“Probably,” she agreed with no false show of pride; the simple fact was that she could. “I learn very quickly. What do you want me to do with it?”
“You said you wanted to work your passage.”
Her eyes lit up. “Definitely. There’s something you want done on the computer?”
“I’d like some advice from someone who’s had a good education. Presumably, since you were raised in Clementia, you’ve had the best.”
She smiled. “The best.”
FIVE
Fifteen minutes later Cidra shook off her intense concentration long enough to smile up at Severance as he hovered over her and the computer. She understood now what he wanted.
“This is your lucky day, Teague Severance. I told you I’m a trained archivist. I could just as easily have been a microgeologist or a professional poet. And then, while I might have been able to give you some general guidance or advice, I wouldn’t have been qualified to really dig in and program a first-class record-keeping system for you. But as it is . . .” She let the sentence drift off as she turned back to the computer.
“As it is,” Severance concluded, “this is my lucky day. I should have known. Wonder what I did to deserve having you on board?”
“There you go, being flippant again.”
“I think it’s more than flippancy,” Severance murmured. “I think at times I’m bordering on outright sarcasm. Postmen aren’t noted for their social graces.” He leaned closer, peering over her shoulder at the screen. “You really think you can get up some kind of workable records and business management program for me?”
“I’ve been designing and applying records management programs since the day I first set foot in the Archives.”
“Yeah, but the stuff you file and retrieve at Clementia is different. I’m not trying to figure out a way to handle a bunch of old slips filled with First Family diaries or middle-second-century poems. I need hard data I can call up on a second’s notice, and I’ll need it cross-indexed a hundred different ways. I figure that if my plan is going to work, I’ll have to be able to access everything from personnel information on company presidents to meteorological details on QED.”
“I thought the weather only came one way on QED: dry.”
Severance glared at her. “Now who’s being flippant?”
“I apologize.”
He ignored the formal, self-deprecating inclination of her head. “Weather on QED can be damned tricky when you’re trying to land a Class A mail ship in the mountains. In addition to that kind of stuff I’m going to need full payroll capabilities. That means I need to be able to zap credit into employee accounts from anywhere in the system.”
“Only the big exploration companies have payroll systems that flexible,” Cidra noted. “Just how big are you planning on becoming?”
He lifted one shoulder with seeming negligence, but Cidra saw the glittering determination in his eyes. “I want to build a real organization. Right now private mailmen like me operate on a haphazard basis. Each one of us functions independently with no set schedules. The competition can be cutthroat.”
“How cutthroat?”
“Pilots can get killed in this business.”
Cidra blinked. “You mean because of the dangers of landing on Renaissance or QED?”
“No, Cidra,” he said with patently false patience. “I mean, they can wind up dead because of the stiff competition.”
“Murdered?” She felt queasy. “I’ve heard of some criminal activity among the more aggressive pilots, of course, and occasionally one hears of a landing accident or some such incident, but murder?”
“I don’t imagine it makes the newscasts in Clementia. Harmonics probably prefer not to pay too close attention to Wolf news. It isn’t always intellectually stimulating.”
“You’ve got a point there.” She was beginning to feel mildly irked by his attitude. He was right, it did border on sarcasm. Stepped over the border, in fact. For the first time she wondered if Teague Severance didn’t number among the more aggressive in his business. She had just decided not to ask any more questions about the criminal behavior of mail pilots when a thought came to her. As usual she sought an answer without even stopping to consider the consequences. “Do you think those fake safeguards who came aboard at Lovelorn were from a rival mail ship?”
Severance lifted his dark brows. “It’s a possibility. It’s more likely that they were working for a rival of ExcellEx, though. I’m going to collect good credit for the delivery of those sensors, but I don’t think it’s enough to get killed over. The shipment has great value to an exploration company in competition with ExcellEx but not to another mailman. I’ve carried cargo that’s paid better than those sensors will.”
Cidra decided that she would not ask what that cargo had been. “All right, I think I understand the scope of what you want done. You’re going to go into the private post business in a big way. Hire other pilots to work for you. You want to create a computerized inventory system, a payroll system, a general information and retrieval system for business and scientific data, and a personnel file.”
“Those are the basics. I want to offer a professionally operated service, one companies and individuals can count on instead of having to take their chances with the schedules and the personalities of whatever independent postman happens to be in port at the moment.”
“Don’t the commercial freighters already offer that alternative?”
“They’re inflexible. The ships are limited to the biggest ports, and they don’t offer door-to-door delivery anywhere. And they aren’t willing to take risks for a single patron. The reasons the independents stay in business is because they make it a point of honor to do whatever it takes to deliver the mail. My goal is to maintain the versatility the independents offer but add the elements of reliability and dependability.”
“What are you going to call this empire?”
“The same thing I call it now. Severance Pay, Ltd.”
“That name doesn’t allow equal billing for any partners you might decide to take on in the future,” she pointed out.
He gave her a hard look. “I don’t plan to take on any partners. I had one once. Once was one time too many. Severance Pay Ltd. is all mine, and it’s going to stay all mine.”
