Acknowledged. It came onto the screen at last. Ginger used no signature at all.
Available? he tapped in.
Seventeen titles and authors came up on the screen. John frowned at the paucity of the selections. He knew they represented only a fraction of the works the Conservancy had decided to delete from the public information banks since he was last in port. If this was all Ginger had managed to salvage, she was either getting lazy or the Conservancy was getting more alert to the pirate salvage trade. As he scanned the prices beside her entries, his heart nearly stopped.
Gouger, he muttered. His frown deepened as he reminded himself that hed better be careful with his funds until he secured a new contract for Evangeline. He set about the painful process of selection, idly noting that Crime and Punishment was on her list. Not to his taste, but He paused, scowling as he tapped in his selections and received back no reply other than a drop location. He cleared the screen and debated a moment longer. It was stupid to take any kind of chances. But.
He leaned over, opened a standard ship-to-ship channel. John Gen-93-Beta on the Beastship Evangeline, calling Beastship Trotter. It was a long shot that Trotter was even in port right now. But a few moments later the answer came.
Beastship Trotter replying. Jason Gen-99-Pollux-Agri-27 speaking. Your message, sir?
Just a personal call, Jason. Have Andrew call me back, will you, on my channel? He knows where I stand by. John Gen-93-Beta, Beastship Evangeline, clear.
John listened to Jason clear, then shifted over to a quieter frequency. A few minutes passed before he heard Andrew hail him.
Hey, John, when did you get back in? Its been a while.
Just docking now. John debated how to phrase his offer. I wanted to know if youd have time for a cup of stim and some talk while were in port? Because if you do, I think I can arrange a meeting between you and a mutual friend.
Who? Andrew demanded in confusion.
Fyodor. John paused. I know, you remember him as sort of an idiot, but hes gotten past that now. But if you still consider it a social crime that merits punishment
Oh, yeah. Yes, I do. Dawning comprehension in Andrews voice, and the unmistakable lust and excitement of the collector. Good old Fyodor. Will he be with you?
John hesitated. But Andrew would be good for the money. Maybe that would be the best way, to keep Ginger and her dealings private. Besides, if she thought he had told anyone else how to contact her without her prior consent, shed probably refuse to ever deal with him again. No, better pick it up himself and find a way to get it to Andrew. Yes, hell be with me. Ill meet you at, oh, just past the security checkpoint, at about 2100. You can take me to dinner, or whatever.
Sounds fair. Ive wanted to talk to you anyway, for some time. Just didnt expect to catch you in port for a while. Uh, you still have Connie on as crew?
Was that trepidation in Andrews voice? A sudden uneasiness made John more formal. Yes, shes still on as crew. I meant to talk to you about that, too.
Oh. John heard Andrew take a breath. Sounds like you already heard the rumors.
Rumors? John asked coldly.
Uh, about why she went for Adjustment.
She went in for Adjustment?
Yeah, thats the story. Andrew sounded totally miserable now. Swear I hadnt heard about it when I recommended her. Uh, why dont we leave this for dinner, okay?
Sounds like wed better, John replied. Already he was regretting his generous impulse toward Andrew. Lets clear this channel, and Ill see you after I dock, okay? I got a few things to set up.
Right, John. See you then. As John switched back to the hobby channel and Ginger, he wondered just what Andrew had to tell him.
Penny for your thoughts, my dear?
Connie jumped, and only her harness kept her from clearing out of her lounge. It took her a moment to realize it was Tug who had spoken. He did such bizarre things with his voice synthesis. Some of it seemed to be imitations of accents or well-known voices, but she didnt recognize most of them. And his use of antique idiom seemed expressly for the purpose of irritating John. This, at least, was an expression she recognized.
I wasnt really thinking, Tug. Just staring I guess, and daydreaming.
Already making shore plans?
