PRECIOUS CARGO	

@Copyright 1999 by Maureen. All rights reserved.


Part 12


   The sleek shape of the Satisfaction emerged from hyperspace a 
few hundred thousand miles "above" the surface of the planet 
Perion. It began to maneuver its way into Perion Spaceport, 
perched in geosynchronous orbit far above the highest reaches of 
the atmosphere and its dangerous friction.
   Fortunately, computers handled most of the complex 
calculations involved, but the process still was better and safer 
if personally overseen by skilled pilots.
   Perion Spaceport is a busy one. It took an hour to reach the 
Spaceport bay, and another twenty minutes to work their way 
toward the Satisfaction's assigned berth, Control yakking in 
their ears all the while. Fodessa was convinced the traffic 
operator assigned to them was a coyote, if not a jackal.
   On the way, her fur crawled with paranoid imaginings of a 
paid-off Control or a passing vessel simply blasting them out of 
space. It was silly, of course: the real danger, if any, would 
begin when they were on the surface. She often suspected her 
imagination was simply too vivid.


   They stepped out of the heavy bronze-and-glass doors of Port 
Surfaceside, joining the busy mobs around them in Spaceport 
Plaza.
   Much of the surface of Perion enjoys a tropical climate. Its 
largest city, Telper (where the Spaceport lies), is as warm as 
Tampa, Florida on Old Earth, which is what makes many of its more 
unusual outdoor pleasures possible year-around. Today was 
brilliantly sunlit and warm.
   Fodessa was dressed in her semi-casual clothing: a flowing 
green faux-silk caftan, tight cotton pants as black as night that 
flared above her ankles, a gold hoop earring in one ear. Caitlin 
was dressed equally casually in a blue T-shirt (T-shirts having 
never lost their popularity over the millennia) and gray woven 
slacks.
   The slaves wore considerably less. Windrunner was naked except 
for a black leather G-string that barely covered his bulging 
genitals. Katie had been allowed an extremely skimpy affair that 
was little more than a pair of crossed silk bandannas to cover 
her breasts, plus a G-string of her own, both also black. Her 
wrists were cuffed behind her back, a public punishment due to 
yet another disciplinary problem.
   If it had been up to Caitlin or Fodessa, she wouldn't even 
have been allowed the scanty top, but Perion custom preferred 
that slaves have their "naughty bits" covered until they had left 
the Plaza entirely.
   Both wore the simple black nylon collars that Perion codes of 
clothing reserve for the smuggled slave who has not yet been 
sold. Fodessa and Caitlin held the leashes.
   To judge from their expressions and their smells, they were 
shitting bricks. They drew smirks and amused looks from passers-
by who saw or smelled their reactions.
   Even so, they didn't stand out from the crowd *that* much. 
Fodessa glanced around, furry-watching, as she led her little 
entourage down the public walkway.
   A skinny chipmunk female passed them, her paws bound behind 
her back, wearing only a white bikini bottom and a pair of 
crystal-clear nipple caps on her shaven teacup breasts. She was 
being led on a leash by another, better-endowed female, a skunk. 
Then a pair of equines crossed in front of them, a stout zebra 
mare and a handsome black stallion, side by side. The stallion 
had no leash, but wore a black leather collar.
   Windrunner's green eyes were round as saucers, and the 
expression on Katie's face surpassed description. Caitlin was 
smirking.
   It was a lucky thing neither slave knew about the PW's both 
she and Caitlin had in their pockets, and that they were too 
overwhelmed to notice how the two felids scanned the area 
constantly, tails twitching.
   They made their way across the plaza to the nearby teleport 
booth, with a pair of baggage handlers (a male topi antelope and 
a lioness) trundling their luggage along on anti-grav carts. 
After punching in their destination, they arrived on the steps of 
the posh Delchion Wayfarer's Hotel, a huge building that appeared 
to be composed entirely of pink marble.
   They dismissed the handlers, took back their luggage and 
carried the bags in (with the assistance of Windrunner and the 
now-unshackled Katie).
   The Wayfarer went for a retro-classic look: the lobby was more 
pink marble everywhere, with palm trees in great planters 
