I said, “We're about to dock. If anything happens, you keep the needle sprayer, I want the blade. Closing the zipper turns on the air, so don't lose that.”
“No fear,” said Paradoxical.
Gravity went away. We floated. The ships danced about each other. I would have docked less recklessly. I'm not a Kzin.
“They know too much about us,” I said.
Paradoxical asked, “In what context?”
“They knew our manifest. They knew our position—”
“Finding another ship in interstellar space is not a thing they could plan, Beowulf.”
“LE Graynor to you. Look at it this way,” I said. “The only way to get here, falling through the Tao Gap in Einstein space, is to be going from Fafnir to Home. Stealthy-Mating got our route somehow. They started later with a faster ship. They might catch us approaching Home during deceleration… track our graviton wake… or snatch you and Fly-By-Night after you got through Customs. They could not possibly have expected to find Odysseus here. Catching us here was a fluke, an opportunity. They grabbed it.”
“As you say.”
“I like it.”
Paradoxical stared. “Do you? Why?”
“Clients, overlords, allies, any kind of support would have to be told that Stealthy-Mating is en route to Home. Any rendezvous with Stealthy-Mating is at Home. When could they change that? They're still headed for Home!”
“Very speculative.”
“I know.”
Stealthy-Mating's cargo bay was bigger than the boat's, under doors that opened like wings.
The boat released the cargo modules. Two Kzinti went out and began moving them. Envoy stayed behind. He watched the action in space, ignoring us. “Not yet,” Paradoxical said. I nodded. Fly-By-Night floated half curled up. He seemed to be asleep, but his ears kept flicking open like little fans. I ate my handmeal. Paradoxical averted its eyes.
Packer and the nameless third crewperson set the modules moving one by one, and juggled them as they approached Stealthy-Mating. Waldo arms reached up to pull them into the bay and lock them. It seemed to take forever, but I'd have moved those masses one at a time. They were in a hurry. Rounding a point mass would scatter this loose stuff all across the sky.
Turnpoint Star must be near.
The cargo doors closed. Stealthy-Mating rotated, and the boat was pulled down against the hull. Now we were all one mass.
The hatch in the floor opened. Three Kzinti came through in pressure suits to join Envoy. The newcomer's chest and back showed a Kzinti snarl done in gaudy orange dots-and-commas. He spared a glance for me and Paradoxical, then turned to Fly-By-Night.
My translator said, “I am Meebrlee-Riit.”
“Futz!” Fly-By-Night exclaimed in Interworld.
“Your concern is noted. Yes, I am of the Patriarch's line. Your First Sire was Gutting Claw's Telepath, who betrayed the Patriarch Rrowrreet-Riit and showed prey how to destroy his own ship!”
“And he never even went back for the ears. Then again, they were inside a hot plasma,” Fly-By-Night said.
To Envoy Meebrlee-Riit said, “This one was to be tamed.”
Envoy cringed, ears flat. Even I could hear the change in his voice, the whine. “Dominant One, this fool crippled himself for a failed joke, and that joke was his name quest! A lesser male he must be, never mated. His arrogance is bluff or insanity, or else life among humans has made him quite alien! But let Tech give us air pressure, release the telepath, and the stench of your rage will cow him soon enough!”
“Let us expend less effort than that.” Meebrlee-Riit turned back to Fly-By-Night. “Telepath, your life may be taken by any who happen upon you.”
“Did you need my consent for this?”
“No!”
“Or my First Sire's confession? That may be summoned by any Sheathclaws' school program. Then what shall we discuss? Tell us how you gained your name.”
“I was born to it, of course. Let us discuss your future.”
“I have a future?”
“Your blood line may be forgiven. You may keep your slaves, such as they are, and a harem of my choosing—”
“Yours? Dominant One, forgive my interruption, please continue.” Even if he was familiar with human sarcasm, it wasn't likely Meebrlee-Riit had been getting it from Kzinti! I'd read that Kzinti telepaths were flighty, not terribly bright. Meebrlee-Riit spoke more slowly. “Yes, my choosing! You may live your life in honor and luxury, or you may die shredded by my hands.”
“Meebrlee-Riit, you would not expect me to leap into so difficult a decision. Will you bargain for the lives of your hostages?”
“Submissive and unarmed Humans.” Meebrlee-Riit sneezed his contempt. “But what would you bargain with? Your world?”
“Only my genes. Consider,” said Fly-By-Night. In the Heroes' Tongue his speech was a long snarl, but the translation sounded placid enough. “He who is obeyed, who fights best, who mates is the alpha, the dominant one. You command that I mate? How will you persuade me that I am dominant? Submit to this one easy demand. Rescue my erstwhile hosts. Release them at Home.”
“Why would I want you in rut? There are no females aboard Sraff-Zisht. Packer, Envoy, you remain. Leave the gravity off. Tech, with me. Turnpoint Star is near.”
Two Kzinti went through the hatch. Two took their seats. Their hands were idle. Now the boat rode Stealthy-Mating like a parasite.
I asked, “Can you see Turnpoint Star?”
“At point six kilometers across? You flatter me. I surmise it may be centered in that curdle,” said Paradoxical.
Curdle? The tight little knot of glowing gas? I watched, watched… A red point blew up into a blue-white sun and I fell into it. The stars wheeled. The balloons that housed us rippled as if batted by invisible children. My body rippled too.
I'd been through this once, but much worse. I clutched the ribbon handholds in a death grip. I howled.
It only lasted seconds, but the terror remained. One of the Kzinti pointed at me and both laughed with their teeth showing.
Packer made his way to the shower/toilet. The other, Envoy, stayed at the board to look for tidal damage.
Fly-By-Night took handholds, subtly braced, ears spread wide. His eye caught mine. I said, “Paradoxical, now.”
Paradoxical splayed itself like a starfish across the wall of the refuge, just next to the opening. It disgorged the handle of the w'tsai.
I pulled the wrapped blade from its gullet and stripped off the casing. Clutched the blade against me, exhaled hard, opened the zipper all in one sweep, smooth as silk. Pressure popped me out into the cabin, straight toward Envoy's back, screaming to empty my lungs before they exploded.
Push the blade in, pull out, feel the vibration.
I had thought to recoil off a wall and slice Fly-By-Night free. That wasn't going to work. The Kzin diplomat saw my shadow and spun around. I slashed, aiming to behead him, and shifted the blade to catch the cat-quick sweep of his arm.
He swept his arm through the blade and whacked me under the jaw. That was a powerful blow. I spun dizzily away. His arm spun too, cut along a diagonal plane, spraying blood. Attached, it would have ripped my head off. I caught myself against a wall and leapt.
The seat web still held Envoy. His right arm and sleeve sprayed blood and air. Envoy smashed left-handed at the controls, then hit the seat web and leapt out of my path. I got his foot! The knife was hellishly sharp. My ears were roaring, my sight was going, but vacuum tore at him too as his arm and ankle jetted blood and air. His balance was all off as he recoiled from the dome and came at me. He kicked. My angle was wrong and he grazed me.
Spinning, spinning, I starfished out so that the wall caught my momentum and killed my spin. I tried to find him.