Pyanfar did not stir. Hunter-vision was centered only on the kif, the trigger under her finger, with the rifle against her knee. If Tully raised up too far, Tully would be in the line of fire. It was intended. She knew it was. She adjusted the knee and the rifle into a higher line. Sikkukkut's face, this time. "You want your hostage back?"
"Skkukuk? No. That one is for your entertainment. Let's talk about things of consequence."
Rhif Ehrran's ears had pricked. Jik let out a great cloud of smoke that drifted up and mingled with kifish incense. "We got time."
"Excellent. Hokki." Sikkukkut picked up his cup from the table and filled it with something that reeked like petroleum and looked rotten green. He drank and set the cup down, looking toward Pyanfar. "You?"
"I've got plenty of time."
"Even before Kshshti," Sikkukkut said, "even before that, at Meetpoint, I had converse with Ismehanan-min. Goldtooth, hunter Pyanfar calls him. I advised him to avoid certain points and certain contacts. You'll have noticed that the stsho vessel has deserted us now."
"Same notice," Jik said dryly.
"You'll have noticed a certain distress on the part of this stsho who remains with us—kkkt, perhaps you would care to question this one. A negotiator, gtst claims to be—"
"You tell," Jik said, puffing a cloud of smoke. "You got something drink, friend kif?"
"Indeed. Koskkit. Hikekkti ktotok kkok.—" A wave of his hand. A kif departed. "Were you always at Chanur's back?"
"No, not. Crazy accident I come Kshshti. Friend Pyanfar say she got trouble. So I come. Bring this fine hani." A nod Ehrran's way. "You remember, a?"
"Meetpoint," Sikkukkut said. The long-jawed face lifted. There was no readable expression. "Yes. This hani was dealing with the grass-eaters."
Rhif Ehrran coughed. "By treaty, let me remind you—"
Sikkukkut waved his hand. "I have no desire for treaties. Operations interest me. Chanur interests me."
"Hunter Sikkukkut, there's been a persistent misunderstanding of hani channels of authority."
O gods, Pyanfar thought, and felt sick at the stomach. Hunter, indeed. Rhif Ehrran demoted the kif in a word, in front of his subordinates.
"It seems mutual," Sikkukkut said, with equanimity and heavy irony, and pointedly turned his attention from Ehrran. "Hunter Pyanfar, I will speak with you. And my old friend Keia. When did we last trade shots? Kita, was it?"
"You at Mirkti?" Jik asked.
"Not I."
"Kita, then." Another puff at the stick. Jik flicked ash onto the floor. "We got shoot here?"
"Mahen bluntness.—That thing is a foul habit, Keia."
Jik laughed, replaced the smokestick in his mouth. "True." He glanced aside as a kif approached him with a glass. He sniffed it and drank. "Mahen. Nice stuff."
"Ssskkt. I appreciate it now and again."
"What got?"
"My business? Very serious business. Mahen interference. Stsho connivance with hani. This humanity—" Sikkukkut reached down and lifted Tully's chin. "How are you faring'.' Are you well, kkkt? Understanding this?" He let go and Tully kept his head up, white-faced and sweating and incidentally in the line of fire till he slumped and rested his arms on the table. "This humanity is a problem. Not alone has their presence disrupted trade: we do not, ourselves, depend so much on trade. . . . kkkt? But stsho do. Stsho fear any thing that comes near them. So the balance of the Compact is upset. And when that balance tilts, so agreements fall; and when agreements fall, so authorities give way — so there is disarrangement. This is our perspective. And our opportunity. Akkukkak first brought this creature into Compact space. Had it been my doing, of course, I would have fared better, kkkt?"
"Akkukkak dead. Lot dis-arrangement, a?"
"We trust that he is dead. The knnn are unpredictable. Perhaps he will turn up in a bazaar in some trade — but let us assume he is out. Presently there is Akkhtimakt. Akkhtimakt styles himself hakkikt, holds Kita, disrupting traffic — "
" — make lousy big trouble," Jik said.
"Have you dislodged him?"
"I maybe do. Maybe not. Why you raid Kshshti dock?"
"Ah. Now, there you are mistaken. The Kshshti Personage has a traitor on the staff — "
"Not got now."
"Kkkt. You redeem my opinion of you. But this spy was Akkhtimakt 's operative, not mine."
"Ummmn. You same got spy at Kshshti?"
