surprised to see it was now three separate tiny stores, each with a distinct decor and style. The first was done in a nautical motif, with lots of rope and a heavily carved wooden sign that proclaimed: Home Chandlery and Provision Co. She stopped, staring in the door unbelieving. There was a planked wood floor, with the individual boards pegged down with dowels, which ran to a low counter covered with carpeting, with a pair of heavy wooden chairs on the customer side and a tall wooden stool on the other. A couple flat screens scrolled pictures of the goods available and a sign gave their net address and invited - "Search our catalog and sign up for automatic updates and sales." The vertical sample bins behind the clerk's space were labeled. Chocolates and Candies - Coffees and Teas - Intoxicants and Spices - Fine Frozen Provisions - Fresh Fruits and Vegetables - Scents and Cosmetics - Pharmaceuticals - Weapons and Munitions - Defensive and Security Systems - Custom and Cut Dry Goods - Hard Wares and Materials – Domestic Appliances - IF YOU DON"T SEE IT WE"LL GET IT! - A big sign said above it all.
"Come in, come in, dear. Nobody else can come in while you're standing in the door." The fellow inviting her was sitting on the carpeted counter, eschewing the stool behind. His feet were well short of the floor and she realized with a start that he was a very small person. "You are the first person to step in my door. My very first walk-in even if you don't find something to become my first customer. But I will find something that you absolutely can't live without. If I can't, by damn, I'll find something you want to sell me! What you got to horse trade? I'm all fired up and ready to do some deals today."
April laughed at the good natured spiel and decided to stay a minute and see if she could give a little of it back. She skipped the chair and also sat on the broad counter cross legged. To do that she had to tilt the dagger in the front of her sash over so it didn't poke her and swept the muzzle of her laser back on her left so it didn't ride up off the counter.
"Ah, I've misjudged already. A person can't sit in those arm chairs easily, with weapons hanging. I'll have to see to that today. I'm Zach Bern, proprietor. I was just about to have a coffee, would you like to join me? It's of our own stock and I'd welcome your opinion of it."
"Please, that would be nice, but I'm on my way to breakfast and hungry, so I'll stay just for a cup and I'm off, though I'm sure I'll be back to this fascinating place."
The fellow looked even smaller, standing to get the coffee, even though the counter with the coffee pot was built to his height. He turned holding two huge white stoneware mugs, with a red logo and lettering that proclaimed his store and its physical address. "Keep the mug please. Drinking from a plastic mug seems so uncivilized to me. That's one of my goals to accomplish here, to bring a few more of those things to Home, that make life a little more enjoyable and comfortable. You're probably station born aren't you?" he inquired.
"Yes, but I've been Earthside to Australia and Hawaii and I go frequently to other stations. In fact I make ISSII and New Las Vegas at least monthly." She stopped and smelled the coffee carefully and took a long sip.
"Well? What do you think? Is that better than what you get in the cafeteria?" His face said he knew it was much better. The cafeteria coffee was from liquid concentrate and had a bit of a bite, almost a French Roast and cheap enough to offer the free refills everyone demanded.
"Oh yes. It's much better than the food service. I'm sure you'll sell a lot of it. Is it what you would call your house blend?"
"That's a fair description," he agreed, looking disappointed she didn't praise it more. "Are you a connoisseur of coffees?" he inquired, with perhaps a little skepticism.
"I have a friend Sylvia Anderson who invites me to dinner occasionally. I'm afraid she has spoiled me, by exposing
"Come in, come in, dear. Nobody else can come in while you're standing in the door." The fellow inviting her was sitting on the carpeted counter, eschewing the stool behind. His feet were well short of the floor and she realized with a start that he was a very small person. "You are the first person to step in my door. My very first walk-in even if you don't find something to become my first customer. But I will find something that you absolutely can't live without. If I can't, by damn, I'll find something you want to sell me! What you got to horse trade? I'm all fired up and ready to do some deals today."
April laughed at the good natured spiel and decided to stay a minute and see if she could give a little of it back. She skipped the chair and also sat on the broad counter cross legged. To do that she had to tilt the dagger in the front of her sash over so it didn't poke her and swept the muzzle of her laser back on her left so it didn't ride up off the counter.
"Ah, I've misjudged already. A person can't sit in those arm chairs easily, with weapons hanging. I'll have to see to that today. I'm Zach Bern, proprietor. I was just about to have a coffee, would you like to join me? It's of our own stock and I'd welcome your opinion of it."
"Please, that would be nice, but I'm on my way to breakfast and hungry, so I'll stay just for a cup and I'm off, though I'm sure I'll be back to this fascinating place."
The fellow looked even smaller, standing to get the coffee, even though the counter with the coffee pot was built to his height. He turned holding two huge white stoneware mugs, with a red logo and lettering that proclaimed his store and its physical address. "Keep the mug please. Drinking from a plastic mug seems so uncivilized to me. That's one of my goals to accomplish here, to bring a few more of those things to Home, that make life a little more enjoyable and comfortable. You're probably station born aren't you?" he inquired.
"Yes, but I've been Earthside to Australia and Hawaii and I go frequently to other stations. In fact I make ISSII and New Las Vegas at least monthly." She stopped and smelled the coffee carefully and took a long sip.
"Well? What do you think? Is that better than what you get in the cafeteria?" His face said he knew it was much better. The cafeteria coffee was from liquid concentrate and had a bit of a bite, almost a French Roast and cheap enough to offer the free refills everyone demanded.
"Oh yes. It's much better than the food service. I'm sure you'll sell a lot of it. Is it what you would call your house blend?"
"That's a fair description," he agreed, looking disappointed she didn't praise it more. "Are you a connoisseur of coffees?" he inquired, with perhaps a little skepticism.
"I have a friend Sylvia Anderson who invites me to dinner occasionally. I'm afraid she has spoiled me, by exposing
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