The Terran Traders were protesting some course of action that the
Salariki were firmly insistent upon. In the end the natives won and Kosti
was summoned to carry on board the chest which the servants had brought.
Having seen it carried safely inside the spacer, the aliens departed,
but Van Rycke was frowning and Jellico's fingers were beating a tattoo on
his belt as they came up the ramp.
"I don't like it," Jellico stated as he entered.
"It was none of my doing," Van Rycke snapped. "I'll take risks if I have
to--but there's something about this one--" he broke off, two deep lines
showing between his thick brows. "Well, you can't teach a sasseral to
spit," he ended philosophically. "We'll have to do the best we can."
But Jellico did not look at all happy as he climbed to the control
section. And before the hour was out the reason for the Captain's
uneasiness was common property throughout the ship.
Having sampled the delights of off-world herbs, the Salariki were
determined to not be cut off from their source of supply. Six Terran
months from the present Sargolian date would come the great yearly feast
of the Fifty Storms, and the priests were agreed that this year their
influence and power would be doubled if they could offer the devout
certain privileges in the form of Terran plants.
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