Three days later the package sent from Trastor arrived. Versha, Arzoran commander of the Terran Patrol, called the Quade ranch to announce the parcel was at the port. Brad answered the ranch comcaller alone.
Versha smiled at him as she spoke: "It's here. Do you want to all come down to the port or would you rather I came up to the ranch?"
Brad grinned at her face on the screen. "You're as interested as we are," he accused. "Why don't you bring the package here, stay to dinner, and open it with us? After all, if the kids do end up chasing off after this possible Earth-type planet, you and the Patrol will have a legitimate interest."
Versha's dark-skinned, fine-boned face looked back at him soberly. "That's truer than you know, Quade. It's almost forty years since we found one. No," in reply to his questioning look, "we don't need one yet. But Terran Command would love to have coordinates up their sleeves for when the time comes. And if this world you may have a line on does turn out to have intelligent life, well, we can always use more allies, in case we run into a race like the Xik again. Quite apart from that too, the merchants of twenty human-settled worlds would love to have the chance at trading with a new race."
Brad, too, had sobered. "I know, but has it occurred to you that if this world is Prauo's, his people may not be happy to see us? After all, it looks possible that Machlightner stole one of their cubs, then abandoned him. Just how happy would you be to treat with aliens who'd done that to your kin?"
"And how happy would they be if they make it into space in a couple of generations and realize we never tried to find Prauo's home and return him? That's if they aren't in space already. Command has been talking about this ever since it realized that there could be a chance of finding Prauo's world. If you do find the planet, their compensation will be generous. It'll have been worth your family's efforts, and having the brass in your debt is a good thing at any time."
Brad groaned. "I know. I guess we go looking for the world if these papers give us any leads. After that, if we find a new race, we hope that Prauo and Laris can convince them it was all for the best."
Versha nodded. "Yeah, well, I'll see you all in a couple of hours. Versha out."
She was as good as her word when her crawler pulled up at the main house. All four of the younger people, with Brad behind them, were waiting in front of the door. She was swept inside, seated with a mug of swankee, and the package was placed on the table while everyone crowded around it.
By common consent it was Laris who opened the tidy-looking package which Brad's friend on Trastor had neatly sealed in heavy tape. So well had he sealed it that it took Laris several minutes to open it and spill papers out in a fan across the old table.
Storm quietly started to sort the old records, placing them first in date order, then, so far as he could, in separate piles by ship's name. To everyone's delight there was a small pile clearly marked Flame of Antares. At first glance there was nothing interesting about the documents: they were mostly cargo manifests and supply orders, with a sprinkling of crew memos and a copy of the final notice dissolving the company and notifying the captain that the ship would be going to Terran Command on its return.
Versha pointed to that. "So, now we know notification was sent. It explains why Machlightner made sure no one except his old friend knew he was still around."
Laris looked puzzled. "Why?"
Logan picked up the notice and looked at her. "Because this was an official document. It wasn't illegal surveys Gerald was running from as much as this. When the crew chose to vanish they became deserters, and taking the ship was theft of government property in war time."
Storm nodded. "For a defense against a charge of desertion, they could always assert citizenship with one of the nonhuman races, or claim a call-up exemption. There were a number of those they could have used. But stealing a spaceship in a time of war, one that had already been legally claimed as war matériel by Terran Command—that's a capital offense."
"What if the crew didn't get the notice?"
Storm looked at her kindly. "Laris, High Command wouldn't have just hauled the crew out and started shooting. They'd have used a deep mind-probe. The whole crew had to have known that if they were innocent they'd never have even been charged. That they chose to stay in hiding indicates that they deserted deliberately. But never mind that now. Let's see if there's anything these records can tell us."
It was Tani who found those which might. Her whoop of discovery attracted all gazes to her.
"Cargo manifest and supply chits for what I think may have been their last outward-bound voyage." She passed them over to Versha, who quickly scanned them.
"From the times we know that their ship was in port and from the records of supplies here, I'd say this is interesting." Her gaze darkened. "Very interesting. I wonder if this explains how they vanished so well."
"What?" The word was almost a chorus.
