Chanur's Homecoming (49 page)

Gods grant-

"Hai!" The whole ship banged and slewed violently, so that the course was different than it had been- "What'd we lose?" she yelled. "Gods rot it, what blew?"

"Vanes-" Tirun started to say.

Second impact, like the loudest thunder that ever cracked: the ship jumped sideways and a whole panel started flashing red. A small black body went hurtling and hit the wall, a black blur til it hit: it scrabbled right across the top of the control panel and Pyanfar swallowed and spat a red spatter that shocked her as much as the sound, only then feeling what her teeth had done to the inside of her mouth. "Gods fry that kif bastard-you all right?" The cursed black thing was as terrified as the rest of them, fellow in misfortune. It ran and screamed in rage: she did not even hit at it when she had the chance. There were too many switches for two hands, too many systems over to backup and third backup and past. ''Damage report, gods rot it!''

"Chur," Tully's anxious voice came. "Chur!"

"We lost the whole vane, I think it slewed down into the mains." Tirun's voice, hoarse and breathless. And the firing of the guns resumed, re-aligned to the new track, while gods knew where they were going.

"Priority," Geran said, "we got fire over us-our kif are moving, the mahendo'sat are moving-we're clear of it-"

"Industry's bad hit," Hilfy reported. "Khym-Chur-"

"I'm with you." Chur's own voice, weak as it was.

"Cease fire, cease fire."

While the mains slammed away at them. Then it was a matter of finding their bearings, getting the skewed V shaved down. She got a screenful of garble out of Tracking, reoriented to bring the dishes and receptors to optimum-no matter which direction The Pride was physically headed: coherent data started coming up.

And camera image, an area of flares in the battle zone as The Pride began rollover to brake.

She looked round at her own bridge, still swallowing blood, saw all the stations still working. Wiped her mouth and glanced back again at the images Haral sent her way.

It was still happening out there. But more slowly. There were ships in wreckage out there, blown in those flares. She earnestly hoped one of them was Harukk.

She remembered Stle sties stlen. And felt a chill as she hit the com-button, the contact still live. "This is the mekt-hakkikt Pyanfar Chanur. Report."

"Praise to the hakkikt," a kifish voice came back eventually. "We give you your enemies."

And others began, a flood of ship names, Nekkekt. Chakkuf. Ikkhoitr itself, declaring fervent loyalty.

Not a hani voice. Not a one.

Or a mahendo'sat.

"This is The Pride of Chanur to all hani ships: acknowledge status; hold other transmissions pending. Thank you."

She sat there staring after. And shaking, little tremors which had nothing to do with the stench of dead air in the ship and the ozone and the fact that the bridge fans had stopped working. Or that there was a periodic and rhythmic shock against the hull which was some piece of debris trailing and still in motion while the mains hammered away at their drift.

Just the bridge sounds and the distant thunder of the mains. And a great loneliness.

"Everyone all right? Is everyone all right?"

"I got a patch on it." Khym's voice. "It's all right."

"Galley." Sirany's voice on general com. "You all right in there?"

"I think I got a broken rib," the answer came back. "But we're all right, how's it going, captain?"

"Going to go stable in a while, hold on." Stable. My gods, they're killing each other up there. Kif are butchering each other in the corridors of those ships out there, kif are doing what kif do when they win and others lose, and how many ships have we lost out here? What do we do, hit the kif now while they're confused?

The kif would. If they had our options. Poor naive sons. They don't understand what's all round* them. They don't understand what hani are capable of. Fire on them-and change us forever. Do that-and be sure there is a forever. "You want me to trim us up?" Haral asked, while several channels of com talked away, getting damage reports out of other ships, ascertaining casualties. Fortune reported minimal damage. Light was going to have to limp into dock. There were others. The information came up on the screens.

Ayhar's Prosperity: damage: no casualties.

Harun's Industry: heavy damage: braking and maneuvering positive. Casualties: four.

Faha's Starwind: heavy damage: casualties: two.

Pauran's Lightweaver: vane gone: casualties: minor.

Ehrran's Vigilance: no damage: no casualties.

Nirasun's Melody: minor damage: no casualties.

Shaurnurn's Hope: lost.

Tahar's Moon Rising: out of contact.

Suranun's Fairwind: out of contact.

