Power Play - Anne McCaffrey [91]
“His costs?” Diego said, angrily.
“Well, yes, of course, he has to make some profit from what has turned out to be an ill-advised undertaking.”
“Won’t restoration of the half-sunk shuttle suffice?” Sean asked, a twitch of a smile on his lips.
“Oh, dear heavens, no. The shuttle can either sink on its own, or the Jenny’s tractor beam will lift it,” Dinah O’Neill said airily. “No, the captain expended a considerable amount of time and energy, plus rations and accommodations . . .”
“Rations and accommodations!” Diego burst out.
“Why, you were fed from the captain’s table—”
“I doubt that,” Yana muttered.
“Well, my table, then,” Dinah corrected herself. “And fresh fruit and good meat . . .”
“Only when we threatened hunger striking,” Diego said irately.
“Whatever,” Dinah said, dismissing his complaint. “Time and effort, as well as supplies, mean some compensation must be forthcoming, or I fear the captain will retaliate against the planet.”
“What’dya think he’ll do?” Diego asked. “Sue it?”
“Captain Louchard don’t make mistakes,” Megenda said menacingly.
“Oh, dear,” Dinah O’Neill said, pretending dismay, and she leaned conspiratorially across the table to Sean and Yana. “The first mate isn’t going to be very easy to deal with, what with all he’s gone through.”
“Then he’d better be grateful we bothered to save his skin,” Bunny said fiercely. “Because I’ll never do it again.”
“You will find, Dama, that none of your captives are ransomable.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Dinah said sweetly. “You’ve already proved conclusively that this planet has products that are lifesaving.”
“The juice is useful, that’s true, but let’s face it, how many hypothermic victims have you encountered in your line of work?” Sean asked. “And while it doesn’t cost much to produce, there’s not what you’d call a good profit margin in juice either.”
“Ah, but there may be other items with which to pay your ransom . . . like your swimming, ah, say I call, technique?”
Sean threw back his head and laughed heartily. “That’s hereditary, Dama, and not many would put up with the inconveniences.”
“Like running around starkers in minus-forty Celsius?”
“Exactly.”
“I think I need to speak to the powers that be on this place. You are, if you’ll pardon me, really not the final authority. Or so I’ve been led to believe.” Dinah had cocked her head again at Sean. Then she turned abruptly to Bunny. “You promised to guide me to one of the communion places of this planet. Do so now.” She rose. So did Megenda.
“I will guide my kinswoman,” Muktuk said, putting a hand on Sean’s shoulder to keep him seated by Yana.
Dinah gave Bunny and Diego a stern look and pointed her index finger at them. Megenda took the half step necessary to loom above them. Bunny shrugged and Diego glowered, but both rose from the bench. So did Sinead, who eyed Megenda as she idly caressed the handle of her skinning knife.
“Remember to listen carefully, Dama,” Sean said, and then paid no more attention to the group setting out to the communion place.
“Let’s go and get this over with,” Megenda growled, herding everyone before him. At the door, he looked back over his shoulder at the bottle, still visible on the worktop, and shook his head.
22
SpaceBase Petaybean Immigration Facility (PIT)
Adak O’Connor wanted nothing more than to take his bruised and aching head back to his cabin in Kilcoole and forget about the wider universe and all its problems. He was an amiable man with simple tastes, because he’d never had occasion to have or expect more. He enjoyed the life he had once led, as Kilcoole’s expediter, and keeping the snocles working and knowing when spaceships were coming in.
Up until this morning, he’d really enjoyed being chief immigration officer and official welcomer but, between getting conked hard on the head and now this, he felt inadequate. That didn’t set well. Neither did the unanswerable demands of these latest arrivals. In all his born days, he’d never seen anything like this! Though he’d heard that both