Page 39 of Dancing for the Minotaur
“They know what they owe.”
She slowly turned her head.
“We literally just had this conversation.”
“Yes, but this company has done business with me before,” he protested.
“And?” Terra asked.
“And they have always paid.”
“Because somebody billed them!” she exclaimed. “But this time you didn’t bill them!”
Taurex considered this.
“Oh. It must have slipped my mind,” he said at last.
Terra rubbed both hands over her face and looked back at the screen.
Dear God. He wasn't bad at business–not exactly–that was becoming increasingly clear.
He was actually very good at the parts of business he understood. Looking through the contracts and shipping records, Terra could see that Intergalactic Imports was bringing in enormous amounts of revenue. Taurex had trade relationships with suppliers on at least a dozen alien worlds and customers all across the United States and the rest of the Earth.
The goods themselves fascinated her as well as their descriptions. There were crates of deep blue spice from a planet called Vessara, used by expensive restaurants because apparently a pinch could change flavor depending on temperature. There were rolls of fabric imported from somewhere called Trellex which adjusted to the wearer's body heat. There were gemstones that glowed faintly in darkness, medicinal plant extracts, rare hardwoods and several kinds of food Terra had never heard of.
“What is this?” she asked, clicking on a product description.
Taurex came closer and looked over her shoulder.
“Velorian dreamfruit. What about it?”
“What does it do?” Terra asked.
He shrugged.
“It produces mild euphoria when eaten.”
Terra gave him a startled look.
“Wait–you're importing drugs?”
His eyes widened.
“No, of course not. It’s a fruit.”
“A fruit that gets you high?” Terra probed.
He shook his head.
“Only pleasantly relaxed.”
She frowned.
“That doesn’t sound very good.”
“It is legal.” Taurex sounded defensive.
Terra raised her eyebrows.
