Plague Ship | Page 9

life and every male who reached
adulthood went armed and ready for combat until he became a "Speaker for the past"--too
old to bear arms in the field. Due to the nature of their battling lives, relatively few of the
Salariki ever reached that retirement. Short-lived alliances between families sometimes
occurred, usually when they were to face a common enemy greater than either. But a
quarrel between chieftains, a fancied insult would rip that open in an instant. Only under
the Trade Shield could seven clans sit this way without their warriors being at one
another's furred throats.
An hour before sunset Paft turned his goblet upside down on his table, a move followed
speedily by every chieftain in the circle. The conference was at an end for that day. And
as far as Dane could see it had accomplished exactly nothing--except to bring the Eysies
into the open. What had Traxt Cam discovered which had given him the trading contract
with these suspicious aliens? Unless the men from the Queen learned it, they could go on
talking until the contract ran out and get no farther than they had today.
From his training Dane knew that ofttimes contact with an alien race did require long and
patient handling. But between study and experiencing the situation himself there was a
gulf, and he thought somewhat ruefully that he had much to learn before he could meet
such a situation with Van Rycke's unfailing patience and aplomb. The Cargo-master
seemed in nowise tired by his wasted day and Dane knew that Van would probably sit up
half the night, going over for the hundredth time Traxt Cam's sketchy recordings in
another painstaking attempt to discover why and how the other Free Trader had
succeeded where the Queen's men were up against a stone wall.
The harvesting of Koros stones was, as Dane and all those who had been briefed from
Cam's records knew, a perilous job. Though the rule of the Salariki was undisputed on the
land masses of Sargol, it was another matter in the watery world of the shallow seas.
There the Gorp were in command of the territory and one had to be constantly alert for
attack from the sly, reptilian intelligence, so alien to the thinking processes of both
Salariki and Terran that there was, or seemed to be, no point of possible contact. One
went gathering Koros gems after balancing life against gain. And perhaps the Salariki did
not see any profit in that operation. Yet Traxt Cam had brought back his bag of
gems--somehow he had managed to secure them in trade.
Van Rycke climbed the ramp, hurrying on into the Queen as if he would not get back to
his records soon enough. But Dane paused and looked back at the grass jungle a little

wistfully. To his mind these early morning hours were the best time on Sargol. The light
was golden, the night winds had not yet arisen. He disliked exchanging the freedom of
the open for the confinement of the spacer.
And, as he hesitated there, two of the juvenile population of Sargol came out of the forest.
Between them they carried one of their hunting nets, a net which now enclosed a quiet
but baneful eyed captive--Sinbad being delivered for nightly ransom. Dane was reaching
for the pay to give the captors when, to his real astonishment, one of them advanced and
pointed with an extended forefinger claw to the open port.
"Go in," he formed the Trade Lingo words with care. And Dane's surprise must have
been plain to read for the cub followed his speech with a vigorous nod and set one foot on
the ramp to underline his desire.
For one of the Salariki, who had continually manifested their belief that Terrans and their
ship were an offence to the nostrils of all right living "men," to wish to enter the spacer
was an astonishing about-face. But any advantage no matter how small, which might
bring about a closer understanding, must be seized at once.
Dane accepted the growling Sinbad and beckoned, knowing better than to touch the boy.
"Come--"
Only one of the junior clansmen obeyed that invitation. The other watched, big-eyed, and
then scuttled back to the forest when his fellow called out some suggestion. He was not
going to be trapped.
Dane led the way up the ramp, paying no visible attention to the young Salarik, nor did
he urge the other on when he lingered for a long moment or two at the port. In his mind
the Cargo-master apprentice was feverishly running over the list of general trade goods.
What did they carry which would make a suitable and intriguing gift for a small alien
with such a promising bump of curiosity? If