Read Trader's World for Free Online Page B

table, a wheeled trolley, and four chairs. A woman sat in the room alone, facing the door. She stood up as Mikal entered. He looked at her open mouthed. It had been nearly four years since he last saw Lucia Asparian, and he still thought of her as huge, towering over him. Now they were about eye-to-eye, and she was much younger than he remembered her.
    "Yes, it's me," she said. The door slammed shut. Lyle Connery had gone, leaving just the two of them. "What's wrong?" she continued. "Don't you remember me?"
    "Of course I remember you. I'll always remember you. If it weren't for you and Instructor Connery, and what you did . . ." The rush of words petered out. All he could do was stand there looking at her.
    She stepped forward, put her hands on his shoulders, and stared right back at him. "All right, Mikal Asparian ." She placed great stress on the second word. "You've made it this far. Now stand right there and let me take a good look at you."
    She surveyed his face and clothing for a few seconds, shaking her head, and then used her hold on his shoulders to move him slowly through a full turn. She ran one hand across the back of his head, tugged at the shoulders of his jacket, and put one finger inside his collar.
    "You've grown a lot," she said at last. "And I think you'll grow a good deal more before you're finished. Lyle tells me that the school gave you a bit of education. We'll see. Let's sit down."
    Mikal had stood uneasily through her inspection. "What am I doing here?" he blurted out as she stepped away from him.
    "Doing?" Lucia raised one dark, pencilled eyebrow. "Well, take a look over there and see if you can guess." She gestured to the table, set for two people, with closed dishes of food already waiting on the trolley. "We're going to have dinner. And we're going to talk. All right?"
    "Yes." Mikal gestured at the door. "But what about Instructor Connery?"
    "Lyle? He'll be back later to pick you up. He's a stickler for the rules, and a senior instructor doesn't single out one trainee and have dinner with him on the first day of training. Me, I'm not an instructor. I've been away on long-term assignment, so I couldn't visit you when you were in school. But I can do what I like while I'm here." She gestured to the serving trolley. "How would you like to help me and you to some food."
    "You mean, serve both of us?"
    "That's what I said." She watched closely as he ladled out two bowls of thick mushroom soup, then shook her head as he fumbled with the cork in a bottle of wine. She held out a hand without speaking. Mikal, feeling all thumbs, looked on sheepishly as she took the corkscrew and opened the bottle with a couple of quick turns of her wrist.
    "See that?" she said. "You asked me what you are doing here. That's what you're doing here. You're going to get a crash course on taking corks out of wine bottles, and serving food without spilling it all over."
    Surely she wasn't serious. "But why ?" Mikal couldn't help asking. "I don't even drink wine."
    "You will, if you get to be a Trader. You'll learn to drink anything you are given—that's part of negotiation. As to why you have to do things well, good Traders do everything well. And there's an even better reason." She lifted her glass of wine and stared critically through the pale liquid at the overhead light. "You're not just going to be a Trader," she said without looking at him. "You're going to be an Asparian . Don't you ever forget that, Mike. I'm not going to have somebody using my name unless he's the best he can be. You have to make the family proud of you." She leaned forward to study him, her head cocked to one side. "I'll be leaving in a couple of days for the Cook Islands training center, and who knows when I'll be back here. So after I'm gone you'll have to work by yourself. You have to work on everything . How to make social conversation, how to meet people, how to dress, who to trust, when to talk, and when to listen. Did you ever have a girl