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Colemenoport

Offices of the

Tree-and-Dragon Trade Mission


She had got through the whole list, and was justly weary from her labors, Padi told herself, as they approached the trade mission’s office suite.

“I think you might go on ahead,” she said to Tima as they came to the main intersection of the hallways. “Unless there’s something you need at the office?”

Tima paused, head on one side, and Padi could practically see the security equation running behind her eyes. The building was secure enough that even Grad was forced to admit that the traders might be in the office unattended. In addition, it was attached to the Wayfarer, where their living quarters were, by a security passage.

In fact, it met the previous working definition of a venue safe enough that one-on-one security need not be enforced.

However, the death of Vanner Higgs, and Father’s subsequent wounding, had struck the security team to the heart, to the point that they were inclined to be overcareful. And over-care was not, so Padi thought, giving them peace. In fact, it was making them more anxious. It was perfectly plain to see in the mosaic that had formed against the air just behind Tima’s shoulder. And, really, Tima deserved peace, and ease, and—

The mosaic smoothed, colors subtly intensifying.

Tima sighed.

“Of course, Trader,” she said. “If you need to go out again, just call.”

“I’ll do that,” Padi said softly. “Thank you, Tima. We both did extraordinarily well today.”

“We did, didn’t we?” Tima grinned. “Your day was longer than mine, with all those questions!”

“But it’s what traders do—answer questions.”

“Better you than me,” said Tima, raising a hand in farewell as she turned toward the hall that led to the Wayfarer.

Padi turned in the opposite direction, toward the trade mission’s office.

* * *

Truly, it had been an arduous day, Padi thought, as she approached the office, and her triumph was that she had learned just why the port wanted Tree-and-Dragon.

Colemeno’s warehouses were filled to the bursting point. The Dust had slowed manufacturing only somewhat, and there had been a judicious amount of retooling in order to better meet the needs of those ports along the Iverson Loop, but the Loop could not use all of the planet’s product. Colemeno needed Tree-and-Dragon and its connections to the greater universe of trade.

And wasn’t that a welcome change?

Padi put her case on the table, went into the kitchen, and withdrew a bottle of tea from the cold box. She cracked the seal and drank, eyes closed, savoring the coolness down a throat parched with too much talking.

Back in the main room, the message-waiting light was blinking.

Padi had another drink of tea, sealed the bottle and left it on the table while she crossed to the comm.

Her father and his lifemate invited her to share the evening meal.

Padi blinked.

A specific invitation to dine together, just they three, suggested that there was a particular topic concerning only them that required discussion. It would not, then, be trade mission business, though it might well be Clan Korval business, or even Line yos’Galan business.

Or, simply a desire to reconnect to themselves as kin. Certainly, the last few days had seen few opportunities for that.

Padi glanced at the clock.

It was just over three local hours before the time they had settled upon for the evening meal. She ought, she supposed, return to the suite. There would still be time to address the most pressing matters of work after she had refreshed herself, and before the meal.

Since she had been planning on returning to the suite this evening, there really wasn’t any reason to feel—just a little—downhearted. Was there?

She sent a note to Father, expressing her delight at the prospect of a meal shared with kin, made certain that there were no more messages in-queue, finished her tea, picked up her case, and left the office.

* * *

She was walking briskly, her mind somewhat occupied with the topics of the day, when she noticed a slight misting of the air at the turning of the hallway just ahead.

The mist swirled, playfully, and with no transition that the physical eye could follow, Tekelia was there in its place, smile particularly charming, eyes at the moment one blue and one brown, and long dark hair in a neat braid, hanging over one shoulder.

“Padi. Well met.”

“Tekelia,” she said composedly, as if a sudden jolt of pleasure had not thrilled her. “Well met.”

“I’ve been thinking about our last conversation, and it came to me that there is no need for you to depend upon the Speaker of the Haosa, Warden of the Civilized, or any other person to bring you to where you wish to be. You can bring yourself.”

