expecting. It's been a long time since Grange heard anyone say 'no.'"

"A shock which is going to wear off," Jellico's habitual distrust of the
future gathered force.

"This," Van Rycke tucked the disc back into his pouch, "sent them off
vector a parsec or two. Grange is not one of the strong arm blaster
boys. Suppose Tang Ya does a little listening in--and maybe we can rig
another surprise if Grange does try to ask advice of someone off world.
In the meantime I don't think they are going to meddle with the Salariki.
They don't want to have to answer awkward questions if _we_ turn up a
Patrol ship to ask them. So--" he stretched and beckoned to Dane, "we
shall go to work once more."

Again two paces behind Van Rycke Dane tramped to the trade circle of the
Salariki clansmen. They might have walked out only five or six minutes of
ship time before, and the natives betrayed no particular interest in
their return. But, Dane noted, there was only one empty stool, one
ceremonial table in evidence. The Salariki had expected only one Terran
Trader to join them.

What followed was a dreary round of ceremony, an exchange of platitudes
and empty good wishes and greetings. No one mentioned Koros stones--or
even perfume bark--that he was willing to offer the off-world traders.
None lifted so much as a corner of his trade cloth, under which, if he
were ready to deal seriously, his hidden hand would meet that of the
buyer, so that by finger pressure alone they could agree or disagree on
price. But such boring sessions were part of Trade and Dane, keeping a
fraction of attention on the speeches and "drinkings-together," watched
those around him with an eye which tried to assess and classify what he