“A tc’a.”
“That ship’s named So’oa’ai.”
Another small gesture of joined hands. “This is ominous.”
“Why?”
Skkukuk’s eyes went to her and Hilfy. The stink of unwashed hani and human was already on the bridge. Now there was a strong ammonia scent. “The methane folk are unpredictable.”
“Have you got reason to say that? They’ve been stirred up. Haven’t they?”
“Yes.” The ammonia reek was very strong. Kif sweat. “I advise caution. Don’t offend this thing. Don’t speak to it. Let it dock.”
“That’s what the station seems to be doing.”
“That’s the wisest thing.”
“We conduct our little disagreement in a crowded house, is that it?”
“Kkkt. That’s adequate. Yes. We do. There are always the methane folk.”
“What were you—before you offended Sikkukkut?”
“Skku to him. Subordinate.”
Her ears went back. She pricked them up again. “Friend of Akkhtimakt’s, huh?”
“Skku to him also.”
“You have one chance, kif, to tell all the truth in terms I understand. You play games with me and I’ll serve you back to Sikkukkut for dinner. After I give you to the human and my niece for their amusement. Hear?”
The kif’s head drew subtly lower between his shoulders. The hands lifted and fell. “I hear, hani.”
“Then tell the gods-be truth!”
“I’ve offered you my weapons. I will give you your enemies. Name them to me. Or let me hunt them out. I will lend you sfik. Hani can be fools.”
“So can kif, friend. What about that invitation from Kefk? Those ahead of us are going in. Sikkukkut says come in. Is it a trap, kif?”
“Of course it’s a trap!”
“Whose?”
“Sikkukkut’s. And theirs. No one is to be trusted. Keep your speed, blast all and run.” Thin hands spread as best they could. “Perhaps the station and its defenses would take out the rest. But strike Aja Jin and cripple him; Nomesteturjai would pursue you to the death. Harukk would be the lesser danger in those circumstances. Kif would desert the hakkikt in such an attack. But strike him if you have time, the same with Vigilance. Still—” The hands fell, the shoulders hunched. “Your ship lacks weapons; and hani would not respect your sfik. Do these things and go to the hakkikt Akkhtimakt. Bring him your weapons and he will welcome you.”
“Gods be,” Pyanfar said. Her fur bristled down her back. Her ears had lain down. She got them up again. By the kif’s shoulder, Khym stood with ears still flat. And Hilfy—
“He would,” Hilfy said. “Our kifish ally would do that. What’s he waiting for?”
“Shall I answer this person?”
“Answer her,” Pyanfar said, “and respect my crew, rot your guts. You belong to all of us.”
Again a hunch of the shoulders, a sinking of the hooded head. “I answer. Sikkukkut thinks he has sfik enough to lure Akkhtimakt to a place of his choosing. He thinks he has sfik enough that Kefk will offer him its weapons—”
“—meaning what?”
“—that. They will be part of his sfik. He will hold Kefk temporarily, beyond doubt. Possibly he will take it completely.”
“Make sense,” said Khym.
“It’s truth.” Skkukuk turned that way and theirs again, opening his narrow hands before him. “Am I to blame that Sikkukkut is a fool? And you lend him sfik. I nourish hope this is a strategem.”
“You hate Sikkukkut, huh?”
“I would spit him from my mouth.”
Her stomach turned. “How are we doing, Haral?”
“Steady on. Transmission from our lead still says come ahead. Other situations unchanged.”
Maybe there was time to put this atrocity safely back in its confinement. Maybe not. “Get him to a seat,” Pyanfar said to Khym and Hilfy: “Move. We don’t know what we’re into. Belt it in real tight.”
“There is no need. I tell you I could free myself.”
“See he doesn’t.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Skkukuk said, straightening as Khym took him by one arm and Hilfy moved to take the other.
“One moment,” Pyanfar said.
Motion stopped.
“Question,” Pyanfar said. “Is there a hani ship named Moon Rising with Akkhtimakt?”
“I’ve met them. Several times. Kif know this ship. They are—kthok kakatk kthi nankkhi sfikun—of diminishing sfik. They brought some of the sfik of Akkukkak to Akkhtimakt, but it wasn’t much by then. They’ve been of use. Ktoht-sfik. A good knife has that. But without ornateness. One values it. One can take another.”
