time enough for love-时间足够你爱(英文版)-第38部分

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　priest　was　forced　on　me。　I　had　to　be　meek　a　long　time；　which　ain't　my　style。　Maybe　Jesus　was　right　when　he　said　that　the　meek　shall　inherit　the　earth…but　they　inherit　very　small　plots；　about　six　feet　by　three。
　　
　　But　the　only　route　from　field　hand　to　freedom　lay　through　the　church　and　required　meekness　all　the　way；　so　that's　what　I　gave　'em。　Those　priests　had　weird　habits…　（9；300　words　omitted）
　　
　　…which　got　me　off　their　damned　pla　and　I　never　expected　to　go　back。
　　
　　…did　go　back　a　couple　of　centuries　later…freshly　rejuvenated　and　not　looking　anything　like　that　high　priest　whose　ship　had　been　lost　in　space。
　　
　　I　was　a　sky　merchant　again；　which　suits　me；　it　lets　you　travel　and　see　things。　I　went　back　to　Blessed　for　money；　not　revenge。　I've　never　wasted　skull　sweat　on　revenge；　The　te　de　Monte…Cristo　syndrome　is　too　much　work　and　not　enough　fun。　If　I　tangle　with　a　man　and　he　lives　through　it；　I　don't　e　back　later　gunning　for　him。　Instead；　I　outlive　him…which　balances　the　books　just　as　well。　I　figured　that　two　centuries　was　enough　for　my　enemies　on　Blessed　to　be　dead；　since　I　had　left　most　of　them　sort　of　dead　earlier。
　　
　　Blessed　would　not　have　been　on　my　route　other　than　for　business　reasons。　Interstellar　trade　is　economics　stripped　to　basics。　You　can't　make　money　by　making　money　because　money　isn't　money　other　than　on　its　pla　of　issue。　Most　money　is　fiat；　a　ship's　cargo　of　the　stuff　is　wastepaper　elsewhere。　Bank　credit　is　worth　even　less；　Galactic　distances　are　too　great。　Even　money　that　jingles　must　be　thought　of　as　trade　goods…not　money…or　you'll　kid　yourself　into　st？rvation。
　　
　　This　gives　the　sky　merchant　a　grasp　of　economics　rarely　achieved　by　bankers　or　professors。　He　is　engaged　in　barter　and　no　nonsense。　He　pays　taxes　he　can't　evade　and　doesn't　care　whether　they　are　called　〃excise〃　or　〃king's　pence〃　or　〃squeeze〃　or　straight…out　bribes。　It　is　the　other　kid's　bat　and　ball　and　backyard；　so　you　play　by　his　rules…nothing　to　get　in　a　sweat　about。　Respect　for　laws　is　a　pragmatic　matter。　Women　know　this　instinctively；　that's　why　they　are　all　smugglers。　Men　often　believe…or　pretend…that　the　〃Law〃　is　something　sacred；　or　at　least　a　science…an　unfounded　assumption　very　convenient　to　governments。
　　
　　I've　done　little　smuggling；　it's　risky；　and　you　can　wind　up　with　money　you　don't　dare　spend　where　it's　legal　tender。　I　simply　tried　to　avoid　places　where　the　squeeze　was　too　high。
　　
　　By　the　Law　of　Supply　and　Demand　a　thing　has　value　from　where　it　is　as　much　as　from　what　it　is…and　that's　what　a　merchant　does；　he　moves　things　from　where　they　are　cheap　to　where　they　are　worth　more。　A　smelly　nuisance　in　a　stable　is　valuable　fertilizer　if　you　move　it　to　the　south　forty。　Pebbles　on　one　pla　can　be　precious　gems　on　another。　The　art　in　selecting　cargo　lies　in　knowing　where　things　will　be　worth　more；　and　the　merchant　who　can　guess　right　can　reap　the　wealth　of　Midas　in　one　trip。　Or　guess　wrong　and　go　broke。
　　
　　I　was　on　Blessed　because　I　had　been　on　Landfall　and　wanted　to　go　to　Valhalla　in　order　to　go　back　to　Landfall；　as　I　was　thinking　of　marrying　and　raising　another　family。　But　I　wanted　to　be　rich　enough　to　be　landed　gentry　when　I　settled　down…which　I　was　not；　at　the　time。　All　I　had　was　the　scout　ship　Libby　and　I　had　used　and　a　modicum　of　local　money。
