Chanur's Legacy cs-5

by Caroline J. Cherryh

  But deal with Haisi? He might be Pyanfar's bosom friend. He might be working for her overthrow and with a mahen sense of humor, using her help to do it.

  Get the truth out of Tlisi-tlas-tin? Not outstanding likely. And there was no way to consult No'shto-shti-stlen.

  Continuing silence at the table. It was the crew's moral refuge and her moral dilemma: the captain was thinking. The captain was going to get them out of what the captain, who was young enough to be Tiar's daughter, had gotten them collectively into.

  "We can pull out. We can stay. We've got two other hani in port with us. That's Padur's Victory and a Narn hauler, both slated for Hoas. But they're marginal ships, they're not up to this. If we involve them, they could be in big trouble, so that's no help."

  "No threat to them."

  "None so far. We could get the kid aboard—"

  "The kid's in potential trouble."

  "The kid's ship is at Hoas."

  "The kid's ship is probably on its way here right now, if we put him on one of them, he'll miss his ship."

  It was true. And beyond Hoas, either ship might be on to Meetpoint, where he wasn't welcome — and consequently they might not be.

  "Tell you something else," Tiar said. "Captain. That kid's been on this ship."

  She understood what Tiar was getting at. She didn't particularly want to listen to it.

  "If you turn him out on the docks," Tiar said, "the mahendo'sat are going to pick him up. There's no question. They'll assume he knows what they want to know."

  "He's also not Chanur, not involved with us, he's Sahern crew, they're coming here, and if we're holding him…"

  "He doesn't want to go to them. He wants to stay with Chanur."

  "He's in love with my gods-forsaken aunt! He's a fool kid, light-years from home on a notion—"

  "A gods-forsaken ticking bomb," Chihin said. "We have a stsho aboard this ship, a stsho that we daren't upset. We have a kid with healthy hormones right around the corner from gtst honor and the Preciousness we're now supposed to get to Kita — beyond which, there's precious few choices where we're going, captain."

  "If they're Pyanfar's, she'll sort it out. If they're not — and we help them, they'll cut our throats."

  "What happens if our stsho fragments and decides gtst is the queen of the gods?"

  "We have a problem," Tarras said, which brought them back to point one.

  "Honorable," Hilfy said, not cheerfully. "I have news."

  A languid wave. Gtst was restoring gtst body-paint, carefully brushing a pattern down a white forearm.

  Gtst completed it with a flourish.

  In strictest courtesy, Hilfy invited herself into the bowl-chair and sat down.

  "There has been a complication," she began.

  "Then your honor can surely solve it. Are you not hired to do so?"

  "Would your honor care for tea?" She made a slight wave of the hand toward the door, and Fala, with tea-service in hand.

  "If your honor sees fit." Gtst looked anxious, waving the newly painted arm, arranging gtst draperies.

  With a species that tended to dissociate psychologically at grievous upsets — five rounds of tranquilizing tea seemed perhaps a good idea. Especially since it was their stsho and their contract, with the Precious-ness enthroned in its case above their heads.

  Five cups, in which Fala contrived not to spill anything on the white cushions, in which their juniormost acquitted herself with commendable self-possession.

  "We hope your honor has been comfortable such as our hospitality has been able to provide."

  "We have survived. We are composed. The Preciousness in our possession is unmolested. We could not ask more of your meager circumstances."

  Snobbish son.

  "May your honor," gtst asked, "choose to inform us of the matter which troubles your peace?"

  "Regarding the intended recipient of the oji."

  "The Preciousness."

  "The Preciousness. Would it surprise your honor in the least to know that the intended recipient has — em— quit gtst post?"

  Shocked pale eyes lifted and centered on her face. "Impossible."

  So gtst did not know in advance. Perhaps her surmises were unjust and mistaken.

  "Quit gtst post so far as the mahendo'sat have been willing to inform me. Should they have reason to lie?

  One of them has been quite forward in asking me to allow him access here."

  "No! A thousandfold no! This is insupportable. This is unthinkable!" Paint spilled as gtst jostled the bottle. "Oh, where are my servants? The paint, the precious pigments, — oh, my predecessors, oh, my honor, oh, my reputation, oh, I am wounded! I perish, wai! I perish!"

