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Updated: May 17, 2025
Only the problem now is how much cedar, lacquel bark, forsh weed, cinnamon do we have on board?" demanded Van Rycke. His sarcasm did not register with Weeks for the little man pushed by Dane and left the cabin to their surprise. In the quiet which followed they could hear the clatter of his boots on ladder rungs as he descended to the quarters of the engine room staff.
Jasper Weeks, the small wiper from the engine room detail, the third generation Venusian colonist whom the more vocal members of the Queen's complement were apt to forget upon occasion, seeing all eyes upon him, spoke though his voice was hardly above a hoarse whisper. "Cedar lacquel bark forsh weed " "Cinnamon," Mura added to the list. "Imported in small quantities " "Naturally!
But when he clicked open one of the compartments and handed the figurine it contained to the Captain, Dane understood the reason for now bringing forward the carvings. The majority of them were fashioned from a dull blue-gray wood and Dane knew that if he picked one up he would discover that it weighed close to nothing in his hand. That was lacquel bark the aromatic product of a Venusian vine.
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