Turn 142
    "It'll fall apart if my mother gets wind of any of this and calls me home, but that order'll still have to catch up to me."
    "If you can pull off that loan," Val says with a wry grin, "I think we might be able to do something. And I think we can keep one step ahead of any recall notices... What do you think?" It's not much, but its a start at mending things with the Zakharan.
    "That we should definitely give it a try, Captain. In light of which, when we get there, will you permit me to report in immediately? I'll take someone with me - Yestin, perhaps? - if you prefer, but I'm not comfortable waiting for Three Trees to decide what do do about me."
    "Don't worry about that," Val assures him. "I'll take care of that end. If we're in this, we're all in it together. And taking Yestin with you sounds like a good idea. I'll talk to him about it later."
    The two men discuss their plans, for once quite in tune with each other....
    * * *
    Abbarille: The Happy Argos
    "I'll take that as a yes. Barkeep, can we get two mugs of your lightest beer to fight off the heat, and two shots of whisky to warm us up?" As the drinks are being delivered, the half man looks over at his companion. "OK, now we just need to chat up a better feel for the lay of the land, and we should probably do Val a favor has start looking for a new navigator to replace the big brain. That ought to make his day easier."
    [GM: Psst, Martin. That was your cue.]
    * * *
    Abbarille: Olnfar
    [GM: On the assumption that you're going to be going here at some point, a beginning.]
    A bit of discreet asking around yields information about House Olnfar's local factor, Khalid Ibn Hatim. There is a small office near the spaceport, staffed most of the time by a pair of functionaries [who will be happy to make an appointment if requested], and a pleasant house in a rather expensive part of town. The architecture here is strongly reminiscent of home; heavy walls enclosing gemlike courtyards, dusty streets punctuated by sweet-voiced fountains, the hush that falls in the afternoon during the time of greatest heat. Only the thunderous voice of the sea is strange.
    
    

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