The Kif Strike Back

  “Affirmative.” She left Tully, walked over to Tirun’s side and leaned there.

  “Kif query,” Tirun said. “It’s Harukk.”

  Then the minuses of the trick came home to nest. “Respond: medical emergency. Injured crew.”

  Tirun relayed it. “We have a call already in—” Tirun added, reminder to the kif on the other end. And: “We understand that. Will you go on trying?” Another incoming-light lit. Haral snatched the call. “. . .Right. We got you. We’ll open for you. Captain, it’s the meds.”

  “Tell Hilfy intercept them as they come in. Tully—go help Geran. Go to Chur. Take Geran’s orders.”

  Tully went without question. It was off the bridge, it kept him from underfoot and he could fetch and carry if someone could get it through to him what was wanted. Loyal, she thought; he was that. Friend.

  And alien and dangerous as the mahendo’sat when matters got beneath his skin.

  * * *

  There was a coming and going belowdecks, grim mahen personnel bristling with weapons taking up station in the accessway, along the lowerdeck main corridor and at the lift.

  And on the upperdeck main, where a frowning Ehrran medic worked with a tall black Ksota mahendo’sat, and Chanur’s off-duty and motley assortment standing grim and glowering round the walls of Chur’s sickroom—two males, either one of whom might have raised the Ehrran’s hackles for completely different reasons; Geran Anify and Hilfy Chanur, Hilfy standing there with her hand consciously or unconsciously on the butt of a pistol. They went armed, with the airlock standing open under mahen guard; and it was not only the kif that concerned them.

  Pyanfar hovered by the door, with a complug in one ear, listening to operations as Tirun sorted them past.

  The medics exchanged surly technicalities. “No gods-rotted good,” the hani said; and Geran moved closer, hands in her belt and a frown clenching her jaw. “What isn’t good?”

  “Captain,” the medic protested, not for the first time. “I’d like this room cleared.”

  “That’s all right,” Pyanfar said from the doorway. “We’re all friends. I’m sure Chur doesn’t mind.”

  “Get them out of here—” With a look at The Pride’s two menfolk.

  “Why?” Pyanfar said. “You going to object to your professional colleague too?”—who was male, and mahendo’sat.

  The hani medic gave a bleak hard stare and turned and laid out supplies. Plainly she did object to males in medicine, whatever the species, and swallowed it.

  “Better be good,” Geran said.

  The medic hesitated with a bottle in her hand.

  “Mistake might damage your career real bad,” Hilfy said, hand still on the gunbutt.

  “I didn’t come here to take abuse and threats from junior crew.”

  “Better be right,” Chur said for herself, rousing herself to tilt her head back on the pillow and look at the drip stand the medic-assistants were setting up by her side. “Mahe, haosti.” Check it, will you?

  “Shishti,” the mahe agreed.

  The hani medic glared, and handed the bottles and the bags over to the mahe one by one. “Seals,” the hani said, pointing out the tops. “This woman never should have left Kshshti. By the gods she never should have sat a post—”

  “You going to quote us another regulation?” Khym asked in his deep rumble. “I’ll quote you laws. Like criminal negligence, malpractice, and kin-right.”

  “Get him out of here.”

  “Huh,” Pyanfar said, and leaned on the doorframe and turned with it at her back until she was in the hall.

  “Captain,” the voice came from com. “Medic down with Skkukuk says he’s fit enough. Says we got a diet problem with him, they want to send some stuff over.”

  “Live?”

  “They say—well, the things are real dumb and they breed fast.”

  Pyanfar grimaced. The skin between her shoulders drew tight. “Vermin, huh? What’s it eat?”

  A moment of silence. “I’ll ask.”

  She rolled back around the corner and looked into the room. Looked askance again when the lift door opened down the corridor and let in another band of mahendo’sat. For one moment the grim look of them sent Pyanfar’s hand instinctively to the gunbutt.

  Then recognition took over, and she flung herself from the doorframe and strode down the dead middle of the corridor.

  “Goldtooth!” she spat.

  “Ha, Pyanfar—” He was a black mahendo’sat, and he came in the somber black of his companions, not a flash of gold except when he smiled wide and glittery. He towered there in that dark company on whom the only metal was the black sheen of AP guns and belts and buckles. And the grin died a fast death. “Say Chur she all right, huh?”

