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Bechimo
Arriving


The Tree was visibly excited, its branches moving as if in a minor breeze, except the vent for this section was on the opposite wall, and wasn’t blowing right at the moment.

“I was,” Theo told it, “busy.”

The niggle at the back of her head somehow suggested that the Tree had also been busy, which of course it had, if it was anything like the really big Tree back on Surebleak, growing out of the garden in the center of Val Con’s house.

“I’m going to be debarking soon,” she said, that being the plan they’d come up with, all of them together. Stost and Chernak and her—they’d be the first points of contact with Tinsori Light, while crew remained on Bechimo, safe—or safer—in case anything went wrong.

As a plan, it didn’t perfectly match even Bechimo’s expanding definition of safe, but it was what they had. And, as Clarence had pointed out, the fact that they’d decided to take the master trader’s mission meant they had at least put a little bit of trust in the experts.

“What’s your business?” Theo asked the Tree.

Branches moved sharply, she heard a snap, and extended a hand by instinct, catching the pod before it hit the decking.

It was biggish, as Tree-pods went, and heavy, and it—didn’t smell right. At least, she didn’t have any wish to eat the thing, or any idea that it had anything to do with her. She did, however, have a pretty good idea who it did belong to.

She put the pod in her pocket.

“I’ll give it to him,” she told the Tree. “But I can’t make him eat it.”

She received the strong impression that this was perfectly fine, and a moment later another impression, equally strong, that she was free to go.

“Nice to see you, too,” she said, and went back the way she’d come.


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Framed