Lost and found_ a novel - Alan Dean Foster [28]
He lost track of the days, forgetting to check his still-reliable timepiece. Perhaps, aware of the Ghouaba’s role in the betrayal of the human, the Vilenjji were fearful of losing another specimen to internecine fighting. Eventually, his term of punishment was deemed sufficient, his sentence fulfilled. Whatever the reason, on a day he did not mark, the mountainous vista in front of him and the forested one on his right both abruptly and without any warning blinked out of existence, offering unrestricted access once more to the grand enclosure and that of his four-legged canine friend.
As it happened, George was taking it easy outside his crumbling Cadillac condo, gnawing on a grayish blue food brick, when entrée was restored. So happy was Walker to see him that he put aside any thought of marching off in search of the perfidious Ghouaba.
The sight of the mutt jumping into the human’s arms and licking his face profusely must be profoundly intriguing to the watching Vilenjji, Walker was convinced. No doubt they were monitoring the release to see how their newly liberated specimen would react to its restored freedom of movement. Silently, he evoked enough seriously bad words and concomitant suggestions for physiological impossibilities to prove conclusively that the Vilenjji were not telepathic and could not monitor his thoughts. Or else they simply didn’t care.
Eventually, George got tired of licking him and Walker got tired of being licked. Together, they strolled away from the tent and out into the comparatively spacious confines of the grand enclosure. Espying the disparate pair from Earth, a few other aliens acknowledged Walker’s return to their midst. No one rushed over to congratulate him on his release, however, or to question him concerning his activities during the time when he had been kept incommunicado. Curiosity about such matters was not always healthy. It was an attitude Walker, now more than ever, respected.
George could have cared less. He was simply glad to see his friend again.
“I was worried they’d keep you shut away permanently,” the dog commented, his tail wagging like a fuzzy metronome. “Then I’d have nobody to talk to about the really important things. Like the taste of hamburger.”
“Nice to know I was missed,” Walker replied dryly. More seriously he added, “I was beginning to wonder the same thing.”
Suddenly, he paused. Shambling slackly across the ground cover not thirty feet in front of him was his betrayer, the oily little specimen from Ayll VI. Preoccupied, it was not looking in his direction. Always a fast sprinter, Walker knew he could be on top of the malicious little being before the Ghouaba realized what had hit him or could react. Without warning, a stinging pain shot through his calf, startling him. His expression transformed by surprise and shock, he looked sharply down at its perpetrator.
“You—you bit my leg.”
“Damn straight,” George growled as he backed up slightly.
“Why?”
“Because your ass was out of reach.” The woolly head jerked in the direction of the sauntering Ghouaba, who was now disappearing out of reach behind a copse of flaring Harakath bushes. “You were thinking of going for it, weren’t you?”
“Well, I—how did you know?”
“Everybody knows,” George informed him. “I didn’t see what happened to you, but others did. You found something. Something the Vilenjji didn’t want you to have. The Ghouaba told them about it. They came and took it away from you. Then they sealed you back up in your personal environment. I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. But nobody touched the entity responsible for getting you locked up. Nobody dares. You don’t do that here. Remember the—”
“The Tripodan. Yeah, I remember.” Walker’s fury faded along with the sight of the Ghouaba. “I’ll just have to try to restrain myself, keep away from it. But it would be so easy to pick it