So he thought he could lie there on the bunk and not pay any attention and it would go away.
But it didn't. Whoever it was didn't make the ordinary sound of setting down a tray and leaving.
Whoever it was just stood there.
He turned over and looked, and saw a kif like every other kif, except its black robes glistened and the border of its hood had silver cording. He could not see all of its face, just the snout. But he had the impression of its fixed stare as he sat up.
"Sir?" He had no idea of the proprieties, whether he should bow or stand there, but he decided on bowing. He thought it might be a station officer of some kind. It was even possible it was the kif he had hit, which had gotten him in here. He hoped it didn't want a fight. He was considerably at a disadvantage, and besides, he had gotten in trouble that way in the first place.
"They tell me you're refusing your food."
It was an official of some kind. "It doesn't agree with me, sir. I'm sorry."
"A very respectful hani. Males of your kind have a reputation for violence. For strength — one can expect that. But they say you're such a quiet, cooperative prisoner.''
"I didn't mean to hit anybody. If it was you, I'm sorry."
"No, no, not me. I assure you. In fact I've taken the liberty of contacting the governor in your case. A hani ship is in port. I thought it might agree to help you get home."
All at once his pulse was racing. Everyone said never trust such a creature, and it had to want something — kif didn't do you favors. Everyone said so. There had to be a catch.
"Who are they, sir?"
"Relatives of the mekt-hakkikt. Chanur clan. And they have agreed to take you in custody. I hope this is agreeable to you."
Agreeable. He folded his arms to keep from shaking. "Yes, sir. Absolutely." Chanur. Gods, oh, gods, if it could possibly be true…
"You wonder why one of my rank would be interested?"
"Yes, sir."
"My name is Vikktakkht. Can you say that?"
"Vikktakkht."
"Can you remember it?"
"Yes, sir."
"You understand gratitude.''
"Yes, sir."
"Then do me a favor. When it occurs to you… repeat my name where it seems appropriate."
"I beg pardon-?"
The kif came close to him, and laid a black-clawed hand on his arm. It was as tall as he was, and he had a most uncomfortable look within the hood, into narrow, red-rimmed eyes that gazed deeply and curiously into his.
"Go with the officers. Cause no trouble. Remember my name. Never forget it. At some time you will want to ask me a question."
Sheets dropped into the printout tray.
One… two… three…
… ten… eleven. The thing was a monster.
… forty nine… fifty…
My gods, was the printer on a loop?
… one hundred… one hundred one…
Out of paper. Tarras reloaded the bin and Hilfy sat and stared glumly at the stack. She refused to start reading until it was done.
…two hundred twenty-six… two hundred twenty-seven.
The ready light went off. The binder whirred. She extracted from the bin a contract almost as heavy as the cargo it represented and flipped through the minuscule print.
The computer started into the translation program then, and started displaying the result. She was looking at the stsho script, page after closely written page.
The intercom blurted out: "Security is here, captain."
"Get outside," she said to Tarras. "Get a check on those papers. Tiar knows what I mean."
"Security?" Tarras asked, ears up again.
"Delay the offloading for an hour. You're going to query station on this one."
"What's security got to do with it?"
She was trying to read stsho script. On this screen it was a challenge to the eyesight. "I committed an act of mercy. The gods' penance for fools." The translator was already querying for conflict resolution. And she had to do it. Tiar knew enough stsho to handle customs. Tiar didn't read the classical mode. Which this was.
And when you had a contract, you by the gods read it. Demand it in hani? Better to pin down the contract-giver in native expression — or gtst could claim deception on your part. Better to be able to claim deception by them against you. The courts did give points for that.
Was there a non-performance clause? And on which side was the penalty?
Was there a contingency for breakage? For war and solar events and piracy?
Did it cover personality alteration?
And gender switching? Stsho did that, under stress, and in trauma.
Did it cover death or change of the designated recipient before accepting the object?
Did it provide a sure identification for the object?
The translator kept interrupting, begging resolution. She foresaw a sleepless watch, and irritably split-screened the display, stsho and hani versions.
One did not translate a formal stsho contract into Trade tongue: it only developed ambiguities. One did not tell the translator to solve its own conflicts. The first wrong logic branch could start it down the road to raving lunacy.
"Captain. Sorry to interrupt you. They say we can't access the legal bank without an authorization from admin—"
"Get it. Call the governor's aide. Tell them the difficulty. Tell them I've just spoken to gtst excellency and been assured this would not happen."
"Aye,"Tiar said cheerfully, and the com went out.
Did it stipulate a deadline for delivery?
Did it set damages and arbitration?
"Captain."
Gods. "Tiar?"
"The station office won't put the call through without an authorization from you.''
An addendum to the contract. Access. For every last member of the crew.
"I'm going to shoot the kif. Tell them that. Tell them…"No, she was not going to invoke aunt Py's name or her perks or her reputation. "Tell them I'm putting the call through. Personally."
"Aye, captain."
She did it. Very patiently. She resolved a conflict for the translation program, then punched through to station com, and drawled, "This is captain Hilfy Chanur, to No'shto-shti-stlen, governor of Meetpoint, and so on — fill in the formalities. Excellency: some individual in lower offices is obstructing your orders.
— Relay it! Now!"
"Chanur captain."
"Yes?"
"Chanur captain, let us not be hasty. Can this person assist?"
"Possibly." She took on far sweeter tones. "If you can get a copy of that entire dossier my crewwoman just requested, and relay us an affidavit that the case in question is settled as of this date… in case something proliferates through files at some other station. Should we be inconvenienced by this, in doing a favor for the governor? I think we should not."
"Notable captain. — A matter of moments. A formality only. Every paper you want.''
"In the meanwhile — hold that message ready to send. One quarter hour, to have those papers on the dock, at our berth. This should have been done, do you understand that? This was No'shto-shti-stlen's own order!"
"Esteemed, a quarter hour. Less than that!"
"The quarter hour is running now, station com. Good luck to you."
There was the clause regarding payment. 1,000,000 haulage and oversight. And there was the clause regarding delivery of the cargo, to a stsho in the representative office on Urtur Station.
So far so good. She read through the succeeding paragraphs.
"Captain. We got it."