Chanur's Homecoming

“I’m taking your orders. Those who know me would be shocked to hear that. I’m a bastard, hakkikt, and a graynosed old bastard at that, and I’m not in the habit of taking orders, but I’m taking yours.” You don’t back me up, son. You don’t treat me like one of your rag-eared lot. “You impress me and your opinions make absolute sense to me. You give me Jik here, I’ll keep Kesurinan in line. And him. I know what you’re saying, and yes, you’re right. You want me to take Meetpoint, I can’t do that. Even with Jik for a wedge. But if you’re coming in behind me and want the stsho all dithered--” Which is what you plan, isn’t it, you son? "-I can by the gods keep them busy.”

Sikkukkut sipped at his drink. “You’ll have to be more than that, skku of mine. I have a ship to spare. Do you know what a single hunter-ship can do to an inhabited world?”

O my gods.

“No warning would travel faster than that ship. It would strike and go. And hani would be removed from the question. The power I give you would be removed, skku of mine. Always remember I can take it away. I can remove Anuurn from consideration as an inhabited world. Do you understand me?”

“Entirely.” Bastard. Thanks for the warning. Haura, bastard. You know how long Akkht itself would survive a move like that? Let’s talk about life in the Compact. Let’s talk about wiping out species. “When do I go?”

“I have a packet for you. You’ll have it. With the person of my friend Keia. Treat him gently.” Sikkukkut’s nose twitched. “And under no circumstances set him free. I have uses for him myself: he’s a loan, not a gift.” Another lap at the cup. And a wave of Sikkukkut’s hand, at which several kif near him stirred forth from the shadows, passing in front of one of the lights and casting long shadow over the table.

The shadow enveloped her, enveloped Jik as they laid hands on him and gathered him up with soft clickings and chatter among themselves. Jik lolled limp, in a way that said he was not shamming: his arm swung down, his head fell back when they lifted him, and there was no muscle tone in the arm they grasped-kifish fingers bit deep when they swung him up to carry him.

“Your leave,” Pyanfar murmured, set her drink down, and stood up. She bowed, as carefully and formally as ever before the leadership in the han. She kept her ears up and her face calm as she glanced aside to their handling of Jik, and looked again to Sikkukkut for instruction.

He waved his hand again. A second time she bowed, and walked out the door, into the dim corridor outside, into the presence of lesser kif who gave way to someone of her evident status, who edged out of her path, lowered their faces and made themselves shadows against the walls and the conduits.

Her knees were going to be weak. The ammonia smell dizzied her: she had not sneezed, thank the gods, she had snuffled once or twice and covered it; but of a sudden her stomach felt queasy and her heart which had exhausted itself in terror, labored away in slow, painful beats.

The nightmare was not going away. They were bringing Jik, she had to pick up her three companions, mahe, hani, and kif, on her way out; and she had to get down that dock and observe whatever the kif sent her in the way of instructions.

Had to.

“I got him,” she said curtly to Kesurinan when the kif brought her companions to her in the exit corridor. “He’s staying in my custody.”

And it hurt, somewhere dimly and at the bottom of her soul where she had put all her sensibilities-the quick lift of Kesurinan’s ears, the dismay, the instant smothering of all reaction, because Kesurinan was not a fool, and knew where they were and who was listening, and then that they would have to do everything the kif insisted on to get her captain out of Harukk. Kesurinan thought she was talking to an ally.

Sikkukkut was absolutely right: the mahendo’sat would be an ally right down to the point their own species-interest took over. And then Jik would save his own kind.

So, she discovered, would she.