Freelance On The Galactic Tunnel Network, E. Foner [the unexpected everything txt] 📗

when I tested them, they read over eighty percent of the life left. I should have known something was wrong because the asking price was too low, but the guy had a sob story about needing cash to cover his mortgage, and I got greedy and blew all of my operating capital on them. A day after I realized I’d been had, the reps from MORE showed up and offer me a refi deal.”

“I didn’t quite understand what happened with the fuel packs,” Georgia said. “Those thin-film batteries you talked about. Are they alien technology?”

“Verlock, I think. I found out later that most species use them in tabs, but a fuel pack holds like a trillion times more power than a thin-film battery—it’s completely different technology. I only found out when I sold the first fuel pack to another trader and he didn’t even make it off the ground. It’s lucky for me that ship controllers test the reserve capacity when they power up or I might have been guilty of murder. As it is, the guy socked me in the jaw for being an idiot, and I deserved it.”

“So just to recap, you spent all of your cash on fuel packs that turned out to be worthless, and then MORE reps happened to show up and offer you a lifeline.”

“At the time I was like, ‘Thank you, thank you,’ but the payment schedule left no room for error, and when I tried the new trading platform—”

“Advantage?” Georgia interjected.

“Disadvantage is more like it. Within six months of the refi, I was selling at cost to try to raise cash for payments. Now I’m just another shipless bum at Rendezvous hoping somebody has room for a thirty-one-year-old apprentice so I can start over again.”

“Did you report it to anybody? EarthCent Intelligence?”

“About the fuel packs? I put the word out on the trader network, but I’m sure the guy was using a fake name and probably a disguise. It’s easy with Horten facial gel to pass as somebody else for a few days.”

“I meant about the MORE reps showing up right after it happened.”

Daryl’s face turned pale. “You believe they set me up? The timing seemed suspicious when I thought about it later, but I figured I was just being paranoid. I wouldn’t even be telling you this now if it wasn’t for the guy with the cool gryphon at the Tall Tales competition last night. He’s right about sharing information. If all of your readers laughing at me for being a sucker is what it takes to keep some other trader from losing his ship, I’ve got a thick enough skin for that.”

“Thank you, Daryl. And I don’t think anybody will laugh at you,” Georgia said. “Oh, and take a marker,” she added, producing one from her purse.

“As if I had something to write on, but beggars can’t be choosers,” the trader said. “Speaking of which, I’m going for another round of free pancakes.”

“Good interview?” Larry asked her after the grounded trader got back in line.

“A couple more like that and we’ll have this story wrapped up before Rendezvous is over,” she said. “How are you making out?”

“Our opponents are giving away more than playing cards,” Larry replied grimly. “One woman showed me a token that’s good for twenty creds off her next mortgage payment if their side wins. Somebody has deep pockets.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“There was never really any competition for seats before, and some years, my dad and the old hands had to beg their friends to stand as candidates to round out the number. Why would the Guild need rules about buying votes when they couldn’t give away the seats on the council?”

“I guess. What are they doing?” she asked, pointing at the ramp leading up to the hold of Fanny’s ship. People were beginning to gather around, and it looked like a middle-aged woman was preparing to give a speech.

“I forgot about this, we should go over and listen,” Larry said. “There was an announcement at the first round of the Tall Tales contest that somebody from the president’s office was here to talk about new opportunities on Earth.”

“The president of EarthCent is here?”

“His public relations director, and I think I remember reading somewhere that she’s his mistress, so she probably speaks for him. I never traded on Earth because it doesn’t seem like a promising place to find alien artifacts, but if they make it profitable…”

There was a loud whistle of feedback from the sound system that Fanny’s family had rigged to the ship and everybody who still had their high-frequency hearing winced. The woman from EarthCent was obviously an experienced presenter because she didn’t flinch or apologize, instead taking advantage of the sudden silence to launch into her speech.

“For those of you who don’t read the scandal pages, my name is Hildy Greuen, and I’m here from the president’s office to talk about our Twenty-Second Century Bazaar initiative.”

“Bizarre?” a kid standing at the bottom of the ramp asked.

“Bazaar, with three A’s,” Hildy explained. “It’s just another name for a trade fair that’s permanently in the same place. There’s a good example on Flower if any of you get the chance to visit.”

“You want us to travel all the way to Earth to lay out our blankets?”

“How many of you are familiar with the concept of subsidies?” Hildy asked in reply.

“You’re willing to pay us to come to Earth?” This question put an end to the breakfast conversations that hadn’t already been halted, and all heads swiveled toward the woman standing at the top of the ramp.

“Exactly. For some years now, we’ve been advertising Earth as a tourist destination for aliens, and thanks to the fact that most visitors arrive by passenger liner and take the space elevator, we’ve had good luck getting them to fill out exit