• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“See?” Flinx told him as he relaxed his mouth. “The front teeth are incisors. Flat, but designed for cutting. All AAnn teeth are like daggers, short and sharp. Those of my kind are more diverse. Some are like slicing blades, a few are like daggers, and most are evolved for grinding. Remember that we are omnivores and consume plant matter as well.” He resumed eating.

Kiijeem performed a second-degree gesture of amazement. “Fasscinating. It is almosst as if the evolutionary process wass unssure which direction your biology sshould take.”

“We often wonder about such things ourselves.” He gestured at a dark purple slab of protein. “Pass me another piece of that seared hilthopk, will you?” The youth complied.

“How do you come to know sso much about our wayss, our food, our language?” Kiijeem asked him. “According to my sstudiess, humanss and AAnn rarely encounter one another except in the coursse of formalizing diplomatic or commercial exchangess.” He hesitated before adding, “And in battle.”

Flinx let it slide. “I suppose you could say that I am a rare kind of human. I have a particular reason for being interested in all species. Including those with whom the Commonwealth government does not always get along. As a consequence I've spent an unusual amount of time in the company of other sentients—including your own kind. Most recently on a world called Jast.”

“Jasst,” Kiijeem repeated. “I have heard of it. It hass not been prominent in my sstudiess.”

“It's not an Imperial world,” Flinx informed him. “It's independent, though inclining more to the Imperial orbit than that of the Commonwealth. There are many of your kind working there.” Recent memories came flooding back. “I spent some time there. More than I anticipated. A lot of it was among artists of your species.”

Kiijeem's reaction was reflexive. “Pfssaact! Some artisstss are important in their way. Indusstrial dessignerss, for example. But mosst are weak and little more than a burden on ssociety. Art sshould be an adjunct to a true life. Thosse who choosse to do nothing but art are little more than parassitess. Humanx ssociety, if I remember correctly, viewss thiss differently.” Reinforced by gesture and emotion, the implication in the youth's tone was that humans and thranx were both debased species because they chose to honor full-time artists and viewed creative endeavors as an acceptable way of spending one's entire existence.

Sidestepping a characteristic AAnn invitation to argument, Flinx elaborated. “I think you might feel differently about this particular group of artists. For one thing, they chose to live apart from the rest of AAnn society. Your kind are especially gregarious, and such self-enforced isolation on an alien world represents a considerable sacrifice for them.”

“Fleeing and hiding by any other name …” Unpersuaded, Kiijeem blew dismissively through the nostrils located at the end of his short snout.

“I was badly injured and they took me in,” Flinx continued. “My own kind did not; the dominant Jastian sentients, the Vssey, did not. Only this group of AAnn artisans freely offered me shelter and succor. They could just as easily have finished me off and made a meal of my remains.” He met the youth's slitted gaze without blinking. “Most members of your species would have done exactly that. At least one of them tried. But not the members of this Tier.” He leaned back against a stone slab that was being warmed by the heat of day.

“I'd lost my memory. My time among the members of this Tier helped me regain it. They treated me as one of their own. One in particular …” His voice trailed away.

Though what little he knew of the remarkably flexible and expressive human face had been learned only in the past day or so, Kiijeem thought he detected suggestions of emotions not formerly encountered. The sudden fall-off of the human's voice and deliberate noncompletion of a whole thought also seemed to point to previously unencountered ambiguity. Curious as to the cause, he pressed his visitor for further explanation.

“You