"Not now. But then I did. When the human was crossing the docks — Akkhtimakt's agents moved to seize him. And I, fortunately, foreknew it. So I was on the hunt as well. Kkkt. Would Kshshti have fared so well in that firefight if kif had not fought kif on that dock? Mahendo'sat have me to thank; I believe thank is the expression — at any rate I stepped in and gathered up the prize before Akkhtimakt's agents could seize it. There was no negotiating there, at Kshshti, with everything astir, with every probability Akkhtimakt's agents would presently report all this — I am discreet no longer. By this intervention at Kshshti I have challenged my rival openly. Now I contend with him. And I surmised correctly that you would follow me, hunter Pyanfar, as soon as your ship could move."
"What's the deal?" Pyanfar asked.
"You might, you know, put the safety on that thing."
"Huh. Might. But I'm comfortable, hakkikt."
The snout wrinkled in what might be humor. "You don't trust my word."
"The deal, hakkikt."
"Ah. Kkkt. Yes. In simplicity: I have chosen Mkks as my temporary base. And my motives and yours coincide."
"Do they?"
"Kkkt. There are fools at large. Many fools. Stsho seek a way to prevent humankind from going through their space. Stsho connive with hani—am I right, deputy?—against mahendo'sat, who would wish to bring humans through at our backs, for reasons not lost to us. How quickly Keia distracted me when I mentioned stsho negotiators! But we know. To gain a foothold at Meetpoint, mahendo'sat route humans through tc'a space. Unwise. Vastly unwise. Stsho will not tolerate this any more than the other—and the very possibility of a human route approaching their territory or even their neighbor and ally tc'a—agitates them beyond rationality. Akkhtimakt operates with the fist. I, with the knife. Akkhtimakt wishes humans barred. But I am, among kif, your friend. Our motives frequently coincide. Is this not a better definition of alliance than friendship?''
Jik let out a puff of smoke. "You wrong, friend. Human got own idea. Damn stupid. But they want come through."
"They have urging. Do they not?"
"Who know? Tell you got number one serious thing, methane-breather upset. We got trouble. Kif got trouble. Not all profit, either side. A?"
"You are willing to deal."
"Maybe." Another puff of smoke. "What you got I want?"
"Mkks."
Jik flicked ash. "A. Now we talk kif logic."
'' You understand."
"Sure thing. You no trade. Maybe give gift. You give me Mkks. I then got plenty sfik. make good ally, a? Maybe do something more."
"Take Kefk."
Jik's heavy brow shot up. The stick hesitated on its way to his mouth. Arrived. "So. Maybe."
Take Kefk. Only take the only kifish gateway to Meetpoint, the one kifish channel to the biggest trading point in the Compact—a major station and probably the most sensitive spot in kifish space outside Akkht itself. Pyanfar kept her ears erect with the greatest of efforts, kept a bland look on her face; and counted the kif and her ally stark mad.
"You think it possible," Sikkukkut said.
"I got allies. You got same. We go take Kefk." Jik took a final drag on the stick and drowned it in the dregs of the drink. "Personnel this station take back jobs. Then I take Kefk. You want?"
"Wait a minute," said Rhif Ehrran. " Wait a minute."
"I talk to her," Jik said without a look in that direction. "Got same good friend Pyanfar, one tough bastard hani. You want Kefk, fine. You get."
"Alliance," Sikkukkut said. "Myself and your Personage."
"You got."
"It's more than talk we've got to do," Rhif Ehrran said.
"The han deputy wants to know her advantage in this," Sikkukkut said. "But hani have allied with kif before. The deputy knows whereof I speak. Hani have formed various associations."
Pyanfar slid a glance Ehrran's way; the deputy's ears were down.
"What," Ehrran asked, "does the hakkikt know about hani allied with kif?"
"One word. Tahar. Does that interest you?"
"Where is Tahar?"
"In service to Akkhtimakt. Moon Rising is one of his ships and Tahar one of his skkukun. Not high in his estimation— but of some use to him."
"Gods rot," Pyanfar muttered, and looked at Sikkukkut herself.
"A hani famed for treason—treason, is that not the word?''
"It's close enough. Where is she?"
The kif shrugged, smooth as oiled silk. "Where is Akkhtimakt? Now does confrontation interest you?"
"She do fine," Jik said, studying the ice in the glass, in Rhif Ehrran's silence. "What say, hakkikt?"
"Ssko kjiokhkt nokthokkti ksho mhankhti akt." Sikkukkut waved a hand. "The station personnel are free to go."
"A." Jik twisted half about in his chair, leaned back within view of the mahendo'sat and stsho. "Shio! Ta hamhensi nanshe sphisoto shanti-shasti no."
