Free Trader's World by Charles Sheffield Page A

everyone else who's visiting seems to be staying here, and the four of us— just the four of us—will be wandering around the Darklands countryside?"
    "It does if you put it that way. What does it mean?"
    Mike had shrugged. "To me, not one thing. Maybe it will make more sense tomorrow."
    * * *
    But it didn't. Kiri had met the four of them after an early breakfast. This time he commandeered a smaller and more modern car for his use. Not long after sunup they were on their way.
    They headed north along the white-graveled road, following the riverbank. Within three or four miles the bare plain gave way to head-high scrub and tall, spiky grasses. The road headed inland at that point and cut straight through the dusty vegetation. Mike looked ahead with increasing anticipation as they approached the area of the silver spires; he was beginning for the first time to have some idea of their size. But while the car was still three or four miles away from them it came to a barrier of thornbush and wire. Inongo Kiri followed the curving road on a great semicircular detour.
    "An area it is not permitted to enter," he said blandly, in reply to Cesar Famares's question. "As Rasool Ilunga told you, the Ten Tribes are moving into a new era of technology. He wishes to protect the commercial value of our work."
    Melinda was again sitting in the rear, next to Mike. She caught his eye, and mouthed a question. Rockets?
    Mike nodded and settled back in his seat. Five hundred feet high? Six hundred? It was difficult to make a good assessment, with no reference objects available and no accurate idea of distance. But they were enormous.
    Most of the tour, for all its advance advertising by Inongo Kiri, proved a tantalizing disappointment. They followed the river for nearly a hundred miles, pausing to look at a Darklands agricultural station, where a hundred strange fruits and vegetables had been developed, then moving farther inland to walk through a high-pressure plant. Their visits to both facilities were no more than quick walk-throughs.
    "Of course, it is nothing like it will be in ten years." Inongo Kiri was keeping up a continuous and light-hearted commentary. He waved a white-gloved hand at the compressors and solar array. "This is only the beginning. We wish to be leaders in biology and exotic materials, to rival the Strines and the Chipponese in their own fields."
    "And the rockets?" Cesar asked. He had been brooding on the denied area ever since they had been diverted from it.
    "The—ah—rockets?" Kiri seemed taken aback by the sudden question.
    "They were rockets, weren't they? How do the Chipponese feel about that?"
    "Well—as a matter of fact . . . yes, they were rockets." Kiri had lost his composure. "Of course, as I said, that is a sensitive issue. We do not wish to reveal our capabilities prematurely. As soon as the time comes . . ."
    They drove on. But Inongo Kiri's flow of chatter had been stemmed. On the return journey he answered their questions but contributed little himself. The drive back to Coronation City was a quiet and thoughtful one.
    When they arrived the sun was on the western horizon, but the Trade Fair was still in full swing. They had time to tour the displays and observe that technology development was the big pitch. Biological developments were emphasized, along with pressure products. They saw synthetic gemstones, half an inch across, of unique color and purity. The visitors from the Unified Empire and the Economic Community were drooling over them. But the most interesting item was the one that was missing. At least half of the Darklands products would need a substantial capability to move materials to and from space. That aspect of operations was never mentioned.
    Cesar Famares had been standing in front of a diagram of an ultracentrifuge for a long time when Mike joined him. Cesar shook his head. "Look at those rotation rates. Better than anything you can buy from the Community or the Chips. I don't see how