Not really, she replied, and realized suddenly this was true. Her plans consisted mostly of what she wouldnt do. She wouldnt look up old friends; she wouldnt go to places she had once frequented; she wasnt even going to check in at the Mariners Hall to see who else was in port. So what was she going to do? Just drift through the corridors, she supposed. See what was new in portable entertainment. Maybe get a massage, just for the body contact. She toyed with the idea of sex, but easily dismissed it. Masturbation sufficed. She didnt even need that as often as they had taught her was healthy. But a massage would feel good, Human hands against her skin, manipulating her muscles. It had been part of her therapy during Readjustment; the only part she had enjoyed, and the only part of her shore-side regimen she was still faithful to. But none of this was anything to share with Tug. Arthroplanas were generally disinterested in the personal aspect of Humans lives, and even if Tug were interested, she wasnt ready for the owner of the Evangeline to know that much about her.
You are silent, again. Tug made it sound like a rebuke.
Just keeping an eye on our approach. She tried to sound professional.
Evangeline is doing that as she always does. Despite Johns command, you need not be concerned about it. He was merely being, as I commented before, a prick.
Connie wiped sweaty hands down her uniform trousers. To have something to do, she switched the image on her screen. Now instead of Delta Station, she saw Evangeline. She had heard it said that no two Beastships were alike; looking at Evangeline, she could believe it. It wasnt just that each Beast was the product of its diet. It seemed to Connie that some sort of intent entered into it. Trotter, the first ship she had ever crewed on, had been spiky and forbidding. Trotter had looked like some sinister weapon set adrift in space. His constantly rippling spikes had always looked threatening to her. But Evangeline was all crystal delicacy and airy beauty. Connie compared the graceful swaying of her trailing spinnerets to the blocky functionality of Delta Station. There were myths that some Beastships actually used those long filaments as some sort of weaving device to extrude fine threads that became nets or webs, and that the Beasts laid their eggs on those nets and set them adrift to snare mineral food for their hatching offspring.
Connie considered it all a pretty fancy. No one had any idea how the Beastships reproduced, or could even prove that they did. Still, to look at Evangeline made one wish that there could be others with her airy grace.
Oh, she doth teach the beacons to shine bright. It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich gem upon a black-skinned ear. Beauty too rich for use, for Humans too dear
Tug paused, waiting.
It took Connie a moment to realize Tug was quoting something at her. Probably old Earth poetry. John had mentioned something about Tug being interested in the Humanities. She shrugged. Sorry, I dont recognize it. The ancient literatures are Johns interest, not mine. I dont even know if youve got it right.
Connie considered it all a pretty fancy. No one had any idea how the Beastships reproduced, or could even prove that they did. Still, to look at Evangeline made one wish that there could be others with her airy grace.
Oh, she doth teach the beacons to shine bright. It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich gem upon a black-skinned ear. Beauty too rich for use, for Humans too dear
Tug paused, waiting.
It took Connie a moment to realize Tug was quoting something at her. Probably old Earth poetry. John had mentioned something about Tug being interested in the Humanities. She shrugged. Sorry, I dont recognize it. The ancient literatures are Johns interest, not mine. I dont even know if youve got it right.
Its by a Human called William Shakespeare. And Ive got it right, although John would disagree and fume and fret. He loses sight of the need for poetry to be contemporized in order for it to retain its beauty and its sense. Who is your favorite poet?
I dont think I have one. Connie kept her eyes on the gentle wafting of Evangelines draperies and lines.
Well, we shall have to remedy that. Ive made a study of Human literature, although John despises my abilities and infers that one must be Human to appreciate the Human creations. It is, of course, only his jealousy because I excel him. But as a Human, you should have some appreciation for the works of your race. I shall instruct you on our next trip.
Oh, really, I wouldnt want you to trouble yourself. Connie demurred. There was a terrible sinking in her belly, the feeling that somehow she had just stepped out into a void. She didnt want Tug trying to get close. It was easier not to have friends than to deal with the questions and misunderstandings that always arose among them. Wasnt that one of the reasons she had become a Mariner, and the reason why she had slept so much this last trip? She couldnt let Tug spoil her fresh start.
I would be no trouble, Tug began, but she dared to interrupt.
Oh, no. I couldnt ask it of you. Besides, you would soon find I had no aptitude for it at all. It was one of my lowest scores on the options test. I gave up trying to understand contemporary poetry or literature long ago.
