Closed System

there was a finality in his voice. He smiled again, showing that Taratwo's dentists werea bit behind the times. 'You will be number oneat the customs shed at one hour after sunrise to­morrow. I will be there. Inspection of your tradegoods will be our only point of discussion.'

'Got you,' Pat said, not liking it, not liking it atall.

Darkness came to Taratwo with a rush. Thesmoky sky lowered. Just after the stygian darkclosed around the ship a tremor rippled the flexi­ble metal grid of the landing pad, causingSkim­mer'sgyros to whine in adjustment.

Pat set all detectors. The ship was an armedcamp. Instruments would detect the approach ofwhatever passed for a mouse on Taratwo, or thefocusing of any sort of beam on the ship.

For his dinner, he selected Tigian dragon's-tailsteak and Xanthos salad. He wasn't sleepy.Skimmer operated on Xanthos standard time, which did notmatch Taratwo's time, and he didn't feel like tak­ing a sleeping pill.

As he ate, he checked the ship's film catalog.He'd added several new titles in preparation forthe trip, and he'd seen all of them at least once,with the exception of a film which had been givento him on Zede II by his 'businessmen' charter­ers, with a hearty recommendation to enjoy. Hehadn't run it because, as a rule, he found Zedeianfilms to be heavy, often deep in psychological complications which would not have puzzled a XanthosU. freshman, always gloomy in outlook.

When he punched up the film he was pleasantly surprised. The theme was very Zedeian, but it had interest, if only to show that the Zedeians had aslightly antique view of the role of women insociety.

There was nothing wrong with the technical as­pects of Zede filmmaking. Zedeians were, after all,the Confederation's finest technicians. The holo­graphic image was almost realistic enough to stepinto. The acting was surprisingly good. The star ofthe film was a delicately built redhead with aknockout face and an extraordinary body. The story told of a young woman in love with one man. Shewas being forced by custom and her parents tomarry another. It was a period piece, set in thatdistant past before the Zedeian war, and as thestory progressed Pat began to see and hear refer­ences to Zede pride and Zede military strength.The male actors strutted, spoke with an arrogancewhich was familiar, because, although they weresupposed to be historical characters, their thoughtpatterns were the same as those of the Zedeians Pat had known.

He hadn't paid much attention to the credits inthe beginning. When the film ended he started it again and looked for the name of the redheadedactress. She was listed as Corinne Tower. Whenshe first appeared she was sweeping down a wide,curving flight of stairs, dressed in formal gown,hair piled atop her head. Pat froze motion, left theminiature woman frozen in space, so lifelike, somuch woman. Finally, with a sigh, he turned offthe projector.

He went to sleep with ease and dreamed of theredheaded woman. It was a very exciting dream.

TWO

A light, sooty rain delayed dawn. Pat lifted theSkimmeron her flux thrusters to land her directlyin front of the customs building. Other landingpads were already occupied by pitted and rustedwork vessels, long in service, and two new atmo­space vehicles. The names of the ships were, ofcourse, in English. It was a one-language galaxy,unless one happened to stumble into an obscurefield of esoteric knowledge, the study of extinct languages which had survived in fragments, or ofthat one alien language which man had encounteredin a book which was all that remained of a fasci­nating civilization out among the colliding gal­axies in Cygnus.

While he waited for Captain John Hook and hismen to boardSkimmer to check her cargo, Patsavored the names of the local ships:Canny Belle,Mary's Darlin', Jay-Ann.The two newer ships ap­parently belonged to the same company, since the names showed little imagination:Capcor I andCapcor II.

From appearances, some form of free enterpriseexisted on Taratwo. Pat guessed correctly that the rusted, battered older ships belonged to indepen­dent prospectors or miners.

'You are cleared, Captain,' John Hook said, hand­ing over papers to be signed in triplicate. 'I have heard that Capcor has eyes for your cargo. They'll go high.'

'That's what I like,' Pat said. 'Thank you again.'

He rode the cart which moved his cargo insidethe customs shed. There were thieves in customsin more prosperous and civilized places than OldDublin.