nourished by amplified sunlight through the great skylights 
overhead. The carpet under their feet was deliciously thick ruby 
plush.
   "Would you like us to put them in the slave quarters?" asked 
the red-fox vixen at the big dark-wood desk, smiling.
   "No, they're staying with us," Fodessa answered.
   "Then have a nice stay, Fodessa," she said, handing the 
clouded leopard her electronic keyset.
   A wrought-iron elevator brought them to their suite.
   The slaves were put in their chastity belts and dismissed to 
an adjoining room. A few minutes later, as they unpacked, there 
was a knock on the door. Caitlin answered it.
   Standing there were two furries wearing the solid black knit 
tops of the Sevin Law Corporation.
   One was a standard bull morph: six feet five inches Terran 
style, jet black as Caitlin, with an impressively sweeping set of 
horns, an even more impressively muscled torso, and a poker face. 
His mud-brown pants looked hand-tailored.
   "Sevin Law Corporation," he announced. "I'm Dosh Gibbs, and 
this is my partner, Li Quong."
   He was all business as he shook appendages with Fodessa 
without even a social smile of greeting. (Furries descended from 
ungulates had what were called "hooves" at the ends of their 
arms, but usually the fingered appendages were more like paws 
except for the large dark nails. They were as dexterous as pawed 
furries. Dosh's hooves were no exception.)
   His expression wasn't hard, just unemotional, neutral. Even 
his tail barely flicked.
   It was Li Quong who made Caitlin do a double-take. She was a 
genet -- barely four feet tall, and no more than sixty pounds 
soaking wet, her big bushy tail included.
   Quong's orange-yellow cat eyes sparkled as she eyed Caitlin. 
Evidently she'd seen this reaction before.
   Like most genets, she resembled a cuddly toy more than a 
furry, with black-spotted yellow fur, a short weasel-like muzzle 
and big black ears. She wore the same uniform as Dosh -- the 
Sevin Law top with drab trousers, with only one addition: a belt 
with no less than five sheaths for knives, every one of them 
filled -- but with knives as diminutive as she was, no more than 
four inches long in the blade.
   Caitlin recovered himself as Dosh set his small personal bag 
in a corner. He looked at Fodessa pleadingly, not daring to say 
anything.
   Quong looked at Fodessa, grinning.
   "Should you tell him, or should I?" Fodessa asked the genet.
   "I would rather show him, Captain Fodessa" Quong answered. 
Even her voice was diminutive -- high-pitched, soft, with a 
clipped Yin-Tang accent.
   Fodessa nodded.
   She barely glimpsed the movement of the genet's arm as a flung 
knife went by Caitlin's head, so close that it clipped off the 
end of a whisker. Even her keen feline eyes couldn't quite follow 
what happened after that, but when the fractional second of 
flurry was over, Caitlin lay on his back, Quong astride him with 
another of those little knives at his throat.
   Quong grinned an engaging, mischievous little grin, sheathed 
her knife and stood up, then bowed. Caitlin got up slowly, his 
expression beyond description.
   "You've never heard of a Mesui Knife-Adept, have you?" Fodessa 
said. "We have them on Bournabi."
   Caitlin rubbed his shoulder, grimacing. "Nope," he admitted.
   Fodessa sneaked a glance at Dosh, saw the first ghost of a 
smile on the bull's blunt muzzle.
   Fodessa was still grinning as she shook paws with Quong. 
"Pleased to meet you as well," she said.
   As it turned out, physical violence wasn't the bodyguards' 
only talent. With equipment retrieved from Dosh's bag, they swept 
the entire suite, slaves' rooms included, for bugs, boobytraps 
and other surprises, finally pronouncing them clean.
   Quong looked at the near-naked Katie and grinned but said 
nothing. Katie simply glared back, but her expression couldn't 
quite hide curiosity. Dosh simply nodded politely to both of 
them.
   With that accomplished, the mismatched pair retired to the 
spare room of the suite.
   Fodessa pulled off her clothes, ignoring Caitlin's presence in 
the room, and flopped down on her back on one of the two giant 
beds. She yawned and stretched, feeling the tensions of the day 
drain out of her.
   Then she turned to look at the black panther and grinned 
again.
   "Bring the slaves back in here," she told him.



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