“Aye,” Hilfy said, and it went. Pyanfar bit at a hangnail and watched Kefk station in its slow turning at the highest magnification The Pride could use. Definitely mahen-type craft. Definitely. Not their stsho. That stsho had to have gotten through unscathed: it would take phenomenal luck for even hair-triggered kif guardstations to stop a through-bound starship that meant to jump out again without pausing. There was small chance a sedentary force could fire anything that could intercept a high- V transit-unless they were virtually in its path. That was the nature of stations. That was their vulnerability. And the vulnerability of ships that shed V and went to dock.
“Message from Vigilance,” Hilfy said. “They confirm. Central’s secured. They indicate we’re to come ahead with caution.”
“Thank them,” Pyanfar muttered absently. They haven’t noticed? Ehrran came into a kif station denied a shiplist and never tried the vid? Jik didn’t? In a mahen hell. Jik knows there’s a ship here that doesn’t belong. And Rhif Ehrran can’t be that much of a fool. What are they together on? Do they know that ship?
She fired retros. Hard.
“Huhhh!” Haral said. Hearts must have leapt all across the bridge.
“We’re off-pattern,” Tirun said calmly then; and Hilfy: “Message from Kefk, from our escort, they query-”
“We just missed a rock,” Pyanfar said. “Tell them sweep their lousy lanes, huh?”
“We going to take a look at that ship?” Haral asked, having figured it out for herself.
“Gods-be right we are.” She had just thrown The Pride off the auto-approach timing with the station’s revolutions. Now they had to revise their figures and fuss about with revised lane-assignment and approach. A few judicious pulses might put them closer to station on a timing that would swing that surplus ship under the camera’s scrutiny.
“Gods,” Haral said, “priority, priority-we show that knnn’s engines live on the rim.”
“Gods be.” Pyanfar scanned a ripple of new information across her screens, heard Khym talking urgently on one channel while Hilfy queried the other-“We’ve got that information,” Khym said. “-Py, Jik says-”
-a new image came up. Scan.
“-it’s moving out from dock, gods, gods, look at that thing travel.”
“Get it, get it-Chur, help, I’ve fouled it!” “Kkkt, Kkkkt.”
-“Priority, priority-it’s transmitting-Tc’a’s answering.”
Knnn-song wailed over com. Tc’a-matrix flashed up, totally numerical.
“What’s that?” From Khym.
“I’ve got translator on it,” Hilfy said. “Our tc’a escort’s talking to the knnn.”
“Kefk transmission,” Tirun said. “Methane-side’s talking on several wavelengths.”
“Keep going,” Pyanfar said and gnawed her mustaches. “We keep on approach until they try to stop us.”
“-Priority: Translation: query, query, query, from the knnn. Tc’a response: indeterminate. Translator can’t get it. Shall we query?”
“Negative, negative on the query. Steady as we go.”
More matrix came up.
Tc’a knnn kif kif hani mahe mahe Mkks Kefk Mkks Kefk Mkks Kefk Mkks Kefk go Kefk Kefk Kefk Kefk Kefk
“Sounds like it’s just talking to the knnn,” Haral muttered.
“Tc’a’s holding course, on the average. Gods-knnn’s shifting to match-o good gods-”
“-Priority,” Hilfy said. “Kefk’s giving us a new lane assignment. They’re scheduling us on in.”
“Knnn?” Tully asked. “What do, what do?”
“Hush,” said Chur. “Quiet. It’s not … not … doing anything, it’s just out there.”
“We’re just going on in, Tully. Quiet.”
“Kkkkt. Kkkkkt. Kkkkkt.”
“Shut up.” From Tirun. “Or we give you to it.”
“Easy, easy,” Pyanfar muttered. “Chur-you all right?”
“Priority-Jik’s advising us come on.”
“Knnn’s close-close to our line; intercept with the tc’a, looks like-”
“There-it’s not on our numbers-” Geran said.
“That’s match with the-Tc’a’s moving. There’s the knnn-”
“Track it. Get vid.”
“Trying,” Haral said. “Gods-be-”
Image came up, magnified in a series of jolts, the tc’a’s jumbled planes in its running lights and floods: the flare of fire where the knnn was-no running lights, no numbers, no names: the knnn took no care in navigation at all and obeyed no lanes. It was out there, that was all-it showed on scan. Fire showed. Braking.
“That’s intercept with the tc’a,” Geran reported. “Minus 23, 22, 2-”
Goldtooth was back there-minutes outside the timeline and taking cues from what old information got to him. He might have spotted the knnn by now. Might be doing anything. Or he might be waiting on cues from them. Slowing down-continuing at V-anything was potential provocation with a knnn. Pyanfar gnawed her mustaches and spat them out again, her heart pounding against her ribs.