The list went on. More and more names. They blurred in her sight. As The Pride braked, and the stress hammered away at them.

Then: "Priority, priority," Geran exclaimed. As scan started blinking furiously. "Breakout zenith."

Ships were coming in. A lot of them. One; and three more. And five.

"O my gods," Sirany breathed.

"If it's Akkhtimakt-"

Then the ID started flashing. Mahendo'sat.

Mahijiru.

"Goldtooth," Pyanfar muttered, and slammed her fist down on the console rim. "Goldtooth, gods rot him-Now he shows up. Now, by the gods, now he comes chasing in here, comes in here with by the gods bastard frigging mahen interests, to sweep up the poor godsforsaken hani they've done it to again, b'gods greater and lesser, one more frigging time we bleed for them, their godscursed meddling selfish gods-be-feathered interests! Tully!"

"Aye, cap'n!"

"Get on that com, hear, com! Fast. Tell the humans no shooting, understand, don't shoot!"

"Don't shoot, I got, I got, cap'n!"

It started going out.

And hard on it: "Mahijiru, this is The Pride of Chanur. Cease fire, cease fire. These are allied ships. Dump and brake and hold off. Do not transit the system. Other mahen ships hold the approach to Ajir: nothing passed here beyond their capacity to deal with and mahen authorities in that direction are forewarned. Repeat: the Ajir approach is defended by mahen ships. Stay where you are. All mahen ships anywhere receiving: this is Pyanfar Chanur on The Pride of Chanur: cease all hostilities. End. Repeat that." She slumped back then, at the end of her energies. "Till response."

"We have a transmission from Vigilance. They register protest."

"Tell 'em-tell 'em we note it. Tell them-" It was easier and easier to think in kifish mode. "Stand in line, gods rot it. And consider where they are."

There were more and more ships arriving in the range. It was nightmare. If it had been an hour earlier it would have been a rescue.

By that much, you cursed bastard. By that much you missed it.

By that much Tahar was almost with us. Across all that space. Goldtooth must have held Sikkukkut-must have pinned them down good. The kif must have thrown something at him again at Kura. Must have-gods know what they did. Keeping Sikkukkut from overjumping us. When he came in here he was desperate. Needing me, for godssakes. He couldn't fire on me, I was the last hope he had.

We got ships out there-needing help.

"Human ship!" Tully cried. And talked to someone a steady stream of babble, as if they were on the same timeline. It was Tully's old message those incoming ships must have picked up. It was the old message they had responded to.

The same as Goldtooth must have gotten their own former chatter, and known well what ships were out to meet the enemy. She cut the mains, let them go inertial on what they still had, on the rotational G.

While Tully poured out something, rapid and urgent. And went on saying it. One assumed it was friendly. One assumed nothing nowadays.

She felt a hundred years older. And turned herself and her chair and looked over the bridge, at a crew worn and tired beyond clear sense, at more gray hah- than she recalled a few weeks ago. Or maybe it was the stark lighting. Or maybe it was that they all looked older, thinner, abraded away by distances and a load they had carried too long.

/ want to see Chanur again.

But Chanur land was Mann territory. Nothing could change that, unless Kohan could take Kara Mahn; and the weary, grayed man who had met her on Gaohn docks had not the strength left. The wit, yes; the wit and the will and the canny good sense that had been more than figurehead in Chanur these many hard years. A real power. A mind and an insight shrewder than many a woman's. But time bore down on Kohan, that was all. The only hope was Hilfy Chanur, who might find herself a man to take care of Kara Mahn: there was nothing Pyanfar Chanur or Rhean or any of the former powers could do about it any longer.

She saw Hilfy sitting there, talking to someone, likeliest one of the nearby hani. Up to you, kid. It all is, from now on. Our time is done. You think you've grown up. You're Chanur now, have you figured it out? I don't envy you.

Except your youth. I wish I'd known you and you'd known me forty years ago. They looked like rough years then. But the years you've got ahead-I can't see into them. Like there

was something in the way of me and this ship, like a curtain I can't see past.

I always used to know where I was going. And now all I can see is aliens. And all I can think of is the mistakes I've made; and how to get this straight somehow.

Her eyes drifted to Tully. To him. The alien among them.

It's an enemy at his back, isn't it?

