"You have your food exports," I reminded him. "I understand they're very muchsought after."
"But they can travel only a limited distance before spoiling," he said. "Inthe face of such a dilemma, what can the Crooea do?"
I sighed. I saw where he was headed now, all right. "They hire themselves outacross the Spiral, of course," I said. "Tell me, how much of your pay goesdirectly to the Craean government?" His beak snapped hard. "Seven-tenths," hesaid. A seventy percent tax bracket. Indentured servitude, with the twist thatthe servitude was to their own government and people. "I've never heardanythingabout this before," I said. "Why have you kept it such a secret?"
His feathers fluffed briefly. "Why would we tell it?" he countered. "It is notsomething we are proud of. To sell ourselves into service to aliens is not apleasant thing."
"Though it's really no different from what the rest of us do," I pointed out.
"None of us are selling ourselves, exactly, just hiring our services and ourexpertise out to others. It's what's called a job."
"It was never the Craean way," he said firmly. "But it is our way now."
He cocked his head to one side, a quick gesture that was very bird-like. "Buteven now that way may be changing. The Patth merchants have given us thechance to sell our foodstuffs in more markets than ever before. In only a few shortdecades, perhaps we will have the resources necessary for the habitats we yetwish to build. When that happens, we will once again be able to withdraw backto our homes, and our families, and our kind."
I shook my head. "We'll miss you," I said. I meant it, too, even as I wincedat how utterly banal the words sounded. "Why are you telling me this?"
He laid his delicate hands on the table, rubbing the fingertips gentlytogether.
"Once, it was thought that only our future freedom depended on the Patth andtheir stardrive," he said, dropping his gaze to his hands. "But now, many fearthat our very lives are solidly in their hands. In the cycles since Talariacbegan service, more and more of our resources have been devoted to the growingof foodstuffs for export. If the Patth should suddenly refuse to carry them, our economy could collapse in a single sunrise."
I felt a hard knot form in the center of my stomach. I had warned Ixil thatthe Crooea might be susceptible to Patth pressure; but I hadn't realized just howbig the economic stick the Patth were threatening them with was. "I think Iunderstand the situation," I said. "What is it you want from me?"
He seemed to draw himself up. "I want you to not aggravate the Patth."
I suppressed a grimace. Lord knew the last thing I wanted to do was upset thePatth; the Patth or their lumpy friends with the handheld crematoria.
Unfortunately, as far as that crowd was concerned, even my continued breathing probably constituted aggravation at this point. "What makes you think I wouldwant to do something like that?" I hedged.
"You dislike the Patth," he said again. "And it is the Patth who are seekingyouand this ship."
The hard knot in the center of my stomach tightened a couple more turns. "Whotold you that?"
His feathers fluttered. "No one told me. The beings whom the young humanfemale pointed out to us at the Baker's Dozen taverno were members of a Patth clientrace."
"How do you know?"
"It is common knowledge among the Crooea," he said, sounding surprised that Ieven needed to ask. "All Patth merchant starships carry Craean spacewalkers.
The Iykams also always travel with them as guardians and protectors. Unlike thePatth, they are crude and not very polite."
"As well as sometimes violent," I added, nodding. At least the Lumpy Clan hada name now. Uncle Arthur would be pleased about that. "Still, just because theIykams are mad at me doesn't mean the Patth themselves are involved."
The feathers fluttered again, this time fluffing out from his body. "Do notlie to me, Captain," he said quietly. "The Iykams do not act without Patthpermission. They do not move through these areas of space without Patthpresenceand guidance."
"I'm not lying to you, Chort," I assured him quickly, a creepy feeling runningthrough me. If he was right, that meant the two Iykams I'd killed on Xathrumust have had a Patth overseer somewhere in the vicinity. A Patth who had justmissed capturing the Icarus right off the blocks.
And running the logic in reverse, it also implied that the three Patth Cameronand I had seen in that Meima taverno had probably had a couple of Iykamslurkingin the shadows somewhere. Something to remember if I ever spotted anotherPatth out in the open.
"Perhaps it was not a direct lie," Chort said. "But you are nonethelessattempting to distract me, to lure me away from the truth." He cocked his headagain. "What is the truth, Captain?"
"You're right, Chort," I said with a sigh, gazing hard at his face and wishinglike hell I knew how to decipher that alien expression. "The Patth do indeedwant this ship. They think something aboard could be a threat to the economicempire they've carved out over the past fifteen years."
"Is that true?"
I shook my head. "I don't know. It's possible."
For a long minute he sat rigidly, his head bowed toward the table, hisfingertips pressed tightly together. That one I knew: a Craean posture of deepthought. I stayed as motionless as he was, afraid that any movement on my partmight break the spell, letting the silence stretch out and wishing even harder could read Craean expressions. Nicabar had threatened to jump ship if helearned we were carrying contraband. Would Chort make the same threat—or worse, actually carry it out—now that he knew we were in serious danger of bringing Patthangerdown on the Crooea?
With a suddenness that startled me, Chort looked back up at me. "This threatto the Patth," he said. "Could it be of benefit to the Crooea?"
"If it actually is the threat the Patth think it is—and that's the part I'mnot sure of—then the answer is yes."
"Would it be of benefit to the Crooea?"
I hesitated. "I don't know," I had to admit. "If it were up to me, you wouldcertainly be one of those to benefit, given your help on this trip. But Ican't even begin to make a promise like that."
"Ship Master Borodin implied that would be the case," he reminded me. "Is henot trustworthy?"
"Oh, he's trustworthy enough," I assured him. "But we don't know where he isright now, and the decision may be taken out of his hands. Especially ifsomeone else gets hold of the Icarus before we can deliver it to Earth."
He seemed to consider that. "And if we are able to deliver it to Earth?"
"Again, I can't make any promises," I said, feeling sweat breaking out on myforehead. With the perceived future of his entire race hanging in the balance, Chort was clearly figuring the odds and weighing his options.
Unfortunately, there were only three options I could see for him to choosefrom: jump ship, help us fly the Icarus to Earth, or betray us to the Patth thefirst chance he got in the hopes of buying economic security for his people. Onlyshort-term security, of course—in the long run the Patth were no more gratefulthan any other species. But balanced against their demonstrated ability forlong-term animosity, even a short-term gain was probably the most logical wayto go. In Chort's place, it was probably the way I would take.
And if he did...
I was suddenly and uncomfortably aware of the weight of my plasmic against myrib cage. We couldn't afford to have Chort jump ship. Period. Whether heplannedto turn us in or simply hoped to vanish into the sunset before the Patth foundus, we couldn't have him running loose with what he knew about the Icarus andits crew. We would have to keep him aboard, locked up or tied up if necessary, until this macabre little hide-and-seek game was over.