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profusion as he stood in the aisle of fabrics and textiles, rather
he was examining the cards as well as the goods and if he left far
more cards than he carried with him, that was the sign of a careful
and deliberate buyer. The kind of buyer who might carry more than a
holiday tenbit in his pocket, of which they'd seen far too many in
this buying season.
    "Joshu, yesterday the large female wearing
strings of steel chain was the hope of the day, that we'd unload
the last of the Flovint rags. The day before was the cruise ship
madness which would make us our season. The day before . . . ."
    "This is hardly fit topic for conversation:
you and I both see this buyer and we can see he ignores the left
side of our booth, which is for the tourists and pays for the rice
in our bowls . . " he paused and shrugged his shoulders ". . . at
least some days it pays for the rice. But this man, my dear, this
man is impeccable. He is discriminating, he . . . ."
    Unexpectedly Joshu had run out of energy. He
reached into some inner reservoir and continued at a slower
pace.
    "He is the only one who has come back for a
second look at the warebook who has done more than stare at the
pretty images of the Sinners Rug. Truly, I believe it was wrong of
us not to have a catalog made up of that rug alone, to sell to the
tourists."
    "Should I flaunt myself to see if he
notices?" Beba swayed her shoulders suggestively, ringed right hand
turning palm out in invitation. "The rug provides ample
tutoring!"
    The quelling look was lost on her, but his
words carried some sense.
    "Hah, or should I flaunt? Someone as careful
of his person as that one may have wide-ranging tastes, my
dear."
    She laughed, for Joshu believed himself as
very private of his personal appetites as he was forward with his
wares. The image of him publicly flaunting himself was one she'd
not previously entertained, though she suspected Derry Caratunk
might.
    But there, their wares had not been so much
of interest and though they were not destitute they were far from
their goal of relocation out-system.
    "I'm for my break, and then the commerce
office to see if there's any update on those shipments that got
lost--so I'm away for awhile. But if that buyer comes around, you
pay attention."
    She nodded, but he took her hand and looked
deep into her eyes.
    "Really, listen to your head, Beba," he
said, nodding at the man and those two satellites who might also be
his people, "and tell me of his mood. I see he stays distant; if
you must, yes, gain his eyes."
    He took a deep breath. "I have to be
elsewhere!"
    For one with no measurable talent of the
mind Joshu had instincts which served him well, and she knew that
his game of naming this or that top prospect was as much a
challenge to himself as a prediction. Often enough he turned those
sales, even without her help.
    For a heartbeat she opened her senses to
Joshu. She did this rarely, for it seemed he kept his thoughts
secret from himself as well as from others. This time was
unsettling, for his mood seemed somber in a way that belied his
earlier banter. Colors fogged his face briefly, and the sense was
that of a long walk in near darkness, with grays and night-faded
greens moving in a deep, distant ravine.
    She used the training bought so dearly from
the tutor and smiled honestly at her partner as he left, as if in
joy of the hunt.
    *
    The three of them were obviously a team,
with the man Joshu had pointed her toward the probable hub. All of
them were pilots, if one read their movements, and all of them were
alert far beyond the edge of normal, if one saw the very tiny signs
and ignored the public ones.
    The public signs were thus: the smaller man,
with the look of a Liaden, was doing the larger scan of the hall
with some efficiency, his eye trained to see the carpet and not the
display. The others moved on their own after they spoke with him,
always staying within quick move distance of the hub but still
looking for this or that, likely at