Cidra smiled. “Another Wolf on the prowl.”
“Anything wrong with a little ambition?”
“Of course not. Our whole economy is based on ambition, although I don’t think your idea of ambition qualifies as ‘little.’“
“Stanza Nine is a big system, Cidra. Lots of room to operate for a man who’s willing to work hard.”
“And you’re willing to work as hard as it will take to build this kind of business?” She held up her hand. “No, forget I asked that. I can see the answer is yes. I do have one other question, though. Most of the systems you want designed from scratch could be purchased already set up and running. Why create your own?”
“I don’t want a system anyone else uses or understands. I need something tailored to the way I operate, something unique. I realize that for things like the payroll package I can use the fundamentals of a commercial design, but I’d rather start from the bottom. I can handle changes and modifications to the programs, and anyone with a decent education can program a Conny, but the basic design of a new system is something else. It takes a special kind of ability, a special way of thinking.”
“It takes someone who’s been thoroughly trained to think both logically and intuitively.” Cidra felt some of her earlier assurance slip away. “You’d be better off hiring a true Harmonic, Severance. This is the kind of thing they do so well:”
“It’s also the kind of thing for which they’d charge more credit than a miner could pull out of QED in a year. I can’t afford a true Harmonic, Cidra, but I seem to have someone on board who thinks she’s almost a Harmonic. Someone who says she wants to work for her passage. Give me two weeks’ worth of basic design work, Cidra, and we’ll cal
l it even.”
She gave him a knowing glance. “Typical fast-talking Wolf. It will be a little more than even if I give you what you want. You said yourself that this kind of design work costs. I’m not familiar with your postal rates, but I have the feeling that what you want would cost you a great deal more on the open market than the price of a passage to Renaissance.”
“Yeah, but this isn’t exactly an open market, is it? You’ve said you want to pay your way. This is what I need. It’s the only option I’m offering at the moment. Take it or leave it.”
Her head came up proudly. “I’ll take it, of course. I’ll do the best I can for you, Severance. You have my oath on it.”
“The oath of a true Harmonic is solid credit,” Severance mused. “But you’re not quite a true Harmonic, are you?”
Cidra fought back a rush of anger. She had spent her whole life learning to moderate her emotions. She would not let this Wolf upset the careful balance she worked so hard to maintain. “No, Otan Severance, I am not a true Harmonic. Until I am, you will have to trust me.”
“That’s asking a lot,” he drawled. “I make it a practice not to trust anyone completely.”
“I’m aware that among Wolves trust is always a grave risk.”
“I suppose you trust your friend Mercer in the Archives?”
“He’s a Harmonic,” Cidra reminded him calmly. “I trust him absolutely.”
“But you wouldn’t think of trusting a Wolf that way, would you?”
Was he deliberately goading her? Cidra turned back to the computer. “No more than you would. If I am to design the fundamental approaches of the systems you want, I had better get started. Two weeks is not very long for this kind of task.”
“Work hard, Cidra. I want my credit’s worth.”
Cidra bit back the retort that jumped into her mind. Taking firm hold of the intense concentration the Harmonic educational system had bred into her, she immersed herself in the monumental job Severance had assigned. It would take a lot more than two weeks to do it properly, but she was determined to give him as much as she could. She would not have any Wolf saying that she had tried to cheat him.
Severance worked beside her, describing his needs in detail and explaining the idiosyncrasies of the Consac Four-ten system. Their conversation became businesslike and efficient, but by the time Cidra was ready to break for a meal, she had a new image of Teague Severance. He was a man with a goal, and he was willing to do whatever it took to achieve it. A part of her understood him on that level. She had her own goals. But Cidra couldn’t help wondering what Severance would be like by the time he had built his dream. His ambitions were the sort that gave free license to a Wolf’s most competitive, combative instincts. The worlds of Stanza Nine provided the kind of anything-goes, make-it-anyway-you-can atmosphere that encouraged people such as Severance. But an unrestrained Wolf was a dangerous creature.
Only after they had eaten what corresponded to the evening meal did Severance again bring up the idea of teaching Cidra to play Free Market. She had secretly hoped he might forget the whole thing. Games rarely interested her. But she forced herself to agree politely. Perhaps accommodating him would insure that his mood remained stable. There had been occasions during the short time she had known him that she had wondered about the reliability of his temperament.
He had been gentle with her when she was recovering from the effects of the Screamer, but he had also been inclined to goad her into responses that would have been impolite and angry. She didn’t understand him all that well, which was only to be expected under the circumstances. No one raised in Clementia could always predict the behavior of a Wolf. Wolves weren’t very good at explaining themselves. But Cidra sensed a restlessness in Severance that worried her. She didn’t want to do anything that would make him snap.
So she reluctantly agreed to learn Free Market.