Well see, shall we? Tug suggested with such firmness that Connie grudgingly nodded. She was unsure as to how much authority the Arthroplana had over her. John was the captain, and theoretically the final authority over Humans on the ship. But Tug was the owner. Could he fire her? Could he report her as uncooperative, even maladjusted? The coldness squeezed up from the pit of her stomach. Dont take a chance.
Actually, it might be interesting to discuss Human creations with an Arthroplana. Perhaps a new viewpoint is what I need in order to enjoy them.
A delightful opinion! One that John, unfortunately, does not share. Which makes him most intractable about doing simple favors for me, when they involve Human literature, but perhaps you would be more helpful?
This doesnt sound good, Connie warned herself. Go carefully. Id like to be helpful, Connie forced herself to say.
Marvelous. Its a simple favor, I assure you. I am in contact with certain collectors and enthusiasts on Delta Station. They have for me fresh copies of some very old Human literature. Copies which they say are remarkably intact and close to the originals; almost free of that annoying biotech drift that infects material stored too long on biodegradable media. And theyre offering it at quite reasonable prices. I can authorize your use of my station funds. Its merely a matter of having you pick up the copies for me and bring them back to the ship.
Copies? From collectors? Connie asked dubiously. Didnt he realize what he was asking was unthinkable?
Of course, Tug assured her. I told you it was a simple favor. All I need is for you to go and pick
Couldnt you just access from the public banks?
Tug sounded disgruntled. I suppose I could, on a very temporary basis. For whatever paltry number of hours were to be in port this time. A totally insufficient way to do research in depth.
But I thought Beastships were allowed to save from the public information banks onto the ships banks, because were away so long. Connie didnt just think this; she knew it. Every Beastship was allotted library space and privilege according to crew population.
That? Our ships allotment was filled long ago. Johns reading habits and my needs for reference materials for my great work demand a vast amount of material. Unfortunately, having filled our legal allotment, neither John nor I can agree on what volumes can be dispensed with from our limited space to allow us to copy other material. And the Conservancy will allot us no additional space. Its a very frustrating situation, especially as the Conservancy continues to delete books and information as they become Irrelevant or Outdated or Unnecessary. Thats by their standards, of course, not mine. As a scholar of your Humanities
Information hoarding is no better than any other kind of hoarding, Connie informed him, almost prudishly. The words came out automatically, like a conditioned response. My Readjustment? she wondered, but went on anyway. Private collections of outdated information, especially fictional work, can have no benefit to our worlds, and only encourage consumer excesses, artificial values, and economic speculation, and
Pish-tush, my dear. You forget to whom youre speaking. As if I would ask for anything improper or disharmonious! Were we talking of ordinary Humans indulging in a mania for possession, I would concede your fundamental correctness. But we are speaking of myself, an Arthroplana. My life span lasts a multitude of yours, and my study of the Humanities will truly transcend time only if I have full access to the entire historical spectrum of Human creativity. I am sure the Conservancy would recognize my need were I to petition them. But until I have time to do so, I take my own small shortcuts. They neednt concern you. Consider this: the material I bring aboard is then copied onto organic memory filament secreted by the Beast for precisely such a purpose, and the original medium is then biologically degraded with a thoroughness your technology can never hope of achieving. No one suffers, least of all the environment. I am surprised that I need tell you this. Another Arthroplana might actually be offended that you would even consider that one of our race might deliberately choose to do something that was not totally harmonious with the natural environment. His tone had become progressively colder and more formal.
I didnt mean, Connie began, flustered. She felt chilled, almost threatened by his words. Shed never been lectured by an Arthroplana, let alone scolded like a child with poor manners.
You are, of course, quite young, Tug conceded generously. Even by Human standards, your experience is quite limited. So I forgive you, as is more divine than Human. This time. I dont think I even need mention it to John.
Thank you, she managed numbly, wondering if she werent missing half the conversation.
Dont mention it. Its no trouble. Now, the information I need you to pick up for me should be available within an hour of our docking. Of course, I dont need it quite that fast. My supplier will be waiting for your visit, and
The communication station beeped an alert. Delta Station to Beastship Evangeline. Dock at Gate Ten for unloading, please.