Sailors captured, an offer made…
“Any word from the shore?” Blackie called to the watcher on the deck. “Gunson will answer for this if we don’t get the price we set.”
“I see some folk walking down the hill toward the wharf, Blackie. Better get up here. Some of them are armed.” Blackie left the cabin and found himself suddenly ordering the ship put into the wharf and tie up. He fought the compulsion but was unable to throw it off. He realized he should have brought a buffer to protect the ship. Refugio folk had psy powers just like the rest of humankind on the planet. Blackie shot a quick thought to his second, then asked him to tell the rest to cooperate with the authorities. His second was both a receiving and a sending telepath.
The anchor was raised, and the ship gently glided to the dock using its small electric motor. Blackie fumed but was unable to break free from the compulsion. The sailors quickly climbed up onto the wharf and formed a line in front of the authorities. The port officers surrounded the sailors and marched them toward the city, knowing full well the men and women could not resist.
Blackie expected to be taken to a brig of some kind but was surprised when the guards stopped at what looked like a hostel. The main guard singled him out, “You and your crew will be housed here. Do not attempt to leave the building. Please follow the directions of the steward and rest until the Overlord calls for you. Step inside, please.”
The guards had a telepath who had scanned them and identified him as the captain. The steward at the door stepped aside and motioned them into the building. He was a small, thin, fussy looking man whose face showed his distaste for their weeks-old sea clothes.
“If you please, men to the left, women to the right. There are bags for your belongings. Put the washables in the large net bag and choose a tag you will remember. Non-washables in the smaller bags. We have managed to keep the biting bugs out of the hostel — and want to keep it that way. When you have stripped, there are bathing chambers with a flow-tank and insect remover fluid. Please work it into your hair and smear it on your body. You can then swim in the bathing pools until you are clean. There will be towels and clothing on the far side of the pool. There is a supply of hair management equipment in the common room at the end of the bathing area. Please wait there until all are clean.”
The crew looked at Blackie, who shrugged and motioned them to enter. This was not at all what they expected. The facilities were spacious and just as the steward had described. Blackie wondered if the bug removing soap might be available for trade. He hated having to scald his ship each time they came into port and as they rinsed the foaming soap off their bodies, he saw the dead and dying biting bugs floating off into the drains of the heated springs. The clothing was comfortable and adjustable, so they were soon gathered in the common room where food had been laid out. The ship’s cook was quick to sniff each dish and declared it free from drugs or poison. The crew fell to feasting on the fresh vegetables and warm bread.
“Maybe we should get caught more often, Blackie,” one of the deck hands called out. The rest of the crew laughed, but Blackie warned them. “We’ll pay for this. They expect something in return, remember that.”
The steward stepped into the room and unlocked a door to a hall and flight of stairs. “There are rooms upstairs where you are to spend the night. Your non-washable belongings are at the head of the stairs, and they have also been smoked to kill off the bugs. You have freedom to move about this room and the rooms above, but you may not leave the building. There is a deck where you can see the city and the harbor, but you will see, you cannot leave that way. There will be a meal shortly after dawn and you are to put on your own clothes to be taken to the Overlord. They will be here in the common room for you when they are clean.”
“Might as well enjoy it, Blackie,” said one of the hands. “Nicest brig I’ve ever been in.” The group headed up the stairs to the sleeping quarters. Some were paired and took rooms together as there were some with wider sleeping mats. Blackie opened the door to the deck and saw the steward has been truthful. It was a long drop to the rocks of the shore, but he could see his ship. It was tied securely to the dock, and he was surprised to see it was guarded. It only raised his suspicions all the more. They were far too nice. What did they want?
***
Francos had Serept arranged for a conference room at the dock rather than bring the prisoners to the Residence. The report said there were ten sailors, and one was obviously the captain. Serept arranged for each sailor to be interrogated separately by a trained investigator but saved the captain for the Overlord’s own questioning. Megal asked to be included, and Francos agreed it would be of help. He did not want to lose his temper and Megal needed the experience.
The captain was escorted to the small office where Francos and Megal waited. They both rose when Blackie walked in and introduced themselves without their titles. Francos knew he would get more cooperation from the crew with respect and kindness than treating them badly. Blackie realized this too and was resigned his crew would talk about everything they knew without needing any compulsion.
“Ser Francos,” he said, “I thank you for the care I have seen you are giving my ship by posting a guard, but I resent having compulsion used on me and on my crew.” Blackie hoped by taking a strong stand at first, he might stay in control of this meeting. Francos motioned him to a chair and spoke when they were all seated.