Padi stared.

“I can what?”

“You can bring yourself,” Tekelia repeated. “You haven’t the way of it, yet, but that’s easily remedied. We can begin at once. Open your Eyes and Look at my signature.”

Padi frowned, and very carefully opened her Inner Eyes. Her Sight had been less confusing to her since they had come to Colemeno, though she remained wary.

She need not have worried.

Tekelia’s signature was quite amazingly plain, unique, and imbued with a sense of Tekelia that was as unmistakable as it was indescribable.

“There!” Tekelia said merrily. “All you need do is show that to the ambient, and you will come to me, no matter how far apart we stand.”

A bow, and another grin.

“I’ll pour the wine.”

The hallway was empty.

Show Tekelia’s signature to the ambient? Padi thought, frowning, contemplating the fullness of it, bright in recollection.

Well, she thought, very nearly merry herself, how hard could it be?

Æ

It was said that a master trader in pursuit of a profit knew neither weariness nor doubt.

This was a patent untruth. More accurately, a master trader displayed neither weariness nor doubt, nor any other thing that would give the tempo of the trade into other hands.

Therefore, he had been attentive and sharp through even the last impromptu meeting at the Colemenoport Trade Bar, with a group of small shippers known to Trader Isfelm. Each had Colemeno as an anchor for their Loops, their other anchors being yet Dusted in. They had been quite reasonably anxious about the effect of increased trade at Colemeno, now that it was clear, and had wanted guarantees that they would not lose profit.

That, of course, Master Trader yos’Galan could not give them, though he could, and did, ask each for a précis of their routes, cargoes, and resources.

He and Trader Isfelm had at last quit the bar, both on-route to their lodgings, having taken the shortcut through the office block.

Shan thought he might stop at the trade mission’s offices, and then thought that he would not. Truly, it was past time to go home.

They were angling toward the main lobby. He and Trader Isfelm would part there, she continuing to her apartments in the Merchant’s Quarter, two streets over, while he went down the security corridor that connected the offices to the Wayfarer.

“Good o’the portmaster to open the big suite to you,” Trader Isfelm said now. “Shows intent.” They walked a few steps, Shan wondering where this observation would lead.

She glanced at him, face serious.

“Mind, if you’re coming to us reg’lar, you’ll want to establish your own spaces,” she added.

“Indeed so,” Shan said, amused. As a result of their earlier discussions, Trader Isfelm had taken up the task of educating him about the port, the markets, and the vendors, with a determination that Shan appreciated. She also showed a tendency to come the elder kin, as if establishing a trade headquarters in a foreign port might be something a bit out of his way, as a master trader.

“Once we are firm, we will look about us for the most favorable location,” he added.

“That’s the way of it,” Trader Isfelm said approvingly, as they followed the hall down to the intersection where they would part. “First one first, then on to the second. Speaking of the same, what did you think—”

She put out a sudden hand, catching Shan’s arm and pulling him gently to a stop.

Shan blinked—and blinked again, as he saw Padi at the mouth of the secure hallway across the lobby, speaking with some intensity to her particular friend, Tekelia vesterGranz.

“That’s one of the wild ones,” Trader Isfelm breathed. “Not allowed at port, is how they write the law here, so best we just don’t see them.”

This shortly became very easy. No sooner had they stopped than Tekelia bowed—and vanished in a modest swirl of mist.

Shan drew a careful breath, watching as Padi frowned at—or possibly into—the air—for an entire minute before vanishing in her turn.

Trader Isfelm dropped his arm.

“You knew she could do that, o’course.”

“That?” Shan said, not quite ready to analyze his feelings on the matter. “Not that precise thing, no. However, one does wish for one’s heir to be remarkable.”

Trader Isfelm laughed and continued forward.

“Seems you’ve got that,” she said.

“So it does,” Shan said, falling into step beside her. “So it does.”


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