The Lost Colony by DM Arnold (thriller books to read .txt) 📕

sinks, but there's nothing they can offer in return that's of any value. Their technology is primitive and we have no need for their consumer products. Trade between Floran and Varada makes as much sense as trade between Floran and Earth. Varada looks like Earth plus two hundred years. And, for the life of me I can't figure out how Tomyka Wells obtained credentials to negotiate on behalf of the HL.”

“Suppose,” Andra mused, “the Varadans wish to barter minerals for grain. That explanation might answer both your doubts.”

“There's been no mention of grain in any our talks.”

“You said they have no pomma surplus.”

“That was only an educated guess.”

“Maybe they desire some of our wheat and maize to backstop the pomma crop.”

“Even if they did,” Nyk replied, “we have no need for their minerals. Mining colonies like Altia produce them in abundance.”

“Gamma-5 has a grain surplus and we know Tomyka Wells is hooked up with the Gamman ag minister. If the Varadans are keen enough they could make the terms very favorable.”

Nyk looked at her. “Suppose they were to trade directly with Gamma-5 and buy surplus grain in exchange for Varadan minerals as you suggest... Then the Gammans could offer the aluminum, titanium, copper, whatever to Altia's customers at cut-rate prices...”

“...and thus punish the Altians for engaging with Lexal. It would drive up the cost of their bread and hurt their revenue.”

“A one-two punch. It certainly would make Altia re-think its detente with the Lexalese. That must be Tomyka's game.” Nyk nodded. “She's negotiating a side deal. I've had a nagging suspicion that Tomyka has a hidden agenda. It's a good catch, Andra. I never would've gone down that path by myself.”

“There IS a competing explanation,” Andra continued.

“What's that?”

“The Varadans do possess another coin with which to pay for our technology -- a green one.”

“Novonids? That's ridiculous. They wouldn't dare. We would never permit it.”

“Wouldn't we?” Andra replied. “I imagine there are other Florans willing to take the Varadans' word on novonids at face value.”

“Other Florans?”

Andra narrowed her eyes. “Besides yourself and Tomyka Wells, that is.”

“I believe the novonids are too close to human for the HL to permit them on the colonies -- it's too dangerous a precedent. They might be persuaded to look the other way when it comes to the institution on Varada.”

“Too close to human? Nykkyo -- I do believe you're beginning to see them as I do, despite yourself.”

The car stopped outside the guest house. Nyk gave the driver the two-finger Floran salute and escorted Andra inside. He unlocked the door. The apartment was empty.

“It looks like Laida cleaned the rooms,” Andra said.

“Yes -- they're spotless...” He looked out a window at the Varadan sun settling below the western horizon. “I'm surprised she isn't here fixing dinner for us.”

“Are you becoming accustom to having a cook?” Andra asked.

“No, but I have become accustomed to having Laida here.”

He pressed the call panel. He pressed it again. A rap came at the door. Nyk opened it and saw a young novonid male. “Yes?”

“Where's Laida?”

“Who?”

“Laida -- Three-eight-six. Where is she?” He shrugged. “Have Alvo come up.”

“Right away.”

Nyk paced the apartment. Another rap came at the door and Alvo entered. “Is there a problem?”

“Alvo -- where's Laida?”

“Who?”

“Three-eight-six. Where is she?”

“Missing. She apparently wandered off during the day. I'll be speaking with her keeper about this. I don't pay for this sort of dereliction of duty.”

“It wouldn't be like her to ... wander off,” Nyk replied.

“How do you know what would or would not be in her nature?” Alvo replied. “Let me give you some advice, Mr Kyhana... Social fraternization with novonids is frowned upon here -- in some cases to the point of being a criminal offense. Since you are outsiders, take heed. You will do your cause well not to express too much concern for the whereabouts of Three- eight-six ... or any other novonid for that matter.” He turned and left.

Nyk looked at Andra, slack-jawed. “Oh, Andra -- I hope we didn't get Laida into trouble by being friendly with her.”

“I hope not, too. But -- I fear we might've.”

9 -- The Green Zone

“Six days of this nonsense, Illya.” Nyk spoke to Kronta through his handheld vidisplay. “Tomyka and Ogan have spent the past six days dithering back and forth on two paragraphs of the agreement. Today, I swear she insisted on reverting to phrasing we discarded two days ago. I'm mentally exhausted from it.”

“This is the nature of diplomacy,” Kronta replied.

“It's ridiculous -- and so agonizingly slow. I'd understand it if this were a final treaty, but it's only a letter of intent to begin the process of considering normalization. They should've been able to knock it out in half a day.”

“You're doing a man's job, there Nyk. Keep up the good work.”

“Thanks.”

“And, I appreciate the detailed reports on the novonids. There are many in the High Legislature deeply concerned about that institution. Keep me posted.”

“I will, Illya.” The session went dark. Andra approached him. “This is agony,” he said. “And, every time I think about Laida I get a pain in my stomach.”

“I don't know about you, but I find a hard day's work doing nothing exhausting.”

“No argument there,” he replied. “What do you make of it? What does your ax'amfin intuition tell you?”

“I'm baffled, Nyk. I can't figure out what Tomyka's game is. Perhaps it's because she's not an experienced diplomat. Maybe it's a power thing with her.”

“Power?”

“Yes -- she's determined to show Ogan who's boss.”

“Then -- how do you read Ogan on this?”

“I think he's a frustrated as we are.” She yawned. “I'm going to bed, Nyk. Are you coming, too?”

