Authors: C. J. Cherryh
Don't you walk it. If they don't give you a car, you call and I'll see they do.
Tell them priority. Tell them Personage."
"Right," said Chur.
She walked into the lock with them, pushed the button for the second door on
alternate-set, so that the first closed behind them. She took no chances. Not
now. The yellow accessway gaped like a ribbed gullet. The chill hit like a wall.
"Hurry it."
"Pyanfar," Tully said of a sudden, and turned and balked. She put a hand on his
back and propelled him ahead of her.
"Come on, come on, Tully. It's all right." She walked by him with her crewwomen
trailing after, kept her arm at his back and kept him moving down the accessway.
He was cold already. She felt the stiffness in his movements as they hit the
slant and headed down to the rampway. "Won't be long. Bodies will heat up the
car." --Chatter to keep him distracted. She saw the gray of the docks like docks
anywhere, the pair of vehicles with the strobes flashing. "Translator's going to
be out of range awhile, but they'll get you hooked up again when you get to
station central. There's an outside chance -- a small chance, understand? -- it
might be more than twenty hours. Might be, might be -- they might have to shift
you to some mahen ship. I don't think so--"
He balked again as they came down the last few steps, turned and gave her a
panicked look.
"Captain," Chur said from behind, sharp and urgent: she heard the engines at the
same time, looked toward the sound down the dock.
Another car, headed their way in a great hurry, from up-dock.
"Gods rot," she muttered, grabbed Tully by the arm and pulled him on. "Fast,
Tully." The mahendo'sat in the cars got out, excepting the two drivers, one
curly brown, a tasunno mahe, smaller than the others and rare this side of Iji;
an officer and four others the gods-knew-what race of generations-back spacers,
black and tall and bearing badges and sidearms on the usual harness. Not
friendly-looking. Like one black wall. Tully balked again, looked about in panic
as the moving car hummed up and braked, resisted again as two of the mahe
grabbed him and pulled him toward the open door of the second mahen car.
"Pyanfar!" he cried.
Hilfy started forward, but Pyanfar caught her arm and held her as the
number-three car door slid down and three Ehrran crew got out in haste.
"Hold it," the senior said. "Hold it there."
Pyanfar shrugged and faced them. She had let go Hilfy's arm, and everyone had
stopped -- the mahe trying to get Tully into the car, the Ehrran who had bailed
out of their vehicle.
"Go on," Pyanfar said to Hilfy, and moved the hand at her side. "Chur, Hilfy.
It's all right. Sorry, Ehrran. You've been preempted. Station-master's
intervened."
"You," the foremost Ehrran said, gesturing at the mahendo'sat. "Where's the
authorization?" The mahe officer said something in one of Iji's manifold
languages, waved a hand. The rest pulled Tully into the car and Chur and Hilfy
piled in after. Doors began to close. "Chanur," the Ehrran said. Pyanfar gave a
second shrug, displayed empty hands. "Out of my control."
"That's your personnel,"
"Just to keep him quiet on the way. You'll have to take it up with station
offices."
There were limits. Cursing a captain to her face was one; calling her a liar was
another. The Ehrran did neither, but it was in her eyes, that were lambent
brass. The mahen vehicles snugged up the doors and began to move. Ehrran cast a
wild look that way, waved an arm at her crewmates and they dived back into their
own car.
"Evidently the Ehrran haven't got a com in there," Pyanfar observed to Geran,
who had stood fast by her left. "Gods be!"
The hani vehicle swerved wildly about and cut close to the mahendo'sat, dropped
back as the mahendo'sat refused to be passed on the narrow dock.
"Cheeky lot," Geran said.
"Won't go well out here. Gods-rotted black-breeches thinks it's Anuurn. Ought to
be interesting when they get news to their captain, oughtn't it?"
Geran turned a quizzical look her way
"I rather imagine they had trouble getting a car," Pyanfar said. "For some
reason." Up the row there was another swerve, visible as the cars went up the
curving deck, headed for the curtaining tangle of lines that would cut off the
view. "Gods rot--"
"They're crazy," Geran said.
"Come on," she said, spun on her heel and headed up the ramp, with quickening
long strides.
"Put me through to Vigilance," she said when she hit the bridge, not out of
breath, not quite, but blowing through her nostrils. Geran was still with her,
equally disarranged.
"Got that on vid," Haral said with quiet satisfaction, the while Khym stared in
confusion and Tirun moved past his seat to reach com. "That maneuver going out."
"Sharp," she said. Haral smiled and powered her chair back round to business
with the damage check.
"They don't answer," Tirun said, half turning in her seat. "No response."
"Log that. Call the station office and file a protest."
"Hazard to our personnel?"
"That'll do." She drew a quieter breath, hands on hips. Looked at Khym and saw a
gleam in his eye she had not seen since Mahn. She stood a breath taller, walked
over to lean over Haral's shoulder. "Next thing's that repair crew. Any sign
yet?"
Kshshti docks passed in a blur of gray and brown, of dingy fronts obscured by
the shielding of the car windows as the vehicle hummed along, buzz-thump-thump
as the soft tires hit the joints of unshielded deck plating with manic speed in
time to Hilfy Chanur's heart. She leaned to look back again as far as the
shield-dimmed car window afforded: the Ehrran vehicle had fallen in behind them,
no longer attempting to pass, but staying close on their tail. Tully's leg
pressed hers on the left, the three of them occupying the back seat with Chur on
the far side. Two of the mahen guards sat in front with the driver. The escort
car filled much of the forward view, they ran so close to its tail: the strobe
atop that lead car limned objects and the three mahendo'sat in front in
unreality and blocked out the outside so that it had no color. Beside them
office fronts and gantry machinery passed in a blur.
