Kif Strike Back (9 page)

Kif territory for sure. Outnumbered, out-gunned a thousand times and three. If it got to shooting here-gods help them. Nothing else would.

And if they had to enter one of the ships at dock to do their bargaining- they were in no position to protest the matter.

The kif guiding them brushed other black-robed, hooded kif from their path like parting a field of nightbound grass; and indicated a double-doored passage into a dark like that other dark hole, into a place thicker with kif stench and the reek of drink.

Kokitikk, the flowing sign above the door proclaimed-at least the symbols looked like that. Entry prohibited, mahen letters said. Kifish service only.

Gods, that would keep the tourists out.

"Meeting-hall," Jik said.

Kifish noise rose about them as they entered, noise from tables at either hand. There was a clatter of glasses-the smell of alcohol. And of blood.

"Gods save us," Geran muttered. "Drunk kif. That's the last."

Pyanfar walked ahead, rifle at carry, keeping close by Jik's side. Rhif Ehrran caught up with a lengthening of her stride. There were chairs all about of the sort Sikkukkut had used;
 
there were lamps and smoking bowls of incense that offended the nose and sent smoke curling up against the orange, dirty light. Kif shadows, kif shapes-kkkt, they whispered. In mockery. Kkkt.

And their half-dozen kifish guides drifted ahead like black specters, clearing them a way. The muttering grew raucous. Jaws clicked. Glasses rattled with ice. There were red LED gleams about the fringes of the hall, rifle ready-lights.

"It's a gods-cursed bar," Rhif Ehrran said.

The crowd opened out, creating a little open space. In the midst were kifish chairs, a floor-hugging table.

A kif sat alone at that table, beneath a hanging light.

Its robed arm lifted and beckoned.

There was a stirring all about the room as kif rose from chairs for vantage.

"Sit down," the kif at the table said. "Keia." It was Jik's first name, his true one. "Pyanfar. My friends-"

"Where's Tully?" Pyanfar asked.

"Tully. Yes." Sikkukkut moved his hand, and kif about him stirred. There was-a mahen shout, unmistakable; a yelp of something in pain. "But the human is no longer the only matter in contention."

The dark crowd parted near doors to the rear; and those doors opened. Dark shapes not kif were thrust forward and held fast-mahendo'sat prisoners, some in kilts, several the robes of station officials. One had badges of religious; importance. And a solitary stsho, pale, its gossamer robe smudged, its pearly skin stained with kifish light and smeared with dark patches. Its state was dreadful; it swayed and kif held it on its feet.

"A," Jik said. "So the stsho leave Mkks got reason."

"Mkks station," Sikkukkut said, "is mine. Its officials have formally ceded it to me in all its operations. Sit and talk, my friends."

It was Jik who moved first, walking forward to settle himself on one of the several black, insect-legged chairs that ringed that table. Pyanfar went to Sikkukkut's other side, and set a foot on the chair seat, crouched down seated with the rifle over her raised knee and canted easily at Sikkukkut. There was one seat left. Rhif Ehrran filled it. Haral and Tirun moved up at Pyanfar's back; Khym and Geran and the rest of the Ehrran hani close about the table, with a wall of kif behind.

"You let folk go," Jik said. He opened a pouch one-handed, took out a smoke and fished up a small lighter. It flared briefly. Jik drew on the stick and let out a gray breath of smoke. "Old friend."

"Do you propose a trade?" Sikkukkut said.

"I not merchant."

"No," the kif said. "Neither am I." He made a negligent move of his hand, and Pyanfar caught a whiff of something else, something strange and hers and scared, half a breath before another white thing was shoved into view through the wall of kif. Tully crashed down with arms on the table-edge between her and Sikkukkut. "There. Take him as a gift."

Pyanfar did not stir. Hunter-vision was centered only on the kif, the trigger under her finger, with the rifle against her knee. If Tully raised up too far, Tully would be in the line of fire. It was intended. She knew it was. She adjusted the knee and the rifle into a higher line. Sikkukkut's face, this time. "You want your hostage back?"

"Skkukuk? No. That one is for your entertainment. Let's talk about things of consequence."

