Chanur's Venture (16 page)

"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.

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.

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

"If it would get us--" Hilfry said.

"I'd gods-rotted put Chur up that thing if it'd work: at Jeast 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."

"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.

"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 Meet-point. 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.

"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."

"What have we got aboard?" Tirun asked.

"Message from humanity to Maing Tol and Iji. Translator. Message from Goldtooth

to his Personage. Gods know what that is. About the knnn -- most likely." She

drew a deep breath and considered the chance it involved the hem. Alliances.

Doublecrosses. "All systems to number two and we jump to Kshshti on schedule.

Tell Chur and Geran what we're doing when they come on duty."

"Not the menfolk?"

"Gods, don't worry them. Tell them we fixed it all."

"What--" Hilfy asked ever so quietly, "what about Tully if we go lame at

Kshshti? We'll be stuck at dock. Gods know the kif--"

"What we do, imp -- We get ourselves to Kshshti and whatever happens, by the

gods, we put him in mahen hands. Let them worry about him. Hear? They've got two

hunter-ships to their account. Let them take it." She stood up again. "Get some

rest. All of you this time."

"Aye," Tirun murmured in what of a voice she had left. Hilfy stared at her

open-mouthed.

"Nothing else to do," Pyanfar said to her. "Nothing else. He's worth too much to

take chances with. That message is. Understand? We've had it. That vane's got

us."

"We go in like this we could be down a week!"

"So we take our damage. We can cover the bill. We've got that. We're done, imp.

Finished."

"I could make it," Hilfy said, "up that column and we'd have that unit

replaced."

"Wrong. Chur would have to do it. She's smallest. And she's not fool enough."

There was silence but for that. That and the dust.

She got up and walked away, staggered a little as she reached the corridor and

The Pride corrected course again.

She had another, chilling thought and turned, pointed at Haral. "No way this kid

tries it. You sit on her. Someone goes up that column I'll space her. Hear?"

"Aye," Haral said.

No one followed her. Presumably they were clearing up the paper. Closing down.

Her eyes blurred with exhaustion and she refrained from rubbing at them as she

passed Khym's cabin.

She thought of going to him. She had not -- not since Hoas. It was not her time;

had not been, then. Such niceties went by the board with them as they had in her

world-visits. But sleep would not come easy with the dust, the small shifts of G

that went on constantly: and he might be asleep; and there would be questions if

she waked him.

Did you fix it, Py?

She opened her own door and walked in, sat down at the desk and methodically

cleared the clutter of her own work away.

Course-plottings. Calculations every way she could make them in hopes of getting

another dump-and-turn that would turn them off toward Kura and hani space,

without breaking them down at Urtur and stranding themselves here with the kif.

None were feasible. And if they were -- if they were, knnn notice fell on hani

thereafter.

Goldtooth, you mahen bastard. Seeing to the safety of his own, that was sure.

So she handed the package back again: Here, fool mahe, you take it. Good luck.

Run fast.

And Tully--

She rested her head against her hands. Gods, gods, gods.

Knnn.

And the failsafe that was Ijir, whatever else it had been, with its humanity

aboard, and just gone backup.

Kif had it, gods help them. Kif would take them apart, mahe, humans, everyone.

Tully knew, who had spent time in kifish hands, who had gone to hani for help

because he heard them laugh once, across Meetpoint docks.

Gods rot Sikkukkut and all kifish gifts.

They were out of it, that was all. Whatever gain or loss there was yet to be

made, The Pride had gone her limit. So they should be glad to be out of it. A

vane down. They could not jump The Pride again. They rolled the dice for

Kshshti. That was gambling all their lives. At Maing Tol the odds went up, that

it would not hold for braking.

Hero's a short-term job, kid.

So what was stung, that they had to give up and lay back and let others do what

hani failed at?

And hand Tully on alone to mahendo'sat?

"All secure," Haral said, beside her, at her post. "I take her, captain?"

"I'll take this one," Pyanfar said, and reached and settled her arm into the

brace. She glanced up at the reflection of the rest of the bridge, crew in

place, Khym in his observer's post.

Fixed, they had told him. And his face had lightened, trusting them.

Fixed, they had told Tully, who was harder to lie to, being spacer himself. And

he had drugged himself into a haze by now, as his kind had to do.

"Starfix positive, Maing Tol," Haral said.

The dust whined over the hull, constant but thinner now. "Going to dust up

Kshshti a bit," she said. "Can't be helped."

Haral rolled a glance in her direction, a stark, stark stare. "Can't be helped,"

she said.

Sudden silence then, as the jump field began to build and the shields came up.

They rode their luck this time.

Chapter Seven

There were hazard lights blinking urgent alarm, and Harals voice protesting--

--"Captain--"

--Plaintively, as if she had not heard the beeps and already begun to reach.

There was perhaps some mercy in being human and drugged out of one's mind. . . .

"Got it," Pyanfar coughed, though her throat had gone to stone in the long slow

leak of time past the instruments, in the inside out of jumpspace. "Location?"

One went lethargic, grew fatally tranquil in that dizzy flow where one could do

nothing, nothing but watch and take a subjective day moving a finger. There was

an itch at the tip of her nose just as important as their collective lives. . .