"Just lot people know you pret' damn good."
"Good for them. I'm so pleased."
A laugh and a puff of smoke. A lot of smoke. Hilfy wrinkled her nose.
"You a lot like the Personage. You same bastard like her."
"Family resemblance. Family temper. You want a demonstration?"
Another grin. Mahendo'sat and humans did that. Bad habit. Could get you killed, on Anuurn.
"You nice. No bad temper. Just hani."
"You're a prejudiced son, aren't you. You want a deal? You tell me what difference it makes what we're carrying. You tell me what difference it makes to the stsho and what's at stake."
"You not know."
"We haul cargo. We're being paid. The stsho didn't hire mahendo'sat to do what we're doing. Don't you think if they'd trusted you very much they'd have let Ha'domaren carry it?"
"Maybe they look for damn fool."
Point. "So you know so much: what is it? What significance does it have? Convince me you're our friend."
"Lot status. Lot status with stsho." Puff and puff. Sip of fruit drink. "No'shto-shti-stlen number one bastard, want run whole Compact. Stsho all same lot disturb by give this thing."
"So what does it matter what it is?’'
"Same make difference what kind oji. Some got big presence. Some got histor-icity. Some got art.
Some make suicide."
"Make suicide."
"You get oji, you got respond or you lose big. Number one dirty trick."
"You mean they have to equal the item."
"Or lose status big."
"And Atli-lyen-tlas doesn't want to receive it?"
"Maybe." Another sip. "What kind oji?"
"Sorry. Not enough information. Why should I help your Personage? She might not be my friend."
"We good friend! We number one good friend! Whereby you get idea? Long time mahendo'sat been friend hani. Who get you into space? Who bring ships to you world? Who give you number one help make ships and trade? You damn hani fight each other with sharp sticks two hundred year gone. Now so smart you tell mahendo'sat goodbye, no need help."
"Well, that's not a question you ask a merchant captain. Go tell my aunt what she owes you. Tell my aunt tell me tell you what I know, no trouble."
"You say you don't speak."
"Haven't had a reason. If we had a reason we'd speak."
"How much you want tell me what is?"
"You can't buy me."
"You want know where gone Atli-lyen-tlas?"
She was really tempted. Not to trust this Haisi person. But to trust him more than the stsho. Historically, the mahendo'sat had been more allied with hani than not. But not all mahendo'sat were on the same side.
"Not many choices out of here. If it's Urtur I'll have your ears. Suppose I said it was a piece of art."
"Need know more than that, hani."
She took a sip of tea. Her last. And got up. "I give you something, you give me nothing. Wrong game, mahe. I'm not playing anymore."
"Kshshti."
"With the kif."
"They hire kif. Sit, sit, talk."
She sank back into the chair, leaned her elbows on the scarred table and gazed at the mahe's eyes.
Green neon didn't improve his complexion. Green shone on his dark fur, on his uncommunicative, flat-nosed face-on the smoke he puffed out of his nostrils.
"So talk. What kif ship?"
"Maybe., Nogkokktik."
"Why?"
"No'shto-shti-stlen got lot enemy. Plenty old, plenty smart. Enemy want gtst come home, give up be governor. That enough?"
"No'shto-shti-stlen is an old friend of my aunt. Why should I betray gtst interests?”
"No'shto-shti-stlen nobody friend. You know how long live stsho?"
It wasn't a known fact. There were guesses… in what she'd read.
"How long?"
"Maybe two hundred year. Hard make figure. Stsho change sex, change person, change everything, not remember. How you know when born, when change? Nobody sure. But what make stsho care? You Phase, same you dead. You don't got memory who you were. Same like dead."
"Who knows whether they remember who they were?"
"They say don't remember. You don't believe stsho?"
"I believe I got paid. And I get real nervous when people start asking questions about my business or about passengers on my ship."
Another puff of smoke, green in the neon. "You want make contact local stsho?"
"Maybe I will. Maybe I'll use the station com, like any civilized individual."
Haisi grinned. "Maybe you don't get answer. Damn scare' this stsho."
"Who is this?"
"Name not matter. Same aide to Atli-lyen-tlas, got real scare', not go with kif. I got contact. You got oji.
And No'shto-shti-stlen messenger."
"So?"
"So you stsho make this stsho talk damn fast."
Tempting. "I'm under contract. I can't say what I can agree to. Interesting idea. I'll say that. But I have to go back and take a look at the document I've signed."
"Not safe place, Kita. Mahendo'sat upset, stsho upset… kif upset. You want talk new governor at Meetpoint, lot change. Change make money, change lose money. Lot people got lot stress. Bad for health."
It didn't make one feel confident, sitting in a mahen bar, with a mahe with unknown interests bankrolling his ship and making deals through him with unknown parties with unknown intentions.
"I'll get back to you," she said, and got up and left him the bill.
2980-89 was a phone number. And an address, that being the system on Kita Point Station. Which made it just about as easy to take a walk to the lift and a ride up to the residential levels, up to Deck 2, Section 80.
Not a bad neighborhood, Tiar said to herself, seeing the immaculate paneling and the neat plastic address plates, and the plastic signs that said, in the universal alphabet, Silimaji nan nil Ja'hai-wa.
Meaning, for a mahen maintenance worker who might not speak the pidgin, Through traffic prohibited.
No clutter, no smudges, none of the graffiti endemic on the dockside. Pricey.
She rang at no. 89, and waited, while optics in the wall doubtless advised the occupants of a hani in spacer blues in the spotless corridor.
"Who? Identify!"
"KerTiar Chanur, of the merchant freighter. I had a notice to call." Electronic and manual locks clicked.
The door shot wide. A stsho was standing there, taller than most, painted in curlicues of palest lime and mauve, about gtst plumy crest and moonstone eyes. "Chanur, honorable Chanur. Protect us! You must protect us!"
It was hardly a conversation for a hallway. But she had no desire to let a door close her in some stranger's apartment, either. "In what way? From what?"
Hands waved, trying to beckon her inside. "In, in, the danger, the danger, honorable hani."
"Danger of what?" She backed up, evading the white, beseeching fingers. "I don't know you. If you want help… come to the ship."
"Most excellent hani! I have little baggage, very little, please, please, you will bring me safely aboard your ship…"
"I didn't say that! The captain has to clear any passengers!"
"But if the distinguished captain admits this honest person, where will my baggage be? How shall I live?
What should I do? I must have certain things necessary for my existence! All is ready, all is gathered, I need only gather it up, oh, please, please, estimable hani, most honorable…"
"Get the gods-be bags! Hurry, if there's danger!"
Gtstwailed, gtst dashed back as fast as a stsho could move, and, indeed, gtst dragged out bags and bundles in feverish haste, from lockers, from cabinets, from various quarters of the pastel room, until it made a sizable pile.