Rhif Ehrran's ears had pricked. Jik let out a great cloud of smoke that drifted up and mingled with kifish incense. "We got time."

"Excellent. Hokki." Sikkukkut picked up his cup from the table and filled it with something that reeked like petroleum and looked rotten green. He drank and set the cup down, looking toward Pyanfar. "You?"

"I've got plenty of time."

"Even before Kshshti," Sikkukkut said, "even before that, at Meetpoint, I had converse with Ismehanan-min. Goldtooth, hunter Pyanfar calls him. I advised him to avoid certain points and certain contacts. You'll have noticed that the stsho vessel has deserted us now."

"Same notice," Jik said dryly.

"You'll have noticed a certain distress on the part of this stsho who remains with us-kkkt, perhaps you would care to question this one. A negotiator, gtst claims to be-"

"You tell," Jik said, puffing a cloud of smoke. "You got something drink, friend kif?"

"Indeed. Koskkit. Hikekkti ktotok kkok.-" A wave of his hand. A kif departed. "Were you always at Chanur's back?"

"No, not. Crazy accident I come Kshshti. Friend Pyanfar say she got trouble. So I come. Bring this fine hani." A nod Ehrran's way. "You remember, a?"

"Meetpoint," Sikkukkut said. The long-jawed face lifted. There was no readable expression. "Yes. This hani was dealing with the grass-eaters."

Rhif Ehrran coughed. "By treaty, let me remind you-"

Sikkukkut waved his hand. "I have no desire for treaties. Operations interest me. Chanur interests me."

"Hunter Sikkukkut, there's been a persistent misunderstanding of hani channels of authority."

O gods, Pyanfar thought, and felt sick at the stomach. Hunter, indeed. Rhif Ehrran demoted the kif in a word, in front of his subordinates.

"It seems mutual," Sikkukkut said, with equanimity and heavy irony, and pointedly turned his attention from Ehrran. "Hunter Pyanfar, I will speak with you. And my old friend Keia. When did we last trade shots? Kita, was it?"

"You at Mirkti?" Jik asked.

"Not I."

"Kita, then." Another puff at the stick. Jik flicked ash onto the floor. "We got shoot here?"

"Mahen bluntness.-That thing is a foul habit, Keia."

Jik laughed, replaced the smokestick in his mouth. "True." He glanced aside as a kif approached him with a glass. He sniffed it and drank. "Mahen. Nice stuff."

"Ssskkt. I appreciate it now and again."

"What got?"

"My business? Very serious business. Mahen interference. Stsho connivance with hani. This humanity-" Sikkukkut reached down and lifted Tully's chin. "How are you faring'.' Are you well, kkkt? Understanding this?" He let go and Tully kept his head up, white-faced and sweating and incidentally in the line of fire till he slumped and rested his arms on the table. "This humanity is a problem. Not alone has their presence disrupted trade: we do not, ourselves, depend so much on trade. . . . kkkt? But stsho do. Stsho fear any thing that comes near them. So the balance of the Compact is upset. And when that balance tilts, so agreements fall; and when agreements fall, so authorities give way - so there is disarrangement. This is our perspective. And our opportunity. Akkukkak first brought this creature into Compact space. Had it been my doing, of course, I would have fared better, kkkt?"

"Akkukkak dead. Lot dis-arrangement, a?"

"We trust that he is dead. The knnn are unpredictable. Perhaps he will turn up in a bazaar in some trade - but let us assume he is out. Presently there is Akkhtimakt. Akkhtimakt styles himself hakkikt, holds Kita, disrupting traffic - "

" - make lousy big trouble," Jik said.

"Have you dislodged him?"

"I maybe do. Maybe not. Why you raid Kshshti dock?"

"Ah. Now, there you are mistaken. The Kshshti Personage has a traitor on the staff - "

"Not got now."

"Kkkt. You redeem my opinion of you. But this spy was Akkhtimakt 's operative, not mine."

"Ummmn. You same got spy at Kshshti?"

