For Love of Mother-Not - Alan Dean Foster [69]
One of the trio, the short, toad-faced man, had spoken of “adjusting” her and of “implants.” That was enough to convince her to prepare for something worse than death. Many of their words made no sense to her. She still had no idea who the people were, much less where they had come from or the reasons for their actions. They never spoke to her, ignoring her questions as well as her curses.
Actually, they did not treat her as a human being at all, but rather as a delicate piece of furniture. Their current conversation was the most peculiar yet, for one of them was expressing fear of her boy. She could not imagine why. True, Flinx had tamed a dangerous animal, that horrid little flying creature, but that was hardly a feat to inspire fear in such people. They knew he occasionally had the ability to sense what others were feeling. Yet far from fearing such erratic and minor talents, these people discussed them as if they were matters of great importance.
None of which explained why they’d kidnapped her. If their real interest lay with her boy, then why hadn’t they kidnapped him? The whole affair was too complicated a puzzle for her to figure out. Mother Mastiff was not a stupid woman, and her deficiency in formal education did not blunt her sharp, inquiring mind; still she could not fathom what was happening to her, or why.
She let her attention drift from the argument raging across the table nearby to study the room to which she had been brought. Most of the illumination came from the impressive array of electronics lining the walls. Everything she could see hinted of portability and hurried installation. She had no idea as to the purpose of the instrumentation, but she had been around enough to know that such devices were expensive. That, and the actions of the people who had abducted her, hinted at an organization well stocked with money as well as malign intentions.
“I’m not even sure,” Nyassa-lee was saying, “that the subject realizes how he’s managed to follow us this far.”
“There is likely nothing mysterious about it,” Haithness argued. “Remember that he is a product of an intensely competitive, if primitive, environment. Urban youths grow up fast when left to their own resources. He may not have enjoyed much in the way of a formal education, but he’s been schooled in the real world—something we’ve had to master ourselves these past years. And he may have had some ordinary, quite natural luck.”
“These past years,” Brora was mumbling sadly. “Years that should have been spent prying into the great mysteries of the universe instead of learning how to make contacts with and use of the criminal underworld.”
“I feel as wasted as you do, Brora,” the tall woman said soothingly, “but vindication lies at hand.”
“If you’re both determined to proceed, then I vote that we begin immediately.” Nyassa-lee sighed.
“Immediately with what?” a crotchety voice demanded. For some reason, the question caused the trio to respond, whereas previous attempts to draw their attention had failed miserably.
Nyassa-lee left the table and approached Mother Mastiff. She tried to adopt a kindly, understanding expression, but was only partly successful. “We’re scientists embarked on a project of great importance to all mankind. I’m sorry we’ve been forced to inconvenience you, but this is all necessary. I wish you were of a more educated turn of mind and could understand our point of view. It would make things easier for you.”
“Inconvenienced!” Mother Mastiff snorted. “Ye pluck me out of my house and haul