“Captain Grange will see you right away—­” the Eysie Cargo-master was beginning when Van Rycke met him with a quelling stare.

“If you poachers have anything to say—­you say it at the Queen and to Captain Jellico,” he stated flatly and started on.

Above his tight tunic collar the other’s face flushed, his teeth flashed as he caught his lower lip between them as if to forcibly restrain an answer he longed to make.  For a second he hesitated and then he vanished down a side path with his assistant.  Van Rycke had gone a quarter of the distance back to the ship before he spoke.

“I thought it was too easy,” he muttered.  “Now we’re in for it—­maybe right up the rockets!  By the Spiked Tail of Exol, this is certainly not our lucky day!” He quickened pace until they were close to trotting.

Chapter II

RIVALS

“That’s far enough, Eysie!”

Although Traders by law and tradition carried no more potent personal weapons—­except in times of great crisis—­than hand sleep rods, the resultant shot from the latter was just as unpleasant for temporary periods as a more forceful beam—­and the threat of it was enough to halt the three men who had come to the foot of the Queen’s ramp and who could see the rod held rather negligently by Ali.  Ali’s eyes were anything but negligent, however, and Free Traders had reputations to be respected by their rivals of the Companies.  The very nature of their roving lives taught them savage lessons—­which they either learned or died.

Dane, glancing down over the Engineer-apprentice’s shoulder, saw that Van Rycke’s assumption of confidence had indeed paid off.  They had left the trade enclosure of the Salariki barely three-quarters of an hour ago.  But below now stood the bebadged Captain of the I-S ship and his Cargo-master.

“I want to speak to your Captain—­” snarled the Eysie officer.

Ali registered faint amusement, an expression which tended to rouse the worst in the spectator, as Dane knew of old when that same mocking appraisal had been turned on him as the rawest of the Queen’s crew.

“But does he wish to speak to you?” countered Kamil.  “Just stay where you are, Eysie, until we are sure about that fact.”

That was his cue to act as messenger.  Dane retreated into the ship and swung up the ladder to the command section.  As he passed Captain Jellico’s private cabin he heard the muffled squall of the commander’s unpleasant pet—­Queex, the Hoobat—­a nightmare combination of crab, parrot and toad, wearing a blue feather coating and inclined to scream and spit at all comers.  Since Queex would not be howling in that fashion if its master was present, Dane kept on to the control cabin where he blundered in upon an executive level conference of Captain, Cargo-master and Astrogator.

“Well?” Jellico’s blaster scarred left cheek twitched as he snapped that impatient inquiry at the messenger.