the star lanes.
By law and right no Company man had any place here. Unless--behind a face
Dane strove to keep as impassive as Van's his thoughts raced. Traxt Cam
as a Free Trader had bid for the right to exploit Sargol when its sole
exportable product was deemed to be perfume--a small, unimportant trade
as far as the Companies were concerned. And then the Koros stones had
been found and the importance of Sargol must have boomed as far as the
big boys could see. They probably knew of Traxt Cam's death as soon as
the Patrol report on Limbo had been sent to Headquarters. The Companies
all maintained their private information and espionage services. And,
with Traxt Cam dead without an heir, they had seen their chance and moved
in. Only, Dane's teeth set firmly, they didn't have the ghost of a chance
now. Legally there was only one Trader on Sargol and that was the Solar
Queen, Captain Jellico had his records signed by the Patrol to prove
that. And all this Inter-Solar man would do now was to bow out and try
poaching elsewhere.

But the I-S man appeared to be in no haste to follow that only possible
course. He was seating himself with arrogant dignity on that unoccupied
stool, and a younger man in I-S uniform was putting before him the same
type of equipment Dane had produced for Van Rycke. The Cargo-master of
the Solar Queen showed no surprise, if the Eysies' appearance had been
such to him.

One of the younger warriors in Paft's train got to his feet and brought
his hands together with a clap which echoed across the silent gathering
with the force of an archaic solid projectal shot. A Salarik, wearing the
rich dress of the upper ranks, but also the collar forced upon a captive
taken in combat, came into the enclosure carrying a jug in both hands.
Preceded by Paft's son he made the rounds of the assembly pouring a
purple liquid from his jug into the goblet before each chieftain, a
goblet which Paft's heirs tasted ceremoniously before it was presented to
the visiting clan leader. When they paused before Van Rycke the Salarik
nobleman touched the side of the plasta flask in token. It was recognized
that off world men must be cautious over the sampling of local products
and that when they joined in the Taking of the First Cup of Peace, they
did so symbolically.

Paft raised his cup, his gesture copied by everyone around the circle. In
the harsh tongue of his race he repeated a formula so archaic that few of
the Salariki cou