His was the only merchandise inside the hugeshed. The customs men helped him offload thecases from the cart. About two dozen men sur­rounded the platform on which his goods had beenplaced. He had had the computer print out copiesof his cargo manifest. He handed them out, smil­ing, saying, 'Morning, gentlemen.'

A tall, well-dressed man with a well-styled headof heavy black hair pushed forward. 'Captain,there's no need for that. I am prepared to makeyou the highest offer. I will take your entire cargo.'

Well, why not? He was after the highest price.He owned no obligation to the less well-dressedtraders who surrounded the platform. But whenhe looked into the tall man's eyes he saw coldness.The thin lips were pressed together. The face wasset in an imperious sneer as the tall man glanced atthe others.

Sometimes you just take an instant dislike for aman. It wasn't logical. It wasn't even good busi­ness. It made sense to think that the biggest firm,the firm with the new ships outside, would be in aposition to pay the highest price.

Pat didn't always operate on logic.

'You wanta take all the fun out of it?' he asked,grinning disarmingly at the tall, stern-faced manwho represented Capcor, whatever that was.

'Are you here for fun or for a profit?' the manasked.

Pat didn't answer immediately. He noted thatthe clothing worn by the tall man was a sort ofcompany uniform. Below the Capcor name andlogo on the left breast pocket was the name T.O'Shields. 'These boonie rats can't match my offer,'O'Shields said coldly. 'Excuse me, Mr. O'Shields,' said a grizzled, thinboonie rat. 'If you don't mind, I flew all night tobe first in

line. I have the first number.' The oldman sounded servile, but there was a steady gleamin his eyes as he

looked at O'Shields. 'Murphy, the man isn't stupid,' O'Shields said.'Your emeralds are low-grade. You can't matchCapcor quality.'

'Well, Mr. O'Shields,' Murphy said, 'I did stayup all night, so if you'll excuse me I'll let the mantake a look at my stones anyhow.'

Pat turned to John Hook, who was standing toone side. 'Is that the usual procedure here?' 'That's it,' Hook said. 'First come, first bid. Then, with all bids in, the seller has the right tocall for a second round of bidding if he's notsatisfied.'

'Murphy,' O'Shields snarled, 'you'll save us allvaluable time if you'll just take your pebbles over to the exchange.' 'And sell at Capcor prices,' Murphy said.

'I think we'll observe the usual procedure, gen­tlemen,' Pat said. Hook moved forward. 'All right. Line up by number. Stay behind the line to give each man hisright of private offer.'

The men moved back away from the platform.O'Shields was far back in the line, glowering, asMurphy grinned at Pat and hopped with sprynessup onto the platform. He looked at the cargo man­ifest, held in one hand. In the other hand he car­ried a battered leather bag.

'Well, Mr. Murphy?' Pat asked, as Murphy placedthe bag on the table in front of him. 'Capcor will offer you more in number andweight,' Murphy said, speaking softly so that thewaiting men

would not hear. 'Well, we'll just have to see about that,' Patsaid. 'I hear emeralds are coming back in style in the UP,' Murphy said. 'Well, the diamond is still the king of jewels,' Pat said. Murphy poured a glittering, rattling mass of un­cut gemstones onto the padded table top.

'That's my lot,' Murphy said. 'Right at twothousand carats. All good quality.'

Pat lost himself for a moment in the blood fire ofa ruby, shifted his attention to an oblong greenbeauty of an emerald, at least one hundred caratscuttable to a stylish stone of perhaps eighty caratswith chips for change.

'These are good-looking stones,' he said.

'Cap,' Murphy said, 'I know the competition.I've got my eye on one case of happy pills. I'll tell you frankly that I can buy more on this forsakenplanet with them than with all these.' He swepthis hand over the table to indicate the stones,misjudged, knocked a dozen stones of various sizesoff onto the floor, said a curse word under hisbreath, bent, creakingly, to begin to pick up thestones. In his haste, he brushed a few of themunder the table.

Pat, feeling sorry For the man's old, frail bones,knelt and began to help. Murphy crawled partwayunder the