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“My physical condition is excellent. Your decorative vegetation appears to be flourishing. Some of the oldest required trimming. In contrast, certain more recent arrivals exhibit what appears to be a kind of internal biological restraint that keeps them from overgrowing. No doubt a xenobotanist would find such cytological self-discipline of more than passing interest.”

“Maybe I'll do some research myself once I'm back aboard,” Flinx commented absently.

Rising from the sand, he stood motionless while blowers gently removed adhering granules from his back and lower body. Whereas the virtually moisture-free particles slid neatly off the slick scales of the AAnn, the therapeutic grains tended to stick to his sweaty mammalian epidermis. Bending over, he brushed at his legs to hasten the process. Nearby, Pip's head emerged from where she had contentedly buried herself in the depths of the heated basin.

“Get out of there. We're leaving,” he murmured.

Leaving for work, he told himself. Leaving for destiny, whatever it now had in store for him. His immediate future, at least, was determined. That in itself was something of a change for him. Once back on board the Teacher he knew he could look forward to weeks and probably months of continuing to search for a single alien mechanism that could by now be anywhere in the Blight—or even beyond it. Not a needle in a haystack, but an atom in the needle in the haystack. Yet again the prospect of locating the wandering Tar-Aiym weapons platform struck him as hopeless. But he had promised his friends and mentors that he would try.

As he prepared to use the local communicator to contact his hosts and inform them of his intent to depart, it occurred to him that the search might not seem quite so hopeless if he had help.

His departure from Blasusarr was quietly momentous. As the first softskin to cement actual friendship as opposed to formal alliance with the Imperial government, he was eligible for a suitably honorific send-off. Instead, with the disappointed consent of his hosts, he departed in a small, unprepossessing military shuttle. The unaware crew was surprised to see so many important personages present to exchange farewells with a single tall but otherwise ordinary-appearing nye. Tentative inquiries as to the traveler's identity were met with an official response that was notable only for its lack of actual information. The crew did not press the matter. The solitary traveler was left to himself, and the crew went about the business of preparing for liftoff with the efficiency for which the AAnn military was noted.

“Farewell.” Lord Eiipul IX exchanged final throat-grabs with the softskin in the simsuit. “I rissked a great deal on your behalf. I am glad I have nothing to regret. In fact, grissanb, my family'ss sstatuss iss sstrengthened becausse of it.”

“I'm pleased.” Stroking the side of his suit over the concealed resting pouch within, Flinx calmed Pip. She always seemed to know when they were about to leave for somewhere new.

Partings were concluded with other AAnn he had met. Last of all was young Kiijeem. His female parent was in the small group, her tongue flicking proudly.

“You have brought status to your family,” Flinx told him.

“Truly.” Slitted pupils regarded Flinx's own as the young nye's tail switched smoothly back and forth. “For ssomeone I sshould have killed on ssight, you have proven to be a usseful acquaintance.”

“Keep that thought.” Flinx smiled, careful not to show his teeth. “The useful part, not the bit about killing.”

Kiijeem's responsive gesticulation was a sign of third-degree poise. “I am AAnn. I can never put killing from my mind.”

Flinx gestured understanding. “Then try to concentrate it where it will do more good than harm.” He turned to start up the ramp that led into the waiting shuttle.

The leathery tip of a tail touched his spine. Looking around, he saw that Kiijeem remained reluctant to step back and rejoin the crowd of onlookers.

“Will I ever see you again, Flinx LLVVRXX of the Tier Ssaiinn? Will I ever be