There was babble. The stsho shrilled; and the mahendo'sat left the kif s hands and headed for the door, walking at first, then moving with increasing speed. The stsho ran, fell, scrambled up and fled through the chittering crowd even before the mahendo'sat.
Jik turned around again when the jam in the doorway had cleared. He pulled another stick from his belt and lit it. "How many ship you got?" he asked.
"Here? All kif here are mine but one. And that one is disabled; its crew—is presently rearranging its loyalties."
"Fourteen ship. We got three. No problem. Akkhtimakt maybe come Kshshti; maybe come Mkks. Not good you stay here, all same. Advice come free, a?"
"So Mkks will fall again—if Akkhtimakt comes here."
"He not stay. Got no reason stay." Another expansive puff of smoke. "He quick learn we go Kefk, a? So he come. He leave Mkks, come Kefk number one quick, pay you visit."
Wrinkles chained up Sikkukkut's snout. "So by aiding me you aid Mkks."
"You right, friend."
"Hunter Pyanfar, where are your loyalties in this?"
"Myself. My crew. My friends. Jik wants us there, I don't doubt we'll talk about it."
"So. And a promise. Will you keep it?"
"Thought kif didn't have the word."
"You do."
She scowled. "I do."
"Then take your human as a gift. Join us. I will give the orders in this attack. I will personally provide you information on Kefk defenses."
"Jik?"
"You promise. Got no problem."
She shot Jik one long, burning look. But he did not look her way, studying instead the contents of his glass. She looked back over the rifle barrel balanced on her knee.
"Jik and I will talk about it."
"You go," Jik said.
"Huh," she said.
"She promise."
"Excellent." Sikkukkut unfolded upward from his chair. There was a stir among the kif. "You are all free. Take that as my gift."
He drew back. Blackrobed kif surrounded them.
"Tully." Pyanfar reached out and nudged Tully with her foot, her rifle in both hands. "Tully. Up. We get you out of here. You walk, Tully."
He gathered himself up, holding to Sikkukkut's vacated chair, and stood wobbling on his feet. No one said anything. Likely Rhif Ehrran was choking on what she wanted to say about the situation, but it was not the time or place for it. Pyanfar stood up and let her rifle hang at carry, laid her hand on Tully's bare, claw-streaked shoulder. It was icy cold. There was a deep and healing wound on his arm. Come on," she said. "With us."
He walked. Geran took his arm with her left hand, her right on the butt of her pistol. Jik was up—he had the stick still in his mouth, and drew yet another puff on the foul thing. Rhif Ehrran was on her feet and drew her own crew into retreat.
It was a long walk through the silent kifish crowd to the door, a slow one, at Tully's pace. But they made it out into the comparatively bright light of the docks, the atmosphere laden with oils and volatiles that hit like a gust of fresh air after the closeness of the meeting hall.
Khym walked along with them, Haral out in front. Tirun carried her rifle left-handed to keep Tully on his feet, with Jik and Rhif Ehrran bringing up the rear. Pyanfar cast a look back: gods, Jik was puffing on that filthy thing all the way and scattering ashes as he went. But kif kept hands off them. There were stares from the crowd outside, and there was muttering, but nothing worse.
"You get quick you ship," Jik said, as Pyanfar fell back to walk beside him. "Got lot work, hani, lot work."
"It's your intention to go through with this," Rhif Ehrran said.
"Number one sure. You want wait here, say hello Akkhtimakt? Got also other big trouble. That stsho go out from here. Maybe go Kshshti—maybe instead go Kefk, a, on way to Meetpoint. Maybe talk too much. Stsho lot talk. Not good thing we get compli-cation. Stsho make same, a? Go."
"There's a limit to what treaty makes me liable to. We'll discuss this, na Jik."
"Fine. Same time you lay course. We do same. I tell you, I bet some kif leave here, go Kshshti. They tell Akkhtimakt what happen here at Mkks, we got small time. Akkhtimakt got fast ship. Same got trouble with kif maybe go Harak. Same trouble stsho go Kefk—lot smart, stsho: maybe got rumor already Akkhtimakt come Kshshti, so run damn quick go Kefk, go Meetpoint'—maybe Tt’v’va'o, maybe Llyene— Bet Sikkukkut lot unhappy not stop that ship."
"You've stopped coinciding with han interests."
"A. Then maybe wish you goodbye, lot luck. Akkhtimakt eat you heart."
"You foul this up—"
"—he eat mine. Number one sure, hani. Akkhtimakt want me, long time." He put his hand amid Rhif Ehrran's back and hastened them along. "Best we move, a?"
