"Rob Preece - Merchant prince of Arcadia" - читать интересную книгу автора (Preece Rob)

Fictionwise
www.fictionwise.com

Copyright ©2005 by Rob Preece
NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or
distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper
print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe
fines or imprisonment.
Chapter 1
"Where is that worthless sniveling pile of bat dung? I swear, this time he's gone too far. I'll rip off his head
and stuff it—"

"We're almost there, Captain."

Jake Borenski heard the commotion in the hall vaguely. He hunched over his computer, watched the
latest rumor swirl onto the display, and nodded. Commodity markets had topped. Time to
sell—everything.

His finger stabbed at the confirm button feeling the tiny prick as the computer sampled his DNA for
identity confirmation.

Are you sure you wish to proceed with this transaction? Since lost prehistory, computers had stupidly
asked this question rather than simply obeying instructions.

Jake glanced to see that he hadn't made any mistakes, bent to send the final confirmation—and was sent
flying into the corner of his room. “Uh—"

"I told you to have the cargo holds ready yesterday.” Captain Trabert's face had turned a rather
attractive shade of violet. Jake wondered if there was some way to capture the color and start a new
fashion statement back home.

He tried to pull his full attention from the commodity corner he'd discovered and to his job. “Uh, I'm
sorry. What did you say?"

"I said you cost me twenty million com-credits worth of silk tapestries. They're ruined because you didn't
do your job.” The captain picked him up and shook him. “Guess what? I'm taking it out of your hide."

Jake's computer beeped, signaling that it was still waiting for confirmation. Uh-oh.

He took a deep breath and tuned down the adrenalin running through his system. Twenty million would
take a bite out of his profits, but it would leave plenty more. “Just let me finish on the computer and I'll
pay you back, I swear it."

"Ha, ha, ha.” Trabert didn't have much of a sense of humor on the best of days. Today was a long shot
from Trabert's best day. “You'll pay me back with what? Your salary?” The older man grasped Jake's
ear and twisted.

"I've made a little money on commodities on the hyperboards. Let me close out my position and I'll pay
you."