Versha looked up from the plasheets. "They appear to have purchased farming equipment. Let's see; the war's been over for almost four years now. It lasted five years, and this ship went missing almost on the eve of the war. So this gear would have been about nine years old. Yes, it fits. It isn't old stuff; it would have been state-of-the-art at that time. Much of it was nuclear-powered and automatic. Set the parameters, start it going, forget it."
Brad scowled. "So what you're saying is that something of this sort would be a huge advantage on a primitive world."
"More than that. It would almost enable humans producing a real food surplus to control that world or at least a large portion of it wherever they'd settled. Most primitive worlds have a chronic food shortage. They get by, but in bad years a lot of children and old people die. I can think of several worlds like that within our sphere of influence.
"But that isn't all, Brad. How do you think any Terran-settled planet involved in the war and having a food shortage would have reacted to the arrival of—say—a shipload of grain or meat? Easy to take on board, easy to store, just vent atmosphere in the cargo holds into space, and the grain or meat is freeze-dried as all the moisture boils away into space. It'd keep for days even after they landed. Ample time to transship it into planet-side warehouses.
Storm said several words under his breath. "They could get rid of a load like that in a lot of places. They would be able to sell it for credits, but they'd also be able to trade for other supplies, even personal luxuries, machinery, or minor repairs for the ship that wouldn't attract the attention of the authorities."
"Which is probably what happened," Versha said. "Now consider the time since. Nine years isn't long. They could still be around, they could very well be virtual rulers of some primitive planet."
Brad grunted thoughtfully. "They can't all be fools in that crew. Someone there will have been thinking how Terran Command would react if they found out about that. So they've been using the ship to do surveys as well. Load up on supplies, maybe take it in turns to crew—"
"Maybe take in some of the natives and teach them the basics," Logan interrupted. Versha's glare became ferocious.
"I can see that, too. Crats! I have to take all this to Patrol HQ. Go on, Brad."
"Well, if they find an Earth-type planet well outside Terran-claimed space and settle there, maybe they won't be found for a long time, if ever. Harb seemed to think they'd been making illegal surveys. Maybe that was what he was thinking about. I'm just surprised he didn't pack up and go with his friend."
"He may have meant to if Gerald hadn't been killed. Harb may know a lot more than he's said so far." Versha was looking grimmer by the minute. "I'll have the authorities pick him up." She looked at the records as they lay stacked in small, neat piles. if you can find a crew list for the Antares. It may give us an idea of how much they could have done."
Logan shook his head. "No, it won't. Look, we know Gerald was on Lereyne at least once. What's to say it wasn't only him and not only once? What if the Antares recruited very quietly after the war—or even during it? There'd have always been a few people who'd be happy to leave that behind and get away, particularly if they were on a conscription list or something similar."
Versha shook her head. "We can't get too excited about ideas that are only possibilities. I'll discuss this with Patrol HQ, and Harb is going to talk, too. Don't bother, Brad, I know where your comcaller is." She vanished in an atmosphere of thoughtful determination.
Brad nodded after her and spoke to Laris. "There goes probable assistance. If a few of the possibilities turn out to be more concrete after further investigation, you'll have half the Patrol helping you find Prauo's world. The other half will be looking for what ever the Antares has been up to this past nine years."
"Is that good or bad?"
"We'll know that, my dear, when we know exactly what they plan to do. But right now let's go back to these records. Storm, what can we estimate from them?"
Storm had taken the small computer as Logan passed it down the table. His fingers flew, inputing all the data he could gather from the crew list, cargo manifest, and supply chits. He input, studied the result, input again, and finally spoke. "Brad, don't you have a projection program for Terran-surveyed space?" Brad nodded. "Can you get that, please? These figures are very approximate, but we may be able to make some reasonable assumptions."
Brad returned, set up the tiny globe, and touched the button on the top. The globe rose from the table-top, and from it miniature planets and suns sparkled into view in holo-projection. Storm picked up the small pointer that came with it. He drew a circle in red light through the globe's projection.
"Judging from the cargo manifest and supply chits, if the Antares spaced straight outward and returned, this is the farthest they could have reached saving no safety margin. Now, they're unlikely to have gone in these directions; the Xik were most active in those sectors. They're unlikely to have gone beyond Terra this way. That's where the heaviest concentration of human-settled worlds is."
