“Is that wise?” I looked up from the infopad sharply. “That would require ducking out of the Dracorte system, and we just saw that the Treznor-Nirmana family is not what could be described as friendly. We also have the deadline of the conference that we’re already cutting too close for comfort. Besides, I’ll cover the value of the Shadow.”
“Perhaps the captain feels that hedging her bets financially is a wise idea,” Basra replied, “and the Shadow market is about to spike, so it’s an opportune time to sell. Regardless, you can’t manufacture fuel, we need repairs, and it’s easier to be lost in a crowd than as a single ship at a remote station. This is one of the busiest trading ports in the galaxy. We’ll be in and out.”
I tapped my fingers on the table. He wasn’t wrong on any of those counts, but I felt safer knowing we were within the boundaries of what was considered my family’s dominion, even if our control over it had grown a little more…lax around the edges.
Something else nagged at my attention. “Wait, how do you know the Shadow market is about to spike?” That was news to me, and my family essentially dominated the Shadow market.
“I keep myself well informed,” Basra said shortly.
He did spend half the day sequestered by himself at his comm station. But still…
“So do I, and I have access to the most priority-level feeds in the system.” I hesitated, wondering how I should broach the question, especially since his face had gone blanker than usual. I went for the direct approach, hoping to catch him off balance. “What in the Unifier’s good name are you doing on this ship, Basra? Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, be running a major corporation somewhere more important?”
He shrugged his slightly slouched shoulders, unflappable. “I don’t suppose you’ll accept my usual answer?”
“If it’s acceptable to morons, then no.” I smiled thinly. “I’m not a moron.”
“I gathered. I also know that if I choose to ignore the question, you’ll pry into my business in an irritating fashion.” He sighed as if already irritated. “Maybe—I’m saying nothing for certain—this isn’t my only means of employment. And perhaps this other position requires me to lay low.”
He probably traded for very powerful people, in addition to trading for Qole on the side. He just used the Kaitan as his base of operations.
I dropped my voice. “None of this outside business you might do could jeopardize Qole’s or the crew’s safety, correct? Merely curious.”
Basra smiled, but it didn’t reach eyes that had become as cold as knives. I’d crossed a line. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response. Suffice it to say, I cover my trail better than anyone you will ever meet in your life…certainly far better than you, Your Highness.” His face smoothed. “Now, will you be joining me on Nirmana?”
I wasn’t going to gain another step in this line of inquiry, and I was somewhat satisfied, anyway. For now. “All right,” I said agreeably. “When do we arrive?”
“Shortly after we eat your meal, I imagine.” Basra glanced again at the dish, upon which a lingering bubble burst. He turned and left.
“No need to be so excited,” I called after him.
—
“What did you do?” Eton stared, aghast, at the food I slipped through to him via a smaller airlock that would have normally been for transferring tools to anyone working in zero-g.
I pursed my lips thoughtfully. “You know, I’m not entirely sure where it all went wrong. Does the applicator normally make it bubble so much? I think that’s where things started going downhill.”
Eton grimaced. “You touched the applicator? Please tell me you cleaned it. If the fumes from this harden…” He took a dainty bite with the tips of his teeth, an entirely incongruous sight on the giant man. “Yech. Ick. Ugh, you followed the instructions, didn’t you?”
“What do you mean? You’re not supposed to?”
“Of course not, you idiot.”
I blew out an exasperated breath. “You did train at the Academy, didn’t you? It’s nothing but reading old combat manuals and then having Devrak tell you to ignore them.”
I couldn’t help myself. I was on a roll after Basra, and this was an especially convenient time to prod Eton since there were shatterproof windows and doors separating me from his fists. Something about him jostled my memory, and I wanted to see if I could find out what it was.
His face turned to stone behind the window, and he glanced down at Arjan, where he lay curled on the floor of the airlock, presumably sleeping. “You don’t know anything about me, you royal waste of space.”
I lowered my voice. “I do know you’re from Dracorva, or at least spent a fair amount of time in the Academy studying under Devrak. He’s head of my family’s security now, did you know that?”
“Good for him, whoever he is,” Eton said tightly. He wasn’t as good at lying as he was at navigating incomprehensible recipes, nor as good at schooling his own face as he was at punching people in theirs. There was a curious mix of respect and grimness in his eyes at the mention of Devrak’s name.
I made my tone thoughtful. “Yes, but security is a tough business. Never know who you can trust.”
Eton spoke through gritted teeth. “Oh, I know exactly who I can trust. And it’s not royals.” He shot me a molten glare. “You’re far more of a danger to everyone on this ship than I could ever be.”
At least he didn’t respond to my insinuation with threats of death or dismemberment. And, most importantly, he was telling the truth this time—his past wouldn’t be a problem. As with Basra, it was enough to satisfy my curiosity for the moment.
“It’s all just a misunderstanding, I guess. So is this recipe, apparently,” I added in a more normal tone. “If you could give me a clue as to where I went wrong…”
Eton looked torn for a moment, but the temptation was too great. He cleared his throat. “Sure, sure…” He suddenly leaned toward the glass and dropped his voice again. “But if you tell Qole any of this, I’ll repeat a few things about your family that will never let her look at you in the same way again.” He leaned back, smiling in satisfaction, and said, “Tantios cookbook, right?”
I nodded, feeling vaguely unsettled. My family wasn’t perfect, of course, but they were principled, upheld the law, and always tried to live up to our ideals. What could he mean? Nothing, no doubt. He was just trying to use leverage he didn’t have against what I did have. It was leverage that he’d given me, because he’d practically admitted in his own words that I was right about where he was from, and that he didn’t want anyone else to know.
“You can’t follow any of the directions in the Tantios cookbooks; their measurements are all…” Eton stopped midsentence, his face growing sober as he looked over my shoulder.
Qole was there, looking calm and serious. “No, you’re supposed to follow instructions. Or, how about orders? What do you say, Eton?”
He didn’t answer at first, but Arjan, instantly awoken by the sound of her voice, popped up beside him. “Qole, I’m so sorry. Look—”