“I am . . . hearing this from even my copilot of danger, but I am also hearing that . . . no thing is absent of danger.”
Clarence grinned. “Can't argue with that. You can mostly dodge the worst, if you're awake and noticing details. Sometimes, though, no matter how careful you are, you get caught out. Not so much a mistake as it is somebody else being a little cleverer than you are—this time.”
Beside her, Daav stirred.
“But,” Clarence continued, sending a bright glance into Daav's face, and shifting into the mode between pilots, “I had only come to make my bow to you, Pilot, and, I confess, to renew my acquaintance with your copilot. It has been too long, Daav.”
“Too long and not long enough,” Daav replied, surprisingly keeping to Terran. “Clarence. Is there something we should know?”
The other man sighed, his expression rueful. “There's something off, if you catch my meaning. Nothing a man can put his hand on and take away with him, but it makes the place between the shoulder blades itch, nevertheless.”
She felt Daav's attention sharpen.
“Here?”
Clarence shook his head.
“Not that I've noticed,” he said, and it seemed to Aelliana that the assertion held a secondary meaning, though she did not know what it might be.
Daav nodded. “But?” he prompted.
“But, I've got pilots—solid, port-worthy pilots who know how to keep clean—coming in from Out and Farther Out. They're telling the same tale, all independent of the other.” He shrugged, bringing his shoulders high and letting them drop suddenly, nothing at all like a proper Liaden shrug. “Ghost stories—that's what I got.”
Daav nodded again. “Thank you,” he said gently. “We'll be careful.”
“And if you happen to see something a little more solid than a wisp of smoke?”
“I'll let you know.”
The red-haired man grinned. “Can't be any fairer than that.”
He bowed, with pilot grace, though a little too quickly.
“Pilots,” he said, back in Liaden again, “I take my leave. Good lift.”
“Safe landing, Pilot,” Aelliana answered, and felt Daav at last relax.
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Contents
Liaden 11 - Mouse and Dragon
Chapter Nineteen
Those who enter Scout Academy emerge after rigorous training capable of treating equitably with societies unimaginably alien, some savage beyond belief.
Scouts are by definition courageous, brilliant, supremely adaptable and endlessly resourceful.
—Excerpted from “All About the Liaden Scouts”
They had flown after all like a Scout and a brand-new first class, and so missed the bonus. On-time delivery, however, was comfortably within their grasp when Aelliana entered the code provided by the client into the comm.
“Clan Persage, who is calling, please?” Though the phrase was recognizably the familiar challenge to an unknown caller, the words fell oddly on her ear.
Aelliana blinked and belatedly inclined her head to the round-faced young woman in the screen.
“I am Aelliana Caylon, pilot-owner of Ride the Luck. I have been engaged to deliver a package directly into the hands of Bre Din sig'Ranton Clan Persage.”
The young woman hesitated, as if the accent of Chonselta was something exotic, and not readily decipherable. Then the moment passed, and she inclined her head.
“I am desolate to inform Pilot-Owner Caylon that Bre Din sig'Ranton is away from House.” She tipped her head to one side, apparently debating with herself—and coming to a decision all at once.
“Bre Din plays music at the port, you know, Pilot. The place is called Bas Ibenez.”
“I thank you,” Aelliana said. “I will seek him there.”
By the time they had exchanged the required parting formalities and Aelliana had closed the connection, Daav had located the listing for Bas Ibenez in the Avontai Port database and had sent the information to her screen.
“You are far too efficient,” she told him, with a smile.
“Copilot's duty,” he returned, as she scrolled down the listing.
“The club opens in the evening only,” she murmured, with a glance at the board to check local time. Several hours, yet, until opening time.
