And: “I’m sorry, that’s not quite possible.”
The lift worked-Pyanfar turned the chair half about to glance down the corridor, nervous reflex with a kif aboard and Ehrran crew on guard in The Pride’s airlock.
Hilfy was coming bridgeward in some haste. Ears back.
Eyes dark, when she had gotten past the door.
“Aunt. What’s this Kefk business?”
Pyanfar swung the chair all the way about in Hilfy’s direction and leaned her head back on the cushions. Nobody came onto The Pride’s bridge and used that tone to her. But Hilfy-Hilfy wanted latitude lately, Pyanfar gave it. “We’re going there, yes. Got a bit of business to take care of.”
“Kif business?”
Her own ears went down. She saw the fracture-lines in Hilfy, the unreason. And said nothing for a breath.
“Well, is it?”
“Jik’s business. Look, we got a bill to pay, niece. A godsrotted big bill.”
“To whom?”
“Jik, for one.” In spite of herself her heart raced, her ears lay back, her claws jerked half out of sheaths and gouged the upholstery. “Jik. You think I got the influence to pull a mahen hunter-ship and a han deputy in here to help us bail you out without some tradeoff? You’re expensive, niece.”
That slapped young Hilfy in the face. The whites showed her eyes’ corners. Her nostrils dilated. “What do we do, then?”
“What we do-” Pyanfar’s voice cracked, utter weariness. She waved a hand. Hilfy wavered there on her feet in no better condition. It was madness. All of them were that tired. “What we do, niece, is what we’re set to do, whatever we’re set to do. Yes, we go into Kefk. I don’t see we have much choice. Debts are being called in. We don’t doublecross Jik. Even Ehrran’s going on this one. Don’t ask me why. To spy, that’s gods-rotted sure. For us, it’s what I said. Debts. We got you out. Best I could do.”
“We’ve got a kif on this ship.”
“Not my choice.”
“What is, lately?”
She did not believe for a moment she had heard that; and then her muscles moved, one convulsion that took her from the chair. And Hilfy backed up, stood there with her ears flattened and dismay on her face, as if she did not believe she had said it either.
Khym climbed from his chair; his ears were back; and that was trouble on two feet.
“How much territory do I give you?” Pyanfar asked. “What are you due, huh?” Down the corridor the lift doors had opened again. Chur and-gods-Tully both were on their way to the bridge, faster than either of them ought; while all about the bridge there was a dire silence, whisper of leather as crew turned in their chairs. “You got some particular recommendation, niece?”
“No.” The word got out, finally. Chur and Tully arrived on the bridge, all but carrying each other at the last.
“Maybe you better go back on break,” Pyanfar said. “We’ve got work to do.”
“Gods rot it, aunt-”
“I got you out! Gods and thunders, Hilfy Chanur, you want to argue method with me?”
Tully pushed off from the counter edge-feckless, fever-crazy, wandering between two mad hani. But he stopped there wobbling back and forth with panic in his eyes.
So she understood then; and had a look at the way things had been among the kif. So all the crew did. Further things she did not want to surmise. Hilfy took Tully by the shoulders and carefully set him to the vacant side, where Khym was not, back in Chur’s keeping.
There was deathly silence after that, with only the beep and flash of unliving things.
“Hilfy,” Pyanfar said, and sank into her chair. “Hilfy-” -hearing those beeps and the chatter of incoming printout. “We’re all tired. We’re not up to this. Other ships have got other shifts, crew to spare-Geran, put a call over to Jik. Tell him fry his gods-rotted schedule; we’re going offline. Hilfy: when we picked up Jik, he’d had a skirmish with the kif somewhere. He’d twisted Akkhtimakt’s tail, right well. We don’t know where Akkhtimakt is right now, but he wants our hides, no question of it. Sikkukkut swears it was Akkhtimakt’s agents blew Kshshti docks to blazes and made a grab for you and Tully-“