Chanur’s Legacy by C.J. Cherryh

“The august Director left here, perhaps you are aware—deep—into a territory—ahem—of utmost secrecy. Yes, she might oblige us, she is so extravagant in her good offices toward persons in distress. But we are extremely fortunate in your arrival. We were searching records to find a captain of sufficient— mmm—standing and respectability. Your arrival insystem is a most delightful surprise.”

One did not want another round of tea. And one could now regret one’s youthful enthusiasm for dealing in the other’s language. Avoiding a request at this point was something only a stsho could finesse—and one suspected, not at this disadvantage of rank. Did you want your ship to leave on time, your goods to stay unpilfered, most of all, did you want your manifest not to display some flaw four and five solar systems away that would cost you days and bribes to straighten out?

Gods rot the scoundrel. She wished this one had landed in aunt Py’s lap. Or possibly it had been about to, and aunt Py had suddenly decided on a course numerous light-years away.

“And how may we merit your good opinion?”

“I have a cargo,” said No’shto-shti-stlen, “ an object actually, which must get to Urtur, time being of the essence.”

“A precious object.”

“Most precious.”

“The favor of your trust overwhelms me. But may I ask? The nature of this object.”

Hands fluttered. Brows wavered. “An artwork.”

“Not living. Not animate.”

“Oh, no, no, no, nothing of the sort. But—“ Here it comes. They might have an offer. She was by no means certain she wanted it.

“—its delivery is, understand, liiyei.”

A guess, based on the Trade. “Ceremony. “

“Just so. Just so. But it must go immediately to Urtur.”

“Immediately.”

“Immediately. What will you charge? By no means be modest.”

“Its mass?”

“Oh, very small. I could lift it. Of a dimension …” Long, white fingers described an object about the size of one’s head.

“Fragile?”

“No more nor less than the cup you lately held. You are so modest. And perhaps have other cargo. Let me name a figure. A million in advance.”

Her throat stopped working. She extruded a claw and nudged the cup. The attendant hastened to fill it, and No’shto-shti-stlen’s.

“Is there some difficulty?”

No’shto-shti-stlen asked.

“By no means. If—I hesitate to impose upon your excellency’s already considerable generosity, but I have consignments to pick up here for Hoas port. —I might perhaps arrange a transfer of those orders—I’ve no contractual problems…”

“No difficulty. None at all. I take it these were open market contracts.”

“Open market, nothing illegal about an interline, but your excellency must understand, I have bonds requiring that delivery …”

“A trifle, a trifle. My personal guarantee. I personally will put a bond on the interline carrier for your entire and unexcepted protection.”

Too good to be true. “My ship certainly has the engines to make the jump, at low mass. But a million, while most generous as an offer… does the contract enjoin us from carrying other cargo?”

“Absolutely not. Whatever you can carry safely. And certainly— certainly we can assist you with priorities. Even—hm—information on low-mass stsho goods. I have a contract already drawn up.” From an alabaster box by the side of the bowl-chair No’shto-shti-stlen whisked a sole spot of blackness, a data-cube. “This has both the contract for transport and the authorization for the disbursement.”

“Cash at undocking.”

“Cash at undocking. The whole sum to be paid to the bank on signature of the contract, with no restriction on withdrawals once the oji is aboard.” A waggle of long fingers. And a tightly sewed-up set of conditions. “Of course one so honorable as yourself would need no contract. But for our mutual protection.”

“Of course.”

“Please accept three cases of the tea, to salve the inconvenience of diverting your ship.”

“I do not of course guarantee signing the contract. Please make the gift contingent on our agreement!”

“Your honor is impeccable in my eyes. No such stipulation. Please. Take it for your help in an additional difficulty.”

A sip of the tea. Definitely. Two sips. “Additional difficulty.”

“A matter in which your honor might, if you will, be a solution.”

“In what way might I be the solution of a problem so difficult?”

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