I was taken aback. Marvellous adventures? Famous crew? What happened to my resolution of keeping a low profile, flying under the radar of the authorities? It seemed I failed on more planes than just the financial one. The times were hard for small freighters like mine. Perhaps I should try to make money from telling our adventures instead of running cargo for a bargain. The thoughts buzzing through my brain cells made it an effort to keep a professional attitude.

I took off my mask. A risk, but according to the GORP, the Guide to the Obscure Rim Planets, the best way to gain the tyrinan's respect. "Please tell her highness I'm surprised she is informed about our humble endeavours. It's an honour to serve her." A tentative breath confirmed the reading of my belt-scanner. The air was foul but not dangerous.

Ben followed my example, doing a great job of supporting me. Nothing like a pair of moist human eyes and the sheer innocence of a soft, well-rounded body to gain trust. Not a single claw, sharp tooth, or venomous spike visible. I was glad humans display their aggressive nature mostly on a verbal level, and Ben was the quiet type.

The speaker conversed with the matron while Salincha and her companion glided away in silence. I studied the luminous baby-slugs painting colourful, glistening trails onto the ceiling. They moved at an amazing speed, and hundreds populated the dome. Were they connected by a hive-mind?

The speaker's voice tore me out of my musings. "Tanencha would like to ask for the favour of shipping a box to the colony on Sqia'lon seven."

I raked my brains for information about the destination, sure I'd heard the name before. But the context eluded me. Sqia was a system smack on the blurry border between the influence spheres of the Alliance of Independent Planets, the AIP, and the SU, the Sentient Union. It had been a while since we passed that region, but it wasn't off the map either. I shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Excellent. The case isn't huge, so you might add other freight to make the trip worth your while."

I nodded despite my doubts. It wasn't exactly the Silk Road we were talking about. "We will do our best to deliver your assignment in due time."

"Time is of the essence, I fear." The eyestalks of the Tanencha's speaker quivered, and I wondered if this was their way to emphasise the spoken words. "Also, Tanencha would appreciate if you'd prevent the severills from getting their hands on the cargo."

My tongue burnt in my throat. The name of those scums did that to me. I had a long history with the gang of space pirates called the severills. Not a happy one.

Ben cleared his throat and kicked in. "No need to worry. We have no dealings with the severills." Well, we did, but that wasn't for our potential customers to know. Good thing the human had anticipated my flare of anger. As always, his melodic voice did a huge deal to dissolve my tension. I suppressed the comment I had been about to voice, happy to let him take the lead. Nothing to gain by alienating the aliens. I clicked my gills in agreement. Ben took the cue. "What's the nature of the cargo?"

If the boy kept this up, he might get more out of the deal than I could. The speaker's eyes wandered from Ben to me and back. "We cannot disclose this information. Please consider it a secret."

All my inner alarm bells clamoured for attention. Unfortunately, we had no choice. Ben shot me a glance, and I closed and reopened my gills, aware he would understand. "Fine. But we need to know at least the dimensions of the load. Also, what's in it for us?"

The speaker's eyestalks went out of sync and wobbled in confusion. I enjoyed our little victory. Hive minds often underestimate nonverbal communication between individuals of different species. But the tyrinan adjusted fast. "The size, a single crate of roughly these dimensions." Four tentacles outlined a box of two-by-two. "The price, a standard load to the Sqia system, plus a full bonus for delivery within the week." The left eyestalks fixed on Ben now, the right on me. Impressive. "Payable upon delivery."

I shrugged. The latter was a normal arrangement. Not that I liked it, but we were in a tight spot. The bonus would be a plus. Ben scratched his ear, playing his role to perfection. "Right. Do we get any assurances?"

"There are none. Is this a problem?"

Yes, it was, and no, I wouldn't voice my concerns, and neither would Ben. 'Take it or leave it' is a concept ingrained in the minds of any old hand in the semi-legal trade along the rim. Leaving was out of the question—this time.

"Fine." Ben's nod sealed the deal. "We're off as soon as you deliver the cargo to our ship."

This left me to wrap up the conversation with a few pleasantries. I bowed, just the fraction signalling respect but not submission, and addressed the elder-mother directly. "A pleasure to work for you, Tanencha sy Tyrin."

I wondered if the swivelling eyestalks expressed disdain or benevolence, but decided it was a riddle to solve another time. Better to slip on my mask and move out of here. There's a limit to the amount of stench and slime a semi-aquatic can take. A glance at Ben told me he was more than happy with my decision.

We braved the challenge of climbing the spiral ramp back to the surface in mutual silence, no doubt closely watched by the residents. I couldn't help imagine they laughed their guts out at our struggle.