Gods, the logic. “Go sit down. Trust me, kif.”
“The captain jokes. Further, I am hungry. I protest this treatment.”
Pyanfar hissed and sank into her chair.
“I wish to tell the captain—”
“Sit it down. And hurry it up.” Her back was still bristled; she looked back again, to see Hilfy and Khym drop the kif into observer four and jerk the restraints tight over his arms.
Tully looked her way. There was stark fear in his eyes. Observer four was a non-working post one seat removed from him—much too close, by Tully’s evident reckoning.
“I don’t blame you,” Pyanfar muttered. “Me too—” And louder: “You’ve got a job, Tully. Do it, huh? Work.”
“Aye,” Tully said, and swung about and glued himself to the scope. Chur muttered something to him. He muttered something back.
Pyanfar spun her chair about.
“Kif says it’s a trap,” Haral said.
“Figured that,” Pyanfar said. “From the start, didn’t we?”
“Sounded like good kifish advice.”
“I’m sure it is.”
A moment’s silence. “Wonder what Jik’s got in mind,” Haral said. And after a moment more: “Captain—that business about Vigilance I’ve got no trouble believing. I know Jik’s saved our necks before.”
“But?”
“But coming in here like this—captain, you ever remotely wonder if Jik’s been working the dark spots—a bit too long?”
“It occurs to me.” Pyanfar drew a deep, deep breath. “Occurs to me real strong lately. It’s going to be a lot stronger feeling on that dock.”
There was quiet on the bridge, except for the occasional beep from a system needing the crew’s attention. “Revert to posts?” Tirun queried.
“When you’re covered,” Haral said.
Seats whispered and hummed, Hilfy and Khym settling in. Ready-lights came live in the sorting-out of crew.
“Kkkk-kkt.” From the kif.
“Shut it down.” (Tirun’s voice.)
“Jik’s response,” Hilfy said. “He says to our query, just stay it. Vigilance says, quote: Follow orders.”
“No reply,” Pyanfar said.
So what’s Vigilance up to, huh? Ehrran was still going along with it—at this range.
And Jik with that ship at his side—
Strike first, the kif advised, knowing his own kind. Kif would.
A dire, ugly thought offered itself in the wake of that musing: that all chaos might break out just about the time those ships came in; among all those kif, with projectiles loosed, accidents might happen, ships losing track of where fire had been laid down—
—if things went wrong, if they were betrayed and shooting started—
A very easy accident. Like one hani ship running into the other’s fire.
—blast Vigilance’s vanes and leave them for the kif. Take out the witnesses and all those records—
It was not Chanur’s style. It was, gods help them, Sikkukkut’s own simple way.
—want make sure you not come ‘cross bow with Vigilance at Kefk—
Take out the witnesses.
With The Pride lost—there were piles of evidence and charges in Vigilance’s databanks. And Vigilance could go back to the han and offer it all uncontested, h
ow Chanur betrayed hani and the han. Take The Pride out and accuse Chanur, and let Kohan Chanur fall; then the carrion-lovers moved in and homeworld took the course Ehrran and her ilk longed for.
But accidents could go either direction—if the shooting started.
A gods-cursed kif put such thoughts into her head. Vigilance had no kif to advise them: could an Anuurn hani ever think of such a vile thing unhelped?
Out in the dark spots too long, Haral said of Jik.
Maybe, she thought, it described an aging hani captain all too well.
“We’re getting dock assignment,” Haral said at last, as if they were approaching any port in all the Compact. “Number 12. That’s Jik beyond Ehrran, Harukk way down the row.”
“Methane-side’s transmitting,” Tirun said, “docking for the tc’a.”
“Looks like a Compact standard setup,” Haral said while Pyanfar kept her attention on business. “Give or take the guns and the guardstations. No ship-names, rot their eyes. But we got a knnn in there, along with six tc’a.”
“I don’t like that,” Pyanfar said. “Gods, I don’t like that.”
A handful of tc’a in port and two more insystem, busy, doubtless, with tc’a/chi affairs, which was mostly mining and some cultivation, in their side of the station, of the cultures which methane-breathers relished, part furniture, part food. No threat there.
