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FIVE

Susrim wasn’t late getting back from leave, not exactly late. But he wasn’t anywhere near early.

Squithy was on hatch, on account of Tranh was out on the dock with Dulsey; Klay and Rusko were ear-deep in star maps, according to Rusko; and Falmer was on tight-message with the certs office on-port, figuring out where she should start, and what modules she’d need, and how she’d certify for her levels, there not being a certified chef aboard.

That left Squithy on the hatch, knowing that crew was due in. That meant she was right there to open it when the request light flashed, and Susrim pushed in, barely waiting for there to be enough room, and jostling her against the wall in his rush to be inside.

The inner hatch wasn’t open, though, and he had to stop while she cycled down the outer hatch, and made sure of the seal.

“Open the hatch!” Susrim snarled. Squithy turned, and he did, too, and she could see that his hair was mussed, and one eye was swollen shut, and he wasn’t wearing his jacket. He smelled, too, of vya, and chocolate, and something unfamiliar and sweet. One hand clutched a bag to his middle; the other hand was fisted at his side.

“Open the hatch!” he said, and he was madder than Squithy had ever seen him, well beyond one of his moods. She took a deep breath that clogged her nose with the mix of odors and she felt like she couldn’t breathe, and then the outer hatch beeped, and the inner hatch opened, and Susrim was gone, walking fast, head down, and his boots making a racket on the decking.

Squithy blew out her breath, and went through the hatch, heading for the galley, and maybe, she thought, a mug of ’mite.


She’d finished her ’mite and was thinking about what she should put out for working snacks when a tone sounded, which was the main hatch letting her know that somebody wanted to be let in. But there wasn’t anybody else, she thought. Tranh had gone out the side hatch, and would let himself in when he was done with Dulsey, so—

The tone sounded again and she went over to the screen to look.

Two people, both wearing official Port jackets and caps, one plain, and one fancy. The one wearing the plain cap and the wide belt was carrying a bag over his shoulder. The one wearing the fancy cap was carrying a case.

Squithy touched the comm switch.

Dulcimer crew here,” she said. “State your business.”

“Thank you, Dulcimer crew,” said the fancy cap and case. “I am Sebi Irom, inspector with the port Health and Safety Office. My colleague is Bailiff Pars of Port Security.” She reached into a public pocket and withdrew what looked to be a crew card, which she held up to the camera.


Chantor’s Way Station, Health and Safety

Sebi Irom, Liaison Inspector


Squithy read the card, her stomach unsteady. Port security. Ma and Da had told them about port security, and how they should never let anybody from port security, or anybody from the port who hadn’t been specifically invited by Da and Ma onto the ship, and—

She swallowed.

“I need to go up a level,” she said into the comm. “Please wait, Inspector.”

Then she tapped the hatch comm off, and opened the line to the piloting chamber.

“Uncle Rusko,” she said sounding breathless in her own ears. “There’s an inspector and port security at the hatch and they want to come in.”

“Are there?” Rusko sounded faintly amused. “Thank you, Squithy, I’ll take care of it.”

“Susrim just got back,” she blurted, so Rusko would know where all the crew was.

“Did he? That’s good to know. Rusko out.”


“I am sent by the port council to investigate a matter of extreme delicacy involving Susrim Smith of Dulcimer and a member of the vice president of council’s immediate family. This matter is my highest priority and I have been instructed to treat it confidentially, and to insure that there are no indiscretions.”

Inspector Irom paused, sighed, added.

“No further indiscretions, I should say.”

The inspector and bailiff stood in the galley, and all the crew, including Dulsey, who wasn’t, but nobody said so, and anyway she was being quiet and almost invisible over in the corner near the oven, besides having come in with Tranh, so Squithy didn’t say anything and tried not to look at her. Klay was standing with Rusko, next to Tranh, and one step back. Susrim wasn’t anywhere that Squithy could see him; Falmer was standing next to her, and the norbears were a great, solemn, listening presence inside her head.

“In order to pursue my duty,” Inspector Irom was saying, “I must speak in absolute privacy with the captain of this vessel, and with Susrim Smith. If I am refused, I have been instructed to lock this vessel down, and place all crew members into the custody of port security.”

