business people, suspicious and unfriendly. There had been no buzz of civilized conversation in the dining area, as there had been on the earlier trip, but only the steady drone of a mediafeed reporting stale news, and the click of small computer touchboards from the other travelers. Herm had listened more from habit than from anything else, hoping to catch some clue as to what was occurring beyond the void in which they journeyed. There was nothing to suggest that anything monumental was occurring, and he had begun to wonder if he had made a stupid and expensive mistake. But on the third evening of their dull passage, he had caught a tidbit that set his nerves thrumming. There had been a sudden, seemingly inexplicable sell-off on the Intersystem Exchange, one of the large interplanetary stock markets.
Strange, he reflected. When he had been a boy, running wild in Aldaran Castle, he had never heard of a stock market, and when the term had first come up, had imagined pens of chervine and sheep. Even his father’s tame Terranan had never mentioned this particular institution. And yet, he discovered, these commercial enterprises were an uncanny bellwether of events, almost as if credits could see into the future before their owners did. He could have made himself very rich by combining his own Gift with the sense he got by watching the fluctuations of the exchanges. Instead, he had refined his understanding over the years, until he could extrapolate a great deal of useful information from something so apparently irrelevant as a sudden shift in gallium futures, or the crop failure on a minor planet.
Watching the feed scroll across the crystalline face of the monitor, he had a sure sense of the disruption in commerce that Nagy’s announcement would create. No one, including her Expansionist advisors, could predict the economic havoc they would wreak. He was sure someone in the know had leaked the word, in hopes of making a quick fortune, and his broker had begun something that would spread shock waves across the Federation. It might be months or even years before the extent of it was realized. That was good, as far as he was concerned, because if the Terrans were in economic crisis, they would not have time to bother with Darkover for a while.
His worst fears had not come to pass—he had not been arrested. But he had hardly slept during their passage, his ears on alert for a chime at the portal of the cabin, signaling disaster. Kate, frightened and furious with him, had been very silent, and the children had imitated her at first. Then boredom had set in, and they had started asking him questions about Darkover. That had helped to pass the dreary time, and even to ease his heightened senses a little. Upon their arrival at Vainwal, both Terése and Amaury had begged some credits to play at the many games of chance that stood everywhere in the port building. Vainwal was famous for its gambling and other leisurely pleasures, and he had handed each of the children enough money to keep them occupied while he sent word of his imminent arrival to Darkover. It had been a great relief to herd his small family onto another ship, and the last leg of their journey.
Herm tensed until his papers were examined. He was still on Federation territory, and subject to its laws, not Darkover’s. He had not made too many enemies during his years of service, but he was acutely aware that until he was actually off Federation soil, he could still be arrested, declared an enemy of the state, and carted off to one of several penal worlds to languish, without trial, forgotten, until he died. It had happened to more than one of his colleagues, enough of them to know that the reach of the Expansionist arm was nothing to be taken lightly.
The wind gusted as he crossed the division between the Federation and Darkover, causing his all-weather cloak to flap wildly around him. He paused to yank the useless garment down, and set Terése on the cobbled
Strange, he reflected. When he had been a boy, running wild in Aldaran Castle, he had never heard of a stock market, and when the term had first come up, had imagined pens of chervine and sheep. Even his father’s tame Terranan had never mentioned this particular institution. And yet, he discovered, these commercial enterprises were an uncanny bellwether of events, almost as if credits could see into the future before their owners did. He could have made himself very rich by combining his own Gift with the sense he got by watching the fluctuations of the exchanges. Instead, he had refined his understanding over the years, until he could extrapolate a great deal of useful information from something so apparently irrelevant as a sudden shift in gallium futures, or the crop failure on a minor planet.
Watching the feed scroll across the crystalline face of the monitor, he had a sure sense of the disruption in commerce that Nagy’s announcement would create. No one, including her Expansionist advisors, could predict the economic havoc they would wreak. He was sure someone in the know had leaked the word, in hopes of making a quick fortune, and his broker had begun something that would spread shock waves across the Federation. It might be months or even years before the extent of it was realized. That was good, as far as he was concerned, because if the Terrans were in economic crisis, they would not have time to bother with Darkover for a while.
His worst fears had not come to pass—he had not been arrested. But he had hardly slept during their passage, his ears on alert for a chime at the portal of the cabin, signaling disaster. Kate, frightened and furious with him, had been very silent, and the children had imitated her at first. Then boredom had set in, and they had started asking him questions about Darkover. That had helped to pass the dreary time, and even to ease his heightened senses a little. Upon their arrival at Vainwal, both Terése and Amaury had begged some credits to play at the many games of chance that stood everywhere in the port building. Vainwal was famous for its gambling and other leisurely pleasures, and he had handed each of the children enough money to keep them occupied while he sent word of his imminent arrival to Darkover. It had been a great relief to herd his small family onto another ship, and the last leg of their journey.
Herm tensed until his papers were examined. He was still on Federation territory, and subject to its laws, not Darkover’s. He had not made too many enemies during his years of service, but he was acutely aware that until he was actually off Federation soil, he could still be arrested, declared an enemy of the state, and carted off to one of several penal worlds to languish, without trial, forgotten, until he died. It had happened to more than one of his colleagues, enough of them to know that the reach of the Expansionist arm was nothing to be taken lightly.
The wind gusted as he crossed the division between the Federation and Darkover, causing his all-weather cloak to flap wildly around him. He paused to yank the useless garment down, and set Terése on the cobbled
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