In the end, it cost Hesperus four beers: the Cobra Rapier carried a co-pilot. All four of his rescuers were tall, thin humans, and they joined Hesperus in one of the low-gee bars near Qudira station’s core.
Hesperus did his best to be civil when he met them, but he was in a foul mood. Tulka’s agent – yet another human, a long bony female with a nose like the blade of an axe – had met the Profit in the docking bay, with bad news.
“Mr Tulka’s standing instructions are quite clear, Captain,” she had said. “The market here in Qudira has dropped from its peak; I cannot authorise you to unload the cargo in this system. The margins are unsuitable. No, you will have to return to the previous schedule. The goods must be taken onwards, to Te’en, as per Mr Tulka’s original intentions.”
“What? What? Have you any idea what we’ve been through, to get those triple-damned bloody dirt-scratchers here? We fought our way past legions of the worst kinds of vermin! We cast our lives upon the board and won through only by the very tips of our tails! Just look at my ship!” Hesperus jabbed his finger up towards the hull of the Dubious Profit looming above them. As ever, she looked as if she was on the brink of falling to pieces.
The agent didn’t even turn her head. “No doubt it is an inconvenience, Captain, but this shipment is bound for Te’en. If you wish to be paid you must carry it there. I am, however, permitted to offer you a small supp-lement to your fee. An additional two per cent, for your trouble.”
“Ten,” snapped Hesperus.
“Two.”
“Eight.”
“Two.”
“Er … five?”
“Two, Captain. Precisely two.”
“Two on top of the original deal, made with Mr Tulka personally? Including all bonuses, premiums and emoluments hitherto agreed?”
“An additional two per cent, Captain, that is the limit of my auth-ority. Mr Tulka, however, is a respectable businessman, and I have no doubt that he will honour all previous arrangements.”
Hesperus tugged at his whiskers in exasperation. What were the options? With an Ininish seal on the goods he couldn’t sell them to anyone but a mandated recipient: not legally, anyway, which meant not for anywhere near full price. Teen was almost halfway across the sector, a dozen jumps or more. Infuriating! He yanked his whiskers again. Not impossible, though. And the money was still good. A little better than before, in fact, if this hatchet-faced agent was telling the truth and Tulka didn’t try to weasel out of the extras on the deal. He closed his eyes, and fought down his bitter resentment.
“Very well. For a further additional two per cent, the Dubious Profit will carry Mr Tulka’s cargo on to Teen.” He let go of his whiskers before he pulled any of them out.
She sniffed. “I am glad to hear it. Also, I will need to inspect the merchandise, to ensure all is in order. The bill of lading, please.”
“Inspect the … we took on this cargo at Inines, you – madam,” said Hesperus through clenched teeth. “Is the work of an Ininish dock crew not up to your exacting standards?”
“The bill, please, Captain,” replied the agent, holding out a long and bony hand.
Hesperus tore the ident pad from his pocket and slammed it onto her palm. “There! I trust you will find everything is to your satisfaction!” He stepped to one side, and gave the tiniest nod of his head. “Now, if you will excuse me: I have other duties to attend to.” He turned his back on her and stalked across the docking bay towards the station’s internal transport system.