A Deepness in the Sky

"Anyway. I've been tracking gossip. We've got to be really, really careful." And she was off into military tactics and speculations about the Emergents' weapons systems. Qiwi's mother was Deputy Fleet Captain, but she was an armsman, too. AStrentmannian armsman. Most of the Brat's time in transit had been spent on math and trajectories and engineering. The bactry and the bonsai were her father's influence. She could oscillate between bloodthirsty armsman, wily trader, and bonsai artist—all in the space of a few seconds. How had her parents ever thought to marry? And what a lonely, messed-up kid they produced. "So we could beat the Emergents in a straight-out fight," said Qiwi. "And they know that. That's why they're being so nice. The thing to do is play along with them; we need their heavy lifters. Afterwards, if they live up to the agreement, they may be rich but we'll be much richer. Those jokers couldn't sell air to a tankless temp.If things stay square, we'll come out of this operation with effective control."

Ezr finished a sequence and took another sample. "Well," he said, "Trixia thinks they don't see this as a trade interaction at all."

"Um." Funny how Qiwi insulted almost everything about Vinh—except Trixia. Mostly she just seemed to ignore Trixia. Qiwi was uncharacteristically silent. For almost a second. "I think your friend has it right. Look, Vinh, I shouldn't be telling you this, but there's quite a split on the Trading Committee." Unless her own mother had blabbed, this had to be fantasy. "My guess is, there are some idiots on the Committee who think this is purely a business negotiation, each side bringing their best to a common effort—and as usual, our side being the cleverest negotiator. They don't understand that if we get murdered, it doesn't matter that the other side has a net loss. We've got to play this tough, be ready for an ambush."

In her own bloodthirsty way, Qiwi sounded like Trixia. "Mama hasn't said so straight out, but they may be deadlocked." She looked at him sideways, a child pretending to conspiracy. "You're an owner, Ezr. You could talk to—"

"Qiwi!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I didn't say anything. I didn't say anything!"

She let him be for a hundred seconds or so, then started on her schemes for making profit off the Emergents, "if we live through the next few Msecs." If the Spider world and the OnOff star hadn't existed, the Emergents would have been the find of the century in this end of Qeng Ho space. From watching their fleet operations, it was clear that they had some special cleverness with automation and systems planning. At the same time, their starships were less than half as fast as the Qeng Ho's, and their bioscience was just bad. Qiwi had a hundred plans for turning all that to profit.

Ezr let the words wash over him, barely heard. Another time, he might have lost himself in concentration on the work at hand. No chance on this shift. Plans that spanned two centuries were all coming down to a few critical Ksecs now, and for the first time he wondered about his fleet's management. Trixia was an outsider, but brilliant and with a different viewpoint from lifelong Traders. The Brat was smart, but normally her opinions were worthless. This time...maybe "Mama"had put her up to this. Kira Pen Lisolet's outlook had been formed very far away, about as far as you could get and still be in the Qeng Ho realm; maybe she thought a teenage apprentice could affect things just because he was from an owner's Family. Damn...

The shift passed without further insight. He'd be off in fifteen hundred seconds. If he skipped lunch, he had time to change clothes...time to ask for an appointment with Captain Park. In the two years subjective that he'd been with the expedition, he had never presumed on his Family connections.And what good can I really do now? Could I really break a stalemate? He dithered around that worry through the end of the shift. He was still dithering as he chucked his bactry coveralls...and...called the Captain's Audience Secretary.

Qiwi's grin was as insolent as ever. "Tell 'em straight, Vinh. This has to be an armsman operation."

He waved her silent, then noticed that his call hadn't gone through. Blocked? For an instant, Ezr felt a pang of relief, then saw he was preempted by an incoming order...from Captain Park's office. "To appear at 5.20.00 at the Fleet Captain's planning room..." What was the ancient curse about getting one's wish? Ezr Vinh's thoughts were distinctly muddled as he climbed to the temp's taxi locks.

Qiwi Lin Lisolet was no longer in evidence; what a wise little girl.