　　
　　So　it　was　time　to　trade。
　　
　　The　trade　routes　for　a　two…way　swap　show　minimum　profit；　they　fill　up　too　quickly。　But　a　triangular　trade…or　higher　numbers…can　show　high　profits。　Like　this：　Landfall　had　something…call　it　cheese…which　was　a　luxury　on　Blessed…　while　Blessed　produced…call　it　chalk…much　in　demand　on　Valhalla　。　。　。　whereas　Valhalla　manufactured　doohickeys　that　Landfall　needed。
　　
　　Work　this　in　the　right　direction　and　get　rich；　work　it　backwards　and　lose　your　shirt。
　　
　　I　had　worked　the　first　leg；　Landfall　to　Blessed；　successfully；　having　sold　my　cargo　of…　Now　what　was　it？　Durned　if　I　***
　　
　　*Sequence　of　events　cannot　be　reconciled。　Perhaps　a　similar　ship？　…
　　
　　…J。F。　45th　***
　　
　　remember；　I've　handled　so　many　things。　Anyhow；　I　got　such　a　nice　price　that　I　temporarily　had　too　much　money。
　　
　　How　much　is　〃too　much〃？　Whatever　you　can't　spend　before　you　leave　a　place　you　are　not　ing　back　to。　If　you　hang　onto　that　excess　and　e　back　later；　you　will　usually　find…invariably；　so　far　as　I　recall…that　inflation　or　war　or　taxes　or　changes　in　government　or　something　has　wiped　out　the　alleged　value　of　fiat　money　you　may　have　kept。
　　
　　As　my　ship　was　scheduled　to　load　and　I　had　placed　in　escrow　with　the　port　authority　the　price　of　her　cargo；　what　I　had　left　over　was　burning　a　hole　in　my　pocket　with　only　a　day　to　get　rid　of　it　that　being　the　time　until　my　ship　was　tq　be　loaded…I　had　to　be　on　hand　for　that；　I　was　my　own　purser　and　have　an　untrusting　disposition。
　　
　　So　I　took　a　walk　through　the　retail　district；　thinking　I　might　buy　some　doodads。
　　
　　I　was　dressed　in　local　high　style　and　had　a　bodyguard　behind　me；　for　Blessed　was　still　a　slave　economy　and　in　a　pyramidal　society　it　is　well　to　be　up　near　the　point；　or　at　least　look　like　it。　My　bodyguard　was　a　slave　but　not　my　slave；　I　had　hired　him　from　a　rent…a…servant　agency。　I'm　not　a　hypocrite；　this　slave　didn't　have　a　durn　thing　to　do　but　follow　me　around　and　eat　like　a　hog。
　　
　　I　had　him　because　my　assumed　status　required　a　manservant　in　sight。　A　〃gentleman〃　could　not　register　at　a　first…class　hilton　in　Charity　or　anywhere　on　Blessed　without　a　valet　in　evidence；　I　could　not　eat　in　a　good　restaurant　without　my　own　bearer　standing　behind　me…and　so　forth；　when　in　Rome；　you　shoot　Roman　candles。　I've　been　places　where　it　was　mandatory　to　sleep　with　your　hostess…which　can　be　dreadful；　this　Blessed　custom　wasn't　difficult。
　　
　　I　di？n't　rely　on　him　even　though　the　agency　supplied　him　with　a　knob　stick。　I　was　armed　six　ways　and　careful　where　I　walked；　Blessed　was　more　dangerous　than　it　had　been　when　I　was　a　slave　there　and　a　〃gentleman〃　is　more　of　a　target；　even　though　cops　don't　bother　him。
　　
　　I　was　taking　a　shortcut　through　the　slave　market；　it　not　being　an　auction　day；　on　my　way　to　the　jewelers'　lane；　when　I　saw　that　a　sale　was　being　offered　and　slowed　down…a　man　who　has　been　sold　himself　can't　walk　past；　indifferent　to　the　plight　of　chattels。　Nct　that　I　had　any　intention　of　buying。
　　
　　Nor　did　anyone　seem　about　to　buy　this　pair；　the　knot　around　the　factor's　tent　was　rabble；　I　could　tell　by　their　clothes　and　the　fact　that　there　wasn't　a　man　there　with　a　manservant。
　　
　　The　merchandise　was　standing　on　a　table；　a　young　woman　and　a　young　man。　Late　adolescence　for　him　and　just　ripe　for　her；　or　the　same　age　in　view　of　the　fact　that　females　grow　up　faster。　Call　it　eighteen　measured　by　my　own　youth…an　age　at　which　a　boy　should　be　nailed　into　a　barrel　and　fed　through　the　bunghole　but　a　girl　is　ready　to　marry。
