Выбрать главу

Ehrran commandeered assistance: Banny Ayhar of Ayhar's Prosperity was compelled to dump her cargo and come along as Ehrran’s ally—as they headed off in the only direction now open to travel.

Pyanfar barely reached Kshshti alive: The Pride, long running without needed repairs, broke down under the stress of the jump and limped into Kshshti to discover a welcoming committee in port: Rhif Ehrran, Banny Ayhar—and the same kif who had tried to buy Tully back at Meetpoint.

Now, this kif's name was Sikkukkut an'nikktukktin, once a vassal of Pyanfar's old enemy Akkukkak. Akkukkak in fact had had two lieutenants: Akkhtimakt and Sikkukkut; and the two of them were currently contending for primacy among kif Akkhtimakt was the one they had evaded on their way to Kshshti; Akkhtimakt had imposed the blockade not only to slop traffic, but to forestall his rival Sikkukkut—and lo! into Sikkukkut's reach came the whole mahendo'sat plan to out-maneuver the kif ... in the person of Pyanfar Chanur and Tully.

The mahendo'sat authorities at Kshshti knew what Sikkukkut was up to, and they were anxious to get The Pride out of there at any cost. They broke The Pride's old engine pack off the rear and began to install a new one, effectively rebuilding the ship, but as The Pride sat immobile in the last stages of repairs, kifish raiders kidnapped Tully and, by accident, Pyanfar's young niece Hilfy Chanur, gravely wounding Pyanfar's cousin Chur Anify.

Whoever began the fracas, Akkhtimakt's agents or Sikkukkut’s, it was undisputably Sikkukkut's ship Harukk which sped out of Kshshti with Tully and Hilfy aboard, with The Pride dockbound and helpless.

Moreover, the methane-breathing tc'a delivered Pyanfar an ambiguous warning of multiple factions and connivance among kif; of danger to themselves, and of knnn involvement in the whole question.

At this depth of despair another ship pulled into Kshshti: the mahen hunter ship Aja Jin, commanded by none other than Keia Nomesteturjai—Jik, to his friends; partner to Goldtooth; agent of the mahen government and armed with enough authorizations to coerce even Rhif Ehrran.

Pyanfar still had the message packet destined for Maing Tol—but Sikkukkut's parting message indicated if she wanted to see Hilfy and Tully alive she must come instead to Mkks— even deeper into the border zone, where kif were predominant.

Jik called a conference of captains and handed the packet to Banny Ayhar with orders to get it to Maing Tol; and thrust upon Rhif Ehrran a set of authorizations that won her cooperation as well.

So one message has sped toward Maing Tol; Hilfy and Tully are held hostage on the kifish border; Goldtooth is among the missing and one more dockside has been wrecked.

They move each as they must. And The Pride leaves Kshshti, headed deliberately into a kifish trap.

I

The Pride came in, dropping suddenly into here and now; and Pyanfar Chanur reached for controls, half-dazed yet.

Where? she thought, with one wild panicked notion that the drive could have betrayed them and they might be nowhere at all. There were new routines to remember. There were new parameters, new systems—

No. Go on comp, fool, let the autos take her—

"Location," she said past jaws gone dry as dust.

"We're in the range," Tirun said.

The first dump came, phasing them into the interface and out again; and The Pride of Chanur hauled herself back to realspace with authority.

"We're alive," Khym said.

And that surprised them all.

"Chur?" Geran asked.

"Here," a voice said from in-ship com, faint and slurred. ''I'm here, all right. We made it, huh?"

Second dump: The Pride shed more of the speed the gravity drop had lent her. And kept going, while the red numbers reeled on the board, a passage-speed that flicked astronomical measures past like local trivialities.

"Just passed third mark," Haral said.

"Huh," said Pyanfar.

"Beacon alarm."

"No response."  Pyanfar's eye was on the scan image Mkks' robot beacon sent them, positions of everything in Mkks system. Beacon protested their velocity. "Get me that line, gods rot it, can we do it?—where's that line? Wake up!"

The line flashed onto the monitor, red and dangerous, showing them a course that broke every navigation code in the Compact.

Alarms flashed: the siren howled. Pyanfar laid back her ears and reached frantically to controls as Haral synched moves with her to get the numbers ripped loose from scan-comp and embedded in nav. She keyed a confirmation, one press of a button. Alarms died, and The Pride kept going, hellbent on the line—

("We're on, we're on, we're on!" Tirun breathed—)

—sending a C-charged jumpship on a course straight to Mkks station, a maneuver two stars wide, betting everything they had that Mkks beacon would be accurate. They were racing the lightspeed wavefront of their own arrival, the message which that jumprange beacon back there sent to Mkks—chased that moment down the timeline as fast as any ship could dare, with enough energy bound up in their mass to make one great flare if anything Mkks beacon had not reported should turn up in their path—a nova in miniature, a briefly flaring sun.

Pyanfar let the controls go, flexed aching hands and reached in null G drift for the foil packet she had clamped to the chair arm. It escaped her claws and she snagged it back, bit a hole in it and drank the contents down in several convulsive gulps, shuddering at the taste and the impact on her stomach. It was necessary: the body shed hair, shed skin, depleted its minerals and moisture. Shortly blood sugar would surge and plummet, and she had to be past that point when The Pride's course reached critical again.

There was no hope now of steering. They were going too fast to skew off to any influence but the star's, and that pull was plotted into their course. She wiped her mane back and rubbed an itch on her nose that had been there since Kshshti.

"Mkks nine minutes Light," Haral said.

Nine minutes til Mkks station got the news of their arrival; mahendo'sat authority would take a few minutes more realizing they had not made that critical third velocity dump. In the meanwhile The Pride was shortening the nine minute reply interval. In much less than eighteen minutes, they would run into the outgoing communications wavefront of a frantic station.

That was time as starships saw it: but someone had to call the kif on com; someone had physically to push buttons and get to kif authority, while in each running stride of kifish feet down a corridor an inbound jumpship traveled a planetary diameter.

"Send," she said to Khym. "The Pride of Chanur inbound to Mkks: requesting shiplist and dock assignment. We want berths clear on either side of us. We have cargo hazard. Send."