“Huh. Yes.”
“They know it?”
“Tell you something, imp. There’s two strong reasons for one-jumping this. One
of them’s the kif.”
“Gods, aunt–”
“Tirun, you teaching the kid to swear?”
“How do we pay it?”
“It’s paid. Goldtooth paid it. He just doesn’t know it yet. Stand by the vector
shift. We’re not going out of here like last time. By the book, at least till we
get running room.”
They reached the l-zone limit, two-vectored as they were with station’s spin and
their own bow-thrust, headed tailfirst across the invisible mark. She gave the
port thrust a ten-second burn that slewed the bow about in the same line as spin
and gave comp its heading.
“But, aunt–”
The comp did the next burn, trueing up. “Put it this way. All of you listening?
There’s a little matter with the mahendo’sat. They’re paying the bar bill. Hear?
— Put her zero two on mark, Haral. Get the cameras working port-side.”
“Want a look at that kif?”
“Number one right, cousin. Geran, handle that.”
“Got it. Image to your four.”
The image came to fourth screen on her board, clear, fine color, the outside of
Meetpoint Station, a portion of its torus shape, the huge painted dock numbers
obscured here and there by ships nose-on to station. “Main that,” she said. The
drifting image went to all stations, the strange shape of a stsho trader, the
sleek, wicked silhouette of kif, leaner than they had to be; and one, one with
uncommonly large vanes and a series of tanks about the waist.
“Those tanks will blow off real easy,” she said. “Take a good look, Hilfy, Khym.
A real good look.”
“Hunter-ship,” Hilfy said.
“No trader. That’s for sure. Gods-rotted kif hunter. That’s Harukk, no need to
look for numbers.” She keyed the safety systems to *ADVISE ONLY* and pushed the
mains in hard.
G hit, pressed her elbow into the brace and triggered the over-arm lock that
held her hand within reach of the board. New system. It worked. She had rigged
The Pride with what protections they could afford, since Gaohn; handholds,
line-rigs, braces at all boards. A few extra firearms, quietly acquired.
“That’s the kif reason,” she said against the G. “And the other one for putting
a little hurry on — I’d like to beat a certain check to the bank.”
“Can we cover it?” Tirun’s voice, over com. “-Later?”
“Huh. That’s still Goldtooth’s problem.”
“What’s going on?” asked Khym.
Silence, except for ship noise, the long misery of acceleration.
“What’s going on?” he asked again.
“Just a business arrangement,” she said. “Hold onto your stomach. We’re coming
up on two-range. Going to give ourselves a boost.”
“Pyanfar–”
“Tell you later. Haral, set her up.”
“Captain, got another ship undocked,” Chur said from scan.
“Gods rot. Who?”
“Can’t tell yet. Station’s not talking. Stand by.”
They were not yet far enough and fast enough for C to play havoc with
information: not far enough and fast yet by far to be out of range of that sleek
kif ship back there.
That ship could start out a day late and be waiting for them on Urtur rim. No
question. She drew quiet small breaths against the G and calculated. A rush
after them made no sense, for a ship that fast.
It was not kif that had undocked. She was willing to bet not kif. It had no need
to race, being able to guess their course.
“Ship is knnn.”
“Oh, good gods.”
“What’s the matter?” (Khym.)
Knnn. Methane-breathing, dangerous and lunatic in their moves. No one wanted the
knnn stirred up.
And kif trouble might. Any trouble might.
“What’s the matter?” (Khym again).
“Long explanation,” Pyanfar muttered. “Hold the questions, Kyhm. We’re busy.”
“Com coming up,” Hilfy said.
An insane wailing came over com, knnn-song, which announced to the universe and
other knnn whatever it was the knnn thought good to say.
Or it was simply singing for its own amusement, and putting it out on com out of
thinking as obscure as the rest of its logic.
“Bearing zero two by fourteen.”
Askew for them. That meant nothing. Knnn ships obeyed different laws.
“Stand by that cycle,” she said, and listened for Haral’s acknowledgment. “Take