  “No thanks to you, you rag-eared bastard!” She jerked the com-plug from her ear and looked up at his black, worried face. “I got my tail wrecked at Urtur, got my crew shot up at Kshshti—”

  “Message go.”

  “Yes, rot you, your gods-be message went. Banny Ayhar and Prosperity took it on, if she got through alive.” She recalled the open door and the Ehrran medic, snagged Goldtooth by a lanky, powerful arm and dragged him toward her own cabin. “Stay out!” she snapped at his gun-bearing escort as she opened the door and pulled Goldtooth inside.

  She closed it in the faces of his guards and turned and glared at him in the privacy and soundproofing of her own quarters. “So no more merchant. No more play-acting. This is your real face, huh, hunter-captain? Leave us a message at Urtur—head us at Jik and never tell us. You play games, you earless bastard, and we do the bleeding, all over Kshshti docks. You good-humor me right now and I’ll break your gods-be neck. Where have you been?”

  Goldtooth’s small ears were back. He had a different look than he was wont, no humor at all. “You want list?” His voice was hoarse and quiet, unlike himself. “Jik number one fool, Pyanfar, he fool listen to this kif.”

  A cold feeling settled into her, worse than before. “He’s your friend, gods rot it! You sent him after me at Kshshti. Didn’t you?”

  “I send. He friend. He same time number one fool. Maybe work, this thing. Maybe I fool, same.” Goldtooth sought a place to sit down and sank down on her rumpled bed, leaning back on one arm to look at her. “We got trouble, Pyanfar. Fool Jik talk tc’a. Knnn take tc’a. We got lot human ship, come Tt’a’va’o ‘bout now. We got human come in, got knnn disturb, got stsho disturb, got kif make fight—Jik know this Sikkukkut. He say—got beat Akkhtimakt. Sikkukkut do. Jik say this kif he be poor pro-vin-cial, going make big lousy mess deal with homeworld, lot longtime trouble. I think Jik wrong. I think he big wrong. This kif not small problem. Got number one hakkikt want be real friendly with mahendo’sat, with you—You watch, you watch, Pyanfar. Sikkukkut be no dumb kif.”

  “I don’t think he is.”

  “Fool. Big fool, Jik.”

  “So what are you doing here?”

  Goldtooth’s ears went up and back again. “Maybe try make kif lot busy. I come, go, hit here, there. I close kif route to Meetpoint. They lot upset.” A flash of gilded teeth. “Keep Akkhtimakt lot busy, a? That kif want my heart number one urgent, three time try.”

  “What’s Sikkukkut going to do now you’re here? Answer me that, huh?”

  “He got no grudge on me. I bring him lot sfik. Same you, hani. Same Jik. Same Vigilance. We give that kif so damn much sfik he eat whole Compact.”

  It made sense. It made an uncomfortable lot of sense.

  “So why did you come in?”

  The ears flicked. Dark mahen eyes half-lidded. “Maybe I got no more choice. Maybe Jik got whole thing.”

  A fist closed about her heart. “You’re lying to me, Goldtooth. I’ve had enough of it.”

  Long silence. “Maybe good thing one smart mahe come stand real close this kif, huh?”

  “You’re planning to kill him?”

  “A. You maybe got idea, hani.”

  “You think other kif haven’t tried?” r />
  “Kif no do. Kif no try. They kif, they want live, Pyanfar. We mahendo’sat, we little crazy, a? I tell you truth, Pyanfar. You talk that kif I die real slow. You know same, a?”

  “Gods, I don’t want to hear this! Don’t make me your co-conspirator!”

  “Old friend.”

  “Friend!” She strode over to her dressing table, unlatched the drawer and searched inside it for a small presentation box. Goldtooth had sat up straight; she tossed it and he caught it.

  “What this?”

  “Expensive present. From Stle stles stlen, your precious friend at Meetpoint. The stsho you told me to trust. A note. Go on. Read it. It’s short.”

  He opened the lid, unfolded the paper and his ears tightened against his skull. “Bastard!”

  “Gtst nearly Phased on me. Maybe he had a bad attack of treachery. Don’t trust Goldtooth. That piece of advice cost your government plenty. And that stsho bastard’s been dealing with Rhif Ehrran and the kif and the tc’a, I don’t doubt. And you. And me. And every landless daughter in the Compact’s been sniffing round for advantage. That son was real help, oh, yes! So was your stationmaster at Kshshti. Same gods-rotted kind of help as Stle stles stlen. Gods fry you, you sent me across the Compact like a gods-be lightning rod for every piece of doubledealing for forty lightyears round!”

