"Brine Batzer."

    Theo's hand moved on their own say again repeat.

     Arndy Slayn laughed.

    "It is an Eylot sounding name, isn't it? Brine Batzer; I can't say this behind the desk, but he's one of the most active of the cheap pod-breaking ship agents.  It's a wonder that he'd move two whole pods at the same time, but I guess he got lucky.  Anyway, that's who'd you'd have to start with if you wanted to pursue something against Drosslemare as a ship – well look at that!"

    Theo was not as buzzed up as she thought she'd be nor feeling any need to explain herself. The pilots were treating this as a serious but manageable event, so could she.

    Since Slayn was witness, he sat at ease on a chair half-camouflaged by the norbear's greenery, using a mobileset, while Guild Master Peltzer stood unmoving with hand on ear, listening to news from Codrescu's control rooms. 

    When he did move, his fingers said back here, both, while he said outloud "Mister Slayn, please be careful. Batzer and Peltzer, Flatzer, Mertzer are all well-known, even historic names on Eylot; please do not dismiss someone because of the name, no matter how local it may be!"

    As he spoke he pushed against a section of wall, which slid open to reveal a short hall; before the door closed again there was a snort and Theo felt a tug from her knee – not a muscle strain or knee injury, but Hevelin, politely tapping at her knee, and pressing with his gripping paw.

    Peltzer laughed.

    "Let him come along if you like; but not the young one. The yoster still needs to learn manners!"

    The door to the right opened to a workmanlike office with multiple screens and a three dimensional projection showing what must be Codrescu's near space – and the chronometer ticking away said it was in real time.

    "Pilot Waitley, since one of your admirers is to hand, we'll add him to the discussion; he already requested attention and he's on his way.  What wonder have you discovered, Mister Slayn?"

    "Batzer's not listed as agent for Drosslemare any longer; looks the termination was effective immediately the last pod-connect was confirmed.  Since the incident occurred after that confirmation..."

    "Mister Slayn, I suggest you do a statistical analysis of the 'pod-breakers' and see if you see don't see a connect/disconnect relationship on many of the ships they handle.  Some of them do trade for the family ships, that's true – they don't count for this ... but the real meteor-shreds are almost as leery of their agents as their agents are of them."

    Theo found herself and Hevelin a seat with a view of the projection, curling into a repurposed lift-seat. As soon as she sat she regretted not being more advertent: Slayn had dragged the recovered bag in with him and sat on one of the broad cushioned file-sections that lined one wall. 

    Peltzer's perch was just that: a tall stool that looked like it was stolen from a port-bar.  He sat, turned about, quick eyes checking the real-time, hand tapping at the spot on his shoulder that brought him, and him alone, information from somewhere.

    "Do you have that analysis?"

    Peltzer's fingers said soon soon quick soon.

    "You're right of course," Slayn admitted. "I hadn't thought it through. Almost all of these contracts are on-delivery or on-event automatics; the funds transfer as things occur and the relationships are short-terms.  No one is responsible for a breath longer than they have to be!"


       
   
    "Codrescu Council's won't move on this: they've seen the records and feel like there's just a matter of drunk-boat behavior.  I think that since they pulled a gun it might be more than that, but since they didn't actually gain control of you or maintain control of their weapons, the port's willing and even eager to let slide."

    Peltzer was pointing to printouts, and handed one to Theo, who looked it over, seeing large tracts of fine print and not much sense to it.

    Theo's so-called admirer Qaichi Bringo had joined them and sat beside Slayn on the broad cushions, slowly inventorying the contents of the bag to hand with a scan-camera; he looked up at Theo and waved, vaguely shaping what looked like confused unconfirmable paths as he explained, other hand still shuffling through the bag. He was a graying and tidy man in an old uniform; the sleeve cuffs and collar were shiny with wear and his serviceable shoes were marked with the indents of guide pedals used frequently. 

    He'd arrived without fanfare, nodded as much at Hevelin as at Theo, and after looking at her hard, as if storing her in memory, had gotten right to work, talking without looking at her, saying "Pilots working the close in stuff, I like to know who they are, Waitely; you was new, and not Guild yet, so I needed to ask, not being rude.  I'm Chief Tugwhomper and ...

    "Tugwhomper?"

    He'd smiled gently. "Local usage, Pilot.  I'm overseeing the yard on all but three shift; and since you drew the hardest attach-slot we got right now, thought I ought to know how close to run and if I ought to notch up the safety alert. Din't, on account of you was running with a good second and aside that, the Out-Lady had your record and was giving a thumbs up."

    Now he sat working rapidly, mostly one handed, the other hand always slightly away from his body like he was used to moving in very low gee more than even station normal.

    "But how can they get away with this?" She waved the flimsy, scowling. "I mean, what happens if they try this somewhere else? Can't the guild act?"

    Bringo looked up, ghost of a smile on his face as he threw something back into the bag as he finished scanning it, and then got serious, his free hand scratching at the side of his ear where his shipcom would usually perch.

     "Because none of them are pilot guild members, and none citizens, and none have ever been here before, nor likely to show face  again, that's how they can get away with it.  Come in with a two can transfer and they're out.  Filed no plans beyond Eylot's Jump, and then they hardly followed line on that, like to make it hard to trace.  Ship's pilot is rated, the co-pilot is rated, but the crew: low port or worse, I'd say. Them pilots are rated, but not guild. "

    His hands found something else that made him smile as he sorted, and then he looked hard at Theo.