  It was blotting furiously — impossible to tell whether the migration of Atli-lyen-tlas was the shock, or the paint, or the reference to mahendo'sat, but gtst was highly agitated, breathing in great gasps, and Fala came running, cups rattling on the tray, all the while the honorable was fighting for breath and clear as clear was the possibility of a dissolution before their eyes.

  "Be calm!" Hilfy said, unsure whether to lay hands on the creature or not. "Be calm! Your honor is not in question, most honorable, most excellent! Calm yourself, breathe quietly—"

  The stsho did listen. Moonstone eyes gazed at her in shock, a paint-spattered hand clutched a paint-stained fold of gtst robe to gtst breast, and it shook and trembled and lifted and lowered gtst plume-augmented crest in high agitation.

  "We are empowered to search further!" Hilfy said, reaching for vocabulary. What was the ceremonial deferative singular for "personality disintegration" and was it appropriate to use it? "You are in no wise responsible for this, honorable! There is every possibility gtst excellency foresaw such an event — we find it in the contract!"

  "In the contract."

  "In the contract, honorable."

  "But gtst excellency should have confided in me, gtst excellency has dishonored me—"

  "Gtstexcellency has entrusted you with the Preciousness. Has gtst not? Or should we not question that?

  Should we ask what is in that box?"

  Moonstone eyes went wide and horrified. And gtst looked up and up and around, where the shipping box sat within its braces.

  "Must we not be certain? Would you recognize the Preciousness if you saw it?"

  "Of course! Of course! Oh, the villainy in your mind!" Tlisi-tlas-tin scrambled to an undignified exit from the chair, trailing paint-soaked robes over the white cushions and the tiles of the floor, gtst long fingers sought the shipping latches and undid them, waving Fala's offered help away in indignation. Gtst undid the latches of the box itself, and Hilfy held her breath, unbearably driven to reach out restraining hands in case it should fall.

  But there in the plush white liner sat a white, carved — vase, one supposed. Is this it? Hilfy wondered; Fala looked puzzled; but Tlisi-tlas-tin sank down with a sigh and fluttered gtst fingers, held a hand to gtst chest, and muttered, "I am vindicated. I am vindicated, gtst excellency has not lied to me."

  "We had no doubt of your honor," Hilfy ventured to say, and stood by as Tlisi-tlas-tin picked gtstself off the pastel-smeared floor, in the wreckage of gtst finery. Gtst struck as belligerent and proud a pose as a creature could, that a gust of breath could shatter.

  "But this is a pen for animals! I cannot possibly abide these circumstances! Look at me! The Precious-ness cannot abide in this wreckage! My honor! My reputation!"

  Hilfy thought of another word, but she bowed with great courtesy and smiled. "We are of course concerned. We will act instantly to rectify this unfortunate circumstance."

  "Immediately! I cannot abide this! Oh, the injustice, oh, the cruelty, oh, the perfidy!"

  '' What perfidy, honorable?''

  "I demand to see the next highest stsho authority, I demand to have access to this individual!"

  "Honorable, —"

  "I am wronged, oh, predecessors and antecedents, I am wronged, most grievously!"

  Fala ma
de a glance toward the overhead. But in space there was no direction for heaven.

  And the gods were probably busy with aunt Pyanfar.

  Chapter Six

  Potential spies everywhere, Haisi blackmailing them for access to the stsho they had contracted to protect, and the stsho in question wailing and moaning and lamenting betrayals on the part of the stsho ambassador to Urtur, and of the staff of said ambassador, who did not return calls.

  Andthe honorable Tlisi-tlas-tin's quarters were a shambles, gtst person was a shambles, gtst affairs were a shambles, and in a species that Phased under stress, into new and unpredictable psychological configurations…

  The Preciousness might end up in the hands of a completely different individual, for which — Hilfy hesitated even to send the legal program on another search through the contract and the handbook of Compact law looking for legal responsibility. Gtst honor was tottering on the edge of dissolution and gtst wanted the damage to gtst quarters repaired, gtst wanted the colors changed, gtst wanted new clothing, and a better diet, and entertainments and amenities.

