Flinx Transcendent_ A Pip & Flinx Adventure - Alan Dean Foster [163]
“‘Manufactured’?” Sylzenzuzex inquired quizzically from nearby. But Flinx did not hear her. Or maybe he did.
The weapons platform emerged from space-minus back into normal space far enough beyond the orbit of the Booster system's outermost world and high enough above the plane of the ecliptic that its gravitational influence did not perturb any of that system's attendant planets. That was fortunate because it also did not disturb the Teacher.
Flinx did not have to make formal contact with the Tar-Aiym shipmind to ask that they be allowed to leave. As soon as they had boarded their shuttlecraft and lifted from the vast deck, the barrier overhead irised open. Their departure was not contested as they accelerated outward. Once clear of the surface they were able to look back as the synthesized methane atmosphere coalesced above their point of departure, once more concealing the actual artificial shell from any simplified external view.
“It's moving again,” Flinx quietly informed his friends.
“Yes.” Along with everyone else, Truzenzuzex was staring out the forward port of the Teacher's control room. “Have you any idea where it might be going this time, Flinx?”
“It didn't say, and I didn't think to ask it. I imagine that its programming includes contingencies for self-preservation. It can travel through space-minus, or some kind of similar physical anomaly, so I guess it's heading—somewhere else. Maybe starting on a long journey outward, away from our doomed galaxy.”
“If we had planet-sized ships like that,” Clarity speculated, “we might be able to save enough of a remnant population to reestablish humanxkind somewhere else. Someplace out of the path of the monster.”
“Next address, Andromeda.” Flinx looked glum. “But we don't have any ships like that. Nobody does. Even the Tar-Aiym could only build one, and it's not exactly programmed for shuttle duties.”
“A course, Flinx?” It was the Teacher's AI. Though his ship was perfectly content to sit in one place, it knew from experience that its human was not. Flinx forever favored moving forward.
“I have no idea,” the master of the ship muttered. What should they do now? What should he do now? He might have lost a galaxy, but he still had Clarity. Should they look for a quiet place to settle down on another world, perhaps even on Moth? His homeworld might be obscure enough to allow them to avoid the attentions of the misbegotten members of the Order of Null. Should he try to embark on the halfway normal life he had often dreamed of?
It would be the sensible thing to do. It would be the easy thing to do. The Teacher was his ship and would follow only his commands. He could do as he pleased.
Instead of making a decision on his own he put the question to his mentors. Beginning with Mother Mastiff, he had always found it prudent to listen to the advice of his elders. He might not do as they suggested, but he always listened.
Though visibly disheartened by the failure of the Tar-Aiym weapons platform to destroy or even deflect the oncoming menace from its seemingly immutable course, the two scientist-soldiers listened sympathetically to Flinx's quandary. They were in agreement in their response.
“There is always time for mating and egg-laying,” Truzenzuzex pointed out. “Or for its messy human equivalent.” Antennae fluttering, he glanced at Tse-Mallory, who nodded, and then turned back to the attentive Flinx. “We would beg of you a little more time in this unique system, Philip Lynx.”
Flinx looked over at Clarity, who shrugged. “It's your decision. Staying here a little longer won't bother me, as long as we're together.” Turning, she smiled at the philosoph. “You want to carry out what studies you can in a place you're not likely to ever see again. I've known you long enough to expect that.”
Truzenzuzex gestured second-degree gratitude mixed with gentle appreciation. “Bran and I thank