Free Human Chronicles Part 2 Book 2: The Apex Predator by T. R. Harris

animosity for anything Expansion-related, he was surprised they would even use standard Juirean gravity ratings. The other odd thing about Lucon-Por was that it had a single landmass, and one not much larger than Australia on Earth. On this large island, lived over two billion people, making for very crowded conditions. What this also meant was that there was no extra space left for mining, farming or other common endeavors necessary for a population this large to sustain itself. Therefore, the natives of Lucon-Por relied almost solely on outside trade to provide them with the necessities of life.
    The Ifrit landed at the island’s main spaceport, already crowded with vessels because of its relatively small size for the number of craft that were coming and going. Even though the vast bulk of the trade ships were too large to land, they all sent shuttles, and in many cases, several at a time, bringing with them the items they carried for sale. On Convoy Day, the place was packed.
    Outside the landing field was what appeared to be a permanent flea-market, vast in scope and containing thousands of open-air booths and trade stations designed to process the constant flood of merchandise coming onto the planet. Riyad wondered how the Lucon-Pors got the money to pay for all these goods, since no one had mentioned what the natives sold back to the Guild. Since his role as a merchant-trader was only a cover, he didn’t have enough interest to inquire any further. Obviously, the natives did produce something of value otherwise all these traders wouldn’t be here all hocking their goods.
    Once the Ifrit had settled to the surface and the engines cooled, another alien – this one rather short and stocky with skin of a faint purplish color – arrived at the ship and immediately proceeded to enter into a heated argument with Ruszel. From the few words Riyad could pick out this was the permanent pilot and he was very upset that he was not to receive his commission. However, once Ruszel convinced him that his assignment would be for only a short return trip to Tel’or, the purple alien finally stopped protesting and eventually stalked off, dragging his long duffle bag behind him.
    Canos joined Riyad in the small cargo hold and surveyed his supply of medical monitors. Again, the young alien expressed his disbelief that all he had were these three hundred units. “Yes, they do appear to be very nice models. I will direct you to the proper section of the clearinghouse where I’m sure you will find a ready buyer. You do realize that if you had more of these units – and could complete the entire circuit – you could leave with almost half a million ruiens.”
    “No shit?”
    “You seem to use that phrase a lot in your native language, and although I have heard you explain the meaning to Ruszel, I fail to understand the origins of the saying.”
    Riyad smiled. “I, too, Canos; it’s just something that evolved over time.”
    Ruszel joined them in the hold. “The pilot is convinced we are returning to Tel’or, although he is not happy. He had been planning on the larger commission for the circuit. Now he will help guide local mining operations in the asteroids, an assignment that does not pay nearly as much as a trade circuit.”
    “So mining is how the natives make their money – their credits? I was beginning to wonder.”
    The aliens turned to each with expressions of confusion. Finally Canos responded. “Mining … no. That is simply a minor part of the economy, and traditionally carried out by larger, out-system firms.”
    “So how the hell do they make their credits?” Riyad was growing frustrated. He really didn’t care, but now he was determined to find out.
    “Slaves, Riyad. They sell slaves.”
    “No sh … I mean, is that true? And there’s a market for it within the nebula?”
    “Of course; Lucon slaves are much sought after, especially the females. They are compatible with over half the races in the Nebula,