  Goldtooth got to his feet. Tossed the case back. Pyanfar caught it, threw it in the drawer, slammed and latched it.

  “You got lot reason be upset, Pyanfar. But you got lot smart. You never ‘preciate same. You best damn captain Anuurn got. I got lot confidence you. You almost same good like me. Maybe better pilot, a?”

  “Oh, no. No you don’t. No more favors. Gods rot it, I got no more crew, I got a gods-be zoo! I got a human scan tech, a kif who neglected to present his papers, and they want to feed him little live vermin—”

  “You want mahe? Lend you number one fine fellow. Two, three guard.”

  On my ship? Fine fellow to report every move I make? “No thanks. I got enough on file with Vigilance. Taking on mahen crew would about do it, friend.”

  “You take. You got need. They take you order. Swear. I give you five.”

  “No. No way! I can handle it.”

  “We got lot trouble come. Akkhtimakt—he go Meetpoint.”

  “Oh, good gods—” It was credible. It was all too credible. The matter spread itself out like a piece of whole cloth. “He’s going to sell himself to Stle stles stlen.”

  “You right.”

  “Hani are allied with the other side!”

  “‘Cept you; ‘cept maybe Tahar. Friend.”

  Oaths failed her. She stood there staring up at Goldtooth; breath hung in her throat and the dark was all about them both. She coughed her throat clear and a shiver gathered in her gut and ran outward. “You,” she said finally, “you—”

  “You no fool, Pyanfar. You got brain. You, me, Jik—not matter look right; matter what we do. Akkhtimakt got hani, got stsho ally, he make them fool. Where hani guns, a? Two, three ship. Stsho got none. Got proverb, hani—you go bed with some people half hour you got hundred year kid, and he got kids and they got in-laws. Same make deal with kif when you got no gun.”

  She stood there silent, staring up at this mahe, this somber self Goldtooth never showed on docksides. I kill this kif, he had said. Deal and double-deal. He could do it. Strike at Sikkukkut after the whole fragile structure was built and it would all tumble into chaos again.

  More lives and ships. More years of hazard. And knnn with their black legs into it, weaving gods-knew-what about the fringes of the Compact, with humans trying to come and go.

  Mahendo’sat. He’s fighting for mahen survival. His whole species is in danger.

  And where’s hani survival?

  Not, for sure, with Akkhtimakt.

  She drew a deep breath and folded her arms. “So. So you got me listening, mahe. But you’d better know this: that tc’a the knnn snatched wasn’t the only thing we lost out of here. A stsho craft bolted Mkks, and it came this way, full sail for Meetpoint.”

  “Ah, no. Not Meetpoint. Go out Tt’av’a’o vector.” A small flash of gilt teeth. “Try maybe take short cut, a? To Llyene?”

  “Into the human ships?”

  “Xenophobe stsho got big surprise, a?”

  “The gods-rotted stsho are cozy with the tc’a, friend.”

  “Maybe we fix.”

  “O gods, gods, human lunacy’s catching—you’re playing tag with the knnn, you rag-eared bastard!”

  “That do be problem, true.”

  She stared into his dark eyes and had another cold moment of doubt. “More secrets? Where are the humans going, friend? Where next? Here? Meetpoint?”

  Goldtooth’s humor had fallen away like a shed cloak. He gazed at her long and thoughtfully. “Maybe we make deal with knnn. Maybe e-qui-librium. Tape you got, tape I give you at Meetpoint, you say Banny Ayhar take on—one thing in this tape be knnn record; hani, we got hope this thing get to Maing Tol. You courier knnn message.”

  “Good gods.”

  “Tully—he be cover for message. He know. And I know you take good care this human. He got paper say he crew of The Pride. You fight save him if you not fight for me.”

  “You bastard. You son of a—”

  “You listen.” He held up a hand and with the other reached into his belt-pouch.

  “What’s that?”

  “From Jik. You got fine new comp unit downstair, a? You feed this. Got code sort. You process our private message real good, you get talk to us. Ehrran not got.”

  “Best present I’ve had in a while.” She took it and tucked the envelope into her pocket.