I got to be, Tully, poor Tully, I got no choice. You warned me, and I see it clear, I see everything down that way with no trouble at all, and I'm going to do you hurt, I can't turn back from that.

You gods-be knew it, didn't you? Knew it from the time you came to us. Always thinking, never talking. Afraid of me and not afraid. For two good reasons.

What'll they do to you when I'm through? Where'll you go?

My friend.

"Hilfy. Get me Banny."

"I got Prosperity right now. You want Banny in person?"

"I want her." She turned the chair back square to the board and punched in. "Banny. Banny, you hear me?"

"Such as it is, Chanur. It looks like we got help out there."

"I don't know how much the mahendo'sat told you, Banny, but we got some other visitors out there and I can't talk about it real clear just now: we got politics here. I'm asking hani ships to form up; I'm going to ask the kif to do the same and they're going to do it, Banny, they're going to do it. Then we're going to have to do some talking-you want to take charge of the hani ships for me, just keep it kind of quiet and trust me. We're not out of this yet. We got a real problem here. A real problem. Banny."

There was prolonged silence.

"Banny. Haurosa naimur ffhain'haur murannarrhm'ha chaihen." Ambush in the trees, Banny. . . .

More of the long silence. "Accepted."

That was the first thing.

The next was harder.

"Message, Hilfy: tell the kifish ships to put themselves in order and stand by for instruction. Stop all forward drift."

"Aye."

"Chur: transmission to Mahijiru. Quote: This is Pyanfar Chanur. Hold your ships where they are. Your Personage is aware of the kifish advance; mahen ships were in position to prevent escape by the Ajir corridor. Ajir corridor, repeat, is secure. We ask you dump all V and wait. This situation insystem is still extremely volatile. The kif remaining here are under my personal direction and within han jurisdiction. I ask you instruct your allies to total dump and recall all other mahen ships to your group immediately. Cease all hostile operations. All ships are in han jurisdiction. Repeat, request immediate total dump and hold pattern. Endit and repeat at intervals. Transmission to Nekkekt: This is the mekt-hakkikt in person. Permit withdrawal of mahen ships from center system. Continue to reduce all V: cease all drift toward mahen position. Take no action against mahendo'sat. Wait orders. Endit." She slumped back in the chair. Waited with her claws clenched.

"That's a dump," Geran said finally. And she began to breathe freely again. More when they saw the second one.

But attacking ships might do as much.

Then Mahijiru took the third dump, coming down to insystem velocities.

"Thank gods, thank gods," she muttered. And over com: "Banny, we're gaining on it. We got it stopped." Out on that channel. "Hilfy. Get me Goldtooth."

"Working. Lagtime 10.9."

Twenty-two on the roundtrip of messages. Far out in the range still. But Goldtooth had to be AOS on the initial message now. Ten minutes ago. Other ships incoming were observing the same sequence; and that was all but certain to be pre-arrangement.

Humans, migods, humans drug themselves senseless. We got doped-up pilots out there. Robotics. Gods know what.

They have to stop with the mahendo'sat. Stop and get their bearings. Or plan to blow the system to a mahen hell.

They wouldn't. Couldn't. Gods save us. They have to take Goldtooth's lead till they figure things out.

It's not over.

She drew a shaky breath. "We're going stable," she said

on bridgecom. "Free to move about, arrange your own covers, five minutes, maybe longer: maybe ten, fifteen gods-be days out here, I dunno." She lifted shaking hands to her face, just shut out the sight of things if not the sound, and rested. Quietly some of the crew saw to themselves. "I'm all right," she heard Khym's low complaint. "Gods rot it, I can get to the gods-be head."

From her husband. Who had a hole in his leg and a plasm patch, a deep wound that had to be swollen and hurting if it was not worse than that. She wanted a trip to the head. Desperately. She decided to take the chance and unbuckled.

"Captain," Hilfy said. "Nekkekt: stand by replay."

"Uhhhhn." It starts. Kif have sorted out. Who am I dealing with?

And from the earplug. "Mekt-hakkikt, I have all these ships in my hand, praise to you. We will strike at your order."

"Who am I talking to?"

"Mekt-hakkikt, to your faithful Skkukuk. I have carried out all your orders. I will deal with all your enemies. Name them to me."