Free March: A Tale of Salmon and Swedes (The Glothic Tales Book 4) by Derek Haines Page A

with cheese, he immediately ordered a half dozen of all three.
    ‘Together, sir?’ the dumbfound waiter had asked, and was quite taken aback when March replied, ‘yes, and as quickly as you can. It’s rather important.’
    As Trys made her breakfast, she smiled as she recalled the evening and especially March’s meticulous note taking on his Q’muniktor, after tasting each dish that was served. She thought he might burst as they finally made it to dessert, such was the number of dishes served, but she had also noticed that March had been judicious, and had made no attempt to scoff down every serving. Once satisfied, he rested his cutlery and made his notes. Over coffee, when she asked him what his thoughts were about the meal, he was fervently of the belief that salmon, lobster, caviar and especially oysters were definitely products, which could be traded at a princely profit throughout the Twelve Sun Systems. When she had asked him about how he would go about obtaining sufficient quantities, bearing in mind the popularity of them all on Earth, he had explained that it would be easy; by offering to pay more than the current market value, which would still allow for a handsome profit for Gloth.
    ‘Simple economics,’ he had said, but then followed up immediately with the one flaw in his plan. ‘But shipping from here in tradable tonnage isn’t possible yet. I am sure that we could manipulate the market here to buy thousands of tons per day, and I know we have the wholesale markets available to sell even more than that, but to get it from one to the other is the problem.’
    When she had told him that this had been her problem since she had started her job on Earth, he had shrugged his shoulders and replied, ‘it’s only one tiny problem, and problems such as this can always be solved. One way or another.’
    She had to explain her reply, as he was not familiar with the expression, by hook or by crook, but once he understood, he smiled knowingly and nodded.
    Once she had finished her breakfast, she glanced at the kitchen clock and was surprised that it was well after nine, and that there was no sign of March as yet. When she considered how much he had eaten the evening before though, it was not a surprise that he may be having a little sleep-in. By ten she was a little concerned, but by midday she was worried enough to check her Q’muniktor and check his geoping location. It confirmed that he was still in his bedroom. By one, and still with no sign of him waking, she knocked on his bedroom door. No reply. She knocked again, waited, and knocked again. After five minutes of waiting, she turned the doorknob and opened the door slightly.
    ‘March? Are you awake?’
    No reply.
    She pushed the door open a little more and looked inside. His bed was made, very neatly, and sitting on top of it was his Q’muniktor. She entered and checked, finding the en suite door open, but no sign of March. When she turned, she looked down at his Q’muniktor, again with a little envy as she had when she had first seen it, because it was not only a much newer model than hers, but it was also made of solid gold. She bent down and tapped the screen with her finger in the faint hope that he may have forgotten to iris lock it. To her surprise he had, and the screen flashed on. She was nonplussed when she saw that it was an Internet page, and wondered how on earth he had managed to connect his Q’muniktor to the Net. But all that mattered little when she saw the page he had been reading. It was a music site carrying an advertisement.
    Buy Abba at the HMV store, Oxford Street.
    She hobbled back downstairs as fast as she could, grabbing her hat, handbag and walking stick, before she left for the short walk down to Oxford Street.
    Even though it was not far, it still took her aging legs nearly half an hour to make to the HMV store. Puffing a little, she strode up to the first cashier she could find.
    ‘Can I help you, m’am?’ a young woman