A pause. “–Our demand is just. The damages of four hundred million must be paid
and the lawsuits must be settled–”
“Collect it from the kif.”
“–If The Pride of Chanur undocks without payment it will violate treaty and
application for reparations will go to the hem. Now this message would be more
convenient than usual to deliver.”
She sucked in her breath. Gods. For a stsho, the old bastard had a certain
flair.
“–Your response.”
“Bargain. On the one hand we will countersue. If we lose we will appeal to the
court at Llhie nan Tie, to Tpehi, to Llyene, and the case will go on for years
— while gtst remain legally responsible for holding our goods in warehouse
while litigation proceeds.”
“–This might be acceptable.”
“On the other hand-on the other hand, esteemed director–”
“–Get quickly to this other hand.”
“If the request for payment were otherwise phrased, and if Meetpoint makes
itself responsible for all present and future lawsuits out of the settlement,
money might be forthcoming.”
“–Please restate. Was this an offer of payment?”
“The station assumes full financial responsibility for present and future suits
and reparations arising from the riot, releases all cargo claims, trades with
our factors at listed station exchange rates, and provides us one unified bill
for The Pride’s damage repair.”
“Please restate, Chanur captain. This translator understood ‘ship damage
repair.'”
“You have it right.”
A delay. “–This smacks of illegality.”
“Absolutely not. We will swear to damages suffered by The Pride during the
disturbances. Never mind what kind. I’m sure you have the talent to word it so
we can both sign it.”
“Please; please, this translator must be correct”
“You’ve got it. You clear our record, expedite us out, and pad that gods-rotted
bill as much as you want. I’ll meet you on the dock with the credit
authorization in a quarter hour.”
“–This is subterfuge. Chanur is known destitute.”
“Revise your information, esteemed director. Chanur just called in a debt.”
Prolonged silence.
“Well?”
“Excuse, esteemed Chanur captain. This will take consideration.”
“You by the gods get me out of here.”
More silence. “Please be discreet.”
“Would the esteemed director contact me on an unsecure channel? The esteemed
director is no fool. It would not be profitable for gtst to appeal to the han,
in whatever form. This would surely tie up the funds in litigation.” She turned
and motioned furiously at Haral. “Legal release,” she said into the pickup; and
to Haral, and her eyes fell on Khym once-lord-Mahn, on a tense expression turned
her way. She motioned at him, listening with one ear to stsho dithering. Do it,
she mouthed. “–Listen, I told you, pad the bill all you want. I’m not coming to
the office again. You’re coming to the docks and you’re going to sign a release
for all damages, hear that?”
There was frantic activity to her right. Haral had comp reeling up legal forms
and Khym was leaning over her shoulder muttering corrections and wordings.
By the gods, Mahn’s ex-lord, ex-legal counsel. In his element.
She grinned at the mike and listened to more blather. “Simply put,” she said to
the director, once Stle stles stlen, “you sign ours, we sign yours, we get our
papers clear and our cargo sold for top going rate, and you can show the High
Director at Nsthen you got full compensation, right? Otherwise you report unpaid
damages. Which do you want?”
“The director relays to you gtst profound distress that Chanur should have been
slandered by fools. Gtst is sending you the papers at once and further sends you
a gift to make amends for this misunderstanding.”
“Chanur will reciprocate in acknowledgment of the director’s wisdom in detecting
these slanders.” She searched rapidly through the data bin for the appropriate
forms, copied those, snagged the one that Harai thrust into her hand, fully
printed, bilingual in stshoshi and ham and ready for signature. “Profound
gratitude, yes.” She broke the contact and flipped the documents looking for key
clauses. “Watertight?”
“Full release,” Khym said.
“It had better be.” She gathered up all the papers, spun the chair on its
mechanism. “Eyes back to that scan, hear?”
“You need escort, captain?” Haral asked.