Chanur's Venture

  He drew a great breath, looked up at her as if to see whether she understood his babble, and there was pain in his expression.

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  "Politics," she said. "And protocols. Same there, huh?"

  He blinked, confused.

  "Go on."

  "Goldtooth want talk me. Want me go Goldtooth ship. I say go find you, you friend, good friend. Not know Goldtooth. Want help. Want you talk these mahe."

  "That bastard."

  Another blink of sky-blue eyes.

  "So," she muttered, "the mahe wanted you, huh? And set up a rendezvous.

  Wanted you. Someone they could talk to. Someone who would talk, huh?

  What about that paper? What's in it? Why Maing Tol?"

  "I spacer." Tully's mouth trembled in that way he had when he was upset.

  "I never say I #, Pyanfar."

  "What about the paper, Tully? Whose is it? What's in it?"

  " Ijir meet Goldtooth, he say make paper— same paper human on Ijir got—"

  "Copy the paper, you mean."

  His head bobbed vehemently. "Same. Yes. Say he take me go find you, go talk stsho, go bring paper Maing Tol, help human—" He held up the hand that bore the ring. "Kif got them. Kif got Ijir, got paper same you got—"

  "How long time?"

  He shook his head. "I don't know." His look grew desperate. "I ask come hani, ask, ask many time. Goldtooth friend? He friend, Pyanfar?"

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  "Good question," she said, and puzzled him. She reached and patted his shoulder, tapped him with a clawtip. "Safe, understand. Tell me. Why Maing Tol? And why me?"

  He shivered, palpably, and reached across the table to grip her retreating hand, ignoring the reflexive jerk of claws. "Big trouble. Lot human ship, lot go Maing Tol soon."

  "Across kif space? There's knnn out there! How many ship, huh, how many human ships are you talking about? Three? Four? More than that?"

  "Paper say— we make stop kif come human space, take human ship. But Goldtooth say me— Goldtooth say— think now maybe not kif got human ship. Maybe knnn."

  "O good gods." The heart sank in her. If there had been a bench under her she would have sat down. As it was she just stared.

  "Goldtooth say message got go Maing Tol make stop mahe, make stop kif, go fight—"

  " Fight? Gods-rotted humanity can't tell knnn from kif?"

  "Not."

  "Well, for the gods' sake you know knnn! Did you tell them, did you tell them the difference?"

  "Who I? They don't hear. Shut up, Tully. I'm small person, small, not #, Pyanfar!"

  "Gods and thunders."

  "Pyanfar—"

  "Lunatics!"

  "Goldtooth friend?" he asked again. "I do good?"

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  She stared at him a long, long time and he just looked scared. Scared and on the other side of a half-functioning translator. And the gulf of other minds.

  "Goldtooth's mahendo'sat," she said flatly. "And he's got a Personage breathing down his neck. They went to get you, friend, because they wanted trade. I'll bet on that. And those human ships weren't getting through. Ijir's no common trader, no way. They wanted to get you to a rendezvous— find out what humanity's up to. That was the game. But they found out too gods-rotted much and now Goldtooth's scared. Scared, understand? Kif, the mahe can handle. But if knnn have their small black feet in this— o gods, Tully— you lunatics."

  "Got lot ship come— lot, Pyanfar. Got fight kif, got make stop knnn."

  " No one fights the knnn! Gods and thunders, you don't pick a fight with something you can't talk to!"

  Wide eyes looked back at her in distress.

  "Where's Goldtooth, Tully? You know?"

  A shake of an uncomprehending head.

  "Huh." She shoved back from the table feeling her knees gone jellylike.

  And still that blue-eyed stare was on her. Lost.

  Don't go to the han, Goldtooth had said; and Beware of Goldtooth— from Goldtooth's stsho ally—

  With Vigilance in the selfsame port.

  Suspicions occurred to her, vague and circular, that the han ship might have gotten wind of the clearing of Chanur papers, of mahen money passed to stsho—

  — that that ship's presence and Goldtooth's might have had connections Goldtooth would not say... Han/ mahen consultations. Stsho like Stle stles stlen, with slippered feet well into it....