“I'm going to do some work on this agreement, so we'll have clean copies for tomorrow's session. Then, let the dithering begin ... again.”

“Good night, then...” She headed into the bedroom.

Nyk sat at the media terminal and accessed the data store Ogan had created for the negotiations. He stared at the document, his elbows planted on the desk and his chin propped in his palms. His eye caught sight of the stack of scrip on the table.

A check of the bedroom revealed Andra asleep. Nyk picked up the scrip and headed out the door. The Varadan yellow sun had set and the streetlamps were beginning to come on. He approached the livery callbox and pressed the panel.

A cab pulled over and admitted him. “Quadrant two, sector fourteen.” The driver nodded and headed down the street.

The livery stopped near the row houses that were Ramina's breedery. “Can you wait?” Nyk asked the driver. “I won't be long.”

“Sorry, pal,” the driver replied. “I gotta head back to the garage.”

“I'm a stranger in this city. How will I get back?”

The driver gestured toward the corner. “You can take the coach. They run 'til curfew. Just make sure you're on one when the warning chimes sound. You don't want to have to spend the night at a wayfarers' lodge. You'll end up bunking with someone you never met.”

“It might not be so bad,” Nyk replied with a smile, ” ... if she's cute.”

The driver chortled. “You wish, pal ... you wish.”

Nyk paid the fare, stepped out of the cab, approached the row houses and pressed the bell. He pressed it again. The door was opened by a novonid boy in early adolescence. “Is Ms Ramina in?” he asked.

The boy swung the door open and left Nyk sitting on the settee in the vestibule. He saw other pairs of orange eyes in young green faces peering from the stair railing.

Ramina in a long robe approached him. “Mr Kyhana,” she said, “what brings you here at this time of night?”

“Do you know of Laida's disappearance?”

She nodded. “Of course. Have you any news?” He shook his head. “I'm distraught over it.”

“So am I. Andra and I fear it's our fault -- that she was picked up by the authorities -- because we were being friendly with her.”

Ramina shook her head. “No, Nykkyo. Neither you nor she did anything improper.”

“You're sure?”

“Of course. Cordial friendship between our kinds is not a crime. There are some in this society who would like to see it thus, but it is not. I have my own theories about her disappearance.”

“Which are?”

“I suspect foul play.”

“To what end?”

“Are attractive young women ever abducted on your world?”

“On my homeworld -- almost never. On the world where I'm stationed for my assignment... Unfortunately, yes. You think it's something like that?”

She held her forehead, then looked up. “I fear it is. Since the registry has been in existence, the so-called green market mostly has been put out of business.”

“Green market?”

“Traffic in stolen novonids. Nowadays, a ... misplaced one would soon be spotted and returned to the rightful owner. Of course, changing registry numbers is not unheard of. There are disreputable brokers out there. I have notified the BSS...”

“In addition to everything else, the BSS maintains the registry?”

“That's correct. They'll be watching the auctions and the termination committees. I've spent the past few days contacting all the clinics specializing in novonid medicine.” She pursed her lips. “And, I've notified the morgues.”

“What about the authorities?”

“The constabulary are not excited about missing ... pets.” She spat the word.

“Knowing Laida as I do,” he said, “I would think she'd make every effort to return here, or contact you.”

Ramina nodded. “It's been the cornerstone of my philosophy to teach them as much independence as they can handle. They know how to be polite, but I also teach them how to scrap if the need arises. The need, I'm afraid, arises more and more often these days.”

“How so?”

“Over the past hundred years or so, we've seen more and more of them used in the cities.”

“No offense, Ramina, but don't you think an operation like your own contributes to the problem?”

“Who said it was a problem? There are those who welcome novonids...”

“Yes. I met a young woman in Ogan's office who believes her job was made possible by them.”

“... and those who don't. I'm a city girl, Mr Kyhana. This is my home. I wouldn't be happy out in the countryside, isolated on a farm. I do teach them ways to protect themselves.”

“In an altercation wouldn't Varadan law be one-sided?”

“You're perceptive... Yes. None of mine would ever start a fight. What I teach them is awareness, caution and escape.”

“You teach them street smarts. Thank you, Ramina. If it's any consolation Andra and I are sick about it. We'll do whatever is in our powers -- which isn't much, I'm afraid.”

“I appreciate it Mr Kyhana.”

He walked to the corner and approached the livery box. An indicator was lit. It read, “No service.”

He heard the whine of a turbine and saw a streetcar lumbering in his direction. Nyk stood at the stop. The bus came to a halt. He climbed aboard, inserted one of his scrip cards into the box and debited his fare. As the bus pulled back into traffic he worked his way to an empty bench in the back.

The bus crept its way along its route. Nyk reconstructed the stops they took when Laida accompanied them from Ramina's the other day. The bus approached a stop and slowed. Through the rear window he saw a familiar-looking young novonid woman preparing to step from the platform to the street. Laida!

Nyk dashed to the front of the coach, grabbing a transfer token on his way out. He saw her head to another stop across the street. A traffic light changed, leaving him stranded. He saw her bus held at another light. The light changed; it moved toward the stop and slowed.

He dashed across the street, pushed the door open as it closed and dropped the transfer token into the farebox. The bus pulled into traffic and made a turn. The roadway grew darker as they drew away from the streetlamps.

Nyk sat in the rear-most seat. He turned around and rapped on the glass to attract her attention. She turned her back to him.

He rapped again. “Laida!” he called. The bus approached a stop and she hopped off.

He sprinted to the front of the bus, but