Uncharted Stars by Andre Norton Read Free Book Online

him as a Free Trader.
    From their beginnings as men who were willing to take risks outside the regular lines, which were the monopolies of the big combines, the Free Traders, loners and explorers by temperament, had become, through several centuries of space travel, more and more a race apart. They tended to look upon their ships as their home worlds, knowing no planet for any length of time, ranging out where only First-in Scouts and such explorers dared to go. In the first years they had lived on the short rations of those who snatch at the remnants of the feast the combines grew fat upon.
    Not able to bid at the planet auctions when newly discovered worlds were put up for sale to those wanting their trade, they had to explore, take small gains at high risks, and hope for some trick of fate which would render a big profit. And such happened just often enough to keep them in space.
    But seeing their ships as the only worlds to which they owed allegiance, they were a clannish lot, marrying among themselves when they wed at all. They had space-hung ports now, asteroids they had converted, on which they established quasi family life. But they did not contact the planet-born save for business. And to find one such as Ryzk adrift in a port—since the Free Traders cared for their own—was so unusual as to be astounding.
    â€œIt is true.” He did not raise his eyes from the beaker. He must have encountered the same surprise so many times before that he was weary of it. “I didn’t roll some star-stepper to get that plate.”
    That, too, must be true, since such plates were always carried close to a man’s body. If any other besides the rightful owner had kept that plate, the information on it would be totally unreadable by now, since it had a self-erase attuned to personal chemistry.
    There was no use in asking what brought a Free Trader shipless into the Diving Lokworm. To inquire might turn him so hostile I would not be able to bargain. But the very fact he was a Free Trader was a point in his favor. A broken combine man would be less likely to take to the kind of spacing we planned.
    â€œI have a ship”—I put it bluntly now—“and I need a pilot.”
    â€œTry the Register,” he mumbled and held out his hand. I closed the case and laid it on his palm. How much was the exact truth going to serve me?
    â€œI want a man off the lists.”
    That did make him look at me. His pupils were large and very dark. He might not be on fash-smoke, but he was certainly under some type of mind-dampening cloud.
    â€œYou aren’t.” he said after a moment, “a runner.”
    â€œNo.” I replied. Smuggling was a paying game. However, the Guild had it sewed up so well that only someone with addled brains would try it.
    â€œThen what are you?” His scowl was back.
    â€œSomeone who needs a pilot—” I was beginning when Eet’s thought pricked me.
    â€œWe have stayed here too long. Be ready to guide him.”
    There was silence. I had not finished my sentence. Ryzk stared at me, but his eyes seemed unfocused, as if he did not really see me at all. Then he grunted and pushed aside the still unfinished second beaker.
    â€œSleepy,” he muttered. “Out of here—”
    â€œYes,” I agreed. “Come to my place.” I was on his left, helping him to balance on unsteady feet, my hand slipped under his elbow to guide him. Luckily he was still enough in command of his body to walk. I could not have pulled him along, since though he was several inches shorter than I, his planet days had given him bulk of body which was largely ill-carried lard.
    The lizard stepped out as if to bar our way and I felt Eet stir. Whether he planted some warning, as he seemed to have planted the desire to go in Ryzk, I do not know. But the waiter turned abruptly to the next booth, leaving us a free path to the door. And we made it out of the stink of the place