“I understand, Captain, but you had shown no sign of wanting to negotiate. Our experience with Port has not been peaceful this past season. There was also some question you might have Ser Pesch on board.” Francos had stiffened at the tone of this Port pirate’s voice.
Blackie knew the incident mentioned was mostly the fault of Port captain Mack Gunson. “We anticipated that, especially after raid on the south coast last season,” he said. He hoped it would get a response from the stiff official. Megal placed his hand on his father’s leg as he realized his father was becoming angry.
“Captain Okapie, that is best left in the past. You have asked for a ransom of a member of our trade delegation,” Megal spoke softly to lower the tension in the room. “The man you are holding is a minor official from Northwest Trade City and his family has refused to pay what you have asked.”
Francos was startled by his son’s intervention but pleased. “I am not so dismissive of this man as his work and loyalty to Refugio are valuable,” Francos added. “We were aware of two women also traveling with Ser Pesch. Do you have any news of them?”
“We scan all the people we find on a ship. There were two women who were in the cabins. The younger one was assigned to the Exoh’s staff, but the older one was giving them fits and put in the brig about the time I sailed.” Blackie decided he might have asked for too little buyback, since they also were interested in the two women. Funny, no interest in the ship’s crew. Maybe they suspected Mack had set them up.
Megal pushed forward again. “Captain, I have been told the vessel you stopped was flying a diplomatic flag. Is that agreement going to be overturned?” He pleased his father with this comment because he was thinking about the future of Refugio, not just himself.
“I was not the one who stopped the ship,” Blackie said. “It was not flying a pass when we picked up the passengers.” He would have to have a talk with Mack Gunson and his new crew because that pass flag was never mentioned in his information on the ship. “It may have been removed by the crew of the capture ship, since it was flying a Pin banner instead of yours when we caught up with them.” Blackie was getting tired of the conversation. He wanted some action. “His far speaker had tipped me off that he had a buyback passenger if I was interested. Are you going to buy this man’s contract from me, or do we put him to working in the crab swamp?”
“It is in the interest of Refugio to end this state of disagreement between our people and Port,” Francos said. He could sense the Port captain’s impatience, and it matched his own. “While I understand the position of those who were the crew of the transport ship, after all these years, it must be clear, no rescue is coming. This constant seizing of ships and raids on settlements needs to stop. Open trade would benefit both our peoples.”
“Ser Francos, I can’t speak for the Grounders. That will have to be the current Exec Officer but as a ship’s captain, I can say it would be easier to exchange goods than stop ships and confiscate cargo and supplies.” Blackie thought of the green slime that killed the bugs as well as the egg bird dish served at first meal. What could Port offer to get some of that? Perhaps this expedition might bring much more to Port than he or Spacer had expected.
“Excuse me, Grounders?”
“That is what we’ve called ourselves for a long time,” Blackie said. “My mother told me it was because we were grounded here. That’s what spacers said if they had problems and had to stay on planet.”
“It does describe the situation rather well,” Megal said. “Who would approve an agreement?”
“The Exec would call a meeting and the majority of the adults would have to agree. GC always wanted consensus on any major decision. If you could include some of that bug killer goop and maybe a start on the egg birds, we might be able to bring the women back at the same time,” Blackie countered.
“The bug killer can be arranged, but I am not sure about the birds.” Francos was skeptical that the creatures would not survive the voyage to Port.
“Do you have any kind of domestic birds in Port?” Megal asked.
“We have a few tamed sea birds, but their eggs do not taste like those we had at first meal,” Blackie said.
“Then we can give you some eggs that will hatch the blue egg birds to take back. It will be easier than trying to take the birds. You will have to keep the eggs warm,” Megal explained. Francos realized that leaving his son to be raised by his grandfather on the hacienda was going to pay off much more than he expected.
“The ingredients for the bug killing soap come from Utopia,” Megal said quickly. “So, we can only give you a small bucket if it, but it is widely available there.” Francos sat back in his chair, pleasantly surprised at this exchange. Perhaps the death of his second son might have been a blessing. Time would tell.
“Ser Serept and my son will work with you to decide what we will give now and what will be available when Ser Pesch and the women are freed.” Francos could sense the man’s surprise. Megal glanced at his father. That offer was unexpected. A slight smile was all the reaction he got. “We will set a meeting for after midday meal if that is convenient?”
“Up to you. I don’t have any appointment, but I need to message Port about the possible agreement,” Blackie said. “I don’t have a far speaker in my crew. For some reason, most who manifest that ability can’t sail. They get seasick.”