Tranh’s face was smooth; he didn’t look angry, or scared, or even very much concerned. He nodded at the inspector.

“You may take the fact that you are standing on our decks as assurance that Dulcimer and her crew will cooperate fully with your confidential investigation, Inspector. I am Captain Tranh Smith. Susrim Smith is in his quarters. He is indisposed, but has told me that he is willing to answer questions.”

“Very good. I appreciate your willingness, and will note it in my report.” She held out a hand, and the bailiff slipped the bag off his shoulder and handed it to her. She picked up her case with the other hand, and nodded at Tranh.

“Please, Captain, let us go at once to speak with Susrim Smith.”


Rusko and Klay had gone back to the piloting chamber, leaving Falmer and Squithy, and Dulsey—well, no. Dulsey was gone, too, Squithy saw. So that was her and Falmer and Bailiff Pars in the galley, together. Squithy bit her lip and wondered what they were supposed to do with him.

The bailiff was easily the largest person Squithy had ever seen, by height and width. This close, she could see the things hanging from loops and clips on his wide belt, though the only thing she could identify for sure was a stun-wand. She guessed the rest were weapons, too, and that made her feel both nervous and a little mad. You weren’t supposed to have weapons on deck, unless the captain had declared an emergency.

“We were just getting ready to set up work snacks,” Falmer said, brisk and cool. “Can we get you anything to ease your wait, Bailiff? ’toot? ’mite? Piece of fruit or a sweet?”

“’Preciate that offer, so I do, but the answer’s gotta be ‘no.’ On duty with the inspector like I am, that means not ingesting anything that don’t come straight from port supplies—sealed at that. If I even took a mug of ’toot, I’d be released from my position.”

He glanced around the galley, and nodded at the bench. “I’ll just have a seat there, and stay outta your way while you work. The inspector’ll call if she wants me, and then I’ll have to attend her. Otherwise, I’ve got my tablet here to keep me company.”

“That’s all right, then,” Falmer said. “You sit wherever you want. Squithy, you go ahead and make another pot of ’toot and some ’mite, too, and take fresh mugs to Rusko and Klay. I’ll get the snacks together.”

Squithy nodded, and started by pulling the in-use carafes and putting them to be washed. Then she started the ’toot. She usually made ’mite in the small pot, but it was starting to look like being a long shift for everybody, so she pulled out another large pot and made double the usual ’mite, working around the big bailiff, who was so absorbed by what was on his tablet that he didn’t look up even when Falmer clattered some pots together.

It was while she was measuring the ’mite into the pot that she got a sudden and vivid mind picture: all nine of the norbears crowded around Dulsey, who was sitting cross-legged on the decking by a pile of clover. They looked like a bunch of littles listening to a story from one of the olders at a meet-up, Squithy thought, and smiled a little to herself.


Tranh walked the inspector and bailiff to the hatch, came back to the galley and drew a cup of ’toot before he walked over to the comm and flipped the switch.

“General crew meeting right now in the galley, that’s everybody ’cept Susrim, who’s got alternate orders.”

Klay and Rusko came in so quick they might’ve been waiting at the door, Klay stepping close to Squithy’s side. She slipped her hand into his, and smiled when he gave her fingers a little squeeze.

“All right,” Tranh said. “Crew meeting. Nothing we say in here goes out there. Now—”

Someone cleared their throat, and Tranh spun to stare at Dulsey, standing in the door of the galley.

“Got it all confirmed and clear with the seven who’ll be traveling with me for a while, Cap’n Tranh,” she said. “If somebody’ll let me out, I’ll see how my crew’s doing on the side dock.”

“I’ll do it,” Rusko said. “Tranh, sit down, you’re not doing that leg any favors.” He nodded at Dulsey. “Pilot. Right this way.”

He left at a brisk pace, Dulsey following, and Tranh staring at the spot where she’d been, only lower.

“What are you two doing here?” he demanded, and not like he was real pleased.

“They’re crew!” Squithy said. “Tranh, that’s Mitsy and Ditsy. You said it yourself that they’re crew!”

Tranh turned his gaze on her. He looked tired, Squithy thought, and wondered what kind of trouble Susrim had brought onto the ship.

