“I have a nibble,” Lilliana told Galatea when the latter approached her the next day.
“A nibble? Oh, well, I suppose I should be grateful,” Galatea said. “Perhaps in another six days you’ll have found a morsel for me, or even a bite.”
“I mean, I have a query from someone about my offer to trade for GC-friendly foodstuffs,” Lilliana said.
“Oh? Well, what in space are you waiting for?” Galatea said. “Issue a response at once!”
“I have my doubts about the source,” Lilliana said. “Remember how I said that no one trades in Confederation food?”
“Yes, well, let’s not dwell on how wrong you were, or why,” Galatea said. “The important thing is you seize the opportunity in front of you now, while you still can.”
“I’m really not interested in who’s right or wrong, but I’m very curious about the why,” Lilliana said. “I was expecting to have to really work this, but I got a response almost right away… and the source seems more than a little sketchy.”
“Do you suspect somebody may be peddling counterfeit Galactic goods?”
“No, I really don’t,” Lilliana said. “Because like I said, there’d be almost no demand… and besides, this guy would have plenty of access to the real thing. He’s an officer—quartermaster, probably, or whatever the equivalent would be—on a Galactic Star Ship.”
“Well, there you have it,” Galatea said. “I doubt you could ask for a more reputable source than that.”
“Or a less likely one,” Lilliana said. “I’ve checked out his trade record, and he has a decent rep… but it’s all for small trades involving only currency and personal goods. The guy’s a collector, but he’s not sniffing around for anything in particular in response to my request for food.”
“So? You said yourself that the man has a decent reputation,” Galatea said. “And you have no reason to suspect that he doesn’t have access to the items in question. What exactly is holding you back?”
“My gut,” Lilliana said. “But that’s reason enough for me to at least slow down and exercise caution until I have something more to go on, either way.”
“Yes, well, I’m very happy that you have the privilege of listening to your ‘gut’,” Galatea said. “Mine, on the other hand, refuses to tell me anything until it has a decent meal in it.”
“Galatea, tell me honestly: could you imagine an officer of the Galactic Navy trading away ship’s stores on the open market?”
“Perhaps he needs the money to facilitate his other trades.”
“Then why hasn’t he done anything like this before?”
“You said it yourself, there isn’t a thriving trade in high-quality precision engineered foodstuffs,” Galatea said. “He sees the opportunity you’ve created and he’s jumping on it with both feet. He has what you need, you have what he needs… isn’t that how this virtual marketplace is supposed to function?”
“I don’t need it,” Lilliana said. “And I don’t want it if it’s going to come back and bite me in the ass. I’ve got the computer running a search of any laws we might be running afoul of. In the meantime, can you think of any reason the Galactic Navy might want to trace traders interested in their food?”
“I don’t know, perhaps the navy is running a marketing survey!” Galatea said. “Do you really expect me to starve to satisfy your fit of paranoia?”
“I’m willing to get you what you want, but only if I can protect the ship as a whole while I’m doing it,” Lilliana said. “Don’t worry, I already have a plan for taking advantage of the offer… if it’s genuine… without exposing us. If there’s only a small number of people offering something, sometimes middlemen will jump in and buy it up so they can sell it to the final customer at an inflated price.”
“And you’re going to wait around to see if that happens?”
“No, I’m going to do it myself.”
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