produced these,’ he murmured. Kin picked up the notes he laid on the table. There was a wad of 100 and 1000 Day bills, an Ehftnic ceramic 144-pjum bar, a thin roll of assorted human currencies, several hundred Star Chamber tokens and a computer card.
‘Some of the currency I tendered to a moneychanger on Ehftnia,’ said Marco, ‘and she accepted it. There can be no greater proof of its genuineness, if you have ever done business with an Ehftnic. I think the card is a keycard to an autobank, probably on Ehftnia.
‘There was a lot more, mostly Ehftnic dollar bars. I was poor at the time.’
Kin flicked a pjum bar and watched it roll across the table.
‘The bag produced them?’ she asked slowly.
‘Aye. ’Twas no more than hand sized. I watched it all come out. I thought he was Company. He wished to buy my services.’
‘As a pilot?’
The kung waved two hands vaguely. ‘I can fly all kinds of ship, no error. Even without matrix tapes. I’m the best – what do these want?’
The bar-kung approached the table diffidently towing behind him a very large hairy bell, which kept up by hopping on its one foot. There was a voicebox strapped to the tuft at its tip.
‘This is Green-shading-to-indigo. It’s an Ehft,’ he said, helpfully. ‘It’s the Line Top Sanitary Officer.’
‘Pleased to make its acquaintance,’ said Kin. With a deft flick the Ehft produced a transparent box from under its – cloak, skin? – and flourished it a few inches in front of Kin’s eyes. She heard Marco hiss.
‘Voilà! Regardez!’ screeched the voicebox. ‘Earthian! Moutmout! Sapient! Question!’
A large black bird in the box looked beadily at Kin, and went back to preening its feathers.
‘It turned up yesterday,’ said the bar-kung. ‘I told him, it’s a bird, an Earth animal. Only it talks.
‘We looked it up in the Guide to Sapient Species , but there is only one avian, and this is not it.’
‘It looks like a damn big raven,’ said Kin, taking the box. ‘What’s the problem?’ She paused. ‘I see the problem. You want to know, do you arrest it or destroy it? Anyway, how did a bird get in here?’
‘Puzzle!’
‘We don’t know.’
On an impulse Kin opened the box. The bird hopped up onto the rim and looked at her.
‘It’s harmless,’ she said. ‘Probably someone’s pet.’
‘Pet?’
‘Mental symbiote,’ drawled Marco. ‘Humans are crazy.’
The Ehft shuffled forward uncertainly and shoved its tentacle towards Kin again. It held a thick loop of intricately-knotted string. With a sinking heart she recognized it as an Ehftnic touch-book.
‘When I told it you were you, it went all the way back to its pod for its translation of your book,’ said the bar-kung proprietorially. ‘It wants you to—’
But Kin was already tying a personalized knot at the beginning of the coil.
‘Understand! Not! Self!’ squawked the voice-box. ‘For! Pup! Belong! Sibling!’
‘He means—’
‘I understand,’ said Kin wearily.
‘Jalo,’ screamed the raven.
‘You take it away,’ said the bar-kung, thrusting the ‘cage’ into a pair of Marco’s arms. ‘She can feed it or eat it or make love to it or teach it to sing or whatever humans do with pests.’
‘Pets,’ said Marco. He took the cage. There didn’t seem to be any alternative.
The Ehft watched them head towards the shuttle bay.
‘Crazy?’ it ventured.
‘Humans run the universe now,’ said the bar-kung bitterly. ‘Such craziness, I wish I could get hold of some. Notice the way humans walk as if they own the galaxy?’
The Ehft considered this. It had always found it an effort to comprehend a method of locomotion that didn’t involve tentacles.
‘No,’ it said.
There were few passengers on the shuttle. There was a moment of high-gee as strap-on rockets sent it swinging out of the hangar and down the Line.
‘At least I’ll have a native guide,’ said Kin, and grinned to show that it was a joke. But this kung seemed to know about humour. Legally
Aiden James, Patrick Burdine
David Stuckler Sanjay Basu