Chanur’s Legacy by C.J. Cherryh

Five cups, in which Fala contrived not to spill anything on the white cushions, in which their juniormost acquitted herself with commendable self-possession.

“We hope your honor has been comfortable such as our hospitality has been able to provide.”

“We have survived. We are composed. The Preciousness in our possession is unmolested. We could not ask more of your meager circumstances.”

Snobbish son.

“May your honor,” gtst asked, “choose to inform us of the matter which troubles your peace?”

“Regarding the intended recipient of the oji.”

“The Preciousness.”

“The Preciousness. Would it surprise your honor in the least to know that the intended recipient has—em— quit gtst post?”

Shocked pale eyes lifted and centered on her face. “Impossible.”

So gtst did not know in advance. Perhaps her surmises were unjust and mistaken.

“Quit gtst post so far as the mahendo’sat have been willing to inform me. Should they have reason to lie? One of them has been quite forward in asking me to allow him access here.”

“No! A thousandfold no! This is insupportable. This is unthinkable!” Paint spilled as gtst jostled the bottle. “Oh, where are my servants? The paint, the precious pigments, —oh, my predecessors, oh, my honor, oh, my reputation, oh, I am wounded! I perish, wai! I perish!”

It was blotting furiously—impossible to tell whether the migration of Atli-lyen-tlas was the shock, or the paint, or the reference to mahendo’sat, but gtst was highly agitated, breathing in great gasps, and Fala came running, cups rattling on the tray, all the while the honorable was fighting for breath and clear as clear was the possibility of a dissolution before their eyes.

“Be calm!” Hilfy said, unsure whether to lay hands on the creature or not. “Be calm! Your honor is not in question, most honorable, most excellent! Calm yourself, breathe quietly—“

The stsho did listen. Moonstone eyes gazed at her in shock, a paint-spattered hand clutched a paint-stained fold of gtst robe to gtst breast, and it shook and trembled and lifted and lowered gtst plume-augmented crest in high agitation.

“We are empowered to search further!” Hilfy said, reaching for vocabulary. What was the ceremonial deferative singular for “personality disintegration” and was it appropriate to use it? “You are in no wise responsible for this, honorable! There is every possibility gtst excellency foresaw such an event—we find it in the contract!”

“In the contract.”

“In the contract, honorable.”

“But gtst excellency should have confided in me, gtst excellency has dishonored me—“

“Gtstexcellency has entrusted you with the Preciousness. Has gtst not? Or should we not question that? Should we ask what is in that box?”

Moonstone eyes went wide and horrified. And gtst looked up and up and around, where the shipping box sat within its braces.

“Must we not be certain? Would you recognize the Preciousness if you saw it?”

“Of course! Of course! Oh, the villainy in your mind!” Tlisi-tlas-tin scrambled to an undignified exit from the chair, trailing paint-soaked robes over the white cushions and the tiles of the floor, gtst long fingers sought the shipping latches and undid them, waving Fala’s offered help away in indignation. Gtst undid the latches of the box itself, and Hilfy held her breath, unbearably driven to reach out restraining hands in case it should fall.

But there in the plush white liner sat a white, carved—vase, one supposed. Is this it? Hilfy wondered; Fala looked puzzled; but Tlisi-tlas-tin sank down with a sigh and fluttered gtst fingers, held a hand to gtst chest, and muttered, “I am vindicated. I am vindicated, gtst excellency has not lied to me.”

“We had no doubt of your honor,” Hilfy ventured to say, and stood by as Tlisi-tlas-tin picked gtstself off the pastel-smeared floor, in the wreckage of gtst finery. Gtst struck as belligerent and proud a pose as a creature could, that a gust of breath could shatter.

“But this is a pen for animals! I cannot possibly abide these circumstances! Look at me! The Precious-ness cannot abide in this wreckage! My honor! My reputation!”

Hilfy thought of another word, but she bowed with great courtesy and smiled. “We are of course concerned. We will act instantly to rectify this unfortunate circumstance.”

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