  Which meant scouring the market for stsho items, checking through what they had in cargo cans; and dealing with customs one more time.

  "You got problem?" a mahen voice said; and Hilfy turned to find the scoundrel on her track— following her, gods rot him. Maybe not even doing the watching himself… just have some underling do it, and call him for the intercept.

  "What do you want?"

  "Want make deal. Hear you look for stsho stuff. Hear you want make buy stuff like deck tile, like 'vuli cloth, like…"

  "How nice you got all these things to sell me! Good price, huh?"

  "You funny. Amuse stsho?"

  She started to walk away. He got in front of her.

  "Hear you try talk stsho embas-sy. Not possible. Stsho shut down. Some go Meetpoint. Some Kita."

  "You've had yourself a main proper disaster here, haven't you? You try to break off trade with the stsho? Try to screw up politic for my aunt?"

  "I friendPyanfar." Hand on chest. "My personage friend with Pyanfar, number one try do good for you."

  Haisi Ana-kehnandian glanced about as casual traffic passed, and he made an unwelcome catch at her elbow. "You want stsho stuff, I get for you. Easy done. Stuff all over embassy. Nice stuff, number one stsho furniture."

  "Breaking and entering? Pirated goods?"

  "Shush, shush, don't make noise ever'body hear. You come. I fix, you get."

  "You drove the whole gods-forsaken stsho embassy off Urtur, and you want to help me? No thanks!

  Go talk to the kif, they appreciate a pirate!"

  "Don't be fool. You want clear customs? You want get stuff on ship, same deal you got get customs stamp. Customs don't let you trade till you cleared, hani, you got figure how things are."

  One could figure how things were. One could figure somebody was in tight with the officials at some level.

  "You want stop whole deal for redecorate stsho cabin?" Haisi asked. "That funny."

  "Who said?"

  "Funny thing you got real white shopping list. Stsho emissary not happy with decor? Maybe lot stress on this person?"

  "Go to hell," she said.

  And walked off, walked and took a lift and a transport bus to the dockside customs office.

  And got the official no. No onloading if there was a hold on offloading.

  "So what if a ship pulls in here and doesn't want to sell to you? You're not going to let them buy?"

  Her fist landed on the counter. "I don't believe that!"

  "Not same. Not same. You got hold on you cargo. Not same legal situation. You want deal, you let custom inspector see contraband."

  "It's not contraband! It's stsho diplomatic property!"

  "Make you appeal stsho mission."

  "There is no stsho mission on Urtur! You scared it off!"

  "Not us scare off. Maybe this object you got scare them."

  "No way! News of it got here with my ship! No way they know about it. You ask Haisi Ana-kehnandian what spooked them, you ask him what in your seventh reprehensible hell he knows about our cargo and who's pockets he's got access to. I want to talk to the stationmaster, I want to talk to the personage of this station, I want a legal accounting of every paper you've brought against us, and I want my ship cleared!"

  "You not yell in this office!"

  "I by the gods yell in this office, I yell until somebody contacts the personage of Urtur and gets my customs slip cleared, and no more of this talk about invading a stsho emissary's privacy and searching his baggage!"

  There was a disturbance at the door behind her. A mahen voice registered protest in some alien tongue, another joined it before she could even look around. She did look, and there was a handful of mahen spacers and Haisi Ana-kehnandian shoving other business out the door.

  He shut the door and held it then, with a wall of large mahendo'sat.

  She missed carrying a gun. Gods, she did. Claws came out. Haisi twitched and she went over the counter, scattering customs personnel left and right. Chairs went over, clerks jammed up in an inner office door and shrieked in panic.

  "Hani!" Haisi shouted. "You stop, stop now! You listen!"

  Nobody had guns. But they had the door. There were clerks under desks. The group behind her squeezed into the room and shut that door.

  “Where's your authority? Where's any proof you're not a pirate, Haisi Ana-kehnandian? Unblock that door!"

  "All right, all right." Haisi made calming gestures. "You not break furniture, Chanur captain. You got important relative, no reason break place up. Don't be damn fool!"

