Flinx Transcendent_ A Pip & Flinx Adventure - Alan Dean Foster [50]
“I do not know, I do not know.” Pried loose by the constantly probing claw, a dislodged snout scale now hung loose and unflattering from Eiipul IXb's chin.
“Well, fssankk—we will learn the truth tonight.” His sister tried to reassure her sibling while at the same time maintaining a superior argumentative position. “If a loss of sstatuss, or worsse, iss to follow, it will not be uss who ssufferss firsst, hardesst, or longesst from an error in judgment.”
She did not have to look in Kiijeem's direction for him to know who she meant.
Seated in the farthest corner of the dark storeroom, his knees drawn up to his chest, Flinx looked on in silence as Pip happily slithered over and around one container after the other, staring, sniffing, sampling. Though she employed all her senses in the course of her exploration, the minidrag was having a hard time divining the contents of the securely sealed shapes. Her indifferent master did no better. The sundry AAnn containers and complex labels held no meaning for him and little interest.
He had of his own free will placed himself in a difficult, dangerous position. By now the Teacher was likely safely outsystem, speeding through space-plus in a fixed arc that would bring her reconfigured profile back to Blasusarr on a different angle of approach. His ship could not help him even in a dire emergency. He still had Pip, of course. And his own singular Talent, which had the disconcerting habit of deserting him when he most needed to make use of it.
He sighed. He would manage. Hadn't he always? But it felt strange. He was used to taking care of himself and not having to rely on the goodwill of others—much less the goodwill of a trio of unpredictable young aliens whose government was dedicated to everlasting Imperial expansion at the expense of the Commonwealth and of his kind.
Looking to his left, he imagined that Clarity Held was sitting there next to him. And was glad that she was not. At least she was safe, back on New Riviera and under the protection of Bran Tse-Mallory and Truzenzuzex. In the absence of any friend save a small, empathetic flying snake he found himself drifting into depression. He did his best to displace it with anticipation.
Time passed slowly in the underground storage chamber. The interminable hours spent isolated in the gloom and silence would have driven the average human to distraction. Flinx was not average. And not, he reminded himself, strictly human. Not according to the disquieting discoveries he had only just made on Gestalt. Reflecting on that did nothing to lighten his mood.
His melancholy was interrupted, if not exactly relieved, by a change in the emotional atmosphere high above him. The tide of alien sensations that had ebbed back and forth all late afternoon and long into what he assumed must be evening began to fade until only the emotive signatures of the three youths remained. Yet despite their apparent return to isolation, none of them came down the rampway to escort him back upstairs or even to check in on him. Unable to take the risk of ascending on his own, he was reduced to helpless waiting and silent speculation.
Then a new emotional presence made itself known. Or rather, burst onto his consciousness. Not only was it more focused and resolute than any he had previously discerned in the residence, it was by far the most powerful he had perceived since first arriving on Blasusarr. Without question, a distinctive presence had entered the dwelling.
Shortly thereafter, Kiijeem and Eiipul IXc appeared in the doorway to the storage chamber, and he found himself ascending to confront it.
No one said anything, no words were spoken, as they retraced the ramp route back to ground level and continued on to the upper levels of the artificial butte that formed the core of the residential compound. Flinx wanted to ask questions but, mindful of the earnestness that now enveloped his young friends, kept silent. He had the feeling that