The shuttle was comfortably furnished ... especially so in First Class.

Several of the passengers had glanced askance at Talaren had strode to his seat for take off, Tomin a few steps behind. They hardly looked like conventional First Class travellers; Tomin was neatly but plainly dressed and, amongst his grizzled grey hair, the slave ring at the top of his right ear glinted noticeably. Talaren was wearing his oldest, most comfortable leather jacket and soft boots; he saw no point in buying new clothes until he got to Aquila itself and had chance to see what would be most acceptable ...

Still, no fewer than three stewards attempted to redirect him to the economy seats. By the third, Talaren was dangerous, although on the exterior he appeared as calm and polite as ever. Even when the steward ventured to suggest that although his Lordship would be well- accommodated in First Class, his slave might prefer to travel in Economy.

Talaren arched dark brows.

"I should think he would prefer to travel in First Class," he remarked. "Wouldn't you, given the choice?"

"Our Economy Class is perfectly acceptable," responded the steward with a sniff.

"Indeed," said Taleran pleasantly. "And therefore you charge your First Class passengers an extra thousand credits over the standing economy charge because ... ?"

Eventually, they left him alone with Tomin.

"Perhaps I should go back," growled Tomin.

"Don't be a fool," said Taleran. "Instead see if you can organise some wine ... "

While Tomin was gone, Taleran looked around the cabin with interest. Of the half-dozen passengers, four were clearly offworlders. Even the two who had adopted what must be Aquilan dress appeared stiff and uncomfortable. The remaining two were couriers, dressed in the discreet black and gold of Aquilan Colours. Taleran idly speculated on their mission ...

Then he looked again at the off-worlders. One was dressed in a bizarre combination of shades and colours, as though he had heard of Aquilan livery - and had then gone away and invented his own. No Aquilan House, however, had chosen to inflict on itself a colour combination of green, purple and pink - at least, not as far as Taleran could remember.

The other off-worlder was, by his clothes, an Anderon, dressed in the sombre combinmation of maroon, black and white. But he seemed ill- equipped for this short of travel ... and appeared uncomfortable.

Ah well, Anderon. Taleran was not prepared to waste much sympathy on a representative of that particular House. He lay back in the reclining seat and waiting for Tomin to bring the wine ...

Basil squirmed in his seat. On all of his previous flights, he'd been in Mederes ships. Those were slow, long trips, so everyone had had quarters, whether private or shared. This common cabin was larger than his quarters had ever been, but with only this seat to call his, it felt much smaller.

Finally, he got up and began wandering the cabin. Asking questions of the crew got him only the barest, least useful answers (though always painfully polite). He scanned the other passengers. Unfortunately, he didn't have any idea what Aquilan dress looked like. The two in black and
gold looked like functionaries of some sort; they might be worth talking to at some point, but not right now.

The fellow with the slave...that was interesting. He'd seen the reactions of the crew, and it was clear that it was thoroughly unexpected, highly unusual to bring a slave in First Class. Unusual meant interesting, and often meant profitable, potentially.

He went over to Talaren and leaned against a nearby seat. "Hello... I saw the trouble you were having with the stewards. You'd think they'd listen to the customer, wouldn't you? It costs enough. I was curious, though. Is it that he's been with you a long time and you like to treat him well, is he a bodyguard, or what? Oh, my name's Basil, by the way. Are you from Aquila, or have you at least been there before?"

Basil realized he was doing it again. He made an effort and brought his mouth under control. There was so much he needed to know, but he couldn't ask it all at once.

Talaren looked at the stranger thoughtfully. Aquilan he might be, but not a native of the planet ... he was too unaware of the protocols. Should he explain, or should he let this Anderon blunder on - until someone took real offence?

Talaren shrugged. He was feeling generous. He gestured to a seat opposite him, and waited for Basil to sit down.

"Tomin is my companion - he travels with me. That means that sometimes he will ride on a mule and sleep under the stars ... at other times he will will tramp thirty miles in the rain at my side and make his bed in a smokey tavern in a remote village where we'll both be bitten half to death by fleas. If he shares this discomfort, I think it only fair that he shares the finer things of life ... when they are on offer. Don't you?"

Basil nods quickly. "Oh, it certainly seems quite fair, phrased that way. I'd have to say that most people don't seem too concerned with fairness, though...except when it's themselves on the short end of a deal."

