Free Conflict Of Honors by Steve Miller, Sharon Lee Page A

found she did not mind the variety of work. Rather, it seemed to ease her in some unidentified way, even as the mix of personalities exhilarated her.

    People. One might find friends here. She had found at least one friend already. And since she had had no friends at all, that was a treasure past any attempt at counting.

    The lift stopped, and the door slid away to reveal a bright yellow hallway. Priscilla walked to the end of it, feet soundless on the resilient floor, laid her hand upon the door, and entered.

    Instruments were flickering; one console was clamoring for attention, while a screen set in the far wall flashed orange numbers: seven in series; pause; repeat.

    No human occupant was apparent.

    "Hello?"

    "Hahlo! Yes! A moment!" There was a harried scrabbling from behind the center console. Priscilla started in that direction and almost bumped into the person coming the other way.

    "You are Priscilla Mendoza, yes?"

    "I'm Priscilla Mendoza," she agreed, bowing the bow between equals. "You are Tonee sig'Ella?"

    "Who else? No, we have not met—you must not regard. . ." An abbreviated version of the courtesy was returned. She had a moment to wonder if Fin Ton would have approved before her hand was caught in a surprisingly strong grip and she was pulled toward the console.

    "You are a decoder, yes? You have operated the bouncecomm and know the symbols? There is a difficulty with the in-ship, and I must have time, but the messages—you perceive? Do you but decode what arrives; encode what must be sent—I will have my time; we will not fall behind. All will be well!" the little tech finished triumphantly, pulling out the console chair.

    Priscilla sat and flicked a glance at screens, transmitters, receivers. The equipment was standard; there should be no problem.

    "How are we getting the messages to the proper people onboard?" she asked. "If the in-ship's out—"

    "I have spoken with the captain," the other interrupted, rubbing wire-thin hands together. "The cabin boy will be dispatched to the tower and will carry messages as they are ready. It should not be long. You are familiar? You will contrive?"

    "I will contrive." Priscilla made the assurance as solemn as she could, despite the rising wave of laughter. She swallowed firmly. "Lina Faaldom asked to be remembered to you. She says you haven't seen each other often this trip."

    "Lina!" The gamin face lit, eyes sparkling. "I will call on her—say, to beg her forgiveness!" A quick laugh was accompanied by the lightest of touches to her shoulder. Then she was alone. On the other side of the tower, Tonee was removing the cover of the noisy console.

    Priscilla shook her head and turned to the task at hand.
    * * *

    Gordy had just left with his third handful of messages. Priscilla heard the sound of the door cycling without assigning it importance, most of her attention captured by an unusually knotty translation.

    Could it really be "desires your most religious custom?" she wondered, fingers poised over the keys. The message was directed to Master Trader, Dutiful Passage. It would be best to take a little time to be sure.

    "What," demanded a heavily accented voice, "are you doing here?"

    Priscilla glanced up, stomach sinking. Kayzin Ne'Zame stood before the console, and it was apparent she was in no mood to be pleased.

    "I was assigned here," she began.

    "You are not cleared for this work!" the first mate snapped. "Who assigns you?"

    "My screen lists my duties at the beginning of each shift," Priscilla explained, keeping her voice even. "This shift, I was assigned to Tonee sig'Ella at Twelfth Hour."

    "Who is your supervisor?" Kayzin asked awfully.

    "Lina Faaldom."

    "Lina Faaldom. And it is your belief that a librarian has the authority necessary to assign you to the tower as a decoder of messages?" There was no mistaking the sarcasm.

    "She has apparently," Priscilla snapped, "had the authority to send me to the maintenance bay, the cargo holds, the