But anomalous behavior around a knnn—drew attention. Undoubtedly they had its notice. It was sitting still. Minding its own business. Watching, maybe, the curious madness of oxygen-breathers.
“Acknowledge the instruction,” Pyanfar said.
“Kkkkt.” From the kif.
They were far past the mark when they should have started realspace braking in any friendly system. Lagtime between themselves and Jik stayed constant. Between them and station collectively it had decreased.
Suddenly Jik’s number started ticking down.
“Jik’s group is braking,” Chur said in the same moment.
“We get a confirm on com,” Tirun said.
“Looks like here we go.”
“Transmission from Harukk,” Tirun said. “They want—get that!—orders to the kif to brake.”
“Priority: Aja Jin: Quote: Stay with the tc’a.”
“‘Stay with the tc’a,’” Haral muttered, switch-flicking. “Match moves with a polybrained gods-be snake—good gods. What’s he think we are?”
“A prime target,” Pyanfar said. “That’s what. He’s next to Sikkukkut. He wants us in the old snake’s shadow, right up to station. Like we were real cozy. I’m willing if it is.” She reached and snapped the restraints in place, chest-belt and arm-brace. “Snug in. Gods, Chur—you fit for this? Straight answer.”
“I’m fit. Soon be in this chair as walking that corridor back to quarters, I’ll tell you.”
“You play hero I’ll send you for a walk.” The tc’a-blip stayed steady on, ghosting along inertial as if it knew it served as shield. She reached for another concentrates packet, solids, this time. It tasted horrid. Her stomach rebelled and she shuddered. Beside her, Haral took the same opportunity, trying to keep reactions quick and brain functioning. By this time the hunter-ships were surely on their second shift of well-rested crews.
“The tc’a’s being real reasonable so far,” Haral said.
“Does it understand?” Khym asked from com. “Are those things ever friendly?”
“Those things do what they want and gods forbid it zigs or zags. It will when it gets to approach v.”
“Knnn, now,” Haral said, “have fewer rules.”
Vid came up on last-monitor, a collection of spheres and drivepack with five vanes irregularly spaced about it.
“That tc’a?” Tully asked.
“Closest you’ll ever want to see one in motion,” Haral said. “Yes, it’s tc’a.”
“Kkkt.” From Skkukuk. “Kkkkt. Kkkkt,” a soft droning, talking to himself.
Gods-rotted kif. Skkukuk’s advice was what Skkukuk would do. If he had the guts. The sfik. The self-assurance. Shoot anything that moved.
Loyalty was measured on that status-scale. Skku, the kifish word was. . . which meant vassal.
What’s Skkukuk mean, then? Faithful servant?
Slave?
“Skkukuk. Were you born with that name?”
A silence. “Kkkkt. No.” From across the bridge, out of its farthest corner. “I’ve had it seven years.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-six. Captain, I am in discomfort.”
Mysteries and mysteries.
Doubtless hani puzzled Skkukuk too.
“Kkkkt,” it said. “Kkkkt.”
“Kif, shut up.”
There was silence then.
“Tc’a,” Khym said in distress. “Hilfy, tc’a—”
Communications matrix came up on-screen. “Priority. It’s going to—”
The Pride yawed, and power slammed in. “Gods and thunders!” Pyanfar swore.
“—maneuver,” Hilfy said.
Stable again. Gods-be earless gods-be lunatic—a stream of profanity, holding the concentrates that wanted to crawl back up her throat.
Pyanfar shook. Steadied her arm. Heard Khym’s deep gasp. The Pride kept up the braking thrust.
Clang!
“Rock,” Haral said.
“No alarms,” Tirun said.
Two more rang off the hull. Ping. Boom.
“Daughter of a—!” Pyanfar kicked in the braking full.
“We’re sound,” Tirun said.
“Kif back there aren’t happy,” Geran said.
“Neither am I,” Pyanfar muttered. “Gods rot—”
The tc’a left them, rolled and slewed off in an approach maneuver that made sense to a multibrained snake.
She held course. “No following that. We’re on our own.”
“The tc’a’s transmitting,” Hilfy said. “We’re getting Aja Jin—”
Scan image crossed to main monitor. The lead ships were moving in on docking approach.
