Flinx Transcendent_ A Pip & Flinx Adventure - Alan Dean Foster [164]
“Expending one's efforts and energies on a long shot,” Tse-Mallory added tellingly, “is better than doing nothing at all, even if the only eventual real benefit is psychological.”
It was settled, then. Raising his voice slightly, Flinx addressed the Teacher.
“Did you hear that?”
“My aural sensitivity is acute. I hear everything,” the shipmind replied tartly. “I continue to await a course—from you.”
Flinx sighed. AIs were so literal. “Take us back to Booster. Prep the shuttle for another landing. Same surface coordinates as before.”
“Complying.”
They set up a sleep and study area just inside the entrance to the Krang. Returning to Booster after having communicated at length with the massive and now-departed weapons platform, Flinx half expected the Krang to fill his mind with all manner of queries and thoughts as soon as he stepped through the alien edifice's lofty entrance. Nothing of the sort eventuated. Inside the great vaulting tower, the relentless winds of Booster were blocked, the soaring pipes and conduits silent and cold. Reaching out with his Talent, he molded a mental query. There was no response. He eyed the distant dais and its overarching domes. It was a lesser platform than the one he had made use of on the simulated methane dwarf, but more familiar.
The Krang was a device. For all its planetary dimensions, the departed weapons platform was nothing more than a bigger device. The Meliorare-engineered extreme multipolar neuronic connections within Flinx's telencephalon that gave rise to his singular Talent were not duplicated by alien hardware. To in any way match his abilities, complex instrumentation was required.
He considered placing himself once more beneath the domes—and demurred. In the absence of a specific reason, without a driving need, he saw no reason to subject himself to what was unfailingly an enlightening but always exhausting and potentially dangerous exercise. If consulted, Clarity would certainly agree with that conclusion. Subjecting himself to the domes and to intimate mental congress with ancient Tar-Aiym instrumentalities in hopes of saving the galaxy, or even just himself, was one thing. Doing so for purposes of asking general questions or just having a conversation seemed needlessly dangerous. So he avoided the beckoning platform and spent the ensuing days with Clarity, with whom he shared an entirely different and far less stressful mental connection.
They enjoyed their time together as best they could, given the stark solemnity of their surroundings. Meanwhile, Sylzenzuzex assisted her revered Eighth and the ever-stolid Tse-Mallory in their research. This often took the three of them outside the Krang and into the deteriorating city proper. Flinx and Clarity were left behind to admire their alien surroundings, the silent mist hovering high overhead, and ponder a future fraught with an ominous mix of problem and promise.
They spent a week thus. As a locale for what they half jokingly decided to call a pre-honeymoon it was decidedly out of the ordinary. Under such exotic conditions most men would have given little thought to anything but assuring their own continued survival. With the weight of all of civilization pressing down on his shoulders, that was not a luxury that had ever been afforded to Flinx.
Clarity knew him well enough to realize that as much as they were enjoying having some time together without anyone trying to shoot, paralyze, or blow them up, issues other than their relationship were preying on her beloved's mind. One morning after the usual rudimentary early meal she determined to press him on it.
She found him sitting just inside the