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Cachalot

Dark Star

The Metrognome and Other Stories

Midworld

Nor Crystal Tears

Sentenced to Prism

Star Wars®: Splinter of the Mind's Eye

Star Trek ® Logs One–Ten

Voyage to the City of the Dead

… Who Needs Enemies?

With Friends Like These …

Mad Amos

The Howling Stones

Parallelities

Quofum

Exceptions to Reality

THE ICERIGGER TRILOGY

Icerigger

Mission to Moulokin

The Deluge Drivers

THE ADVENTURES OF FLINX OF THE COMMONWEALTH

For Love of Mother-Not

The Tar-Aiym Krang

Orphan Star

The End of the Matter

Bloodhype

Flinx in Flux

Mid-Flinx

Flinx's Folly

Flinx Transcendent

THE DAMNED

Book One: A Call to Arms

Book Two: The False Mirror

Book Three: The Spoils of War

THE FOUNDING OF THE COMMONWEALTH

Phylogenesis

Dirge

Diuturnity's Dawn

To the friends of Flinx and Pip, who have

waited patiently (okay, sometimes not so patiently)

for more than a third of a century to see him finally

get some closure. The three of us thank you.

ABU THE THIEF: “You've got what you want. Now I'm going to get what I want.”

PRINCE AHMAD: “What's that?”

ABU: “Some fun and adventure, at last!”

—THE THIEF OF BAGHDAD, 1940

Insofar as he knew, Flinx was the first unofficial, uninvited representative of his species to set foot on the AAnn homeworld of Blasusarr. Very few humans and even fewer thranx had ever been formally accredited to do so. Only the minimum number essential to facilitate those few diplomatic exchanges where electronic representations were insufficient and face-to-face conversation was demanded had ever been allowed actual physical access. The idea that a single human operating entirely on their own might somehow succeed in penetrating the elaborate and extensive defenses that redundantly englobed Blasusarr was sufficiently ludicrous to promulgate all by itself entirely new orders of cognitive absurdity. Everyone knew that no non-AAnn ship could so much as approach the outskirts of the homeworld system without being challenged—or blown to bits.

However, the AAnn scientists and engineers who had designed and built those impressive planetary defense systems had never envisioned a ship like the Teacher. But then, neither had anyone else.

The energetic and enthusiastic Ulru-Ujurrians, using all of their exponentially developing skills, imbued the entire body of Flinx's vessel with a chameleonic ability. The ship could so completely transform its appearance that one moment it could present the perfect likeness and detection signature of a private passenger craft, and the next that of a heavily armed military escort. Now settled in unobtrusive orbit around the AAnn homeworld, it displayed the convincing aspect of a minor clan AAnn cargo vessel. Furthermore, it was not the only persuasive transformation to have taken place in that vicinity. There was also the elaborate and difficult provisional makeover Flinx had devised for himself.

So accomplished was the result that he had been on Blasusarr for a local teverravak, or sixteen days, without drawing more than the occasional casual glance. Perfectly fashioned though it was, the simsuit that enveloped him completely would have been inadequate to sustain the ruse had he not been so knowledgeable in the ways of the quasi-reptilians among whom he moved. He knew how to emulate the loping AAnn gait, which involved bending slightly at the knees and invigorating each step with a slight hopping motion; was intimately familiar with their eloquent repertoire of communicative hand gestures; could eat their food (though the profoundly carnivorous diet was beginning to have adverse effects on his waistline); and, through the use of tiny but powerful integrated servos lodged in the suit's hindquarters, was even able to satisfactorily manipulate its integrated lightweight tail. Built-in nanoneuromatics operated the suit's double eyelids. Having to view the world through their slitted pupils somewhat restricted his peripheral vision, but the result was more than adequate. He saw everything that threatened to trip him.

Thus