“Guard ship’s braking,” Haral said.
“Message from Harukk: Sikkukkut’s compliments and he invites our docking. Says Kefk has surrendered.”
“Tc’a—” said Khym.
“I’ve got it—” Hilfy’s voice, weak and strained. “That’s station, docking instructions for the tc’a.”
“Kkkkt.”
“Skkukuk.” Pyanfar shifted her eyes to look up at a reflection of the bridge. “What’s your opinion, huh?”
“The station has surrendered.”
“Where’s the trap now?”
“Kkkt. They will let you dock. Beware Sikkukkut. Beware your allies. Return my weapons, hani. Arm me with the best you have. I will be an advantage.”
“To which side?”
“Kkkt. To the side of advantage. Sikkukkut has none for me. Kkkotok kto ufikki Sikkukkutik nifikekk nok Akkhtimaktok kektkhikt nok nokktokme—kkkkt.”
Something about Akkhtimakt and meals and unique objects.
Her screen lit with a transcription, mute, from Hilfy’s post: Sikkukkut having derived service from me would find it a twice unique treasure to feast on me in the face of Akkhtimakt.
“Sounds like he’s got a problem,” Haral muttered, “if one could believe the son. Which I don’t, not half.”
“That’s confirmed from Jik,” Hilfy said. “Jik’s committing himself to dock. Harukk’s transmitting.”
“Gods rot it.” Pyanfar flexed her hand in the brace and laid her ears back. The pulse kept on hammering in her ears. “We’re fools. Gods-be kif station, gods-be lunatic mahe—” Where’s our shiplist, Jik?
“What’s he up to?” Haral asked. So Haral had thought much the same, in the secrecy of her old and wily heart, that at the last moment Jik might pull something.
“I don’t know. Hilfy; feed the schema down to Skkukuk’s screen.”
“Aye.”
“Does that look normal, kif?”
“The traf
fic is heavy here, but it often is. They give you no ship names.”
“No.”
“That is alarming.”
“Vigilance going in,” Khym said.
“That’s the one,” Haral said, “I wonder about.”
“Sure thought that son would bolt,” Tirun said.
“Skkukuk. What will they do?”
“They will surrender. Slowly. Testing sfik against sfik. Withholding the shiplist may be the station’s test of the hakkikt.”
“Or Sikkukkut’s order?”
“He has no motive to withhold it. The ships about us obey him. No, it’s a test of him. It will be an expensive test if they are not careful. Kukottki-skki pukkuk. Sikkukkut may interest himself to find the one who withstood him. Do you wish to gain sfik at Sikkukkut’s expense? Discover this fool on the station and kill him before Sikkukkut does. Captain, I tell you, it is a waste—”
“Priority!” Chur yelled, simultaneously with Tully. “System entry, ecliptic 23-45, v z-70-aught factor 9—”
Pyanfar’s heart stopped. A lurking ship was on a nine-g startup and headed in; a kifish beacon carried its image to them, and relayed as it came—“Relay on!” she ordered, and Hilfy already had the system set: the message went, calmly: “This is The Pride. We’ve got an incoming, Aja Jin. Take—”
And over-riding her own message: “Priority,” Hilfy said. “Aunt, it’s Mahijiru! That’s Goldtooth coming in! The kif—Harukk’s sending. Don’t fire, he’s telling his ships, don’t fire, it’s allied.”
Keep your speed, blast all and run, the kif advised. No one is to be trusted.
They were hani. Not kif. “Send,” Pyanfar said past the nausea in her throat. “Pride to Mahijiru. Gods fry you, Goldtooth, it’s about time you showed up!”
Chapter 9
Harukk went into dock; Aja Jin; Vigilance and the advance kif guard followed in final approach: “The hakkikt take dock now,” word came from Aja Jin then; and shortly after that docking a voice from Kefk central: “Oxygen-side traffic control will shut down briefly,” first in main-kifish and then in hani. “Pride of Chanur, this is Kefk central: oxygen-side traffic control will shut down transmission briefly and resume with Harukk personnel, compliments of the hakkikt Sikkukkut an’nikktukktin; methane-side operations will continue. Please stand by.”
“Skkukuk?” Pyanfar asked.