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  And self-interested betrayals, at more than financial depths—

  Knnn. Gods, stsho the ultimate xenophobes, and knnn the ultimate reason... living right next door— living, or traveling, or whatever it was knnn did with those ships of theirs.

  Perhaps, hani had whispered, stung by stsho references to the mahendo'sat bringing hani into space to balance kif—

  — perhaps a great deal that the stsho knew came from methane-breathers.

  Tc'a were likely. But had limbless serpents originated their own tech?

  Or had chi, who might be parasites— or slaves— or pets— to the tc'a? Not likely.

  Goldtooth had reason to run scared. And being mahe he had done a mahen thing: he had gone for the contacts that he knew. Same as the whole mahen species had: bring Tully. Go get him. While with trouble in the offing Goldtooth had wanted her. Not the han. Not Ehrran. The han knew the mahendo'sat, by the gods: it was why the law existed against taking foreign hire. Mahendo'sat went for Personage. For the Known Quantity.

  They set up powers. Tore them down. Tied hani rules in knots and brought down powers by ignoring them in crises.

  Here's unlimited credit— friend. Tell us what you know. Same as they worked on humans.

  Send for Tully.

  Gods, they'd drained him dry. Even kif had failed at that.

  ( I do good? Tully asked. With that blue-flower stare.) They had her by the beard, that was sure. Had her, and maybe Stle stles stlen himself.

  Until humanity launched ships at the Compact, and knnn objected.

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  "Trouble?" Tully asked.

  She lifted her ears, turned on him the blandest of looks. "We'll fix it. Just go back to your quarters, huh?"

  "I spacer. I work." He patted his pocket. "Got paper, Py-an-far."

  He did. That was truth. Citizen of the Compact, licensed spacer. More mahen maneuverings. He could not handle controls. He needed a pick to reach the buttons and he was illiterate in hani.

  So they locked him up below and shoved him this way and that. He had looked for better from them. Gods knew he must have looked for better.

  " Na Khym's aboard," she said, feeling the flush all the way to her ears.

  " Male, Tully."

  "Friend."

  The flush went hotter. "As long as you aren't in the same room, fine. Go where you like. Just stay out of his way. Males are different. Don't argue with him. Don't talk to him if you can avoid it. Just duck your head and for godssakes keep your hands off him and us."

  Blankest confusion.

  "Hear?"

  "Yes," he said.

  "Get." She turned him loose and watched him go for the bridge.

  She waited for the explosion— realized she was waiting, claws flexed, and drew them in. There was the dust-whisper, high-pitched with their velocity, reminding her of movement, of The Pride's hurtling toward a jump she had to make now.

  No way out but that.

  * * *

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  The bridge lights were still on, with all of them snatching sleep where they could, going back to quarters for rotating breaks and coming back to the paper-snowed number-two counter, while the dust whispered and the occasional impact of larger fragments hit the hull. ("We'll shine like a new spoon when we get through this," Hilfy had said early on; "We'll be cratered like Gaohn," Tirun had replied, which they were not yet.) The
dust screamed now and again, v-differential. Now and again The Pride's particle-sensors and automated systems sent the trim jets into action, little instabilities in g which put a stagger into a walk down a corridor. Now and again The Pride's scan showed her something major and the ship moved to take care of it.

  But hani work went on too. And human: a section of the comp still had the working light on that meant Tully was still at it, doing what he could do—working away with linguistics from his terminal in his quarters. He hunted words. Equivalencies. Fought the translator into fewer gaps and spits.

  Learned hani. That was what he did, far into the hours.

  And Khym, shambling red-eyed and shivering from out the corridor—errand to the so-called heated hold: "Got the stores moved down," he said, and cast a worried eye over boards he could not read, at backs turned to him and work still underway. "Go on to bed," Pyanfar said. "Hot bath.

  You've done all you can."

  "We're still in trouble, aren't we?"

  "We're working on it. Go. Go on. Need you later. Get some sleep."