His pointer indicated two other lines outwards. "I think they'd have gone one of these two ways. One shows three planets that Terran Survey reports as inhabited by intelligent life but do not have anything beyond very minor technology. They're on the hand-pumping and beast-pulled plow level. This other sector was never adequately surveyed. The Survey ships that were just beginning to work in the area were pulled out at once when the war started."
Versha had returned and was listening with concentrated interest.
"Depending on whether the Patrol gets anything from Harb which can help us, I would say the obvious thing for our group to do is to search the second quadrant while the Patrol investigates the first. Since we're not hauling cargo and we're planning only the one trip—probably—we aren't taking the crew numbers the Antares had, either. If we cram the Lady with supplies and take extra fuel bricks for emergencies, we should be able to go to the limit of the area they reached and have time to search a number of worlds as well."
Laris looked at him hopefully. "Do you think we'll find Prauo's world?"
Storm shook his head. "I don't know. Harb may be able to give us something more to go on. But truthfully, with the little we have so far, I wouldn't give us a high chance of success."
Laris slumped dejectedly. At her side Prauo sent to her only: *Sister-without-fur, this is no great matter to me. I would be happy to find my world again. But not if it means losing you. Rather would I have my sister than a world I do not even recall. Know this for certain; I go nowhere you cannot go, I accept no people who do not accept you. It would be pleasant to find my world, but it is not a requirement for us two.*
Careless of any watchers, Laris knelt and hugged him tightly. *So we'll go and look. I hope we find your world for you—but if we don't, then I guess Arzor will be our world.*
Prauo's mind-voice became teasing. *Indeed, sister. And Logan may be the mate you have in mind when you have both completed your courtship rituals.*
Laris blushed faintly as she stood again. *There's time for that later. Right now let's see what we can do about discovering new worlds.*
Determinedly she picked up a stack of the Antares records and began studying them. It was unlikely she would see anything the vastly more experienced Brad and Storm had not already seen. But she would do her share of the work.
It took most of the day, but at last everyone was certain they had wrung all the useful information from the records. Several times during their work and breaks to eat, Versha had received spacegrams or messages through the comcaller. Some were direct, others were relayed from the Patrol building at Arzor's spaceport.
At last, later that evening, they gathered wearily around the table, relaxing with swankee, a stack of honey-sweetened thin, crisp, horva-grain biscuits—and their results.
Versha spoke first. "It looks as if Storm was right. The two directions he chose are still the most likely. The Patrol on Lereyne can't find Harb, either. In view of some of our possibilities, they're wondering if he did manage to contact the Antares crew somehow and get them to take him off-planet."
Brad shook his head. "I wouldn't have expected them to bother. He's older than most of them and not much use for physical work. As for his capabilities, most of the crew could probably do anything he could do. Harb was Gerald's friend, and I'd say without Gerald they'd ignore him."
"Unless they thought he knew too much," Storm said quietly. "In which case you should be looking in other places."
Versha nodded wearily. "We'd already thought of that. They're looking into where you could hide a body after they've finished looking for a live Harb. If he's dead there's no hurry. Dead men don't talk and it's a live, talkative Harb we need."
Logan reached over to touch Laris's hand. "You lived in camps. In a way Harb's being on the run is similar. If you were Harb, where would you go to ground?"
Laris gaped briefly. It had never occurred to her that in her new life on Arzor, her years in the refugee camps might come in useful. She settled to think herself into that frame of mind again. She could trust no one, the authorities were after her. But if she'd known that day might come, she'd have made preparations. And which preparations she'd have made suddenly became very clear to her. After a long silence, she looked up, her gaze pinpointing Versha. "Did you ever find out where Gerald was staying before he died?"
Versha rocketed upright. "Crats and helios! No, he had his identity disk on him. I think the peacekeepers on Lereyne did look, but so far as I know they found nothing."
"Harb would have known, though. And Gerald could have come to Lereyne under a false identity originally. Or maybe he'd already arranged one for Harb and he was taking his friend back with him."
