Free Laldasa by Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff Page A

firstrefusal on all output. In convoluted language, it barred Avasans from selling their ores directly to KNC customers, from setting up their own refineries and even from shipping their freight on any but Kasi-Nawahr vessels. There was, of course, a perfectly good rationale for each provision. The KNC was merely protecting the interests of its customers and the economy of Mehtar.
    Jaya scanned the faces of his fellow Varmana and wondered how many of them understood what was couched so carefully among the twisted clauses. It was clear the Deva Radha did. The pensive disapproval on her dark face as she accepted a copy of the document from KNC Speaker Duran Prakash was eloquent; her fingers seemed to disdain the touch of the light-tablet as he placed it in her hand.
    â€œWe will, of course, thoroughly review this document at length before coming to any decision regarding its merit.” She handed the tablet to one of the Vrinda Varma’s couriers to have it downloaded to the Council data system, then faced Prakash. “Have you anything further to add to this reading?”
    The man smiled, teeth glistening as if oiled, and Jaya tried not to imagine his mother kissing him.
    â€œOnly to comment, Deva, that the Consortium is confident your decision will not allow the forces of anarchy to rob Mehtar of its greatest resource.”
    â€œWhether this petition is granted or not,” said the Deva, “we will certainly not allow the forces of anarchy to rob Mehtar of anything.”
    Jaya’s mouth twitched. Deva Radha had a delightful way with words ... and eyes. Just now she had locked hers with Prakash’s and held him standing before her dais like a stick doll on a string.
    Finally, she released him to glance at her notes. “You may return to your quarter.” She looked to the AGIM box on the left end of the semi-circular room. “We will now hear the presentation of the Avasan Guild of Independent Miners.”
    The AGIM representative rose and strode to the central witness box.
    â€œPritam-sama.” The Deva acknowledged him. “We expected Rokh Nadim to speak on behalf of the Guild. Where is he?”
    The room was silent but for the shuffling of feet and paper, and Taffik Pritam used that silence to dramatic advantage. Mounting the docket, he scanned the curving chamber, his eyes striking the faces of the Varmana like a pale blast of winter wind. He made a full circle with those freezing eyes, the bells at the hem of his prayer sash singing in a soft, holy whisper.
    The windroughened face turned at last to the KNC quarter. His arm rose with the sudden thrust of an accusing finger directly at Duran Prakash and the Vice-director of the Kasi-Nawhar board, Ranjan Vrksa. The tiny bells let out a burst of song. “They know why Rokh Nadim is not here, Deva. He’s not here because he’s not safe on Mehtar. His life has been threatened, not once, but several times; it has been made clear to him that if he were to come to Mehtar, misfortune would befall him.”
    At a look from Vrksa’s frigid eyes, the KNC Speaker came languidly to his feet. “And do you suggest, sama, that we are responsible for these alleged threats?”
    â€œI do not suggest such a thing, sama, I accuse.”
    Jaya sat forward in his seat, along with nearly every other Varmana.
    â€œThis is a serious charge, Taffik Pritam,” said the Deva Radha.
    â€œI have others to go with it,” he returned. “First, they cut off our supplies, forcing us to the expense of sending to Mehtar for the most basic equipment. Then they refused to let our vessels transport that equipment to Avasa. Then they prohibited their freighters from carrying it unless a member of the Guild accompanied the shipment—as a paying passenger. Our earnings do not run to frequent space passage, Deva. When we pooled our resources, sending one Guilder to stand for collective orders, we were told that every Guilder who