"C. J. Cherryh - Chanur 02 - Chanur's Venture" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cherryh C J)

Ismehanan-min. You still play merchant?"
"We trade sometime, keep us same honest."
"Present, a?"
The mahe looked to his left where the towering black wall of mahe crew parted.
Pyanfar looked -- and her ears went up and her mouth fell open at the gangling
stsho-cloaked apparition in the doorway to Mahijiru's inmost corridors. A mostly
hairless face with mane and beard like spun daylight; a face like nothing in
civilized space.
"O gods," she said, and whirled about, heading for the airlock, but the
mahendo'sat had it packed.
"Pyanfar," the human said.
She turned, ears flat. "Tully," she said in despair, and lost the rest of her
dignity as the human hastened to fling his arms about her. His clothes reeked of
mahen incense.
"Pyanfar," Tully said, and straightened up and towered over her, grinning like a
mahe and trying to stop it, for he knew better. "Py-an-far." In evident delight.

That was the limit of his conversation. That mouth was never made for hani
speech. Goldtooth set his hand possessively on Tully's shoulder and squeezed.
"Fine present, a, Pyanfar?"
"Where'd you find him?"
The mahen captain shrugged. "Come all the way mahen trader name Ijir, long time
mahen ship, all time want you, Pyanfar Chanur, crazy mad human. Come find you,
come find you, all he know."
She looked up at Tully, who stood there with something brimming over in him, who
had no possible business where he was, in mahendo'sat transport, light-years
from human territory, in a zone where humankind was banned.
"No," she said to Goldtooth. "No. Absolutely not. He's your problem."
"He want find you," Goldtooth said. "Friend. Where your sentiment?"
"Gods rot you -- gods rot you, Goldtooth. Why? For what? What's he want?"
"Want talk you. Your friend, hani, good friend, a?"
"Friend. You earless, mangy bastard. I just got my papers clear -- You know what
it cost?"
"Trade." Goldtooth came close and put his arm conspiratorially about her
shoulders. She stood like rock, laid back her ears and grinned into his face in
chill reception. "Trade, hani. You want make deal?"
"You want to lose that arm?"
Primate fangs gleamed gold. "Rich, hani. Rich -- and powerful. You want this
human trade? Got. --Look this face--"
"Have I got a choice?"
A wider grin. "Loyal friend. Want you do a thing for me. Want you make this
human happy, a? Want you take him to Personage. Want you take him to the han.
Make all round happy. Got trade, hani. Profits."
"Sure, profits." She shoved back at arm's length and stared up at that earnest
mahen face. "Profits like last time, like bills up to the overhead, like hani
barred six months from Meetpoint and The Pride out a gods-rotted year--"
"Like stsho got lot gratitude hani save their hides, a?"
"Same as the mahendo'sat. Same as the mahe who double-crossed me--"
Black palms lifted. "Not my fault, not my fault. Stsho close Meetpoint, what I
do?"