Versha all but spat. "Yes, and maybe Harb had already arranged one for himself in case he needed it."
Laris grinned. "Did anyone ever run a financial breakdown on Harb? A check to find if he has any hidden accounts or expenditures?"
Versha looked interested. "What's on your mind?"
"You said he had a small pension. But from what Tani's aunt said, Harb wasn't ancient or decrepit; he just had damaged lungs the medics couldn't repair completely. But he has got space qualifications, quite good ones. It's possible he took casual work around one of Lereyne's spaceports? If he had money and a false ID he could have gotten off-world as soon as the Patrol came looking for him. That's what I'd have done. Spacers stick together. If Harb told a good story about how someone had framed him, there would always be a few other spacers who'd help him out of solidarity."
Versha disappeared towards the comcaller again and they could hear her voice, briefly raised. She returned looking satisfied. "They'll check all of that and a couple more ideas I had on the way. I'm heading back to the port and to my bed. I suggest you all turn in and we can resume this when we have more information."
Versha was back the next day, and the next, until they felt there were no more possibilities left unexplored. Meanwhile the ranch work continued, but Brad was quietly shifting men out to take over work on the ranch Storm and Tani owned. Animals couldn't be deserted; they had to be checked, no matter where their owners were or what they had planned. Storm noticed and said nothing. Brad understood that neither Storm nor Tani could remain on Arzor if a clue to Prauo's world was uncovered.
Laris's ship planeted two weeks after the package of TF Combine records arrived. She, Prauo, and Logan rode in the crawler to the ship as soon as Versha called to say the ship was in port. The Trehannan Lady was one of the smallest of the general Garand-class ships, but even so, she was bigger than many others in the newer Garand range of ships.
The Garands had been created as weight-carriers almost five generations earlier. They had a low top-speed, but because the engine type—which would accept almost any matter as fuel—they were excellent long-haul freighters. There was little to go wrong in the ships, and often permanent crews on the Garands might be out from their home port for years. So it was better to use the engine's work-horse capabilities to allow ample space for hydroponics and crew quarters.
Once Laris and Logan had boarded the ship, they found that the Lady was in fair repair, shabby but clean enough, and the ship's log was up-to-date as was required by law. The man who had been navigator and was now acting captain handed them the records, and departed to discuss port fees and a longer stay pad casting a few sideways looks at Prauo during the brief discussion before he left the ship. The captain wasn't sure if the feline was a pet or an associate.
Brad arrived at the ship five hours later, to discover Laris and his son looking satisfied.
"What's she like?"
"She'd good to go, Dad. All we need are the supplies and medical stuff Versha promised. We talked to Captain D'Argeis before he went to report at the spaceport office."
"What did he say about the crew? Is he interested in staying on as captain for one more trip?"
Laris dropped her gaze, looking a bit disturbed about something. "He'll stay. Mr. Quade, I don't think he has anywhere else to go." She recalled the short, stocky man with his graying hair. He looked hard and fit and his clothes were clean, even if, like the ship, they were a little shabby. His eyes were a warm hazel, trustworthy and kind. Laris had liked him on sight.
"He's been unofficial captain on the Lady for twenty years while my family's old partner had the official title. Before that D'Argeis was navigator and a crewman on the Lady still before that. I don't feel right about making him leave."
Brad smiled. "Have you seen the financial records?"
"Yes." Logan was holding a stack of disks. "I'd say the ship hasn't been making a fortune, but she gets by okay. Of course, from the figures, that's only lasted this long because she hasn't needed emergency repairs."
"What percentage was the owner taking?"
Logan shrugged. "A flat twenty percent. Beyond that the ship only just paid her crew, bought supplies, paid port fees and so on, picked up cheap cargoes on speculation, or took orders to deliver cargoes, and managed to hold a very few credits for emergencies."
"So you could run the ship as a trader?" Brad was looking at Laris. "Take ten percent, put the other ten into an account for those possible emergencies or to buy cargo on spec. There's another thought there, too. If you do end up finding Prauo's world, you may be able to sign trading rights, and as discoverers you'd normally have exclusive right to those, depending on the civilization you find there."
