Chanur's Legacy by C. J. Cherryh Page B

come here from elsewhere at sometime—and Urtur was as good as anywhere. While chance and taking advantage of a local leak of information might have brought him to their ship, it was just as possible he was telling part of the truth—and he had known it and come here knowing it. Which meant others might
    They were offloading canisters as fast as the Legacy could cycle them out; and by tomorrow they had to be taking others aboard. They had to know as early as next morning whether they were going to pass over the Hoas cans and let another ship take the Hoas load. And that meant making a decision ... that meant signing or not signing.
    That meant solvency after this trip ... or still being involved in the deal even if they turned it down, dammit, because being Pyanfar’s niece, if she took the stsho object aboard, it said one thing; and if she refused, and it was some crazy stsho religious thing that brought down a friendly governor at Meetpoint—that was disaster.
    For once she wished she could ask Pyanfar. But if leaks were happening, they would proliferate. If the mane agent knew, his crew knew something; if his crew knew something, it could get to the docks; if the kifish guard knew, the kif they might be in collusion with knew; and if things had gone out over station com, then the com operators in station control might know, and so might their associates...
    In which case if she didn’t sign it and didn’t take the deal, and left here for Hoas, there were die-hards who would never believe they hadn’t the object aboard, and that it wasn’t all a ruse. So the minute one Haisi Ana-whatever knew anything about it—they were tagged with the stsho deal and the stsho object whether or not they actually had it.
    At least if they signed the deal and took it, they got paid.
    “Who we got to take the Hoas stuff?” she asked on com, when she got back to her office.
    “We taking the deal, captain?” Chihin asked. “Looks as if. Who do we have?” “Mahen trader. Notaiji. Just in, reputable ship. Regular runs to Hoas. Plenty of time to make the schedule and looking for a load. They don’t usually bid, just take what’s going and ship when they’re full-but this is up to their cap. Good deal for them.”
    She considered that an unhappy moment and two. Of course a mahen ship was all there was. Where was another hani ship, when a little obfuscation might have served them?
    “There are kif outbound. And a t’ca may be. But I didn’t ‘t consider them as options.”
    “No,” she said. Almost she had rather the t’ca. But getting the address and the disposition of cargo straight with a matrix brain was an exercise in frustration.
    And it might send the cans to OVo’o’ai, for all any of them could tell. It didn’t bother a t’ca shipper so , as far as anyone could figure out their economics But it played hell with one’s reputation with oxy-breathers.

Chapter Three
    The kid hadn’t had breakfast. He attacked the meat and eggs like a starveling, between trying to appreciate the kit, and the personal items.
    “Thought you could use them,” Tiar said, standing by the door, and due to be on other duties. But Hallan Meras was alternately shoving food in his mouth and opening packages. She had brought in nothing contraband, so far as she could figure, nothing he shouldn’t be let loose with. The captain hadn’t said anything about any restrictions, or given any impression she feared the kid would sabotage them. The captain hadn’t thought overmuch about the kid, by what Tiar could tell, not delegated anybody to get him breakfast, even if the captain had remembered about the torn trousers and sent her off to the market to do something about his wardrobe. Small wonder—but still ... where the kid sat, it hadn’t been a good morning.
    “Everybody thought you were still asleep,” she said, by way of apology.
    “I got up to work,” he said, and swallowed a hasty mouthful, looking at the silver-trimmed box.