Trade Secret (eARC) Read Online Free

. . .
    The man before him began to fold his sales portfolio sadly and ventured, "One half-cantra, Trader, and you break my back at that."
    Jethri worked the feeling in his head, remembered Paitor's earnest lessons of give-and-take . . .
    "I have the eighth cantra in my pocket for you, and some Terran funds, ten kais. Also, paying cash we need not use the hall's sales registry nor fund transfers. Else, my meeting awaits. Understand, paying cash, I will forget your name."
    Jethri handed the trade case back, very concerned. Not about his offer, but about the contents that called to him and made his hands itch to hold them and have them and use them.
    The trader's eyes were large. Jerhri'd not meant to threaten, but now he could see the man before him losing composure. Surely, then, he was a desperate man, even more desperate than Jethri.
    The man's hands were shaking, but he was already reopening his portfolio. "Done."
    As the transaction settled, it turned out that the Terran coins broke to fifteen rather than ten kais, which Jethri allowed without hesitation. Now his urge was to be away from this man and his ragged breathing . . .
    The trader gone, Jethri slammed the sign onto the table, tucked his haul into his cloak's storage pockets. He realized he was shivering now, and wondered what he'd done to suddenly feel so cold.
    Those kajhets! Not toys, not toys, not toys. Paitor would have perhaps denounced the man, and perhaps Grig would have bought it all . . .
    It would not do to dine, even alone, while still so unsettled.
    Succor was to hand after a dizzying riot of panic, which he knew he must not succumb to, and then a reminder that some called trade "the quiet war."
    With the aid of one of Pen Rel's warrior tricks of centering, he let the hard floor be his base, let the world of breathing be his focus, closed his eyes for a moment to visualize the coming reality of the big ring, firmly on his hand, and he a trader of competence, and hurried for his break. With luck, tomorrow he'd sleep on Elthoria !

Chapter One

    Clan Ixin's Tradeship Elthoria , in Jump

    Jethri settled himself at his personal desk, breakfast a comfortable fullness. His standard-G weight was easy on him these days, even if that meant his attempted left-side braid tickled his forehead when he moved his head.
    As he was no pilot, the longer trader-style hair was something he'd been reaching for ever since his ship-cut, lovingly fashioned by Dyk into Jethri's signature hairsculpt, had been denounced during his first planetside training. Planetdwellers, he was informed, were often put off by the shave-head designs of shipfolk.
    He swiped the growing hair back carelessly, the triple topaz of his ring catching light that the crystal let through. He leaned on his left-side armrest despite his best effort to break the habit. Maybe all right-handed loopers did it, but his time at stinks patrol had shown him that his relatives on Gobelyn's Market surely had the habit and he'd been busily trying to erase such Terran tendencies in favor of Liaden--or at least Liaden ship-style--balance. Maybe if he could sit straight the lengthening hair wouldn't tickle so much.
    Around him the room was both cabin and office, his bed hidden now by the drop down research screen. His chair was a hybrid, an oversized trade-deck extra fitted with the normal connections for a working trader as well as a student's amplified speakers and note takers. All in all, it was the best study spot he'd ever had, though at times he missed the social contact of the library and took sessions there or in the staff room.
    Despite the ship dropping out--and then back in--to Jump, yesterday had been one of those social contact days, spent between the library, the staff room, the cafeteria, and the exercise courts where he struggled with the intricacies of menfri'at , the Liaden martial arts the arms master worked hard to teach him, as well as with the weight machines and other exercise devices, since he'd