Severance first poured two full-size mugs of the Renaissance Rose ale he seemed to enjoy so much. Then he set out the markers, the sardite chips, and the three-dimensional playing field that constituted the game of Free Market. Cidra watched the process with a tinge of wary curiosity. She sensed a carefully leashed anticipation in her teacher. His was not going to be the formal, patient style of instruction to which she was accustomed.
“Think of this as broadening your education,” Severance said blandly as he straddled the stool across from Cidra. He absently shook the handful of numbered cubes he was holding in his left fist. The small table they used for eating had been set up with the field and playing pieces. “Harmonics are very big on broadening their educations, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” She watched as he tossed the cubes onto the top level of the playing field. “But games don’t generally interest us . . . them.”
He smiled, again showing ominously white teeth. “That’s probably because they don’t believe in gambling.”
“It’s not a question of not believing in it. More a matter of simply not finding it very interesting or pleasant.”
“Cidra, my sweet little would-be Harmonic, you’ve missed something along the way.” He leaned forward. “Now pay attention. I’d just as soon not have to explain anything twice.” He pushed half the sardite chips over to her side of the table. “The goal here is to take every last sardite your opponent has.”
She picked up one of the dull green chips. “I don’t see why. Sardite is neither particularly beautiful nor useful. It’s also extremely common.”
“Don’t give me the innocent-as-a-Saint bit. In a real game each chip represents whatever your opponent is actually wagering, and you know it. Here, count the cubes and check the numbers on each.”
“Why?” She removed them from the top level of the playing field and obediently counted them. Then she added up the numbers on each cube.
“Because it’s one way you make certain your opponent isn’t trying to cheat you.”
“I imagine that’s an important consideration in a game between Wolves.”
Severance’s hand closed over the cubes she had just counted. “A very important consideration.”
“I won’t cheat you, Severance,” Cidra promised, offended by the way he was now making a show of counting the cubes himself.
He didn’t bother looking up as he checked each cube. “You better believe you won’t.” He tossed the cubes back onto the field. “All right, let’s get started.”
He was right about one thing, Cidra decided twenty minutes later: He certainly didn’t believe in explaining things twice. She was fortunate she was such an adept learner, for her new mentor was not long on patience. Too many years alone in the confines of a mail ship, together with very little grounding in the rules of etiquette and ritual, Cidra concluded.
By the time Severance had run through an explanation of the basic playing strategy of Free Market, she was still wondering why anyone bothered to play the game. The process of tossing cubes, tabulating the results, and shuffling the playing pieces down through the various levels of the playing field seemed innately dull. There appeared to be an almost endless number of rules, none of which were written down anywhere. So many rules, in fact, that it occurred to Cidra that a few could be added or deleted, and a novice player would never know the difference. No wonder Wolves had to worry about protecting themselves from being cheated. There was skill involved, but winning seemed basically dependent on a combination of luck and the ability to outguess or outbluff one’s opponent.
At the end of the basic lesson Severance insisted that they start a game.
Cidra was doubtful. “I’m not sure I’ve memorized all the rules.”
“You’ll pick them up as you go along. Easiest way to learn is to play. Take the cubes.” He lounged back against the bulkhead, every inch of his long body giving the appearance of a casual, relaxed player about to begin a friendly game.
Thoughtfully Cidra launched the cubes on the field, resolved to do her social duty and play. With any luck she would lose her chips quickly and the ga
me would be over.
As it turned out, she did lose her chips in a very steady, rapid stream. A little too rapid, Cidra decided a short time later as she frowned at the pile in front of Severance.
Severance caught the frown and asked smoothly, “Want to try it again?”
“Perhaps once more. I’m still not certain I have all the rules straight. And there are certain elements of the strategy that I don’t fully understand.” She reached out to take back half the sardite chips.
“You did fairly well for a beginner.” He watched her pile the sardite into neat little stacks. An odd smile hovered at the edge of his mouth.
At least he seemed to be in a good mood now, Cidra thought as she carefully counted the cubes. It was worth playing the game if it kept Severance in a mellow frame of mind. Fred appeared to be enjoying the spate of good temper also. He was lazily draped over his master’s shoulder, proving himself to be as good at sprawling as Severance himself. There was no sign of the small button eyes or the teeth. Cidra had long since decided that both Fred and Severance were more comfortable to be around when their teeth weren’t showing.
She dropped the cubes into the chute and picked up her playing pieces. Brows drawn together intently, she studied the numbers on the cubes.
The sardite chips disappeared from her side of the table a little more slowly this time, but they disappeared just the same. The ale in Severance’s mug vanished relentlessly too. Cidra tried a sip of hers and found the potent brew more interesting than she had expected. She didn’t try any more, aware that she needed her full attention to be on the game, but her opponent didn’t appear to have any similar concerns. Severance seemed blessed with an endless capacity for Renaissance Rose ale. A very small, unexpectedly churlish part of Cidra hoped at one point that the famous backlash effect of the strong ale would go to work on Severance’s playing ability. But the thorn stayed hidden, and Cidra was left feeling ashamed of her unethical thoughts. As if in punishment, she promptly lost the last of her sardite chips.