confidence

“Don’t go to Collette” said the Doctor, suddenly.
Ice looked at him sharply but said nothing, and he repeated himself.
“Why?” I asked. It was a strange outburst, as we sat at the table after dinner. Em and Kon had already scuttled off, Caban was washing dishes and singing under his breath.
“We should go to Festia instead. I know we just came from there…no, I don’t want to be dropped off in Paquin, Captain.” he said, though he had given no signs of participating in the conversation. “I just think we’d be better off there. Make a better deal.”
“We already have a deal.” Caban responded finally, coming back toward the table with a damp towel in his hands. “Any particular reason why we shouldn’t be keeping it?”
“There is better money to be made,” he said, not explaining anything as he appealed to Ice’s quiet stare. He knew us too well.
“Are you in trouble on Collette?” I asked, theories surging in to explain his suspicious behavior and in my mind, nature. He shook his head, but I saw in his keen eyes the glint of half-truths.
“Those men on Agrafena don’t know what they’re talking about. There are better places to drop the cargo.”
“Well. That may be, Doc, but that’s not our business. I’m wondering how you know anything about the Runner trade on any planet, especially one you say you’ve never been to.” Caban spoke deliberately, and I could not help but admire the man’s intelligence, when it shone through.
“I haven’t been off-world, but that don’t mean I can’t know a thing or two about business. I’m telling you…I know. You don’t have to believe me, but I’m suggesting what is best for the crew.”
Caban’s eyes glanced into mine, and saw the reflected doubt there. “I understand, Doc. I’m just asking how you know.”
“I did a lot of trading on Festia.”
“Trading?”
“Trading. I know the value of what is in your crates, and if you want a better deal, I can get you one.”
“That means breaking the deal we’ve made.”
“With rusty junk-heap barons, Cap’n. I say we find out what we can get.” Ice spoke for the first time. “But how do you know what’s in the crates? If you’re a peeking sort I can fix your eyes, Doc.”
He smiled at her, which alarmed me more than anything else. Caban often coddled her threats, but never when she was serious. “I know.” he said, with his simple easy confidence.
“How?” I pressed, leaning toward him. He looked over at me, and his grin broadened. Then he stood up and walked to the cargo bay, the rest of us scrambling to our feet, our guns, and his heels.