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Nevelen
    Darragh, and I will consider the problem. I must, however, point out that it will probably be a waste of your money: in all but the most exceptional circumstances, the captain has the ultimate say in what occurs on her vessel, whether it be fishing ketch or starship.”
    Nothing had prepared Tocohl for the professional Darragh. The transformation reminded her of the first time she had seen a Bluesippan dress dagger drawn, the sudden startling realization that the dagger was fully practical. The judge was layered steel, glittering and razor-sharp.
    Tocohl was impressed.
    The two Sheveschkemen were equally impressed and more than a little unnerved. They made hasty
    private consultation. When they turned the sound on once again, the man said, “It is, after all, the captain’s privilege. If she wishes to lose income…” He shrugged and went on,
    “Will she agree to carry a letter for us?”
    “Of course,” said Tocohl instantly. There she had no choice. Automated message capsules were expensive, so the only reasonably priced interstellar communication was through traders. Mail was always accepted.
    And the refusal of mail could cause a judgment that would most certainly detain Tocohl and might well go against her.
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    Perhaps that was what the Sheveschkemen had in mind. At any rate, he seemed disappointed at her agreement, but said, “We’ll send it up on shuttle.”
    “Make it soon. We leave within the hour.”
    The image vanished.
    Nevelen Darragh said, “I wouldn’t wait, Tocohl.”
    “I wasn’t planning to,” Tocohl said with a smile. “Thanks, though.”
    Nevelen clapped Alfvaen on the shoulder, turned to Geremy and said, “Come on, we’re wasting valuable festival time!”
    They walked to the hatch, where Geremy wrapped Tocohl in a farewell bear hug. “Say hello to Bayd and Si for me, will you?” Tocohl said into his shoulder. “Tell them I’m sorry I missed them and I’ll see them next year for sure.” She tucked a tape into his equipment pouch and patted it as she stepped back.
    “Tape for them. See they get it.”
    “I will.”
    Nevelen Darragh looked on, then fixed her piercing blue eyes on Tocohl one last time and Tocohl again sensed the steel behind them. “One question, Tocohl.”
    “Question, yes. Answer? Ask and we’ll see.”
    Darragh laughed but her eyes did not change. “Why did you take farm equipment to Solomon’s
    Seal?”
    At that, Tocohl laughed. “Because that was what they needed.”
    “That’s the answer I expected. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.” She gave a Hellspark two-finger salute and hustled Geremy through the port.
    The inner hatch closed, and Tocohl led Tinling Alfvaen forward to ship’s control.

Chapter Three
T
    HE SHIP’S CONTROL was a spacious room bright with telltales and—because it also served as captain’s quarters—tapestries, a hammock, a jumble of paintings, and Tocohl’s small but treasured collection of hardbooks.
    (Hop to, Maggy,) said Tocohl, (let’s program that jump—) (I have a message from Geremy.)
    Settling herself at the control console, Tocohl said, (Tell me.) Maggy complied in Geremy’s own voice: (Tocohl, I’m not the one who told Darragh about
    Solomon’s Seal. I swear it.)
    (Interesting,) Tocohl commented.
    When she said nothing more, Maggy said, (Geremy said good-bye to me, too.) (Shouldn’t he have?)
    (The judge didn’t.)
    (The judge was never introduced to you. I’m sorry, Maggy, I must be getting forgetful in my old age.)
    (You are only 103. If you are forgetful, it has nothing to do with old age.) (That was just an expression, Maggy.)
    Alfvaen took the seat Tocohl indicated, then glanced at Tocohl curiously and said, “I have no wish to intrude, nor to violate a Hellspark taboo, but you seem to be listening to something.
    Judge Darragh and
    Geremy often gave the same impression.”
    (This time I won’t forget, and you can practice your Siveyn, Maggy.) Tocohl tapped the spot just Page