Changeling by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller Page A

job in it." She looked
up. "It says he--the guy--will be back here second hour, Day Port,
and wants to talk to you."
    He took a breath, imposing
calmness. By name ?
And who on Casia would speak his name, saving these, his comrades,
Terrans, all. Ah. Christopher perhaps would ... understand
... Terran gentleman. How such a one might have the name of Ren Zel
dea'Judan was a mystery, but a mystery easily solved.
    He glanced at the clock over the schedule
board: last hour, Night Port, was half gone. Too little time to
return to his room, on the ragged edge of Mid Port. Too long to
simply wait on a bench in the hall...
    "'Bout enough time to have a bite to eat."
Suzan grinned and jerked her head toward the door.
    "There's a place couple streets down that
actually brews real coffee," she said. "C'mon, Pilot. My
treat."
    * * *
    COFFEE, REN ZEL thought, some little while
later, was clearly an acquired taste.
    The rest of the meal was unexceptional--even
enjoyable--in its oddness. The one blight was the lack of what
Suzan styled 'poorbellows'. An inquiry after this unknown and
absent foodstuff gained Ren Zel the information that poorbellows
were a kind of edible fungus, after which the coffee tasted not
quite as bitter as he had at first thought it.
    The meal done, Suzan drained her third cup
and went to the front to settle the bill, stubbornly refusing his
offer to pay for his share with a, "Told you it was my treat,
didn't I?"
    Ren Zel shrugged into his jacket and followed
her slowly. "Treat" was a Terran concept, roughly translating into
"a gift freely given," with no Balance attending. Still, it went
against his sense of propriety, that his co-pilot should give him a
gift. Perhaps he might search out some of these poorbellows
elsewhere on port and make her a gift in return? He considered it,
then found his thoughts drifting elsewhere, to the mysterious
"gentleman" whom he was, very soon now, to meet.
    That the "gentleman" was Terran seemed
certain. That he would, indeed, offer Ren Zel dea'Judan a
jump-pilot's contract, as Christopher seemed to think, was--not so
certain.
    But if the offer was made? Ren Zel wondered,
stepping out onto the walkway and slipping his hands in the pockets
of his jacket. If the unknown gentleman offered a standard jump
contract, with its guarantee of setting the pilot on the world of
his choice after the terms were fulfilled, then Ren Zel might yet
prosper, though in a solitary, Terran sort of way. If he chose his
port wisely, he--
    "There!" The unfamiliar voice disrupted his
thoughts, the single word in Liaden. He looked toward the sound,
and saw a gaggle of five standing half-way to the corner. All were
dressed in Low Port motley; four also wore the leather jackets of
jump-pilots.
    And not one of them, to Ren Zel's eye, was
anything like a pilot.
    The foremost, perhaps the one who had spoken,
bowed, slightly and with very real malice.
    "Dead man," he said with mock courtesy, "I am
delighted to find you so quickly. We are commissioned to deliver
you a gift."
    Yes--and all too likely the gift was a knife
set between his ribs, after which his jacket would become a prize
for the fifth in the pack.
    "All right, Pilot, let's get us back to hall
and see this mystery man of--" Suzan froze, the door to the
restaurant still balanced on the ends of her fingers, looking from
Ren Zel to the wolf pack.
    "Friends of yours?"
    He dared not take his eyes from the face of
the leader, who seemed dismayed by the advent of a second, much
larger, player in the game.
    "No," he told Suzan.
    "Right," she said, and pushed the door wider,
rocking back on her heel. "There's a back door. After you."
    Keeping his back to the wall, he slithered
past her, then followed as she sped through the main dining room,
down a short hallway and into the kitchen. She raised a hand to a
woman in a tall, white hat, and opened the door in the far wall. In
keeping with a co-pilot's duty, she stepped through first, then
waved him after.
    "OK. Down