Chanur's Legacy (43 page)

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Authors: C. J. Cherryh

Tags: #Space Ships, #Science Fiction, #Life on Other Planets, #Fiction, #General

BOOK: Chanur's Legacy
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But it equally well led to the galley and the bridge, too; and he wasn’t forbidden to be there: he actually could do something useful; and Tiar was there, she’d been talking back and forth with them from some ops station and he didn’t think it was downside.

Tiar was on his side, she’d always been friendly to him, she
hadn’t
made his life difficult—Tiar understood what was going on.

He tended cautiously up the corridor in the direction of the bridge. The captain was in her office. The door was shut and the light was on the lock panel that meant she was there and the door wasn’t locked, if you wanted to risk your neck. He didn’t. He walked softly past and through the galley and onto the bridge where, sure enough, Tiar was sitting guard over the boards, with most of hers live and the screens showing the docks outside, and the station’s scan-feed, and the station’s docking-schema, and inputs he didn’t recognize, but they were analytical, he thought, probably running system checks on the engines or something he wasn’t familiar with.

He went and sat down very quietly in Fala’s usual place, next on Tiar’s right, the other side being the captain’s place, where to save his life he wouldn’t dare trespass.

She glanced at him, and looked back at the boards. So there was silence for some few moments.

“Can I help?” he asked softly, so as not to break her concentration.

“We’re getting a little warm-up in a circuit. Not ops-critical, but we’ve put a load on us this trip. It’s just symptomatic of a long run with very little sitting time.”

“Dangerous?” Getting lost in hyperspace wasn’t a thought he wanted even to entertain.

“No.”

He was anxious, all the same. He was just generally scared, of a sudden, or it was easier to worry about a remote chance of breakdown in subspace than to worry about things that were definitely wrong, and he recognized that mental diversion for what it was. He’d nerved himself to walk in here, Tiar wanted to talk machinery, and now he’d lost his opening, which went something like ...

“How’s the stsho doing?” she asked.

“Pretty weak. Excited about being here. Glad to get into clean air. I don’t blame him.”

Tiar wrinkled her nose, a grimace. “It does sort of cling to you.”

He hadn’t washed. Nobody had had time below. And he was embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

“Not. Stay. I want to talk to you anyway.”

Oh, gods. Everything was out of control.

“What did I do?” he asked.

Tiar’s ears flicked, an impressive flicker of rings. “Nothing you did.”

“Oh.”

“What’s the score with you and Fala and Chihin?”

The blood drained to his feet. His brains went with it. He sat there a moment trying to think how not to offend anybody, or look like a thorough fool.

“Do you think Chihin likes me?”

Tiar tried very hard to keep a straight face. It wasn’t quite, for a moment, and then she got it under control, quite deadpan. “I’d say it looked that way at Kshshti. Is she being a problem? Is that what’s going on?”

“I—“ Everybody wanted to blame Chihin. Everybody thought she was taking advantage. Which maybe ought to tell him that was the case.

Except he just didn’t pick that up from her. He hadn’t. He didn’t, below, he had just made himself scarce, which he thought everybody appreciated, since they were busy and thinking about saving their lives, and following the captain’s orders.

“You tell her back off,” Tiar said. “There’s no way she’s going to vote for or against a berth on this ship for you on that basis. She’s a bastard, but she’s an honorable bastard—she just doesn’t play the game like that. She’s made Fala mad. But that’s happened before. Mostly Fala’s mad at Chihin playing games.”

“You think so.”

“Hey. You’re not hard to look at, Fala’s smitten, doesn’t mean she’s got proprietary rights. Tell
her
back off, if that’s the way you feel. Then you can have her
and
Chihin annoyed at you for at least a week. They’ll live.”

It sounded like good advice. Except it sat on his heart like lead where it came to Chihin; and he wasn’t used to talking back to people, not at home, not on the
Sun.
He just hadn’t mastered the art of saying no.

Hadn’t grown up before he’d left home. And maybe hadn’t yet, he thought. In spite of banging his head on shipboard doorways, and sitting in the chair he was in with more of him than the chair was designed to hold.

He just felt awkward. At everything. And he didn’t know if he could say that to Chihin. Or even Fala. In which case things could only get worse.

“You don’t like that advice,” Tiar said.

