The Pride of Chanur

Tully went, then, and Pyanfar kept her claws clenched into his arm to remind him of ma

“Aggressive?” the Llun asked.

“Civilized,” Pyanfar said. “But mahe-like. Armed, na Llun. The kif had him awhile. Killed his shipmates. He got away from them. That’s where this started. We have a translator tape on him. We’ll provide it with no quibbles. I want it on record he gave it freely, for his own reasons. In the Tahar matter — that’s a han question. I didn’t trust the Tahar as a courier. Gods witness — I’ll be sorry to be right. And by your leave, na Llun, I’ll be back to answer your questions. There’s a matter of time involved. I was given leave to go.”

“Challenge has been given,” Kifas Llun said, and Pyanfar darted her a hard look. “Only now the word came up.”

Pyanfar thrust Tully back to Hilfy’s keeping and started away without a word.

’Ker Chanur,” Kifas said, and she cast a burning look back. “A quicker way: listen to me.”

“I’ll want a com link,” Pyanfar said. “Now.”

“Listen, ker Chanur. Listen.” Kifas crossed the room to her and took her arm to stop her. “Our neutrality—”

“Gods rot your neutrality. Keep the kif off my back. I’ve got business downworld.”

“Got a ship,” one of the insystem captains said unbidden, a hani of Haral’s build. “She’s old, ker Chanur, but she can set down direct on Chanur land, that no shuttle can do. Tyo freight lander: Rau’s Luck. I’m willing to set her in the way of trouble if Chanur’s minded.”

Pyanfar drew in a breath and looked at the aging captain. Rau was no downworld house. Insystem hani, landless and unpropertied except for a ship or two, unless they were Tyo-based, colonials.

“Your word is worth something,” Kifas said, “Pyanfar Chanur. We’re bound by the Compact. We can’t do more than pin these kif at the station. You’ve got the mahe for help. You can do more than we can. Chanur has two more ships in that might be of use. Tahar—”

Kifas did not finish the statement; her ears flicked in discomfort.

“Yes,” Pyanfar said. “Tahar. I’m not so sure I’d rely on their ships either at the moment.”

“We can’t muster a defense,” Kifas said. “Your captains are downworld with most of the crews. So are others. We’ve got kif at dock for as long as we can keep them, but you said yourself — there may be others.”

“You’ve got the insystem captains.”

“Against jumpship velocity—”

Pyanfar looked about her, at the spacers present. “Go to the jumpships you can reach; you can fill out crews. Take orders. No matter what house. Get those ships able and ready. I’ll get the Chanur captains back here; and any others I can find. In the meantime, keeping those ships ready to go will be the best action with the kif.” She looked at Kifas Llun, grim sobriety. “Your neutrality is in rags. Give me one of your people. To bring witness down there to what’s going on. I have to get moving. Now. Mahijiru and Aja Jin will keep the kif pi

“Rau,” Kifas Llun said. “You’re ready to go?”

“On the instant,” the Rau captain said.

“Ginas,” Kifas said, with a gestured signal to one of her people. “Go with the Chanur. Talk to them. Answer what you’re asked. You’re at her orders.”

The one singled out bowed. Kifas offered the door, a sweep of her hand. “Llun,” Pyanfar murmured in a quick bow of courtesy toward Kifas and toward na Llun, who had seated himself again. Then she turned and swept her own company, the Llun messenger included, toward the door, following the Rau captain. “This way,” the Rau said, indicating a turn which would take them toward the small-craft docks.

Kohan, Pyanfar persuaded herself, would not have taken challenge immediately as it was offered, not knowing that she had reached the system; and surely he knew by now: it was routine that a house was notified when a ship belonging to it made port. The timing of it argued that his enemies knew; and surely Kohan did. He was too wise to be catapulted into any such thing without some preliminaries: she relied on that, with all her hopes.

Two hours by plane from the shuttleport to the airport that served Chanur and Faha and the lesser holdings of the valley: with the Rau’s proposal they saved that much time: and on that too she relied.

And on a pair of mahe.

And gods grant Akukkakk saw some hope for himself. If one of those kif ships got a strike signal off, if the kif was bent on suicide — he might accomplish it, if there were more kif ships lying off out of scan range. Maybe five, six hours lag time for message and strike. With luck, the kif did not know that the hani ships gathered in system were on skeleton crew; with luck the kif would regard them as a threat… if no one had talked.

“That ship of yours,” Pyanfar said to the Rau. “Armed?”

“Got a few rifles aboard,” the Rau said.

XII

There was no access ramp for an insystem workhorse, only a dark tube into a chill and dimly lit interior directly off the dock. The Rau dived in first and shouted to her crew, a thundering and booming of feet on the uncushioned plates. The air was foul, stinging to the nose. Pyanfar came aboard seconds after the captain of the Luck, put a hand on the hatchway as she stooped to enter and drew the hand back damp with condensation — seals leaked somewhere in the recycling systems. Gods knew what the margin was on lifesupport. She worked her way past lockers to the control pit of the probe, trusting Haral and Chur to get everyone else aboard and settled.

“Name,” she asked of the Rau captain, dropping down into the three-cushion pit, waist-high, and ducking under the overhead screens. “Nerafy,” the captain said, nodded back toward her presumed co-pilot and navigator who were dropping into the pit on the other aide. “Tamy; Kihany.”

“Got us an escort,” Pyanfar said. “Mahe’s going to see we get there and back; move it. No groundlings in this lot. Will you give me com?”

“We’re going,” Nerafy said, sinking into her cushion. The hatch boomed shut, deafening. “Kihany: it’s Anuurn we’re headed for; get the captain that link.”

Repulse cut in. Pyanfar hand-over-handed her way around the back of the cushions to the com/navigation board and braced herself with feet and a hand on the rim to lean over the board. “I want,” she said, ignoring the contrary slams of g against which she shifted without thinking, “relay to Aja Jin. Mahe. Get that ship first.”

It took a moment. A mahe voice came crackling through. They lost g as Rau’s Luck executed a wallowing maneuver, acquired it again. “Aja Jin. Have you got us in watch? Track this signal.”

“Got,” the comforting answer returned. “Got. We watch.”

“Out,” Pyanfar said. She broke it off, not anxious to have long conversations with kif to pick them up. The mike in hand, she tapped the harried navigator on the shoulder. “Next call: satellite to ground station Enafy region, area 34, local number 2-576-98; speak to anyone who answers.”

The navigator threw her a desperate glance, shunted her functions to the copilot and started working, no questions, no objections: “What landing?” the copilot was asking; “First we get there,” Narafy said. “Got ourselves a rescue run. Speed counts.”