"Not now. But then I did. When the human was crossing the docks - Akkhtimakt's agents moved to seize him. And I, fortunately, foreknew it. So I was on the hunt as well. Kkkt. Would Kshshti have fared so well in that firefight if kif had not fought kif on that dock? Mahendo'sat have me to thank; I believe thank is the expression - at any rate I stepped in and gathered up the prize before Akkhtimakt's agents could seize it. There was no negotiating there, at Kshshti, with everything astir, with every probability Akkhtimakt's agents would presently report all this - I am discreet no longer. By this intervention at Kshshti I have challenged my rival openly. Now I contend with him. And I surmised correctly that you would follow me, hunter Pyanfar, as soon as your ship could move."

"What's the deal?" Pyanfar asked.

"You might, you know, put the safety on that thing."

"Huh. Might. But I'm comfortable, hakkikt."

The snout wrinkled in what might be humor. "You don't trust my word."

"The deal, hakkikt."

"Ah. Kkkt. Yes. In simplicity: I have chosen Mkks as my temporary base. And my motives and yours coincide."

"Do they?"

"Kkkt. There are fools at large. Many fools. Stsho seek a way to prevent humankind from going through their space. Stsho connive with hani-am I right, deputy?-against mahendo'sat, who would wish to bring humans through at our backs, for reasons not lost to us. How quickly Keia distracted me when I mentioned stsho negotiators! But we know. To gain a foothold at Meetpoint, mahendo'sat route humans through tc'a space. Unwise. Vastly unwise. Stsho will not tolerate this any more than the other-and the very possibility of a human route approaching their territory or even their neighbor and ally tc'a-agitates them beyond rationality. Akkhtimakt operates with the fist. I, with the knife. Akkhtimakt wishes humans barred. But I am, among kif, your friend. Our motives frequently coincide. Is this not a better definition of alliance than friendship?"

Jik let out a puff of smoke. "You wrong, friend. Human got own idea. Damn stupid. But they want come through."

"They have urging. Do they not?"

"Who know?
 
Tell you got number one serious thing, methane-breather upset. We got trouble. Kif got trouble. Not all profit, either side. A?"

"You are willing to deal."

"Maybe." Another puff of smoke. "What you got I want?"

"Mkks."

Jik flicked ash. "A. Now we talk kif logic."

" You understand."

"Sure thing. You no trade. Maybe give gift. You give me Mkks. I then got plenty sfik.
 
make good ally, a? Maybe do something more."

"Take Kefk."

Jik's heavy brow shot up. The stick hesitated on its way to his mouth. Arrived. "So. Maybe."

Take Kefk. Only take the only kifish gateway to Meetpoint, the one kifish channel to the biggest trading point in the Compact-a major station and probably the most sensitive spot in kifish space outside Akkht itself. Pyanfar kept her ears erect with the greatest of efforts, kept a bland look on her face; and counted the kif and her ally stark mad.

"You think it possible," Sikkukkut said.

"I got allies. You got same. We go take Kefk." Jik took a final drag on the stick and drowned it in the dregs of the drink. "Personnel this station take back jobs. Then I take Kefk. You want?"

"Wait a minute," said Rhif Ehrran. " Wait a minute."

"I talk to her," Jik said without a look in that direction. "Got same good friend Pyanfar, one tough bastard hani. You want Kefk, fine. You get."

"Alliance," Sikkukkut said. "Myself and your Personage."

"You got."

"It's more than talk we've got to do," Rhif Ehrran said.

"The han deputy wants to know her advantage in this," Sikkukkut said. "But hani have allied with kif before. The deputy knows whereof I speak. Hani have formed various associations."

Pyanfar slid a glance Ehrran's way; the deputy's ears were down.

"What," Ehrran asked, "does the hakkikt know about hani allied with kif?"

"One word. Tahar. Does that interest you?"

"Where is Tahar?"

"In service to Akkhtimakt. Moon Rising is one of his ships and Tahar one of his skkukun. Not high in his estimation- but of some use to him."

"Gods rot," Pyanfar muttered, and looked at Sikkukkut herself.

"A hani famed for treason-treason, is that not the word?"

"It's close enough. Where is she?"

The kif shrugged, smooth as oiled silk. "Where is Akkhtimakt? Now does confrontation interest you?"

"She do fine," Jik said, studying the ice in the glass, in Rhif Ehrran's silence. "What say, hakkikt?"