He didn’t know what to say. He shrugged, knew he wasn’t going to follow her advice, which was stupid, and maybe could lose him his place on board. But he couldn’t do it.

“I’m not good at telling people no,” he said.

“You want me to tell them?”

That was cowardly. And it would hurt Chihin’s feelings, in a major way, he kept thinking that, even when everybody else told him Chihin was having a joke at his expense. And it would last until about the next time the two of them were in the same area of the ship.

“I like Chihin,” he said. “And I don’t think she’s joking.”

“She’s not joking, if you mean is she serious,” Tiar warned him bluntly. But Tiar wasn’t stupid, and she seemed to catch on, then. “You
like
her.”

He nodded.

Tiar raked a hand through her mane, sat back and stared at the boards a second as if she were dumbfounded.

“I don’t think,” he said, in the chance she hadn’t just dismissed him, “I don’t think she’s acting the way everybody says she is. I just don’t think that.”

Tiar looked in his direction, and slowly swung her chair around. “I’ve known her a long time. I know her in ways Tarras and Fala don’t. And if that’s what you’re picking up—next serious question: do you want a rescue?”

He shook his head; and Tiar looked oddly, vaguely satisfied.

“You’re sure.”

He nodded; and Tiar frowned and seemed to have thoughts she wasn’t saying.

Finally she did say: “You’re gods-be young. You won’t always understand her. But if you get to that side of her—good luck, you’ll need it; and I’d like to see it happen. Just don’t let her run over you.

She needs a full stop now and again. Keeps her honest.”

He sat there a moment, trying to sort through that, and deciding it meant he wasn’t crazy and things were the way he thought, and things could
be
the way he hoped for—

“But Fala,” he said.

“But Fala,” Tiar said. “I’ll talk to her.”

“No!”

“She’ll live. You don’t dislike her.”

“No. I
like
her fine, just not—“

“People have to respect that, in clans, on ships, doesn’t matter: there’s serious and there’s not-serious, and Fala will forgive me saying she’d run the other way from a real commitment. That’s what I think. I’ve been wrong before, but I don’t think I am. If you want my further advice, I’d say Fala’s more interested in feeling she’s not unattractive to young men.”

“Fala? She’s beautiful.”

“Beautiful doesn’t matter. She wants to be attractive. Doesn’t everyone?” “I understand.”

“So you pretty well know how to handle it, don’t you?”

He was just not used to things going right. Something in him was still knotted up expecting disaster, like maybe the ship would fall apart in hyperspace just when things were about to sort themselves out. The gods didn’t intend he should get absolutely everything he wanted. The captain was going to throw him off the ship. Chihin was going to decide she didn’t like him.The kif were going to turn on them after all and all the ships around them were going to join in.

“I hope you’re right,” he said.

“Kid, you go follow your instincts—but don’t present too much temptation to anybody till we get this ship out of this godsforsaken port in one piece.”

“Yes, ker Tiar.”

Besides, the stsho were down there. So he couldn’t get to downside ops. He decided he should go clean up, and when he had showered, he was hungry. All of a sudden he had a ravenous appetite, when nothing had much appealed to him since before he was arrested on Meetpoint.

Even Kefk seemed wonderful to him of a sudden. He was grateful to Vikktakkht. He liked the stsho gentleman. He hoped the stsho would be all right and all of them would be happy. He liked everything and everyone around him, and he scrubbed the galley down and set up the meals for undocking, and did everything he could think of to do, the way everyone else aboard was seeing to every detail they could find...

He was absolutely happy. In this port, with kif all around them, and with the ship feeling the strain of a lot of quick turnarounds. Because when Chihin came topside and off duty he could talk to her.

And beyond that prospect he couldn’t get his thoughts straight at all.

Gtst
was clean, at least.
Gtst
looked very feeble.

Wants to talk to you, Tarras had said, although in Hilfy’s opinion Atli-lyen-tlas could do with a few hours of sleep and a minimum of excitement before they even talked about business or arranged what could become a very stressful meeting.

“Your excellency,” Hilfy said. “I have the honor to introduce myself: Hilfy Chanur, captain of
.
How may I make your excellency welcome aboard? I apologize for the utilitarian nature of this present accommodation. ...”

