Trading in Danger by Elizabeth Moon Read Free Book Online

she ate ravenously but barely touched the wine.
    Her father and San talked of island politics—not the labor dispute, but such things as the proposed new desalinization plant, the possibility of a branch of the central university on the island, the state of the waste recycling facility at Harbor Town. Ky listened as if to a debate on the vid; it all felt unreal. Too many changes too fast.
    “We have to have enough time to get her some clothes,” her mother said suddenly. Her father and San stopped in the midst of telling each other what an idiot Councilman Kruper was.
    “How long?” her father asked.
    “I can get clothes offworld,” Ky said.
    “No,” both her parents said. Her father sighed.
    “Ky, you’re going to be a Vatta captain; you will represent Vatta Transport. You have to start out with something suitable. But Myris”—he turned to his wife—”it has to be quick. Three days.”
    “Impossible,” her mother said. “We don’t have a fabricator here; we’ll have to go toHarborTownand that’s—”
    “Less than an hour by plane.
Glennys
would have left tomorrow, but I put a hold on her. We can’t delay; we have delivery commitments.”
    Delivery commitments were, her father had once said, a natural force. Vatta Transport’s default rate on delivery commitments was the lowest in the industry and one reason for their wealth.
    “Five,” her mother said.
    “Four. Absolutely no more. And she doesn’t need much. Captain’s uniforms, shipboard and port. Not much more than that.”
    “Kylara, we’ll start ordering after dinner,” her mother said. “Bond Tailoring will have to do. I’d much rather you used Siegelson & Bray, but they can’t possibly do it in less than a week…” Her mother glared at her father.
    “Four days,” her father said. “You have the measurements; you can start without her. Tonight, Ky, we’ll go by the clinic and get your implant in—that’ll let you sleep on it so you’ll be in cycle in the morning. All loaded with the current codes and everything.”
    She had not had an implant since she left for the Academy—cadets weren’t allowed them. She was used to doing without, though she had missed her implant a lot that first year at the Academy. She was not sure she wanted one again. But she needed the extra capacity, with all she had to learn in a hurry. She shrugged. Better an implant insertion than more talk about clothes. “I’m ready,” she said.
    Insertion went easily; the implant access port still met all the specs, so all she needed was the device itself. She expected the moment of nauseating disorientation, the strange visual auras, the itch in her nose. Before she could access the implant, she had to go through the initialization protocols—the longest part of an insertion—and then the implant unfolded in her mind like a flower, each petal a gateway to another database. The displays flickered past, the communications links—now activated only for the clinic units—let her answer the questions without speaking aloud.
    “Checks out,” the medic said finally. “Any problems at your end?”
    Ky blinked at him. They both knew—because she was sending it—that she was seeing him with a vibrating pink halo, and they also knew this was a transient visual phenomenon common to implant insertions, like the other sensory auras she was having—the smell of freshly ground pepper, the echo effect to all sounds. It would be gone after a good night’s sleep, during which time the implant and her biological brain would have some kind of serious discussion without her consciousness around to kibitz. “No problems,” Ky said, aloud this time.
    “Good. Call me at once if you experience sensory auras tomorrow, or any difficulties with coordination, balance, after one hour from now. My recommendation is that you go to sleep as soon as you can.”
    “I will,” Ky said. Her father took her back to the main house, where she staggered only a couple of times