“I did, didn’t I?” Tranh closed his eyes and had a sip of ’toot. When he opened his eyes, he didn’t look any less tired, but he didn’t look mad, either.

“All right, crew members, get in here and be prepared to listen hard.”

“Coming!” Rusko said, slipping back into the galley. He grabbed the mug of ’toot Falmer held out to him and slid onto the bench next to Klay. Mitsy and Ditsy marched into the room with great solemnity and settled themselves by Squithy’s feet.

Tranh walked over to the table and propped a hip against it, not really sitting down, but taking some of the weight off his leg.

“None of this goes outside the ship. Inspector Irom is firm about that. We keep everything confidential, and there’s a bonus in it for us when we clear dock. There’s other conditions I don’t like as well, but it was pretty clear that ‘yes’ was the only answer that kept crew outta jail and Dulcimer in the hands of the family.”

He sipped, and put the mug on the table beside him.

“According to the inspector, Susrim’s at risk of short-term physical and behavioral modifications, because of the inadvertent misuse of some drugs that were given to him without his knowledge.”

Tranh met Rusko’s eyes.

“Real insistent on that inadvertent, was the inspector.”

Rusko nodded. “Inspector’s gotta live here,” he said.

“So she does. Anyhoot, the inspector’s a medic. She took samples, gave Susrim a preventative shot which’ll help clean his system. This time tomorrow, Bailiff Pars or one like him will come and escort Susrim to a med office for a resample.”

Falmer started to say something, and Tranh held up his hand.

“I’ll go with him. I’m his captain and that’s port rules in reg’lar ports—captain goes with crew to any port-mandated hearings or interviews. In the meanwhile, some other port office is doing damage control. They don’t want it out that a vice president’s family member is within three Jumps of what happened to Susrim. That means any calls that might come in for Susrim, from now ’til we clear dock, come to me. Any queries of any kind, if it’s not a known contact, those come to me.”

He picked up his mug and drained it.

“Now those conditions I don’t like—crew on dock is strictly limited. The inspector would like to see us in lock-down, and I’m inclined to let her have her way, not—”

He looked at each of them one-by-one, even Mitsy and Ditsy.

“Not because I can’t trust you to keep confidence, but because this thing that happened to Susrim, it means the station isn’t as safe as we thought. We’re warned, and I’m not risking anybody else. Same reasoning, we’re closed to off-port supply. We’ll place our orders with the warehouses, but nothing off the docks—that includes the fresh market, Falmer.”

“Right,” said Falmer.

“That’s it.” He gave her a faint smile. “Next port.”

“Next port I’ll know better what I’m doing,” Falmer agreed. “No worries, Tranh.”

“Squith, I know you was going walkabout with Dulsey again, but you’ll have to catch up with each other at another port, too.”

Squithy sighed, and squeezed Klay’s fingers before she nodded.

“I understand, Tranh.”

“I know you do,” he said, and looked to Rusko.

“There’s some trading to be done, and appointments already made that have got to be kept, unless we want to quit dock empty. When I go out, Rusko or Klay will be my second. When Rusko goes out, he’ll have me or Klay as back-up.”

He shifted against the table.

“Bottom line is we want crew safe. Everybody got that?”

“Yes, Tranh,” echoed in the galley, Mitsy and Ditsy adding a mind-picture of norbears snuggled into a pile of grass, which even Tranh must’ve caught, because he smiled.

“One last thing, then we’ll get back on-shift,” he said. “We will respect Susrim’s privacy. Nobody’ll ask him about this, or blame him for what happened. If he opens up to one of you, listen quiet, for however long he wants to talk. We’re crew and we look out for each other.”

He paused.

“Questions?”

Squithy stirred, and he looked at her.

“Go.”

“Susrim wasn’t wearing his jacket when he came back aboard,” she said slowly. “Should we—”

“The inspector brought Susrim’s jacket back with her,” Tranh said, and shifted his gaze to meet Rusko’s eyes. “Also one of the figurators.”

Rusko sighed. “I’ll take a look at it.”

“Thanks. Other questions?”

There weren’t any, and Tranh straightened up.

“Then let’s get back on course.”


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