    "You really want to cure them, you can: but you'll have to post bond on the cost of rousing a three-ship intercept, and then you'll need a lawyer willing to take your money for the rest of your natural life and then some.  Given the situation, you'd end up dealing with Brine Batzer if you did that."

    Peltzer harumped.

    "Pilot Waitley may be required to deal with Brine Batzer. Drunk-boat or not, there will an incident report.  Batzer was agent of record so the port will be be sending him a – let's call it a note – on this incident. This isn't the first time one of his contracts has acted up, after all, and Condrescu will have to tell him the ship and all of the crew are banned, just so he doesn't get to thinking the bunch is a fine and upstanding group of laddies, hey ho. In the meantime, we, of course, will add them to the not-approved cloud for the next infoshare."

    He stopped, peered into the projection, and muttered into his shoulder a moment, nodded, and looked up.

    "Batzer is within his rights to follow-up on the actions of his contracted ships until they leave Eylot space, if he gets a warning.  He may do that. He may be too busy."

    "So, pilot, since I'm informed you have an assignment which requires your immediate  return to Eylot, and since we're not one of us related to you, bound to you, under contract to you, or contracted by you, we three can act as witness, in that Codrescu has approved of your claim to salvage. In the event that something untoward or illegal is here, we will witness that it was salvage and turn it over the the appropriate authorities, if any such exist."

    "Salvage?" Theo turned to Slayn, who was now sitting with a gun in his lap,  looking like a child with a new toy.

    "I told you," he said. "You're dangerous, but you ought to have a gun, anyway. You get salvage rights on account of being the subject of unruly behavior that is otherwise unresolved. This, for example,  appears to be a perfectly serviceable hand-arm for close work; you want to have an armorer do a refurbish for you, as a matter of course.  I'd say it's under a decade old; the holster could use some work, and you'll want to check your charges before you depart with it."

    Showing her that it was unloaded he flipped it toward her. Surprisingly, Hevelin's tiny paw was on it as she snagged it; he looked it over, peered into her face, and then shrugged back into her lap comfortably.

    She held the thing, snagged the charges he tossed to her next.  It was compact, it was comfortable in her hand. She tucked it into her leg pocket, where it didn't show too much different than a double ration pack.
   
    Pilot Bringo spread the rest of the bag and contents before her.

    "Not a pilot's kit, but that's the pity. that way you mighta got some good nav-guides or a restaurant chit worht owning. Got some clothes, won't likely fit you good, but  can wear well-enough the station's Refitya shop can use them; that bag, too. Got a couple names on it, and I think someone starting ought to not drag other names along and confuse things. Deep space isn't where you want people guessing who you are."

    She looked at the remaining items; small metal items and a personal knife, airtight containers of --

    "Is this worth anything, really?"

    Slayn took over, pointing to things.

    "This seems to be vya, a commercial container, unopened. Always a friend of a pilot, for use or trade, this is a modest amount in moderate grade – but still, like the gun, having it will be worth more than sending it to consignment. This, he said, unrolling a very fancy tooled leather packet, "is a set of matched firegems."

    The three older pilots burst into laughter as one, and Hevelin echoed their amusement.
    "Firegems?"

    The light seemed to explode from the gems; like a rainbow had run loose the colors sparkled and – there were seven of them, and indeed, they seemed not only matched, but identical.

    "They are very pretty, but I don't wear jewelry!"

    This inspired another round of mirth.

    "Pilot, of all the jewels and geegaws in the universe, a pilot should never be seen wearing firegems!"

    Slayn was not laughing as hard as he might, Theo saw, and in fact he was perhaps blushing.

    "I should apologize, Pilot," he said with a nod.  "We all forget. Firegems are indeed pretty and perhaps even attractive, but you could probably buy a double handful of these for the price of the cheapest ale on the station."

    He held one out to her and the light played about so much that Hevelin leaned to look at it too.

    "But why the pouch – how did you know before you opened them?"

    "Lotta crew members carry these," Bringo broke in, "and some pilots, sorry to say.  They are trade, or more-like bait, good for back-worlds where travelers are not news.  And so a poor man might open a pouch like this and offer a gem in return for favors, or explain that they were going to rich, soon, and borrow money on the contents.  These things, pouches and all, sometimes with certificates of authenticity too, you find them in the cheap shops some spacers visit."

    With some effort Theo rolled and sealed the firegems and was about to throw it into the bag when Peltzer said, "And like vya, perhaps something that can be carried if you have room and are unsure of your destination.  At times a pilot must act for the ship, after all."
    Theo looked at Peltzer, heard Hevelin's deep thrum... and tossed it back in the bag.
    "Knowing choice is a better choice," Bringo said, nodding toward her. "Some solutions are better to not have to hand."

    "And finally, there are a few odds and ends of coins, and this which I cannot identify. A mechanical thing, a --

    Theo took the object, and it was if she felt a buzz in her ear, and a sudden distraction. It felt, dirty. She dropped it, and the buzz was gone.

    "Don't want it," she said succinctly, and reached for the signing tablet to witness she'd made her choices.

    At that Hevelin chuffed for attention, and images of those people she'd seen before Father and those others, rose before her.  There were also brief flashes of the men she'd fought, and even of Brine Batzer, but they faded.   Theo had to admit he had a point: the uglies were gone. This pleased her as much as him.