Lost and found_ a novel - Alan Dean Foster [105]
His satisfaction was multiplied by the fact that the once all-powerful Vilenjji had been reduced to such a state by beings far smaller than themselves. As everywhere else on their enormous ship, active, efficient Sessrimathe were everywhere: quietly but firmly directing the detainees toward one of several distant portals, urging the occasional laggard onward, gesturing with Sessrimathe-sized weapons that Walker had no doubt could wreak destructive havoc entirely out of proportion to their unpretentious size. The more he saw of the Sessrimathe, the more he liked and admired them, and not only because they were responsible for liberating him and his friends from the Vilenjji. In contrast to the latter they were, as even Sque might grudgingly be forced to admit, an altogether civilized people.
As they passed in involuntary review, only one or two of the Vilenjji bothered to look up at those who had taken them into custody. Supercilious as ever, it was possible they had not yet fully come to terms with their forcibly altered status. One alien happened to let his glance fall upon the four former inventory. George shrank from that morbidly implacable gaze, while Walker and Braouk were of one mind, eager to respond with violence. Only Sque was unmoved, rendered immune to that unblinking stare by her own incorrigible sense of self-importance.
When the Vilenjji addressed them, it was with an understated confidence that chilled Walker’s blood far more thoroughly than any overt display of anger or aggression would have.
“I, Pret-Klob, note a setback that will result in a regrettable downward projection of profits for the forthcoming fiscal period. The association will be forced to modify its most recent fiduciary forecast. A temporary setback only, as are all such for the Vilenjji. It is not unknown for Sessrimathe zeal to be misplaced. This is one such instance. Be assured that in the realness of time, the natural order of things will be restored.” The owlish alien eyes seemed almost apologetic. “It is only business.”
Emboldened by the alien’s restraints, George stepped forward. “Yeah, well, we’re free and you’re walking around with your forepaws glued to your ribs. Chew on that bone for a while!”
Infuriatingly, the Vilenjji did not deign to reply to the small barking creature that was so clearly beneath it both physically and mentally. Escorted by armed Sessrimathe, Pret-Klob was led out of the receiving area in the company of the rest of his intractable association members. When the last of them had vanished through a far portal, Walker turned to Tzharoustatam.
“What’s going to happen to them now?”
Patches and stripes of intense blue and pink shimmered against the white background of the Sessrimathe’s immaculate attire. “They will be delivered to the nearest world capable of hearing the charges against them. There they will be prosecuted according to the principles of general civilized law. Their vessel has been impounded and is in the process of being thoroughly searched, both to free any additional abductees who may be held elsewhere and to accumulate evidence against your captors. You need no longer fear them.”
Leaning forward, Braouk extended all four massive upper appendages in the Sessrimathe’s direction. “Hardly we know, how thanks to give, our liberators.”
Tzharoustatam responded with a gesture making use of all three arms that was as graceful as it was self-effacing. “Civilization stands on the willingness of those who back up its principles with more than words. What we did was done not expressly to release you and the others but to uphold those values. You may regard your restored freedom as an ancillary benefit.”
Walker did not give a damn about Sessrimathe motivations. What mattered were the consequences. The Vilenjji were under arrest, and he and his friends were free. Free to return home. In the course of his work as a commodities trader he had encountered and utilized more than his share of four-letter terminology, but none more appealing than that one. Home. Never in his life had he ever imagined so small