Laris's eyes widened. "Really?"
"Really. That way you'd be a spaceship owner, a free trader, and I can think of a few cargoes right now that leave Arzor and which you could possibly carry more cheaply. Things that are heavy but that don't have tight arrival times."
Logan nodded at that. "Frawn meat. It's a delicacy for the winter festivals all over Myril. About that time of their year we send a couple of shiploads. It's been costing us. The freight line uses the more modern ships. They're faster, but they're fuel hogs and they take less cargo. So it takes two ships to carry the usual amount ordered. Our profit margin is pretty small. Your ship could take all the orders in one load, and since we know exactly when the meat is wanted, we could just up-ship a bit earlier."
"A lot cheaper, too," Brad added, "for more reasons than fuel costs. Most modern ships don't vent to space without a lot of problems. With the Garands, it's just a matter of pulling a couple of levers and pressing a button. No need for refrigeration, less wear and tear on the engine, less cost to the ship."
Laris's eyes were shining. "Can I tell the captain all this?"
"I don't see why not. We'll need to go over to the port office now and see Port-Manager Guada. She'll want to shift the Lady to a side pad since she'll be staying a while. I can radio her from the crawler as we drive to the port."
Laris was first into the crawler, with Prauo a close second. Brad was already on the radio as Storm drove. Once the crawler arrived at the port Laris was first out, and raced up the pathway into the lower part of the port offices. There in the outer office, business was just concluding. Laris listened as port manager Guada listed final details for the Lady's move.
"We'll tractor the ship to pad twenty-seven. We can start refueling as soon as I have owner or manager authorization. I'll need a thumbprint and a signature." She heard footsteps and looked up to see Laris and the others.
"Hello, Laris, everyone. Brad, do you want to sign for these fuel bricks you ordered? If you sign now I have a tractor free to install some and stack the rest in the fuel-hold immediately." He nodded and she passed plasheets to be initialed.
She turned to Captain D'Argeis. "Captain, I know you've already met Laris Trehannan, your new owner, and her friend Logan Quade, these others are Tani and Hosteen Storm." Tani gave the small half bow, Arzor's ceremonial first greeting. Storm and Logan came forward to shake hands in the older Terran custom.
The captain studied the two with interest. Storm looked like what he'd heard the lad to be, almost full-blooded Navaho. Storm's black hair, dark brown eyes, and dark-skinned, high-cheekboned face proclaimed his heritage.
Logan, born of the same mother but of a father who was only part Cheyenne, was paler-skinned; his face was narrower, and his hair and eyes a shade lighter than Storm's. Yet there was a clear likeness between them, and the captain guessed they had much in common. D'Argeis liked the look of both young men. Storm looked sensible, and their gazes met his squarely.
"Mr. Storm, Mr. Quade, good to meet you."
Storm nodded acknowledgment of the courtesy but corrected the greeting. "Just Storm, Captain. I was in the ser vice and got used to that. Besides, I never much liked my first name. Everyone just calls me Storm, even my wife."
Versha had turned back to the Lady's new owner. "So, Laris, you have a spaceship of your own now. What are you going to do with her?" She eyed the girl, who was almost bouncing on her toes with excitement as Brad checked the fuel sheets. "I hear you're making one trip out. What about after that? We could use a Garand trading out of Arzor."
Laris bubbled over. "That's what we all think. I want Captain D'Argeis to stay on the ship as captain and run the Lady as a free trader for me, if he'll agree to that."
She saw the man's eyes abruptly fill with tears as he turned away from them to hide his emotion. Diffidently she reached out to place her hand on his arm.
"Captain, I never had a home that I can remember. I grew up alone in the camps with all my family dead or lost to me." No need to explain that term; every planet knew the refugee camps from the war as simply "the camps" and knew, too, what the camps were—or had been—like for those who lived in them.
"Captain, I don't want to take your home away from you. My friends and I just want to share it with you sometimes."
He nodded agreement, his eyes lit with happiness, and Laris caught Prauo's sending, to her alone. *Well done, sister. He rejoices. Let us do likewise. I think we have chosen well. This is a man to trust.*