"He not stay. Got no reason stay." Another expansive puff of smoke. "He quick learn we go Kefk, a? So he come. He leave Mkks, come Kefk number one quick, pay you visit."
Wrinkles chained up Sikkukkut's snout. "So by aiding me you aid Mkks."
"You right, friend."
"Hunter Pyanfar, where are your loyalties in this?"
"Myself. My crew. My friends. Jik wants us there, I don't doubt we'll talk about it."
"So. And a promise. Will you keep it?"
"Thought kif didn't have the word."
"You do."
She scowled. "I do."
"Then take your human as a gift. Join us. I will give the orders in this attack. I will personally provide you information on Kefk defenses."
"Jik?"
"You promise. Got no problem."
She shot Jik one long, burning look. But he did not look her way, studying instead the contents of his glass. She looked back over the rifle barrel balanced on her knee.
"Jik and I will talk about it."
"You go," Jik said.
"Huh," she said.
"She promise."
"Excellent." Sikkukkut unfolded upward from his chair. There was a stir among the kif. "You are all free. Take that as my gift."
He drew back. Blackrobed kif surrounded them.
"Tully." Pyanfar reached out and nudged Tully with her foot, her rifle in both hands. "Tully. Up. We get you out of here. You walk, Tully."
He gathered himself up, holding to Sikkukkut's vacated chair, and stood wobbling on his feet. No one said anything. Likely Rhif Ehrran was choking on what she wanted to say about the situation, but it was not the time or place for it. Pyanfar stood up and let her rifle hang at carry, laid her hand on Tully's bare, claw-streaked shoulder. It was icy cold. There was a deep and healing wound on his arm. Come on," she said. "With us."
He walked. Geran took his arm with her left hand, her right on the butt of her pistol. Jik was up—he had the stick still in his mouth, and drew yet another puff on the foul thing. Rhif Ehrran was on her feet and drew her own crew into retreat.
It was a long walk through the silent kifish crowd to the door, a slow one, at Tully's pace. But they made it out into the comparatively bright light of the docks, the atmosphere laden with oils and volatiles that hit like a gust of fresh air after the closeness of the meeting hall.
Khym walked along with them, Haral out in front. Tirun carried her rifle left-handed to keep Tully on his feet, with Jik and Rhif Ehrran bringing up the rear. Pyanfar cast a look back: gods, Jik was puffing on that filthy thing all the way and scattering ashes as he went. But kif kept hands off them. There were stares from the crowd outside, and there was muttering, but nothing worse.
"You get quick you ship," Jik said, as Pyanfar fell back to walk beside him. "Got lot work, hani, lot work."
"It's your intention to go through with this," Rhif Ehrran said.
"Number one sure. You want wait here, say hello Akkhtimakt? Got also other big trouble. That stsho go out from here. Maybe go Kshshti—maybe instead go Kefk, a, on way to Meetpoint. Maybe talk too much. Stsho lot talk. Not good thing we get compli-cation. Stsho make same, a? Go."
"There's a limit to what treaty makes me liable to. We'll discuss this, na Jik."
"Fine. Same time you lay course. We do same. I tell you, I bet some kif leave here, go Kshshti. They tell Akkhtimakt what happen here at Mkks, we got small time. Akkhtimakt got fast ship. Same got trouble with kif maybe go Harak. Same trouble stsho go Kefk—lot smart, stsho: maybe got rumor already Akkhtimakt come Kshshti, so run damn quick go Kefk, go Meetpoint'—maybe Tt’v’va'o, maybe Llyene— Bet Sikkukkut lot unhappy not stop that ship."
"You've stopped coinciding with han interests."
"A. Then maybe wish you goodbye, lot luck. Akkhtimakt eat you heart."
"You foul this up—"
"—he eat mine. Number one sure, hani. Akkhtimakt want me, long time." He put his hand amid Rhif Ehrran's back and hastened them along. "Best we move, a?"
"Kefk, for the gods' sake," Pyanfar muttered.
"Easy stuff."
"Then why for the gods' sake hasn't Sikkukkut done It?"
"Sfik." Jik took the stick from his mouth and blew a cloud of smoke. "Need sfik, make convince other kif, a? Now he got us. We all got lot sfik, le-gi-ti-macy, a?"
"Lunacy," she muttered.
"You run, good friend?"
"Gods rot it, you'd find some reason why not."
Jik grinned and put the stick back in his mouth. "You owe me. When Chanur ever default on debt, a?"
"Gods rot your hide."
She strode along by him, cast occasional looks back, as Ehrran's crew did. Gods, get us off this dock. More and more kif appeared along the way, all chittering and chattering among themselves. Our allies. Gods!
And Tully limped along at his own pace, doing the best he could.
There was the safe area ahead, that portion of the dock under surveillance from their own guns. They reached it, and Pyanfar looked back. The kif had not followed them across that imaginary line . . . thank the gods.
"We're safe," an Ehrran crewwoman said. Ehrran crew stood out from cover on the docks; a few of Jik's were visible.
"We're all right," Haral said by pocket com, now that they came in range of The Pride's dockside pickup. "Haral speaking. We got him. He's all right."
Some answer came back. Pyanfar did not hear. She saw Rhif Ehrran sweep a signal to her own crew as they passed the dockage of Ehrran's Vigilance,—not a signal to turn in there, but to come with her. Rhif Ehrran lengthened stride; and stopped Tirun and Tully and Geran at the foot of The Pride's docking area, with a grip on Tully's arm. "The human's safer in our keeping," Rhif said. "We'll take him."
"No," Pyanfar said, overtaking. "Gods rot it, Ehrran, we'll discuss it somewhere else. Get out of the way. We got kif back there—let go of him. He's had enough! Gods fry you, that's crew you've got your hands on." She launched a blow of her own and it brought up short on Jik's out-thrust arm.
"I take," Jik said. "/ take, hear."
"By the gods you don't. No! He's listed crew of mine. Gods rot you, let him go—"—as Haral decked an Ehrran crewwoman and mayhem broke loose, one brawling knot with Tully in the midst. Pyanfar elbowed Jik and shoved her way in as Khym did.
"Out!" Khym yelled, a male hani voice, that shocked echoes off the overhead; he dived amid the mess and snatched Tully to himself. He grinned at Ehrran, ears flat, with Tully crushed against his chest.
It stopped, it all stopped.
"I'm crazy," Khym said. "Remember?"
And it was in Pyanfar's own head that he truly might go berserk. She opened her mouth, shut it. Tully was not struggling. He held on, fists clenched in the fur of Khym's shoulders. And Ehrran waited for the bloody bits and pieces to start flying. Male and male. Tully hanging in Khym's grip like an unstrung toy.
"He's Chanur crew, isn't he?" Khym rumbled. "Like me." He swung Tully up into both arms, the rifle swinging loose from his elbow—good gods, the safety off on a gun fit to hole armor plate. Tully's head lolled back, his limbs suddenly gone loose. "We going inside, captain?"
"Move it," Pyanfar said. Her heart started beating again.
"Hnhunnh. Excuse me." Khym walked deliberately through Ehrran's ranks, swinging to clear Tully's legs.
"Chanur," Rhif Ehrran said.
"I know. You'll file a protest. Get your crew out of my crew's way, or they'll be picking fur out of the filters all over Mkks."
"Damn fool," Jik muttered. He pinched out his stick and dropped it into a pouch. "Move! You think we got no witness?" He jerked a hand toward the watching kif, far off down the dock. "What want? Entertain them?"