"Kefk, for the gods' sake," Pyanfar muttered.
"Easy stuff."
"Then why for the gods' sake hasn't Sikkukkut done It?"
"Sfik." Jik took the stick from his mouth and blew a cloud of smoke. "Need sfik, make convince other kif, a? Now he got us. We all got lot sfik, le-gi-ti-macy, a?"
"Lunacy," she muttered.
"You run, good friend?"
"Gods rot it, you'd find some reason why not."
Jik grinned and put the stick back in his mouth. "You owe me. When Chanur ever default on debt, a?"
"Gods rot your hide."
She strode along by him, cast occasional looks back, as Ehrran's crew did. Gods, get us off this dock. More and more kif appeared along the way, all chittering and chattering among themselves. Our allies. Gods!
And Tully limped along at his own pace, doing the best he could.
There was the safe area ahead, that portion of the dock under surveillance from their own guns. They reached it, and Pyanfar looked back. The kif had not followed them across that imaginary line . . . thank the gods.
"We're safe," an Ehrran crewwoman said. Ehrran crew stood out from cover on the docks; a few of Jik's were visible.
"We're all right," Haral said by pocket com, now that they came in range of The Pride's dockside pickup. "Haral speaking. We got him. He's all right."
Some answer came back. Pyanfar did not hear. She saw Rhif Ehrran sweep a signal to her own crew as they passed the dockage of Ehrran's Vigilance,—not a signal to turn in there, but to come with her. Rhif Ehrran lengthened stride; and stopped Tirun and Tully and Geran at the foot of The Pride's docking area, with a grip on Tully's arm. "The human's safer in our keeping," Rhif said. "We'll take him."
"No," Pyanfar said, overtaking. "Gods rot it, Ehrran, we'll discuss it somewhere else. Get out of the way. We got kif back there—let go of him. He's had enough! Gods fry you, that's crew you've got your hands on." She launc
hed a blow of her own and it brought up short on Jik's out-thrust arm.
"I take," Jik said. "/ take, hear."
"By the gods you don't. No! He's listed crew of mine. Gods rot you, let him go—"—as Haral decked an Ehrran crewwoman and mayhem broke loose, one brawling knot with Tully in the midst. Pyanfar elbowed Jik and shoved her way in as Khym did.
"Out!" Khym yelled, a male hani voice, that shocked echoes off the overhead; he dived amid the mess and snatched Tully to himself. He grinned at Ehrran, ears flat, with Tully crushed against his chest.
It stopped, it all stopped.
"I'm crazy," Khym said. "Remember?"
And it was in Pyanfar's own head that he truly might go berserk. She opened her mouth, shut it. Tully was not struggling. He held on, fists clenched in the fur of Khym's shoulders. And Ehrran waited for the bloody bits and pieces to start flying. Male and male. Tully hanging in Khym's grip like an unstrung toy.
"He's Chanur crew, isn't he?" Khym rumbled. "Like me." He swung Tully up into both arms, the rifle swinging loose from his elbow—good gods, the safety off on a gun fit to hole armor plate. Tully's head lolled back, his limbs suddenly gone loose. "We going inside, captain?"
"Move it," Pyanfar said. Her heart started beating again.
"Hnhunnh. Excuse me." Khym walked deliberately through Ehrran's ranks, swinging to clear Tully's legs.
"Chanur," Rhif Ehrran said.
"I know. You'll file a protest. Get your crew out of my crew's way, or they'll be picking fur out of the filters all over Mkks."
"Damn fool," Jik muttered. He pinched out his stick and dropped it into a pouch. "Move! You think we got no witness?" He jerked a hand toward the watching kif, far off down the dock. "What want? Entertain them?"
Rhif Ehrran made an abrupt gesture upward. Rifles clattered out of the way. Her eyes were amber rings around black. Her rumpled mane stood out in curling wisps as if charged with static. "We'll settle it later, Chanur."
"Fine." Pyanfar led her own crew through, lingered at the rail of the upward ramp and turned her head to see nothing happened behind her. The Ehrran crewwomen stood stock still. Ker Rhif herself stared with ears flat, promise in that look. Geran came last, not without a backward glance on her own. "Get in," Pyanfar said in Geran's slight hesitation: Need help? that delay implied. Geran went; she followed, and as they came into the accessway she remembered the Ehrran guards in lowerdeck. "Gods," she muttered, and started running, sweeping the crew with her.
The Kif Strike Back cs-3 Page 7