  He went, silent, with one backward, worried glance.

  She sighed. Heard other sighs from crew, rubbed her aching eyes and felt a twinge of shame.

  "Suppose he secured that?" Tirun wondered.

  "He'll remember." But there were his habits in galley— dishes left, a cabinet latch undone. She walked over and keyed in security check. All doors showed closed and a sense of panic still gnawed at her.

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  On the monitors the numbers still rolled up bleak information. Constant operation. No matter what they tried. They went deeper into the dust, into the well, and station information showed four kif docked, one loose and outward bound, two mahen freighters and six tc'a miner/processors.

  Bad odds.

  "Gods rot." From Haral.

  Another theory failed.

  * * *

  "Go on break," she muttered, back on the bridge the third time, finding Tirun still in the huddle of three heads round the console: Hilfy had changed with Chur; and Haral was back after shift with Geran; while she had stood two straight herself. "Gods rot it, Tirun, didn't I tell you get?" "Sorry, captain." Tirun's voice was hoarse, and she never looked up from the papers and the moving stylus. "Got this one more idea."

  She subsided onto the counter edge, steadied herself through another of The Pride's attitude corrections. She gnawed at her mustaches and waited, wiped her eyes. The stylus scratched away on the paper.

  "There's the YR89," Haral said, putting out a hand to point. "If it went—"

  "Huuuh." The snarl was hoarse and vexed and Haral got the hand out of Tirun's way. Fast. Scratch-scratch went the stylus.

  More silence. The dustscream on the hull grew louder. The Pride corrected. There was a resounding impact.

  "Gods rot!" (Hilfy.) Ears went down in embarrassment. She ducked her chin back to her arm on the counter-edge and tried to pretend former silence.

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  Tirun shoved a strip under the autoreader. The slot took it. Lights rippled as if nothing at all were wrong. Tirun's shoulders slumped.

  "Anything left untried?" Pyanfar asked.

  "Nothing," Haral said quietly.

  "It's a ghosty thing," Tirun said. Her voice cracked. Her ears flagged. "I can't turn it up."

  "Stress-produced?"

  "Think so. Always possible the unit was rotten. Remember that fade at Kirdu."

  Pyanfar heaved a breath and stared at Tirun, reading that grudging mistrust of an unclean system. "We've still got one backup," she said.

  "We'll be down to none at Kshshti. Enough for braking. If we're lucky."

  Pyanfar thought about it. Thought through the whole vane system. "Back to the regulator," she said.

  "You want to replace that Y unit?"

  A long, long worming up the vane column, with The Pride yawing and pitching under power. A long, dark solo job fishing a breaker out of the linkages, where the system was already in failure. From inside— because the particles would strip a suit.

  "No. I want all of us to see Kshshti, thanks." She drew a deep breath. "We put in for repair when we get there, that's all."

  Noses drew down. Ears sank.

  "Well, what else can we do?"

  "I'd try the column," Hilfy said.

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  "Hero's a short-term job, kid." And to Haral: "We go on schedule."

  "If it would get us—" Hilfy said.

  "I'd gods-rotted put Chur up that thing if it'd work: at least she'd know the system."

  Ears sank; shoulders slumped.

  "If someone gets killed up there," Tirun muttered, "gods-rotted lot of trouble getting you out of the works. Might fry the system along with you.

  Captain's right the first time."

  "Sure takes out the Kura option," Haral said.

  "Huh," Pyanfar said. " Isn't an option."

  "There's Urtur."

  "There's Urtur." She let go a long, long breath and thought about it as she had thought about it the last ten hours. Spend days on Urtur. With five kif, two mahendo'sat freighters and six tc'a who were apt to do anything. Or nothing, while the kif blew them apart or boarded.

  "The mahendo'sat," she said, "want us at Kshshti. Goldtooth does. You looked at that scan image? You want to bet Sikkukkut's not passed the word along?"

  "Kif got the dice," Haral said. "No bets. You get anything out of Tully to tell us what this is?"

