Chanur's Venture Read Online Free PDF Page A

lost its pearly sheen and went dead
    white. "--The director says gtst knows about this board. A subordinate has been
    disapproved in this malfunction."
    "It would be impolite to suggest higher connections. It would be stupid to doubt
    them."
    The translator made several gasps for air and performed, with further
    hand-wringing. "--The subordinate in question had no inkling of higher
    complicities, such as you and your co-conspirators arranged. This mahen ship has
    elected departure during the disturbance. The disturbance reached also to the
    methane-breathers. The director asks -- are you aware of this? Are you aware of
    hazards with tc'a and chi?"
    "Not my affair. Absolutely not my affair."
    "--The director asks -- do you want the merchandise this person left?"
    Pyanfar took in her breath, feeling an impact in the gut.
    "--It is," the translator rendered the next remark, "perishable."
    "I take it then station will deliver this merchandise . . . recognizing its
    obligation."
    "--There are entanglements. There is, for instance, the question of our damages.
    This shipment is impounded."
    "I refuse to be held to account for thieving krf! Take it up with the
    mahendo'sat you dealt with!"
    "I cannot translate this," the translator said. Gtst eyes were round. "I beg the
    esteemed hani captain--"
    "Tell gtst if I behaved as the kif did gtst would not be speaking to me about
    damages."
    "Ashosh!" the Director said: the translator turned and folded gtst hands on gtst
    breast, lisped in softest tones, turned with moonlike eyes at widest.
    "--We will speak of damages later. Now this merchandise, this -- perishabie
    merchandise."
    Pyanfar set her hands within her belt, stood with feet set. "In the estimable
    Director's personal keeping, I trust."
    "--Four canisters. Am I a menial, to keep such goods personally?"
    "Gods rot it-" She amended that, flicking up her ears, trying for a quieter
    tone. "Considering they are perishable, I trust there is some care being taken."
     
    The translator relayed it. The Director waved a negligent hand. Gtst eyes were
    unblinking, hard. "--Customs matters. Unfortunately the consignor in his haste
    for departure left papers in disarray, lacking official stamps. Have you
    suggestions, hani captain, that would prevent this property being sold at public
    auction? There would, I am certain, be interested bidders -- some very rich.
    Some with backers. Unless the esteemed Chanur captain takes personal
    responsibility."
    A blackness closed about the edges of the room, on everything but the graceful
    nodding stsho.
    "--Also," the stsho continued, "the matter of papers lately cleared. This
    station is dismayed . . . utterly dismayed at the betrayal of its trust. I am
    personally distressed."
    "Let's talk," Pyanfar said, "about things good merchants like us both
    understand. Like fair trade. Like deal. Like I take my small difficulty out of
    Meetpoint within a few hours after getting my cargo in order, and I take it
    elsewhere without a word to anyone about bribes and mahendo'sat. You want to
    talk trouble, esteemed Director? You want to talk kif trouble, and word of this
    getting back to your upper echelons? Or do you want to talk about the
    merchandise, and finding my crew, and letting me take this off your hands --
    with my permits in order -- before it gets more expensive for your station than
    it already is?"
    The translator winced, turned and began to render it in one hand-waving spate.
    "Ashosh!" the Director said; and other things. A flush came and went over gist
    skin, mottlings of nacre. The nostrils flared in rapid unison. "Chanur sosshis
    na thosthsi cnisste znei ctehtsi canth hos."
    Another flinch from the translator, a rounding of round shoulders as gtst
    turned.
    "Tell gtst," Pyanfar said without waiting, "gtst is in personal danger. From the
    kif, of course. Say it!"
    It was rendered. The Director's skin went white. "--Unacceptable. There is a
    debt which in your doubtless adequate if unimaginative