The Lost Goats, 24
Jul. 14th, 2012 02:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
avevale_intelligencer"No, no, be cool, man, be cool," said one, and the clapping died down. "We don't make a big noise about it, look. Take the fun out of coming here for the tourists, that would."
"I don't believe it," Soren said flatly. "This dump?"
"Fair point," admitted the stallholder.
"No, it works, Soren, count it up." Zander ticked off points on his fingers. "No slaves, no outcasts, no chance of this lot ever waging a war. They don't trade in space, so the entire second pentad's irrelevant. Hardly any wealth, no power--"
"Solar and wind only," someone said, to general amusement.
"They satisfy all the Accords," Zander concluded. "No reason not to be Affiliated. All it would need is someone to put them up."
"Congratulations," said a dry voice behind them. Zander and Soren turned, to confront a tall, well-built individual in a long black coat. His hair was short (and seemed to go straight up) and he was clean-shaven, but apart from that--
"Galen," Zander said.
"Now you know," Galen Nyrond said. "Let's go back to my place and we can talk."
*
Galen's place turned out to be a modest dwelling some distance away from the market, in rather better repair (as far as the Nyronds could tell) than most of its neighbours. Inside, it was somewhat spartan, as befitted Galen's ascetic lifestyle, but comfortable nonetheless.
Galen listened to the Nyronds' tale of woe (not to mention hey, good heavens and you-don't-say) in silence, watching them from eyes so used to being keenly narrowed that it seemed they might never un-narrow.
"Arioch and Voltimand," he said. "Yes, they were here. They made the same discovery you did and left in a hurry. If I'd known they had coup files with them I'd have detained them and shipped them back."
"Wait on," Soren said. "What about the ones you've been nicking?"
"I needed..." Galen sought for words. "I've made this planet something of a project," he said at last. "I wanted to see it Affiliate. That way it would be safe from you people and your depredations."
"This place would have been safe anyway," Soren grumbled.
"Yes, well, there were other reasons," Galen said evasively. "Anyway, since they made Affiliation some unsavoury human interests have been trying to undo everything I've done. Apparently Otslag is still of interest to the criminal element, and the monitoring cramps their style. I needed some way to discourage them. I needed some help."
"Shame on you." Zander wagged a finger. "Using the tools of Satan to do your good works."
"I know," Galen said, looking tormented. "I burn for it every night....but there was no other way. I destroyed the files after I used them, anyway, so you don't have to worry about them falling into the wrong--well. Into human hands, let's say."
"And I don't suppose there's much point trying to get you to return to the smallship," Zander said.
"You can try," Galen said, with a small smile. "But I think I can take you both."
"Galen?" came a female voice from the back room. "Have you got company?"
"Through here, Viscera," Galen called. "I'd like you to meet my associate," he said to Zander and Soren. "I rescued her from her wicked ways, and now she helps me to trace wrongdoers and bring them to justice."
A dark-haired woman, carrying a basket of mushrooms, came through the tapestry curtain from the back. Soren emitted a strange gurgle.
"Probity???"
Zander looked at Soren in consternation.
The woman's eyes widened. "That's right. Doctor Probity Morgenstern." She smiled. "He likes to call me Viscera. It's because I'm a pathologist."
Soren turned to Zander. "Get me back to the smallship, my Captain. Little fluffy Soren has had too much."
"If you've ingested an overdose," Probity said earnestly, "you should drink lots of fluid--"
"Any idea where Arioch and Voltimand were heading?" Zander said over his shoulder, following Soren through the door."
"I think the Quastipulon system," Galen said. "Sorry I can't be more help."
Zander and Soren's course back to the smallship was as near a straight line as the haphazard layout of the place would permit, and the liftoff would have violated several safety protocols, if Otslag had had any.
"Are you going to explain to me--?" Zander said.
"Some day, my Captain," Soren said from the controls. "Some day. But not today."
"I don't believe it," Soren said flatly. "This dump?"
"Fair point," admitted the stallholder.
"No, it works, Soren, count it up." Zander ticked off points on his fingers. "No slaves, no outcasts, no chance of this lot ever waging a war. They don't trade in space, so the entire second pentad's irrelevant. Hardly any wealth, no power--"
"Solar and wind only," someone said, to general amusement.
"They satisfy all the Accords," Zander concluded. "No reason not to be Affiliated. All it would need is someone to put them up."
"Congratulations," said a dry voice behind them. Zander and Soren turned, to confront a tall, well-built individual in a long black coat. His hair was short (and seemed to go straight up) and he was clean-shaven, but apart from that--
"Galen," Zander said.
"Now you know," Galen Nyrond said. "Let's go back to my place and we can talk."
*
Galen's place turned out to be a modest dwelling some distance away from the market, in rather better repair (as far as the Nyronds could tell) than most of its neighbours. Inside, it was somewhat spartan, as befitted Galen's ascetic lifestyle, but comfortable nonetheless.
Galen listened to the Nyronds' tale of woe (not to mention hey, good heavens and you-don't-say) in silence, watching them from eyes so used to being keenly narrowed that it seemed they might never un-narrow.
"Arioch and Voltimand," he said. "Yes, they were here. They made the same discovery you did and left in a hurry. If I'd known they had coup files with them I'd have detained them and shipped them back."
"Wait on," Soren said. "What about the ones you've been nicking?"
"I needed..." Galen sought for words. "I've made this planet something of a project," he said at last. "I wanted to see it Affiliate. That way it would be safe from you people and your depredations."
"This place would have been safe anyway," Soren grumbled.
"Yes, well, there were other reasons," Galen said evasively. "Anyway, since they made Affiliation some unsavoury human interests have been trying to undo everything I've done. Apparently Otslag is still of interest to the criminal element, and the monitoring cramps their style. I needed some way to discourage them. I needed some help."
"Shame on you." Zander wagged a finger. "Using the tools of Satan to do your good works."
"I know," Galen said, looking tormented. "I burn for it every night....but there was no other way. I destroyed the files after I used them, anyway, so you don't have to worry about them falling into the wrong--well. Into human hands, let's say."
"And I don't suppose there's much point trying to get you to return to the smallship," Zander said.
"You can try," Galen said, with a small smile. "But I think I can take you both."
"Galen?" came a female voice from the back room. "Have you got company?"
"Through here, Viscera," Galen called. "I'd like you to meet my associate," he said to Zander and Soren. "I rescued her from her wicked ways, and now she helps me to trace wrongdoers and bring them to justice."
A dark-haired woman, carrying a basket of mushrooms, came through the tapestry curtain from the back. Soren emitted a strange gurgle.
"Probity???"
Zander looked at Soren in consternation.
The woman's eyes widened. "That's right. Doctor Probity Morgenstern." She smiled. "He likes to call me Viscera. It's because I'm a pathologist."
Soren turned to Zander. "Get me back to the smallship, my Captain. Little fluffy Soren has had too much."
"If you've ingested an overdose," Probity said earnestly, "you should drink lots of fluid--"
"Any idea where Arioch and Voltimand were heading?" Zander said over his shoulder, following Soren through the door."
"I think the Quastipulon system," Galen said. "Sorry I can't be more help."
Zander and Soren's course back to the smallship was as near a straight line as the haphazard layout of the place would permit, and the liftoff would have violated several safety protocols, if Otslag had had any.
"Are you going to explain to me--?" Zander said.
"Some day, my Captain," Soren said from the controls. "Some day. But not today."