　　
　　Long　sleeveless　robes　hung　from　their　shoulders…and　I　knew　too　well　what　those　robes　meant；　they　would　be　displayed　only　to　a　prospective　buyer；　not　to　rabble。　Robes　signified　valuable　slaves；　not　to　be　knocked　down　on　open　bid。
　　
　　Sure　enough；　they　were　being　held　at　Dutch　auction；　with　the　minimum　bid　posted…ten　thousand　blessings。　That　amounts　to…　How　can　I　define　money　of　centuries　back　on　a　pla　hundreds　of　light…years　away　in　terms　that　make　sense　here　and　now？　Let's　put　it　this　way：　Unless　these　kids　were　something　extraordinary；　they　were　overpriced　by　a　factor　of　five；　as　prime　young　stock；　either　sex；　were　fetching　around　a　thousand　blessings　by　the　morning's　financial　news。
　　
　　Ever　paused　in　front　of　a　clothing　store　…　and　get　hooked　inside？　No；　of　course　you　haven't。　But　that's　what　happened　to　me。
　　
　　All　I　did　was　say　to　the　factor；　〃Goodman；　is　that　posted　bid　a　mistake？　Or　do　these　two　have　something　special　that　doesn't　show？〃　Just　curiosity；　Minerva；　as　I　neither　intended　to　own　slaves　nor　would　the　excess　in　my　purse　make　a　dent　in　a　plawide　custom。　But　I　could　not　see　why？　The　girl　was　not　outstandingly　pretty；　she　would　not　fetch　a　high　price　as　an　odalisque。　The　lad　wasn't　even　heavily　muscled。　Nor　were　they　a　matched　pair。　Back　home　I　would　have　picked　her　for　Eyetalian　and　him　for　a　Swede。
　　
　　Boom；　I'm　urged　into　the　tent　while　the　chattels　are　shoved　ahead；　the　factor's　manner　shows　that　he　hasn't　had　a　live　one　all　day…while　my　shadow　is　saying　in　my　ear；　〃Master；　that　price　is　too　high。　I　can　take　you　to　a　private　sale　where　prices　are　right　and　satisfaction　is　guaranteed。〃
　　
　　I　said；　〃Shut　up；　Faithful〃…all　rented　body　servants　were　named　〃Faithful；〃　probably　by　contraries…〃I　want　to　see　what　this　is。〃
　　
　　As　fast　as　the　tent　flap　is　fastened　against　the　rabble；　the　factor　is　shoving　a　chair　against　my　knees　and　handing　me　a　drink　with　a　bow　and　a　scrape　while　saying　lyrically；　〃Oh；　sweet　and　gentle　master；　happy　am　I　that　you　asked　that！　I　am　about　to　show　you　a　great　wonder　of　science！　A　thing　to　astound　the　very　gods！　I　speak　as　a　pious　man；　a　true　son　of　our　Everlasting　Church；　one　who　cannot　lie！〃
　　
　　A　slave　factor　who　can't　lie　has　yet　to　be　whelped。　Meantime　the　youngsters　stationed　themselves　docilely　on　a　display　platform；　and　Faithful　was　whispering：　〃Don't　believe　a　word；　Master。　The　girl　is　nothing　and　I　can　whip　three　of　that　punk　without　my　stick…yet　the　agency　would　sell　you　me　for　eight　hundred　blessings　and　that's　a　fact。〃
　　
　　I　motioned　him　to　silence。　〃Goodman；　what　swindle　is　this？〃　'
　　
　　〃No　swindle；　on　my　mother's　honor；　kind　sir！　Would　you　believe　that　these　are　brother　and　sister？〃
　　
　　I　looked　at　them。　〃No。〃
　　
　　〃Would　you　believe　that　they　are　not　only　brother　and　sister　but　twins？〃
　　
　　〃Would　you　believe　the　same　stud；　the　same　dam；　the　same　womb；　born　the　same　hour？'
　　
　　〃Possibly　the　same　womb；〃　I　conceded。　〃Host…mother？〃
　　
　　〃No；　no！　Exactly　the　same　ancestry。　And　yet…here　is　the　miracle…〃　He　held　my　eye　and　s？oke　in　a　hushed　voice：
　　
　　〃They　are　nevertheless　a　sound　breeding　pair　。　。　for　these　twins　are　unrelated　to　each　other！　Would　you　believe　it？〃
　　
　　I　told　him　what　I　would　believe；　including　his　losing　his