galaxy, the low amount of Quadrail traffic at Yandro meant the shuttles worked on an on-demand basis instead of running a continual loop between Tube and transfer station. Here, apparently, demand was so low that the shuttles weren’t even left on standby. As a result, it was over two hours before we finally stood at the transfer station’s Customs counter, dutifully answering the standard entry questions, and having ourselves and our luggage scanned for contraband.
I still didn’t know how my kwi looked on a Customs scanner. As long as no one challenged it, I wasn’t inclined to ask.
“And that’s it,” the Customs official said briskly as he handed me my lockbox, the final step in the entry procedure. “Welcome to New Tigris. Are you here on business or pleasure?”
“Pleasure,” I said. “A friend told us that Janga’s Point has some of the best scuba diving in the Confederation. We thought we’d try it out.”
“Excellent,” he said, his eyes lighting up. Not only visitors to his modest little colony system, but visitors intent on spending money. “I’ve heard that, too, though I’ve never had a chance to go there. Now, you do understand that we have only a weekly torchferry service to New Tigris proper, correct?”
“Yes, we know,” I said. Briefly, I wondered how many visitors arrived here expecting the daily service enjoyed by real planetary systems. “According to the schedule we saw, it’ll arrive in two and a half days?”
“That’s correct,” he said. “We do have torchyachts for rent, though, if you don’t want to wait.”
“That’s all right,” I said. New Tigris’s torchferry service was heavily subsidized by the mother world. Torchyacht rentals, unfortunately, weren’t. “I assume you have rooms available while we wait?”
“Absolutely,” he assured me, pulling out a registration form. “In fact, at the moment we only have one other guest.”
“Human?” I asked, snagging a pen from the cup beside the computer terminal.
“A Pirk, actually,” the clerk said.
My hand froze midway through writing my name. “A Pirk?” I echoed cautiously.
“Yes, but don’t let that worry you.” He glanced around and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “This one is actually safe to stand downwind of, if you get my drift.”
“Right,” I growled.
“No, really—he doesn’t smell at all,” the clerk insisted. “Damnedest thing. Kind of like when my sister found the one cat in the entire Western Alliance that didn’t trigger an instant asthma attack—”
“Yes, very interesting,” I interrupted, laying down the pen. “On second thought, I think we’ll take that torchyacht after all.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, taking the half-completed form from me and blanking it. “He really doesn’t smell, you know.”
“And I’m sure your sister wouldn’t mind being locked in a room with a bunch of cats, either,” I said. “You have a rental form?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, pulling out another form and handing it over.
I glanced at Bayta, noting the stony look on her face, and started filling in the blanks.
An hour later, sitting at the controls of our new torchyacht, I maneuvered us away from the transfer station and turned us toward New Tigris. “I’d been wondering where our Pirk had ended up,” I commented as I eased the drive up to full power.
“Now we know,” Bayta said, her voice as stony as her expression. “I hope you’re not expecting the Spiders to pay for this.”
“Why not?” I asked. “Our agreement was salary and expenses. This is an expense.”
“We could have waited for the torchferry,” she pointed out. “If this girl Rebekah has been all right all this time, another two and a half days probably wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“Though at some point in every crisis a matter of hours or minutes does make a difference,” I pointed out. “But that’s not the reason I opted for the torchyacht. Or hadn’t it occurred to you
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