At last: “No more forms?”
“No, hani captain. All got.”
“Crew,” she demanded, for the third time and this time with a broad, broad
smile.
“Ship, hani captain; they long time got release. Same got release Ayhar clan. We
go you ship now.”
“Huh,” she said then, and took the open door, stalked out, with her mahen escort
to key the lift for her.
No other word. None seemed apt. She stared at the uninteresting pearl-gray of
the lift doors while the lift zigged and zagged its way through Meetpoint
station.
She thought, during that interval. Thought very dark wordless thoughts that
involved stsho hides and a certain mahe’s neck, until the lift stopped and
opened its doors on the cold air and noise of dockside.
She oriented herself with a quick glance at the nearest registry board, a black,
green-lit square above the number 14 berth: Assustsi. She drew a cold,
wide-nostriled breath of the dockside taint-oil and coolants, cargo and
food-smells and all the mongrel effluvium of Meet-point, like and unlike every
other station of the Compact.
Leftward was Vigilance’s berth, number 18. Ehrran clan ship. Doubtless someone
of the deputy’s staff was nosedeep in reports, writing it all up for the han in
the worst possible light. Gods knew what that white-skinned bastard had spilled
to willing ears.
Or what Ayhar had had to say, to save its own skin. Gods-be-bound that
Prosperity and Ayhar would never claim responsibility, financial or otherwise.
Chanur’s enemies in council would pounce on it, first chance.
She started walking, constantly aware of the two dark shadows that stalked
behind her, but ignoring them. Gantries towered and tilted in the curved
perspectives of the station wheel. The dock unfurled down off the curtaining
horizon as she walked, and she made out The Pride’s berth, counting down from
fourteen to six.
There should have been canisters outside The Pride’s berth. She made out none,
and thought further dark thoughts, still not looking back.
She passed berth 10, which had been Mahijiru. That berth was sealed completely,
the gantry drawn back with its lines in store-position. Number ten board
remained dark, not listing the name or registry of the outbound ship.
Malfunction. Indeed, malfunction.
Connivances, mahendo’sat with stsho-with stsho who ran before every wind that
blew — and now, with Mahijiru on the run and Goldtooth unable to break the
director’s neck in person — was the prevailing wind kif-tainted?
It rankled, gods, it rankled, that stsho had dared confront her, stsho, that she
could break with one swipe of her arm. And dared not. That was the crux of it.
Stsho showed one face to the kif, one to the mahendo’sat-yet a third to hani:
non-spacing, stsho law had regarded hani till a century ago, because (though
hani preferred not to recall the fact) it was the mahendo’sat had given hani
ships. An artificially accelerated culture. Hani were still banned from stsho
space, on their very border. Trade was at Meetpoint only, or inside non-stsho
space.
And hani in their good nature were patient with these fluttering dilettantes who
bought and sold-everything. They backed Chanur to the wall. It was stsho doing.
Everything. And the han being political, and the han being shortsighted, and
most of all because she was a fool who expected otherwise, Chanur was in trouble
at home. Of course the stsho knew it, sure as birds knew carrion-had gotten news
even a hani ship like Prosperity had not; and threw it up in her face at first
chance.
Gods, that the han fed stsho bigotry and wielded it for a weapon–
A deputy of the han has shown concern–
Or — a cold, fully sensible fear got past the outrage: the stsho had
independent sources and played everyone for a fool — Goldtooth, the han, even
the kif. They were capable of that. Thoroughgoing xenophobes and slippery as
oiled glass. Lately the stsho had a new xenophobia to keep them busy. They had
humankind to worry about, with concerns and motives world-bound hani had no
least idea of.
Goldtooth, rot you, how much does gtst know? How much the bribe? Nothing holds a
stsho that’s already paid.
Nothing persuades one against gtst own profit.