Read Online Trading in Futures by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Steve Miller, Sharon Lee and Steve Miller
Ads: Link
and
wondering what the down-side of the trade was.
"While refit's doing, we
figured--the Captain and me--that it'd be optimum to re-structure
crew. So, we've signed you as Senior 'prentice with Gold Digger ."
It was said so smoothly that Jethri didn't
quite get the sense of it.
" Gold Digger ?" he repeated blankly,
that much having gotten through, by reason of him and Mac Gold
having traded blows on last sighting--more to Jethri's discomfort
than Mac's. He came forward in his chair, hearing the rest of it
play back inside the whorlings of his ears.
"You've signed me
onto Gold Digger ?"
he demanded. "For how long?"
Paitor raised a hand. "Ease
down, boy. One loop through the mines. Time they're back in port,
you'll be twenty--full adult and able to find your own berth." He
nodded. "You make yourself useful like you and me both know you can
and you'll come off Digger a full trader with experience under your
belt--"
"Three Standards ?" Jethri's voice broke, but
for once he didn't cringe in shame. He was too busy thinking about
a converted ore ship smaller than the Market , its purely male crew crammed
all six into a common sleeping room, and the trade nothing more
than foodstuffs and ore, ore and mining tools, oxy tanks and
ore...
"Ore," he said, staring at
his uncle. "Not even rough gem. Industrial
ore ." He took a breath, knowing his dismay
showed and not caring about that, either. "Uncle Paitor, I've been
studying. If there's something else I--"
Paitor showed him palm again. "Nothing to do
with your studying. You been doing real good. I'll tell you--better
than the Captain supposed you would. Little more interested in the
Liaden side of things than I thought reasonable, there at first. No
harm in learning how to read the lingo, though, and I will say the
Liadens seem to take positive note of you." He shook his head.
"Course, you don't have your full growth yet, which puts you nearer
their level."
Liadens were a short, slight people,
measured against Terran averages. Jethri wasn't as short as a
Liaden, but he was, he thought bitterly, a damn sight shorter than
Mac Gold.
"What it is," Paitor said slowly. "We're out
of room. It's hard for us, too, Jethri. If we were a bigger ship,
we'd keep you on. But you're youngest, none of the others're
inclined to change berth, and, well--Ship's Option. Captain's
cleared it. Ben Gold states himself willing to have you." He leaned
back, looking stern. "And ore needs study, too, 'prentice.
Nothing's as simple as it looks."
Thrown
off , thought Jethri. I'm being thrown off of my ship ! He
thought that he could have borne it better, if he was simply being
cast out to make his own way. But the arranged berth on Gold Digger added an edge
of fury to his disbelief. He opened his mouth to protest further
and was forestalled by a ping ! from Paitor's
terminal.
The Senior Trader snapped forward in his
chair, flipping the switch that accepted the first of the trade
feeds from Ynsolt'i Port. He glanced over at Jethri.
"You get me a cantra for that silk,
now."
That was dismissal. Jethri stood. "Yessir,"
he said, calm as a dry mouth would let him, and left the trade
room.
Ynsolt'i Port
Textile Hall
"PREMIUM GRADE, honored sir," Jethri
murmured, keeping his eyes modestly lowered, as befit a young
person in discourse with a person of lineage and honor.
Honored Sir din'Flora moved his shoulders
and flipped an edge of the fabric up, frowning at the underweave.
Jethri ground his teeth against an impulse to add more in praise of
the hand-loomed Gindoree cellosilk.
Don't
oversell ! he could hear Uncle Paitor snap
from memory.
The trader is in control of the trade.
"Half-a-cantra the six-bolt," the buyer
stated, tossing the sample cloth back across the spindle. Jethri
sighed gently and spread his hands.
"The honored buyer is, of course,
distrustful of goods offered by one so many years his inferior in
wisdom. I assure you that I am instructed by an elder of my ship,
who bade me accept
wondering what the down-side of the trade was.
"While refit's doing, we
figured--the Captain and me--that it'd be optimum to re-structure
crew. So, we've signed you as Senior 'prentice with Gold Digger ."
It was said so smoothly that Jethri didn't
quite get the sense of it.
" Gold Digger ?" he repeated blankly,
that much having gotten through, by reason of him and Mac Gold
having traded blows on last sighting--more to Jethri's discomfort
than Mac's. He came forward in his chair, hearing the rest of it
play back inside the whorlings of his ears.
"You've signed me
onto Gold Digger ?"
he demanded. "For how long?"
Paitor raised a hand. "Ease
down, boy. One loop through the mines. Time they're back in port,
you'll be twenty--full adult and able to find your own berth." He
nodded. "You make yourself useful like you and me both know you can
and you'll come off Digger a full trader with experience under your
belt--"
"Three Standards ?" Jethri's voice broke, but
for once he didn't cringe in shame. He was too busy thinking about
a converted ore ship smaller than the Market , its purely male crew crammed
all six into a common sleeping room, and the trade nothing more
than foodstuffs and ore, ore and mining tools, oxy tanks and
ore...
"Ore," he said, staring at
his uncle. "Not even rough gem. Industrial
ore ." He took a breath, knowing his dismay
showed and not caring about that, either. "Uncle Paitor, I've been
studying. If there's something else I--"
Paitor showed him palm again. "Nothing to do
with your studying. You been doing real good. I'll tell you--better
than the Captain supposed you would. Little more interested in the
Liaden side of things than I thought reasonable, there at first. No
harm in learning how to read the lingo, though, and I will say the
Liadens seem to take positive note of you." He shook his head.
"Course, you don't have your full growth yet, which puts you nearer
their level."
Liadens were a short, slight people,
measured against Terran averages. Jethri wasn't as short as a
Liaden, but he was, he thought bitterly, a damn sight shorter than
Mac Gold.
"What it is," Paitor said slowly. "We're out
of room. It's hard for us, too, Jethri. If we were a bigger ship,
we'd keep you on. But you're youngest, none of the others're
inclined to change berth, and, well--Ship's Option. Captain's
cleared it. Ben Gold states himself willing to have you." He leaned
back, looking stern. "And ore needs study, too, 'prentice.
Nothing's as simple as it looks."
Thrown
off , thought Jethri. I'm being thrown off of my ship ! He
thought that he could have borne it better, if he was simply being
cast out to make his own way. But the arranged berth on Gold Digger added an edge
of fury to his disbelief. He opened his mouth to protest further
and was forestalled by a ping ! from Paitor's
terminal.
The Senior Trader snapped forward in his
chair, flipping the switch that accepted the first of the trade
feeds from Ynsolt'i Port. He glanced over at Jethri.
"You get me a cantra for that silk,
now."
That was dismissal. Jethri stood. "Yessir,"
he said, calm as a dry mouth would let him, and left the trade
room.
Ynsolt'i Port
Textile Hall
"PREMIUM GRADE, honored sir," Jethri
murmured, keeping his eyes modestly lowered, as befit a young
person in discourse with a person of lineage and honor.
Honored Sir din'Flora moved his shoulders
and flipped an edge of the fabric up, frowning at the underweave.
Jethri ground his teeth against an impulse to add more in praise of
the hand-loomed Gindoree cellosilk.
Don't
oversell ! he could hear Uncle Paitor snap
from memory.
The trader is in control of the trade.
"Half-a-cantra the six-bolt," the buyer
stated, tossing the sample cloth back across the spindle. Jethri
sighed gently and spread his hands.
"The honored buyer is, of course,
distrustful of goods offered by one so many years his inferior in
wisdom. I assure you that I am instructed by an elder of my ship,
who bade me accept
Similar Books