“Most, most gracious.” The voice was very faint. “You are more fluent than any hani I ever met.”

“I was protocol officer and communications on
The Pride.
Please make requests of us for your comfort or information. I shall answer everything to your satisfaction, and not ask but one question myself, in order not to exhaust your excellency’s strength at this moment. Please feel that you may be very direct and brief in your answer as we know your energy is limited. Were you fleeing us, with the kif? Please be assured we mean your excellency only help.”

“Do you know of Paehisna-ma-to? “

“I have met one of her agents.”

“This vile person ...” A pause for breath. “This tasteless individual has committed violence against my staff at Urtur.”

“Some of your staff left aboard a mahen ship.”

“They dared not , . . dared not the darksomeness of a kifish vessel. I am greatly apprehensive for their lives and persons. The mahendo’sat are in fear of the Momentum.”

Numa’sho:
it was in the mahen psyche that a new force that suffered no setbacks had something—mystic about it; they were loath to fight against what had never been beaten.

“Paehisna-ma-to has met reverses. Her agents have resorted to extreme measures which may cause fear in some governments, but which have met brave resistance from the Personages of Urtur and Kshshti. And we have eluded their efforts to divert us.”

“This is excellent news,”
gtst
whispered. “Most excellent news, as my staff relied on these individuals regarding the selection of transportation. Please accept my profound gratitude that you followed where few hani venture. The kif made small efforts at hospitality, and they would have conveyed me on to Meetpoint, but I should have perished by then. The long, long flight ... the food ... I cannot describe ...”

“We will place your excellency in tasteful surroundings and delay in this port until your excellency is able to travel.”

“Has No’shto-shti-stlen sent you? Is your ship the bearer of the
oji?”

“Yes. I hope that this is a felicitous event for your excellency. Please advise me if otherwise.”

A weak hand fluttered and fell. “I am otherwise. I shall make all effort to accept. But I fear that I have fled too far and lost too much.”

“Your excellency will recover!”

“It is indelicate to say. Forgive me. Persons of my stage in life have lost all energies in such regard. I am
Gtsta
.”

Neuter?

Perhaps she let the dismay show. No’shto-shti-stlen sent a ... whatever it was ... and the object of
gtst
proposal was—

“Gtsta,”
Atli-lyen-tlas said faintly. “I am incapable of accepting the inestimable distinction which
gtst
excellency of Meetpoint wished to convey. This—iiii— rarely changes.”

“I should not wish to distress your excellency further. Please advise me where a hani might be ignorant, but be aware I view this as a personal matter of most extreme delicacy, and ask only for your excellency’s welfare: Is there medical treatment which might avail?”

“Most excellent hani, it is age. To attempt to sustain the energies will take years from my life, yet I am motivated to do so. Paehisna-ma-to has conspired within stsho space itself to create disaffections and hesitations, which have threatened
gtst
excellency of Meetpoint, whom I most ardently have admired. I overestimated my endurance. I underestimated the persistence of the agents of Paehisna-ma-to. I can only hope to find the strength.”

“Your excellency,
gtst
excellency of Meetpoint has sent a representative, one Tlisi-tlas-tin, as custodian of the Preciousness and arbiter of propriety. The Preciousness rests within
gtst
cabin and in such tasteful surroundings as we could best create.”

“Take me there! I must see the Preciousness. Please assist me!”

She was apprehensive. She had visions of fragile bones breaking in the mere attempt to walk, of a stsho circulatory system failing in the effort.

But the will to live was important too. She looked at Tarras, who hovered in the neighboring surgery, ostensibly taking inventory, but watching. Tarras walked to the small screened area and Fala turned up with her.

“’Gtst
excellency wants to go to Tlisi-tlas-tin,” she said. “I think it’s important. Can
gtst
do it?”

“I don’t know,” Tarras said. “I don’t know what I’m doing, but following the book. I ... just don’t know. We can see.”

“Try,” she said, and Tarras and Fala came in and helped
gtst
to
gtst
feet, very gently, very carefully. There was no other transport but a gurney, which would undoubtedly offend
gtst
dignity. And calling down
na
Hallan . , .
gtst
excellency Tlisi-tlas-tin would surely advise Atli-lyen-tlas that
na
Hallan was not an unusually tall crewwoman.

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