Think, fool. That kif’s either fired or talked out there, the other side of Light. Do one or the other.
“Com to my board.” The readylight flashed link to com one. Gods, they got our message wavefront out there, everything Chur’s sent out, kifish and human: and they can’t crack the human stuff. “Get scan relayed out there, give ’em everything we know. Fast.” She punched the mike in. “Harukk, welcome to Anuurn: this is Pyanfar Chanur, aboard The Pride of Chanur. Akkhtimakt is defeated, his ships have defected, praise to the hakkikt. If enemies follow you we are ready.”
“That’s by the gods sure,” Haral said under her breath, when she punched out. Haral’s ears were flat. Pyanfar found her left hand clenched on the seat, claws right through the leather.
So what’s he done? Fired or talked?
Farther and farther.
“They’re dumping!” Geran yelled, and a yell and a collective breath and a gasp went through the bridge. “Thank gods,” someone said. Tully muttered something humanist) and faint.
“Keep transmitting that message,” Pyanfar ordered. “Repeat, repeat.”
“We’ve got it going,” Hilfy said.
Five ships. Five, six ships in the system now. Harukk and Ikkhoitr. And another one. Seven.
How many? Gods, how many? Did he get away free? Run early and save his ships?
He’s got to have lost some. At Meetpoint. At Kura, if the mahendo’sat got there from Ajir. They’ve got to have done that. Run them through that gauntlet and peel a bit more flesh off them. Give us some help, for godssakes!
Eight now. Nine and ten, widely separated.
“Priority,” Hilfy said, “from Harukk-com: gods, it’s code, we got some kind of code, it’s for those ships back there. …”
“Keep our transmission going.”
The ache grew around her heart, grew and grew. The blood pounded in her temples. Not a sound from the ships around them, nothing from the ships behind, yet … yet. Light had a little lagtime for them.
“Nekekkt’s answering,” Hilfy said. “All code.”
So what are you doing, Skkukuk? What are you up to? Who’s in charge on that ship?
Twelve. Thirteen ships. Fourteen.
“Priority.” Com came through direct to her earplug. “Instruction from the hakkikt, praise to him. Restore buoy output to our ships. Surrender this system and all its ships instantly. It will exist under the authority of my skku Pyanfar Chanur, whose orders come from me. Cease all hostilities. You are dealing with the mekt-hakkikt Sikkukkut an’nikktukktin, who allots the rule of this system and its adjuncts to his vassal Chanur.”
She let the breath hiss softly. Gods-be, what must they think now, Rhean and Anfy and Harun and Banny and the rest-what in a mahen hell do the kif back behind me think, and what kind of a move have I made with Skkukuk?
Then: Gods help me, I’ve got it, I’ve got it all, everything in my hands to protect, my people, my allies. He’s not shooting.
Now what do I do?
“Reply: Pyanfar Chanur to the mekt-hakkikt Sikkukkut an’nikktukktin, praise to his foresight, his enemies are under my hand.”
Ambiguity. Gods save us all.
Haral had looked her way. And there was that little black thing slinking back from the galley, in a hurry, as if Tauran crew in there had done something violent.
“Smart is all we got,” she said to Haral. “I remember what Goldtooth said. We get this situation calmed down a little and then I go for a little visit to Harukk. That’s what. We take Goldtooth’s suggestion. Snuggle up to this kif and get him.”
“The two of us,” Haral said.
“No. You got a ship to run. Get our V and Harukk’% matched, that’s what we got to do. I’d hit him now if we had the angle and his V to use, but we can’t break through those shields, slow as we are.”
Haral kept looking at her. She was talking about suicide. Haral knew it. Haral also knew the other plain fact, that their armaments were nothing against hunter-ship armor-unless one or the other in the encounter had C-fractional velocity to add to the impact, virtually head-on. And Sikkukkut, praise to his wily kifish heart, was not obliging them.