"Easy." She felt a shiver from Tully and patted his leg as she straightened
around to look his way. "Safe, Tully. It's all right." The translator had
stopped working as they passed out of range. But some words he understood on his
own. "Safe, hear?"
He nodded, glancing distractedly her way. He had his plastic bundle clutched
firmly in his arms and they sat close to him to keep him warm. The white flash
from the front of the car glanced off his pale skin and pale hair and turned his
nervous movements into something surreal.
"I--" he began, and the car lurched, swerved, threw them all forward and left
with a suddenness that brought the rear of the escort car up in Hilfy's view as
she turned her head, the car, the mahendo'sat driver fighting to turn, the
guards flinging up arms to protect themselves as the car slewed into angled
impact, glanced, hooked itself perversely into the escort car's torn body and
kept slewing round, grating metal as a tire stripped off the rim and jolted over
deckplates. Things blurred, snapped clear in a howl from the mahendo'sat, and a
fist slammed them; the back of the seat flew up in Hilfy's face and she grabbed
for Tully as her head hit the padding with the shock of explosion whumping
through the air and the whole car tilting and slamming down again.
"They're firing!" Chur yelled and that reality got through to Hilfy's brain,
sent her hand clawing for the gun in her pocket, numb-fingered from a shock to
her elbow somewhere in the spin. The car had stopped. The forward window was
cracked. The driver was slumped; both guards were alive. . . . "Stay inside,"
Chur was yelling from the other side as one guard worked at the door on that
side. A shock hit the car and blossomed in a fireball beyond the cracked front
window and Hilfy got the gun out as the stench of ozone roiled through the door
in silver smoke. The door opened on manual, slammed down as the smoke poured in
and the mahe sprawled as he went out in a pop of weaponsfire through the smoke:
his comrade fired from inside and another shock hit the car, fire bloomed,
deafening.
"Hilfy!" Tully dragged at her as cold air hit from the other direction, as Chur
got the door open on the sheltered side and bailed out of the car. Hilfy flung a
look in the other direction, pasted shot after shot at the flutter of black kif
robes amid the smoke, intending to go when she had stopped that.
But alien hands seized the waist of her trousers and skidded her sharply
backward across the slick seat even as she fired. An arm whipped round her waist
and jerked her from the door backwards as she got off a last few shots. Tully
tried to carry her, but she twisted free, got her feet on the ground and ran for
herself, Tully beside her, Chur--
Another shock blossomed by her, and she was flying through the air, the deck
coming up under her hands and under her face as something heavy came down on her
and sprawled.
She was running then after a blank space, her legs working, not knowing how she
had gotten there or where she was going until the gray of a girder came up and
hit her shoulder and she spun, flailed for balance and caromed into Tully, arms
about him as she decided on cover and kept falling, crawling then, along the
base of the gantry over deckbolts. She gripped the hard edge of the base rim,
hitched herself along, lay still then. Smoke roiled along the overhead where red
alarm strobes flashed, staining girders and smoke alike. Sounds were distant,
through the ringing in her ears. She felt small distant pains, saw Tally's face
twisted with exertion and with pain. "Chur?" he said, twisting on his elbow to
look back. In panic: "Chur?" And Hilfy rolled over to look through the obscuring
smoke, wiping her eyes and trying to see and hear.
"Chur?" she cried.
The red-gray smoke gave up a momentary view of tangled vehicles and other
wreckage, of running figures, of fire from various quarters. She heard the dim
chitter of kif commands, flinched as a shot came their way and reached to her
pocket for the gun, but it was gone.
"Hilfy--" Tully cried, and pulled her further back as kif poured past them to
take up position.
"O gods," she breathed. "We're behind the wrong gods-rotted line!"
Shots popped off the wall behind them and ricocheted wildly. She ducked down and
in the first pause in fire she grabbed Tully by the shirt, scrambled up and ran
with him while the smoke held -- but that smoke was not dissipating as it
should, the fans were not working, and it dawned on her battered skull that they
were cut off, shut down: section doors had sealed.
"Where?" Pyanfar shouted into the com as if volume could help, aware of Tirun
and Khym and Geran at her back and a great silence elsewhere on the bridge.
"What 'stay still'? You gods-rotted incompetent -- Where around the rim?"
--Babble poured into her ear. She whirled round as her eye caught movement, saw
Haral's running arrival on the bridge and waved a furious hand at her crew.
"Arm! Move it!"
"Got section seal go," the mahen official was saying into her ear. "Got no
chance kif get away, you wait report--"
"You authorize us past that seal. Hear?"
"Office got no authority--"
"Get it!" She cut the official off in midword and shoved her way past Khym.
Geran had the sidearms out of the locker. "Get the rifles," she said. They had
them. It was illegal, a defense they never admitted to port authorities they
had.
"Aye," Haral said, and ran.
"Pyanfar--" Khym said.
She put the lock on controls, spun about and ran. Khym was with them and she had
no desire to stop him. Not in this.
* * *
The huge section doors were shut, red and amber strobes on their surface
spearing through the wafts of smoke that reached even here. Sirens wailed and
echoed in the vastness of the docks. "They're shut, they're sealed," Hilfy
gasped, blinking smoke-tears and half-carrying the human who half-carried her,
the two of them weaving past the clutter of dockside bins and chutes as they
tried to get the break they needed to get past the line of fire. "We can't get
out -- Tully, stop!"
Shots broke out from a new direction. She dragged him off his balance. They both
staggered, thumped into the echoing side of a bin and she landed hard on her
rump as Tully collapsed with a gasp. Flesh stank. He rolled over, clutching at
his arm and she kept pulling at him, claws hooked into his shirt as she worked
toward the corner--
O gods, that there be shelter there--
There was an alleyway of a kind, a recess for freight loading, a door with a