—that's pretty chancy, but Lina seems to do okay with it. Musical instruments—I don't know. Little while back we had some Grestwellin caviar—one of Gordy's finds. Sold out next port we put in." He shook his head. "That kid's gonna be one hell of a Trader. Knows what's gonna be hot next port, even if we don't know where next port is —here we are."

    The door slid open at their approach, and Priscilla followed him over the threshold into comfortable dimness and subdued chatter. There was a card game going on in a bright corner—Rusty waved in that direction and got two or three absent responses—and a few other people were scattered about, some in conversational clusters, some alone, with books or handwork.

    "There's Lina," Rusty said, and made a detour toward a single chair where a brown-haired Liaden woman was reading a bound book.

    She glanced up and smiled. "Rah Stee. They let you from your cage so soon?"

    "It's later than you think," he told her, waving Priscilla forward. "This is Priscilla Mendoza. She's a guest onboard this shift. Got an interview with the cap'n next. Priscilla, this is Lina Faaldom, chief librarian."

    Honey-colored eyes considered her gravely. Prompted by an impulse she could not name, Priscilla did what she had never done to Sav Rid Olanek or any of the Daxflan's crew—she performed the bow between equals, exactly as Fin Ton had shown her. "I am happy to meet you, Lina Faaldom," she said, with a careful ear to her accent.

    The woman clapped her hands. "She speaks Liaden! See, now, Rah Stee, are you not ashamed?" She stood and returned the bow gracefully. "No happier than I am to meet you, Priscilla Mendoza." She straightened and added in Terran, "Perhaps you will prevail upon this lazy Rah Stee to learn, as well."

    "Nag," Rusty said without heat. "I was going to call up the spec for Priscilla. Want to kibitz?"

    "I do not know. What is it—kibitz?"

    "It means to look over our shoulders," Priscilla explained. "Rusty wants me to give him ideas to make money."

    "Money, money. Already Rah Stee has more money than he can gamble away. Why does he need more? But yes, I would like to kibitz. Thank you."

    The screen was in the corner opposite the card game. Rusty waved his hand at the lightplate and entered his code. Lina perched on the arm of his chair, and Priscilla sat on the hassock to the left, legs curled under her.

    "Here we are. Contents, Hold Six: twenty kilos mahogany; ten kilos yellow pine; fifty-eight gallons Endless Lust