  Pyanfar slumped against the cabinet back and stared at Haral. "Big. Real big. You want to hear it? Mahendo'sat tried to get humankind in the back door. Humans lost some ships. I think this Ijir's a hunter-ship. It went in and got Tully— typical mahen stunt. They wanted to figure out what was going on and they wanted Tully in their hands. He'd talk. He'd trust them.

  He'd tell them anything they asked."

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  "O good gods," Hilfy murmured.

  "That's not the end of it, niece. Humanity wanted to send their real authorities to the mahendo'sat, I'm guessing, because they had trouble.

  Mahendo'sat wanted Tully, because they have trouble. Here it gets complicated. I think this whole thing's touched off the knnn." No one moved. Eyes dilated to thinnest amber rings. "I think," Pyanfar said, patiently, quietly, "humans failed a promised trade, mahendo'sat investigated, sent a ship— humans from their side blame the kif, and Tully's not high up enough that humanity would've told him much beyond that. He couldn't know the knnn angle. So the mahendo'sat got Tully and rendezvous'd with Goldtooth at some point beyond Tvk, I'm guessing. For questions. Gods know. Tully said the delegation was vexed that Goldtooth wouldn't talk to them; just to him. And Goldtooth took him aboard alone, Ijir went for Maing Tol, Goldtooth went gods know where, and meanwhile our papers miraculously got cleared, when stsho had refused us for months, and Goldtooth and we together ended up at Meetpoint."

  "So did the han, " Hilfy said, and Pyanfar looked her way and blinked. The thought leapt to her mind too, two points connecting.

  "Stle stles stlen."

  "The stationmaster?" Haral asked, hoarse and fatigued, but her ears pricked sharp.

  "Might well be. The han called for consultation; our papers bought back by one side or the other— someone wanted us in this. Feels like mahendo'sat. Feels like Goldtooth himself. We're his Known Quantity.

  But so's Stle stles stlen. Theoretically. I wouldn't lay odds on anything right now. Someone got things moving. Gods know the stsho took our money to clear those papers, but maybe they took everyone's, who knows?"

  "Gods-rotted situation," Haral muttered.

  "Twice over if Ehrran's in it," Tirun said.

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  "Where's Goldtooth headed?" Hilfy asked.

  "I asked Tully that. He doesn't know. He says. Likely he doesn't."

  "He came through here," Haral said. "Kura?
Kita?— Kshshti-bound?"

  "We think he came through here," Tirun said. Her voice cracked. "I'd not lay odds anything's right-side up with that son."

  "Bait-and-switch," Pyanfar said. "Gods-rotted mahe's slippery as a kif. No, I don't swear that message wasn't put in before he got to Meetpoint. Or by some outbound agent. Alarm's being rung down from Meetpoint to Urtur to Kshshti, that's what, and we may just think we're the wavefront."

  "That knnn at Meetpoint—" Tirun said. "Not forgetting that."

  "We can't do anything about it. Except get out of here."

  "And stay in one piece," Haral muttered. "Kshshti's a long jump."

  "We can make it. Even if we blow that vane. Distance may blow it, but it'll help us too: we'll come in with marginal v. We can stop, at worst. At best, it wasn't the Y unit and the vane will hold all the way."

  "It may and it may not," Tirun said. "If it's that. One of those goes ghosty, gods, you don't know whether you've got it or not. Ever. It could hold to Kshshti and we could lose it at Maing Tol when we've got higher v. "

  "One thing I want you to do. Put that whole vane over to backup from the board up. In case we've got a ghost in another unit. Let's just clear all the original systems. Can you do that in four hours?"

  "Can," Tirun said.

  "Not you. You get some sleep."

  "I'll get it," Haral said.

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  "We give up that Y-unit to third redundancy?" Tirun asked. "Could have damaged it when that regulator went backup. If that's sour it'll sure take that linkage out."

  She thought about it. Thought about going no-backup-at-all, which was how desperate it was.

  "No," she said. "I'll dice with the number two. What we've got aboard— if nothing else— we can't risk on that kind of throw. It'll get us there with something left. That's all we dare try."