Jellico's cabin was papered with tri-dee pictures of the rare animals and
alien creatures he had studied in their native haunts or of which he kept
careful and painstaking records. Tau had his magic, Mura not only his
plants but the delicate miniature landscapes he fashioned, to be
imprisoned forever in the hearts of protecting plasta balls. But Weeks
had never shown his work before and now he had an artist's supreme
pleasure of completely confounding his shipmates.
The Cargo-master returned to the business on hand first. "You're willing
to transfer these to 'cargo'?" he asked briskly. "How many do you have?"
Weeks, now lifting a third and then a fourth tray from the box, replied
without looking up.
"Two hundred. Yes, I'll transfer, sir."
The Captain was turning about in his fingers the beautifully shaped
figure of an Astran duocorn. "Pity to trade these here," he mused aloud.
"Will Paft or Halfer appreciate more than just their scent?"
Weeks smiled shyly. "I've filled this case, sir. I was going to offer
them to Mr. Van Rycke on a venture. I can always make another set.
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