25
A QUICKENING TIDE
like whispers, rumors on a global scale. To the eye, it seemed that a concave sky was shimmering in endless shades of green and orange, gray and gold, peach and silver; all the colors of all the coins known to Man.
“We’ll sit over there, in the vendors’ gal-lery,” said Yerzuk, leading the way.
When they took their places, they sur-veyed the scene on a giant screen, found their lot on the index and waited for the bid-ding to start. They looked just like all the others from the Scutari there that day, priva-teers selling off an expensive piece of Fleet kit without the authorities’ knowledge or permission.
“You’re sweating,” said Yerzuk. “Stop it. Relax.”
“I am relaxed—I’m fine,” replied Du-rante.
“You don’t look relaxed. I’m going for coffee—want some?”
“No, it m
