They were led around the perimeter of the enclosure to places not far
from the high seat. Van Rycke settled down with a grunt of satisfaction.
It was plain that the Free Traders were numbered among the nobility. They
could be sure of good trade in the days to come.
Delegations from neighboring clans arrived in close companies of ten or
twelve and were granted seats, as had been the Terrans, in groups. Dane
noted that there was no intermingling of clan with clan. And, as they
were to understand later that night, there was a very good reason for
that precaution.
"Hope all our adaption shots work," Ali murmured, eyeing with no pleasure
at all the succession of platters now being borne through the inner
opening of the table.
While the Traders had learned long ago that the wisest part of valor was
not to sample alien strong drinks, ceremony often required that they
break bread (or its other world equivalent) on strange planets. And so
science served expediency and now a Trader bound for any Galactic banquet
was immunized, as far as was medically possible, against the evil
consequences of consuming food not originally intended for Terran
stomachs.
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