it."
Ehrran's nostrils widened and narrowed. "What did the kif give you, Chanur?"
A cold wind went down her back. Distantly she heard the crane whining away,
lifting a can into place. "Dropped a ring," she said, "in the riot. Kif returned
it." The lie disgusted her. So did the fear the Ehrran roused, and knew she
roused. "This what the han's got to? Inquisitions? Gathering bad eggs?"
It scored. Ehrran's ears turned back, forward again. "You've about exited
private territory, Chanur. You settle this mess. If there are repercussions with
the stsho, I'll become involved. Hear me?"
"Clear." Breath was difficult. "Now you mind if I see to my business, captain?"
"You know," Ehrran said, "you're in deep. Take my advice. Drop off your
passenger when you get back to Anuurn."
Her heart nearly stopped while Ehrran turned and walked away; but it was Khym
Ehrran had meant. She realized that in half a breath more, and outrage nearly
choked her. She glared at Banny Ayhar, just glared, with the reproach due
someone who dragged the like of Ehrran in on a private quarrel.
"Not my doing," Ayhar said.
"In a mahen hell."
"I can't reason with you," Ayhar said, flung up her hands and stalked off.
Stopped again, to cast a look and a word back. "Time you got out of it, Pyanfar
Chanur. Time to pass it on before you ruin that brother of yours for good."
Pyanfar's mouth dropped. Distracted as she was she simply stared as Ayhar spun
on her heel a second time and stalked off along the dock with her two crewwomen;
and then it was too late to have said anything without yelling it impotently at
a retreating Ayhar back.
The first can boomed up the cargo ramp into the cradle; Tirun and Geran kicked
their own balky Loader around with expert swiftness, raised the slot's holding
sling and snagged it into the moving ratchets that vanished into The Pride's
actinic-lighted hold. The can ascended the ramp, while Chur, beside the crane
operator on the loader, shouted at the aggrieved mahe, urging her to speed.
"Chur!" Pyanfar yelled, headed for the ramp-way and the tube beyond. Chur left
off and scrambled after, leaving the docksiders to their jobs. Pyanfar jogged
the length of The Pride's ramp and felt a stitch in her side as Chur came up
beside her in the accessway.
A han agent on their case.
A chance to get rid of Tully into the keeping of that same agent and she had
turned it down.
Gods. O gods.
They scrambled through the lock, headed down the short corridor to the lift,
inside. The door hissed shut as Pyanfar hit the controls to start the car down,
rim-outward of The Pride's passenger-ring.
"Got it?" Haral's voice came to them by com.
"Gods know," she said to the featureless com panel, forcing calm. "Keep an eye
on those kif back there -- hear me?"
"Looks as if the party's broken up for good out there."
"Huh." It was a small favor. She did not believe it.
"Aye," Haral agreed, and clicked out of contact. The lift slammed into the
bottom of the rotation ring and took a sudden jolt afterward for the holds.
"Know which can?" Chur panted beside her, clinging to the rail.
"Gods, no. You think Goldtooth labeled the gods-rotted thing? Couldn't use the
small cans, no. Couldn't consign it direct to us. Had to trust the stsho.
Gods-rotted mahen lunatic."
The lift accelerated full out, lurched to a second stop and opened its door on a
floodlit empty cavern of tracks below the operations platform where they stood.
Their breaths frosted instantly. Moisture in the hold's lately acquired air
formed a thin frost on all the waiting cans and the machinery. The cold of the
deckplates burned bare feet. The gusting blasts of the ventilation system
brought no appreciable relief to unprotected hani skin and nose linings.
"Hilfy?" Pyanfar shouted, leaning on the safety railing to look down into the
dark. Hilfy-Hilfy-Hilfy the echo came back in giant's tones.
"Aunt!" A figure in a padded cold-suit crouched far below the
Ehrran's nostrils widened and narrowed. "What did the kif give you, Chanur?"
A cold wind went down her back. Distantly she heard the crane whining away,
lifting a can into place. "Dropped a ring," she said, "in the riot. Kif returned
it." The lie disgusted her. So did the fear the Ehrran roused, and knew she
roused. "This what the han's got to? Inquisitions? Gathering bad eggs?"
It scored. Ehrran's ears turned back, forward again. "You've about exited
private territory, Chanur. You settle this mess. If there are repercussions with
the stsho, I'll become involved. Hear me?"
"Clear." Breath was difficult. "Now you mind if I see to my business, captain?"
"You know," Ehrran said, "you're in deep. Take my advice. Drop off your
passenger when you get back to Anuurn."
Her heart nearly stopped while Ehrran turned and walked away; but it was Khym
Ehrran had meant. She realized that in half a breath more, and outrage nearly
choked her. She glared at Banny Ayhar, just glared, with the reproach due
someone who dragged the like of Ehrran in on a private quarrel.
"Not my doing," Ayhar said.
"In a mahen hell."
"I can't reason with you," Ayhar said, flung up her hands and stalked off.
Stopped again, to cast a look and a word back. "Time you got out of it, Pyanfar
Chanur. Time to pass it on before you ruin that brother of yours for good."
Pyanfar's mouth dropped. Distracted as she was she simply stared as Ayhar spun
on her heel a second time and stalked off along the dock with her two crewwomen;
and then it was too late to have said anything without yelling it impotently at
a retreating Ayhar back.
The first can boomed up the cargo ramp into the cradle; Tirun and Geran kicked
their own balky Loader around with expert swiftness, raised the slot's holding
sling and snagged it into the moving ratchets that vanished into The Pride's
actinic-lighted hold. The can ascended the ramp, while Chur, beside the crane
operator on the loader, shouted at the aggrieved mahe, urging her to speed.
"Chur!" Pyanfar yelled, headed for the ramp-way and the tube beyond. Chur left
off and scrambled after, leaving the docksiders to their jobs. Pyanfar jogged
the length of The Pride's ramp and felt a stitch in her side as Chur came up
beside her in the accessway.
A han agent on their case.
A chance to get rid of Tully into the keeping of that same agent and she had
turned it down.
Gods. O gods.
They scrambled through the lock, headed down the short corridor to the lift,
inside. The door hissed shut as Pyanfar hit the controls to start the car down,
rim-outward of The Pride's passenger-ring.
"Got it?" Haral's voice came to them by com.
"Gods know," she said to the featureless com panel, forcing calm. "Keep an eye
on those kif back there -- hear me?"
"Looks as if the party's broken up for good out there."
"Huh." It was a small favor. She did not believe it.
"Aye," Haral agreed, and clicked out of contact. The lift slammed into the
bottom of the rotation ring and took a sudden jolt afterward for the holds.
"Know which can?" Chur panted beside her, clinging to the rail.
"Gods, no. You think Goldtooth labeled the gods-rotted thing? Couldn't use the
small cans, no. Couldn't consign it direct to us. Had to trust the stsho.
Gods-rotted mahen lunatic."
The lift accelerated full out, lurched to a second stop and opened its door on a
floodlit empty cavern of tracks below the operations platform where they stood.
Their breaths frosted instantly. Moisture in the hold's lately acquired air
formed a thin frost on all the waiting cans and the machinery. The cold of the
deckplates burned bare feet. The gusting blasts of the ventilation system
brought no appreciable relief to unprotected hani skin and nose linings.
"Hilfy?" Pyanfar shouted, leaning on the safety railing to look down into the
dark. Hilfy-Hilfy-Hilfy the echo came back in giant's tones.
"Aunt!" A figure in a padded cold-suit crouched far below the
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