Back on the street, I called the ship by wrist-com. Hrrovr responded without delay. "Captain? Are you fine?"

"Yes, happy as a shooting star." I grinned, relieved to be out of the tunnels. "Got a deal and on our way back to the ship, now."

"Glad to hear. We loss'st track of your life ss'signals'ss there for a moment." Hrrovr's hiss was more pronounced than usual. He was showing nerves.

I felt sorry for my friend. "We'll be with you soon, Number one. Prepare for the cargo to be delivered and initiate the starting sequence as soon as it arrives."

"Aye, Captain. I won't mind leaving this'ss ss'slime heap." Hrrovr wasn't fond of planets, but it was unlike his serene self to voice his misgivings over comm.

"Hrrovr, can you give us a direction to the landing site? Impossible to locate it in this fog."

"Two ticks'ss to the left from your current direction. I'll tell you when you ss'stray."

"Great." I quickened my steps, eager to get back to the Topsy-Turvy and ride away on a blast of her plasma engines. Ben seemed to be in the same boat. He kept up, and we hurried on in silence.

A hot breeze stirred the fog, and for a moment, the silhouette of our ship became visible, squatting on the landing pad. The rate of my double-heart slowed. Nothing like the sight of home to cheer a spacer. A few bulky mega-freighters dwarfed the Topsy's characteristic, flattened pear-shape. But I was confident she could outrun most of these newer models without breaking a sweat.

I grinned at my companion, relieved the end of our planetary ordeal was near. "That was well played, there, with the Tanencha."

"Thanks." Ben adjusted his mask and threw a look back over his shoulder. "I was glad my guts were already empty when we came to that chamber. Have you seen all the slugs? Ugh."

I had, and I knew where he was coming from. "Could render a seasoned spacer alien-o-phobic. Still, I'm glad we got the job."

"Yeah. But I'll sleep better when we've put a few parsecs between the Topsy and all mollusc life forms." I was ready for a jibe about his use of an outdated terrestrial measure but closed my mouth when I saw the shaggy figures huddled in front of our ship. Ben followed my gaze, and his hand wandered to the blaster on his hip.

"Shh. We don't want trouble," I hissed. But my fingers ached for the grip of my weapon while we moved on. Upright posture, bipedal, not natives, the lot of them.
Ben's squinted eyes above the mask studied the aliens.

When we approached, he gasped, and his steps faltered. I tried to figure out the cause of his reaction. The people wore masks; their slime-covered working clothes and heavy boots declared them contract workers. Every port along the rim gets them, the flotsam of the sentient species, homeless by choice, working for a chance to hop to the next planet or station.

This particular group stood out by the fact they weren't the usual mix of species. To the contrary, they resembled each other like clones. Out of experience, I knew they weren't. But it's a real pain for other species to tell the soft, pastel to brownish-coloured features of humans apart, even in plain daylight. Ben laid a hand on my arm. "They are... well, they were called gipsies, way back."

"Um. Human sub-species?"

"Not exactly. It's... complicated. They were nomads, outcasts, mostly, travellers." He shrugged. I couldn't read his face beneath the mask. Was he apologetic? Frightened?

"Looks like they delivered our cargo, no need to worry." It's part of the captain's job to spread optimism. Even if the captain is spooked and longs for a shower to dissolve the tension together with the alien slime.

One worker stepped up and scrutinised me from beneath uneven bangs. "Are you Kalina ap'Theron?"

"Aye. Can I help you?" I studied the woman. Dozens of thin black braids streaked with white spilt from under a purple headscarf. Large golden earrings seemed out of place with the high-tech breathing mask. Two elegant eyebrows arched.

"Wrong question, wanderer. Can we help you? But no, probably not. We brought your cargo, your lizard officer signed the papers. All in order, all decisions made. What remains is to wish you a safe flight." She turned to Ben and switched to human speech, unaware I understood. "The ship be cursed, lad; ye'll no return."

I scoffed at the hag and continued aboard. Ben hesitated a moment, but took my cue and kept his mouth shut. His heavy steps followed mine up the ramp, and I exhaled a breath I hadn't known I was holding when the hatch closed behind us.

"Ben? Are you all right?"

"Aye, Captain. It's just... the woman. Do you think she's right?"

"About what? The curse?" I discarded my mask and called the bridge while I stripped out of the contaminated suit. "I hear the cargo is on board, Number one?"

"Affirmative, Captain. Hijac confirms'ss it's'ss ss'stowed and ready for takeoff."

"Great. On my way to the bridge. Aalyxh, plot a course for the Saragossa Nebula." I turned to Ben. "Whatever her curse, it stays on Tyrin, together with the slime. Forget it and kick those engines of yours into working mode. We have a cargo to deliver."

(1883 words)