Caroline Cherryh: The Pride of Chanur

“Dreamer,” Khym said.

“Huh.” She got up, flicked her ears and waited to see him settled again. She walked out then, weaving a bit in her steps and figuring she had about strength enough to get to her own cabin and her own bath and her own bed, in that order.

Tully came and went, among his human comrades, and on The Pride. He did not, to Pyanfar’s surprise, cut his mane and shave his beard and walk about in human clothes: he did go shod, but no more change than that.

For the sake of appearances, she thought; in respect of her one-time advice and the opinion of the Llun (and of Chanur too, that brief time they paid a downworld visit, to afford Kohan time with his favored daughter and a view of their sponsored guests). Tully flourished — grinned and laughed and moved with a spring in his step quite strange in him. He brought a solemn trio of humans off their ship to take notes aboard The Pride — Goldtooth attended with his own records — to ask questions and to exchange data until they had some navigational referents in common.

They frowned suspiciously, these humans, but they stopped frowning when they learned precisely where home was — some distance beyond knnn space and kif.

“Got between,” Tully said enthusiastically, jabbing the chart which showed hani and mahendo’sat territory, cupping one hand on the hani-mahendo’sat side and one hand on the human side, with the kif neatly between. The hands moved together slowly, clenched. “So.”

So, so, so, Pyanfar thought, and her lips drew back and her nose wrinkled cheerfully.

In time, he went, back to his own… that last sealing of the lock which marked the separation of the human ship from Gaohn. Ulysses, its name was, which Tully had said meant Far-Voyages. Nearly fifty humans lived on it, and whether they were related or not, she could not determine.

They prepared to go. She started back across the docks to The Pride, to follow — with a smallish cargo, nothing of great mass, but items of interest to humans. There might be a chance to see Tully at voyage’s end, but it would hardly be the same. He belonged with his own, that was what, and she did not begrudge him that.

She planned to have use of that acquaintance, Tully — and the captain of this Far-Voyages. So, of course, did Goldtooth, with his sleek refitted ship, going with them, while Jik carried messages back to the Personage, no doubt, and the mahendo’sat tried to figure out how to cheat an honest hani out of exclusive arrangements.

But the odds in that encounter were even.