"And on Aquila," Talaren added mildly, "one doesn't make allusions to another's status ... no more than you would remark on his being blind ... or lacking an arm."

Basil looks suddenly intent, giving one sharp nod. "Ah, right. My apologies for that. Where I'm from...such care is not always taken, exactly."

Talaren shrugged again. "At least ... so I believe. I have not seen the place for many years ... and then only briefly."

"Hmm. Well, you still know more of the place than I do, I'm afraid." He grinned and made a sort of half-shrug. "I certainly hope to learn more, and quickly. I'm afraid I'll make more...um, missteps as I just did..."

Tomin came back at this point, accompanied by the stewardess, who bore a tray with a decanter and two glasses. Tomin hesitated on seeing Michael, glancing at Taleran. The younger man nodded, and Tomin sat.

"Bring a third glass," said Taleran to the stewardess, pouring the wine for himself and Basil.

He offered the glass, saying, "I'm Lord Taleran Bahlmis. Tell me, which branch of Anderon are you from?"

Basil accepted the glass as he blinked rapidly. "Bahlmis? Why...wait. Anderon...I've heard that before. Oh yes, mother mentioned that name. I'm not an Anderon at all, I'm a Bahlmis, just as yourself. Basil Mederes-Bahlmis, to be more precise. Frankly, I'd never thought anything of the connection until I got the letter...did you receive one as well? It seems like too big a coincidence for us both to be coming in like this otherwise. Why'd you take me for an Anderon? Is it my face? I take mainly after my father, though they say I've something of my mother around the eyes."

He paused briefly, lifted his glass up in a sharp gesture. "Cheers," he said, taking a series of quick sips.

Talaren raised his eyebrows.

"Bahlmis? Then ... er ... why are you wearing Anderon colours? It could lead to some confusion ... and make you more than a little unpopular ... "

Basil's eyes went very wide. He stared down at his clothes. "Anderon ... colours? Oh hell. Of all the lossy things..."

"Mederes ... " Talaren went on slowly. "Mederes ... ahhh ... yes. Cousin Glemma married a Mederes, I believe. And she would be your mother? Is she well?"

Basil looked up from his appraisal of his traitorous clothes. "Well, she was doing fine a few months ago, the last time I saw her. She... travels a lot. Once I was grown, the Station seemed to be too small for her, and she set out to see the hot spots of the Empire."

"You must forgive me," Talaren added apologetically. "I've been out of the family gossip most of my life. Aunt Rosalor has been my only correspondent, and as neither of us were particularly concerned with family politics, our discussions tended to be on other issues."

"But yes, I received a letter ... like you. And it is drawing me to Aquila ... "

"Well, mother never had too much to say about Aquila...obviously, or I'd never have worn this outfit. I'm going to have to change before we get there. Mmm. Mother always wore whatever struck her fancy. What are Bahlmis colors, anyway?" His eyes flickered over Talaren and Tolmin, dismissing their clothes as likely candidates for the colors. They looked chosen more for comfort than for display.

Talren smiled. "Red, blue and white, I'm afraid. A little vivid for everyday wear. To be honest, you don't have to wear House colours - as you see. But it's not a good idea to wear those of another House - it's the combination that does it ... "

Basil nodded once, sharply, and yanked a datapad from one of his pockets. Though the arrangement of papers, chips and sundry other items looked haphazard, he knew exactly where everything was. He made a quick entry of something, then looked up. "Mmm. Don't think I can throw that combo together at the moment, though I certainly don't want to show up like _this_. Say, who wears black and gold?" He made a quick sideways jerk of his head towards the passengers in said colors.

"Maun," said Talaren, in some amusement. "The ... er ... ruling family. For a Bahlmis to wear their colours at the moment would be tantamount to treason - apparently they did it to stage the coup."

Basil blinked. "Ah. Too bad. It's a nice combination." The datapad came out, more notations were made. He looked down at himself. "Black and white should be okay, right? I'll ditch the shirt, pull out my second best."

Talaren poured some more wine for them both.