  “Also,” Goldtooth said, “my medic get look stats on Chur Anify; we got piece equipment we bring aboard. Number one fine she go through jump. Same like be in hospital, give her all she need.”

  “Gods rot it, why didn’t Jik give us that at Mkks?”

  “He not got. This from Mahijiru. We big ship—got zonal command post. Big hospital. Aja Jin, he maybe more fast, Mahijiru got more crew—got need have this thing. Save few lives. Now you got need, a?” He set his hands on her shoulders, hard and heavy. “We settle detail later. I got go, not like be longtime off my ship. Damn lousy place, Kefk. But one thing more I give—” He reached into his belt pouch and took some other small thing from it, took her hand and hooked over her finger an earring, with one great perfect pearl.

  “Best I find. I owe you long time for welders, a? Come from Llyene oceans, number one most beau-ti-ful.”

  “Goldtooth—Ismehanan-min—” But for the second time words failed her, and Goldtooth laid his hand on the door switch. “You fine woman,” he said. “Beau-ti-ful thing belong you.”

  “Where are they going? Gods rot it, what’s their route?”

  “Always want talk business,” he sighed, and opened the door and walked out into the corridor.

  “Goldtooth, gods rot you—”

  She pursued to the doorway, stopped abruptly as a pair of mahendo’sat came dollying a large polystyrene crate past the door. Goldtooth pressed himself against the wall on the other side of the corridor till it passed, waved his hand cheerfully toward the crate that headed for Chur’s room. “There, see, we move quick. I promise. It be done.” He gave an engaging grin. “You trust. You trust, Pyanfar.”

  “Ismehanan-min—”

  “Chur do fine now,” Goldtooth said definitely, and walked off toward the lift, with a nod of his head gathering up his darkclad crew that hulked along on all sides of him, formidable and irresistible.

  She stood alone in the doorway with the pearl clenched in her hand. And felt entirely numb.

  Chapter 11

  “She’s not to get out of that bed,” the hani medic said. The Ehrran’s ears were back, her nose drawn taut about the nostrils as she stood in the corridor prepared to leave. She looked up at Pyanfar the half-hand of difference in their height. “Whatever you imply about my ethics, captain, I did the be
st for her I could do, and the mahendo’sat have moved in a gods-rotted expensive piece of equipment she’ll stay hooked up to during jump. It’ll take the load off her heart and kidneys and prevent any more deterioration. With luck—” Geran had showed up in the corridor and stood there with a face like thunder. “With luck she even may build back a little on the trip. Depends on a lot of things. You’re lucky this far. So is she. We don’t have that kind of resources. We can’t buy it.” There was bitterness in the woman, a tight jawed hani anger at outsider wealth, and the laws and agreements between mahendo’sat and stsho that forever shut hani out. And that was an old story Pyanfar well understood.

  “I appreciate your professional effort,” Pyanfar said quietly. And could not forbear adding: “And I do understand you, Ehrran.”

  “Thanks,” Geran said for her part. The word all but strangled on its way out.

  The hani medic nodded curtly and hitched the strap of her carry-sack higher on her shoulder as the mahen medic came out of the room. “She explain?” the mahe asked. “I hook up machine, she stay connect. No take off. You get list procedure. I leave supply in cabinet.”

  “She explained it. Yes. Thank you. Mashini-to, a?”

  “A.” The mahe grinned and bowed and swung off down main corridor with the hani slogging along beside, an unlikely pair headed for the lift. Mahen guards peeled themselves out of the corridor in their wake and followed, Goldtooth’s remaining intrusion withdrawing itself.

  Geran looked drawn and shaken. Silent even yet. Pyanfar put her hand on Geran’s shoulder. “Hey, she’s going to be all right. Best new-fangled stuff Iji’s come out with. Good as hospital. And more good news. I don’t think we’re pulling out of here real soon, not like we were afraid we might. Day or so, maybe. Maybe more. We know where Akkhtimakt is; I just got word from Goldtooth, and it looks like we’re going to have a little chance to breathe. There’s more to it than that, but for Chur’s sake it’s the best news we could come up with on short notice.”

  Geran said nothing. But her face went defenseless and ordinary as if she had come back to them finally. Pyanfar pressed with her hand and Geran drew a deep breath. “What did Goldtooth have to say?”