Chanur's Venture Read Online Free PDF

perception you must
    acknowledge was incurred by your crew, to have released a member of your species
    widely acknowledged to be unstable--"
    "A member of my crew and my mate, you fluttering bastard!"
    Nostrils flared. "--The debt stands. No agreement embraced such damages."
    She drew her own breaths with difficulty, trying to think, hearing words that
    sent small fine tendrils into quite different territory. Goldtooth, blast you--
    There was a setup, all the way....
    And her ears sank, so that the translator edged back a pace, gtst eyes wide and
    showing the whites about the moonstone round of them. The director's plumes
    fluttered, hands moved nervously.
    "I make you a deal," she said. "We get that cargo, we get the money for you."
    "--You will sign affidavits of responsibility."
    "Don't push it, stsho."
    "--Your visa is canceled," the answer came back. "And the visas of your crew and
    this male hani, under whatever pretext you secured civilized permits for this
    unstable person. You will forfeit your permission to enter our docks and forfeit
    any Chanur ship's clearance to dock here until this debt is paid!"
    "And this cargo?"
    "Do you doubt us? I make you a gift of it. In appreciation for your own damages,
    of course."
    Pyanfar bowed. Gtst waved a hand at gtst attendant.
    "Sthes!"
    It was not at all the courteous farewell.
     
    * * *
     
     
    More corridors. There was an affidavit to be signed, the terms of which set a
    cold misery at her stomach. She looked up from the counter and the stsho clerk
    backed all the way around the desk dropping papers as gtst went.
    "That do it?" she asked with, she thought, remarkable calm.
    The stsho babbled, refusing to come closer.
    "--Gtst say got more," one of the guards translated. She had heard that much.
    She wrinkled her nose and the stsho dropped more papers, gathered them, gave
    them to the mahendo'sat to avoid bringing gtstself closer.
    "Customs release, hani captain. All fine you sign this."
    "Wait, hani captain. Must secure permission to leave."
    She drew small even breaths, signed this, signed that, kept directing no more
    than baleful stares at the stsho official and gtst fluttering aides.
    At last: "No more forms?"
    "No, hani captain. All got."
    "Crew," she demanded, for the third time and this time with a broad, broad
    smile.
    "Ship, hani captain; they long time got release. Same got release Ayhar clan. We
    go you ship now."
    "Huh," she said then, and took the open door, stalked out, with her mahen escort
    to key the lift for her.
    No other word. None seemed apt. She stared at the uninteresting pearl-gray of
    the lift doors while the lift zigged and zagged its way through Meetpoint
    station.
    She thought, during that interval. Thought very dark wordless thoughts that
    involved stsho hides and a certain mahe's neck, until the lift stopped and
    opened its doors on the cold air and noise of dockside.
    She oriented herself with a quick glance at the nearest registry board, a black,
    green-lit square above the number 14 berth: Assustsi. She drew a cold,
    wide-nostriled breath of the dockside taint-oil and coolants, cargo and
    food-smells and all the mongrel effluvium of Meet-point, like and unlike every
    other station of the Compact.
    Leftward was Vigilance's berth, number 18. Ehrran clan ship. Doubtless someone
    of the deputy's staff was nosedeep in reports, writing it all up for the han in
    the worst possible light. Gods knew what that white-skinned bastard had spilled
    to willing ears.
    Or what Ayhar had had to say, to save its own skin. Gods-be-bound that
    Prosperity and Ayhar would never claim responsibility, financial or otherwise.
    Chanur's enemies in council would pounce on it, first chance.
    She started walking, constantly aware of the two dark shadows that stalked
    behind her, but ignoring them. Gantries towered and tilted in the curved
    perspectives of the station wheel. The dock unfurled down off the curtaining
    horizon as she walked, and she made out The Pride's