"Mmm. And you say you've been in correspondence with Rosalor before this? That's got to put you a leg up on me. If you haven't been talking about family, what have you been talking about? And what's she like? Mother said a few things, but I think she had some very selective optical filters
implanted at a young age. Mm. If I'm the son of 'Cousin Glemma,' what does that make our relationship? First cousins, once removed? I'd have thought we're too close in age for that. Wait, that'd only be if you were mother's first cousin. Secound cousins could work out." He paused in the middle of his rambling. "Say, just how do the Bahlmis feel about these Anderons, anyway?"

"It might be more to the point to ask how Anderon feels about Bahlmis," said Talaren, a little bleakly. "As far as I can judge, our noble family dabbled once more in politics ... and on the murky side. In short, a coup - we attempted to oust the Duke, and to bring down his First Minister, Lord Delan Anderon. His young sister was taken prisoner at one point, I believe ... "

"From all I have heard, the Anderons are a fairly repellent brood. Evil, aggressive, cruel. But ... they are beloved of the people - and they are in the ascendancy on Aquila."

Basil shrugged. "Life all over. The Ici family back on Alice Station are a thorough bunch of lossy bastards, but they know how to spread the lube around, and they've got most of the unions in their pocket."

Talaren looked thoughtfully at Basil.

"This," he said, "is probably not going to be easy."

"Tell me, what's your experience of low tech worlds? Do you, for example, ride? Fence?"

Basil stared blankly. "Ride? Ride what? I'm fairly adept at an ion bike, but they're useless in gravity wells. And fencing...I've seen it on the vids, but that's as far as it goes. Low tech worlds...this
will be my first world, period.!"

He jabbed sharply with an index finger at a point in midair that certainly didn't deserve it. "This is why I hate going into anything blind. There're a million things I don't know about Aquila, and I don't even know what it is I don't know. I mean, swords. Well, I suppose I could have put some of that together. One of the few things I could dig up was the ban on importing guns, and if you block one way for folks to kill each other, they'll find another. Mmm. From the vids, I gather that swordplay's more of a plaything for the rich, on the higher-tech worlds. I wonder if there'd be a niche market there...swords from a world where they're a matter of life and death might have an appeal to some aristo looking for something to spend his money on."

Talaren had been listening to all this with an increasingly broadening grin.

Basil's gaze had been defocussing as he rambled on, but suddenly his eyes snapped back to a focus on Talaren's face. "Where were we? ... Oh, that's right, you were asking me about low tech worlds. Well, as I said, I'm pretty much a blank slate there. How about yourself? You said you'd left Aquila a long time ago, where have you been spending those years?"

"I've travelled a bit," said Talaren slowly, the grin still there, "but my home world is Caelocanth. And ... ah ... you could describe it as low tech."

A snort sounded from Tomin. Talaren ignored it, but for a slight twitching of his lips.

"It's a colony world," he explained. "Only recently opened up. And it's one of the DNH charter worlds."

Basil's expression was puzzled; that was faintly familiar, but he couldn't place it. His face went blank, and his eyes darted up and to the left, then to the right. It looked rather like he was scanning a giant
invisible set of notes held somewhere above eye level, and apparently not finding anything.

He saw Basil's expression and went on. "Do No Harm. One neither takes nor adds to the environment. Everything used must be from a renewable source. It ... er ... has an interesting effect on development."

Tomin snorted again.

Basil's expression was appalled. "Nothing in and nothing out? That's, that's totally trade-dead! None of the benefits of being part of the community of worlds, and contributing nothing, either!" He shook his head, clearly baffled by the concept.

"I guess you could describe it as low tech," said Talaren blandly.

A klaxon sounded, and Talaren stretched, still seated.

"We're entering atmosphere," he said. "Time to strap in."

His eyes rested again on Basil's data pad, and his lips twitched.

"Do you have a security licence for that?" he asked. "Otherwise you won't get it through security ... or any other high tech tools you may be carrying ... "

Basil blinked. "It's worse than just no guns?" He shook his head as he fiddled with the straps. "Customs. Every freighter crew I've talked to hates going through Customs. This is going to be painful, I just know it."

"I tell you what," Talaren suggested, "I'll meet you the other side of the barrier - and we can get a carriage to Bahlmis House together ... "

Basil nodded morosely. "Sounds like a good idea. I'm beginning to think that without help I won't make it out of the spaceport in less than a week."

End of Chapter 2