“One of my cousins manifested as a far speaker and can’t ride in an aircar without nausea,” Megal said. “I will speak to Serept for an escort to the sending station. Until this afternoon, Captain Okapie.”
***
Megal and Francos walked up the hill to the Residence from the hostel. They paused in the warm spring sunshine to look at the docked Port ship with its tall mast and rolled sails.
“We need to learn how to sail those ships, Papi,” Megal commented. “It is much faster than creeping along the coast like we do now.”
Francos was surprised by the affectionate name but pleased. “I have wondered about that,” he said as he continued up the steep street. “Perhaps that might be something we can get the Port sailors to trade to us, along with the tree nut meat.”
Serept greeted Francos and Megal when they returned to the Residence. “You have a delegation from the Poh waiting for you, Ser.”
“Who is in charge of this party?”
“It is Romerie Malfe, and he has been insistent he must meet with you,”
“Well, I will see them when I have finished with the interrogators. Show them to the small conference room and do not offer refreshments. I don’t have time to argue with them today.”
The lead interrogator had dismissed most of his team by the time Francos and Megal entered the conference room.
“Ser Francos, most of the crew gave similar stories, so I asked only those with something unique to report to stay, or at least an example of the similarities,” he reported before Francos could object to the smaller group.
“Thank you, Esteban, that will save time,” Megal said, speaking quickly to head off his father’s obvious frustration. “It is good to see you again and know you are able to use your truth sensing for us.”
The lead investigator had attended the gymnasium with Megal and was startled to see him. “I did not realize you had returned to the city, Megal. I did not see any point in having some of the interrogators repeat the same information. Please be seated and we will summarize what we have found.”
Francos and Megal took seats and Esteban asked each of the remaining members of his team to report. The most surprising information was that a few of the sailors were willing to abandon their ship and stay in Refugio. They were impressed with the bug killing liquid and the quality of the food. The consensus among the interrogators was an image of a people struggling to provide for a growing population. The quality of life on the islands of Port was not good. What they reported only added to Francos’ determination to arrange for a trade agreement and end the hostilities between the two settlements.
***
The next meeting would try his patience he was certain. Standing in the hall outside the room, Francos closed his eyes and calmed himself with the exercises the healers had taught him. He entered the small conference room quickly and went immediately to his official chair.
“I was told you insisted on speaking with me, Ser Malfe. Please make it brief. I have much to do this late in the day.”
The churchman drew himself up and his anger flared almost like a nimbus around him. “I warned you the people would not stand for your flaunting of custom, Ser Morales. It has been observed you meet with evil Port sailors and the rumors have begun you do not have a suitable First Successor. There is unrest at your leadership, unrest that is growing,” Malfe rapped his staff of office on the floor. But due to the floor mats, the effect was not what he wanted.
“Were I to investigate these rumors, Ser Malfe, I suspect they would trace back to suggestions in your sermons and the jealous muttering of ambitious families. We have been here nearly two hundred years and dealing with the settlers in Port should not be as contentious as it is.”
He placed his hands on the arms of his chair. “As for the issue of a First Successor, the law says I must have two heirs by my 65th birthday. I believe you are aware I have a few years yet to accomplish that. You have brought yourself to my attention, Ser Malfe. Be certain my attention will be on you and your public statements. Take care you do not stray too far into the work of the profane, rather than the souls of your people.” Francos rose and looked down on the angry cleric. “I have work to do in that profane area, so I bid you good day. Serept will show you out.”
***
Blackie was pleasantly surprised the next morning when an official arrived at the hostel and escorted him to a small building high on the hill above the harbor. His crew was released to return to the ship to ready it to receive the partial ransom for the captured people.
“We have found it does not tire the far speakers as much if we employ the less used wave lengths at this altitude,” the man escorting him explained. “This will be relayed to a station on the South Island and then to Port.
“Do you have a call sign or a name of someone who is tasked with answering calls?”
Blackie hesitated because the call sign was restricted to a need-to-know status but decided to give it anyway. “Have it start with GC0255, then the message. That will get it to the correct receiver.” Blackie had written out a coded message to help Spacer understand they had a deal with Refugio, and he was on his way back. “We use far speakers, and I know it takes a lot out of you to do this kind of distance.” The man thanked him and laid back on the reclining chair as Blackie and his escort left the room.
The ship was being loaded when he arrived back at the dock. A stern looking man asked him to sign for restocking his galley.
“Ser Francos has extended you credit against my better judgment. He is a stern master, so do not fail him.”
“I appreciate his support, sir. I will do my best to fulfill the agreement we have negotiated.”
Should you want to read the whole story…
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