  "I got important relative, same time got real distrust of people who get pushy, mahe. You want I charge piracy? You want I say you try damn underhanded trick with customs? I want to talk to the stationmaster, I want to talk right now, and no more tricks!"

  "Stationmaster indispos'"

  "Indisposed like the stsho ambassador? Indisposed like run for Iji?"

  "You talk wild, hani. No. Indispos' like not take time talk with every damn' fool got problem."

  Damn' fool was close to the point. Something was seriously wrong at Urtur, and the more they suspected she knew the less likely she was to get out of this room, much less out of the port. Far better to have played outraged trader.

  "I want my ship cleared! I want customs clearance, I want my record cleared, I want to sell my cargo when and if and at what price I choose, and I want an end of interference with my business."

  "You want tell what sort object you carry?"

  "No, I don't. It's none of your gods-rotted business! You get out from in front of that door, you get yourself and your crew out of my way! This is a public office. If I don't see a badge, an authorization, or a personage, I'm not giving you anything. And if you try to hold me, my ship — a Chanur ship — is going to carry a complaint to the Compact."

  "You be calm, be calm, hani. This get to very silly point. You listen to me. You walk 'round station talk about dangerous business, name dangerous stuff, you come in this office make demand in front of witness you don't know by damn who, you try get throat cut?"

  "Open that door!"

  "A' right, a' right. — Rahe'ish' taij meh, jai."

  The mahendo'sat with him moved aside from the door.

  "Against the wall!" she said.

  "You got damn poor idea who give orders in this room, hani!"

  "I got damn good idea you got no authority to give orders. Or you can clear the papers. You want big blow-up you just keep going."

  "Clear papers. I clear papers. All right!" Haisi spat out a torrent of mahendi instructions, only half of which she could understand, but which got the clerks cautiously out from under the desks and brought the customs agent back from the office in the rear.

  The door opened, from the other side. Station police stood there, armed with pistols and ready for trouble. Someone had called them. Probably from the back office.

  Fine, Hilfy thought. G
reat.

  "Small misunderstanding," Haisi said, with a wave of his hand. And said something to the police, low and fast. Stationmaster, she caught that word: stsho; and ambassador. And trouble. But she could guess that one.

  The Personage of Urtur was ruffled. Highly. The Personage of Urtur found the business too evidently distressful, and abandoned it to her Voice, a towering mahe with a furious scowl.

  "You disrupt whole office, you got clerk scare' like bunch pirate, what for you damn' fool action?"

  "Ask him! He blocked the door, wouldn't let honest citizens in or out!" You didn't yell at the Personage of Urtur. The Personage of Urtur didn't debate such matters. The Voice did. And Hilfy found her ears persistently flattening. She made every effort to keep a pleasant look on her face, and to keep to logical points, when at the same time the Voice tried to provoke gut level reactions. She wanted to make mincemeat out of Haisi Ana-kehnandian — who sat smoking like a factory, with a frown on his face.

  The Voice did ask Ana-kehnandian, evidently. The two of them talked back and forth in one of Ijir's numerous languages, in which the Voice grew quieter and quieter, and even good-humored — which suggested, first, they had no wish for the hani foreigner to understand; and second, they were out of the same district of Ijir, and therefore Haisi Ana-kehnandian must be a good upstanding fellow.

  This went on and on and back and forth, and in the meanwhile the Personage sat surveying the potted plant on her desk and frowning mightily.

  "You make mess in customs office," the Voice then said in the pidgin. "Personage not happy. You make lot public mess, scare people—"

  "I take it the Personage understands the Trade. Ask the Personage whether she has given any authority to this person to harass my crew, threaten me, create a riot in customs, hold my cargo for ransom, and ask personal questions about a stsho passenger who's never set foot on this station nor applied for local customs clearance. I feared firearms were present. I went over that desk in protection of my life! This advised innocent persons to take cover, for their personal safety! This fool committed the aggression, by blocking the exit in an aggressive manner, in the clear intent to do violence!"

  That prompted another conference, a lengthy one. And more frowns from Haisi.