Bechimo
En route
“There’s no possible need to stop at Edmonton Beacon,” Win Ton said. It was an all-crew meeting and his turn to speak, though Theo was surprised to hear him speaking so vehemently.
Apparently he was, too, because he sighed and pulled up a half-smile, while showing the table his empty palms.
“I should say, there is rarely need to stop at Edmonton Beacon. Perhaps a case can be made if we are to bring supplies to Tinsori Light. Are we?”
“That’s a good question,” Clarence said. “Not that I don’t agree that there’s better places to shop than Eddie. If Eddie’s what we got, though…”
Edmonton Beacon—Eddie to a certain file of spacer—rode the edge of the Dust. It had a reputation for casual lawlessness that made Theo’s fingers itch, but regular business could go forth, if expensively. Eddie was the largest of seven stations clustered together. Of the other six stations, one was administered by Liadens, so not a safe port for a ship affiliated with Tree-and-Dragon. Beacon Repair was just that, padded out with temp quarters, eateries and fun for those waiting on repairs. Redlight was an ongoing nonstop party. Tandik Feef was an outpost for mercenary soldiers; and the Greybar was what gave Eddie itself anything like a good reputation. The sixth station, though—
“There’s the House of Stars,” Theo said, “administered by the Carresens-Denoblis. Shouldn’t we be able to shop there?”
“You’d think so, but it’s not so much a retail situation as a safe port for the Denobli ships running in and out of the Dust,” Clarence said. “Eddie’s what you want, if supplies are the need.” He glanced at her. “Tinsori Light expecting us to be bringing them anything special?”
Theo sighed.
“You read Shan’s letter,” she said irritably. “We’re supposed to go to Tinsori Light and help out.”
“And we have been in the process of going,” Kara said.
And going, and going, and then going some more, Theo thought. Shan had said that Tinsori Light was “inconveniently” located, and she hadn’t paid proper attention to that. Bechimo had quite a collection of inconvenient locations, after all.
As Clarence put it, there was out-of-the-way, and hard-to-get-to, which weren’t necessarily the same thing. Tinsori Light had probably won a prize in hard-to-get-to, Theo thought sourly. Edmonton Beacon was its most proximate piece of civilization, and it wasn’t what you’d call close.
“Just because there was no mail at our last Jump-end—” Kara was continuing.
“Doesn’t mean there won’t be something at the next,” Theo finished with a half-grin. “You’re too sensible for us.”
“Often remarked the same,” Clarence said, stretching his legs comfortably out before him and leaning back in his chair.
“And if there’s no mail?” Theo asked.
“Is that your position?” Kara asked. “Then let us proceed to the stakes: If there is mail you will owe me a new bowli ball. What is your part?”
Theo blinked.
“So it’s a bet, now? That’s sensible.”
“Of course it is,” Kara replied. “Joyita, defend my character.”
“Your character needs no defense,” Joyita said from the table-side screen.
“Silver tongue.”
“Kara is very sensible,” Bechimo stated. “However, it must be pointed out that while there is an equal probability of receiving or not receiving mail at Jump-end, there is an additional factor: We may receive mail that does not clarify the situation.”
“That merely adds an edge of anticipation to the wager,” Kara said primly, and Clarence didn’t—quite—laugh.
Theo shook her head, and looked to the last two members of her crew, sitting side by side at the end of the table.
“Thoughts?” she asked.
“We can only obey the orders we receive,” Chernak said, and Stost moved a big hand, fingers shaping the pilot’s sign for “agree.”
“Right, then.” Theo stood up. “We’ll postpone the conversation of how we should proceed until we either do or do not receive mail that’s either useful or not useful at Jump-end.”
She made a show of glaring at Kara.
“Since this is a bet—I don’t think there will be any mail. And if I’m right you can bake me a batch of maize buttons.”
“Done,” Kara answered, and smiled.