It was summer in the northern hemisphere, and when the pinnace arrived over Melbourne, having followed the winding course of the Yarra to the foothills of the Dandenongs, there were still half a dozen hours of daylight left. The town, as were all the towns, was a small one; Grimes estimated that its population would run to about four thousand people. As they made the approach he studied it through powerful binoculars. It was neatly laid out, and the houses seemed to be of wooden construction, with thatched roofs. Beyond the town, on a conveniently sited patch of level, tree-free ground, towered the unmistakable metal steeple of a starship. There was only one ship that it could be.
Suddenly the pinnace's transceiver came to life. "Schnauzer calling strange aircraft. Schnauzer calling strange aircraft. Do you read me?"
"I read you," replied Grimes laconically.
"Identify yourself, please."
"Schnauzer, this is Number One Pinnace of FSS Seeker. Over."
There was a silence. Then, "You may land by me, Number One Pinnace."
Grimes looked at Pitcher and Billard. They looked back at him. He raised an eyebrow sardonically. Pitcher said, "Uncommonly decent of him, sir, to give permission to land . . . ."
"Mphm. I suppose he was here first—although I don't think that planting a shipping company's flag makes a territorial claim legally valid."
"They could rename this world Pomerania . . ." suggested Pitcher.
"Or Alsatia . . ." contributed Billard.
"Or NewPekin . . ." continued Pitcher. "Or some other son-of-a-bitching name . . . ."
"Or Dogpatch," said Grimes, with an air of finality. And then, into the microphone, an edge of sarcasm to his voice. "Thank you, Schnauzer. I am coming in."
Acting on his captain's instructions Billard brought the pinnace low over the town. People stared up at them—some in the by now familiar state of nudity, some clothed. Those who were dressed were wearing uniform, obviously personnel from the Dog Star ship. The small craft almost grazed the peaked, thatched roofs, then settled down gently fifty meters to the west of Schnauzer, on the side from which her boarding ramp was extended.
"Well," remarked Maggie, "we're here. I don't notice any red carpet out for us. What do we do now?"
"We disembark," Grimes told her. "There'll be no need to leave anybody aboard; the officers of major shipping companies are usually quite law-abiding people." Ususally, he thought, but not always. He remembered suddenly the almost piratical exploits of one Captain Craven, the master of Delta Orionis, to which he, Grimes, had been an accessory.
"What about Drongo Kane?" asked Maggie.
"You can hardly call him a major shipping company," said Grimes.
Three men were walking slowly down the merchant ship's ramp. In the lead was a bareheaded, yellow-haired giant, heavily muscled. Following him was a tall and slender, too slender, young man. Finally—last ashore and first to board—was a portly gentleman, clothed in dignity and respectability as well as in master's uniform. All of them wore sidearms. Grimes frowned. As a naval officer he did not like to see merchant officers going about armed to the teeth—but he knew that the Dog Star Line held quite strong views on the desirability of the ability of its ships and its personnel to defend themselves.
The door of the pinnace opened and the short ladder extended itself to the grassy ground. Grimes buckled on his belt with the holstered pistol, put on his cap and, ignoring the steps, jumped out of the small craft. He turned to assist Maggie but she ignored his hand, jumped also. Maya followed her, leaping down with feline grace. Pitcher was next, then Billard, who spoiled the effect by tripping and sprawling untidily.
Schnauzer's master had taken leading place now, and was advancing slowly, with his two officers a couple of paces to the rear. Unlike them he was not wearing the comfortable, utilitarian gray shorts, shirt and stockings but a white uniform, with tunic and long trousers—but portly men look their best in clothing that conceals most of the body.
He acknowledged Grimes's salute stiffly, while his rather protuberant brown eyes flickered over the young man's insignia of rank. He said, in a rather reedy voice, "Good afternoon, Commander." Then, "You are the commanding officer of Seeker?"
"Yes, Captain. Lieutenant Commander Grimes. And you, sir, are Captain Roger Danzellan, and the two gentlemen with you are Mr. Oscar Eklund, chief officer, and Mr. Francis Delamere, second officer."
"How right you are, Commander. I realize that there is no need for me to introduce myself and my people. But as a mere merchant captain I do not have the resources of an Intelligence Service to draw upon . . . ."
Grimes took the hint and introduced Maggie, Maya, Pitcher and Billard.
"And now, Commander," asked Danzellan, "what can I do for you?"
"If you would, sir, you can tell me what you are doing here."
"Trade, Commander, trade. This is a competitive galaxy, although you ladies and gentlemen in the Survey Service may not find it so. My employers are not in business for the state of their health . . . ."
"Aren't they?" inquired Maggie. "I would have thought that the state of their financial health was their main concern."
"A point well taken, Commander Lazenby. Anyhow, the Dog Star Line is always ready and willing to expand its sphere of operations. When a Dog Star ship, Corgi—but I imagine that you know all about that—stumbled upon this world, quite by chance, the reports made by her master, myself were read with great interest by the Board of Directors. It was realized that we, as it were, have one foot well inside the door. It was decided to strike the iron while it is hot. Do you read me, Commander Grimes?"
"Loud and clear, Captain Danzellan. But tell me, what sort of trade do you hope to establish with the people of Morrow via?"
"There are manufactured goods from a score of planets on our established routes for which there will be a demand here. For example, I have in my hold a large consignment of solar-powered refrigerators, and one of solar cookers. On the occasion of my first visit here a refrigerator was left with the, er, Queen of Melbourne. I was pleased to discover on my return that it is still working well, and even more pleased to learn that other, er, queens have seen it, and that still others have heard about it . . . ."
"You will remember, Commander Grimes," said Maya, "that I told you about the cold box."
"So even this lady, from Cambridge, many miles from here, has heard about it."
"Mphm. But how are the people going to pay the freight on these quite unnecessary luxuries—and for the luxuries themselves?"
"Unnecessary luxuries, Commander? I put it to you—would you be prepared to sip your pre-prandial pink gin without an ice cube to make it more potable? Do you enjoy lukewarm beer?"
"Frankly, no, Captain. But—the question of payment . . . ."
"These are sordid details, Commander. But I have no doubt that something will be worked out."
"No doubt at all," commented Maggie Lazenby. "When people want something badly enough they find some way of paying for it."
"In a nutshell, Commander Lazenby. In a nutshell." Danzellan beamed upon her benignly. Then, "I am sorry that I cannot ask you aboard my ship, but we are rather cramped for space. In a merchant vessel carrying capacity for money-earning cargo is of greater importance than luxurious accommodation for personnel."
"I understand," said Grimes. Such merchant vessels as he had been aboard housed their officers in far greater comfort than did the Survey Service. He went on, "Maya, here, wishes to pay her respects to her sister queen. We will accompany her."
"I'll show you the way, Commander," volunteered Mr. Delamere eagerly.
Danzellan frowned at his second officer and the young man wilted visibly. Then the captain relented. "All right," he said. "You may take the party from Seeker to Queen Lilian's palace." He added sternly, "See that they don't get lost."