Lost and found_ a novel - Alan Dean Foster [85]
It got so bad that, reluctantly, Pret-Klob felt compelled to request an associational consultation. It being unconscionable that such a gathering had been forced by the actions of a quartet of inventory, it was announced that such a meeting was long overdue in any case, and was being called primarily to review and update certain routine procedures. Though the pretense fooled no one, all who attended adhered to it. The alternative was too depressing to countenance.
When all those of rank had signed in, the consultation sphere glowed to life. Since every part of the sphere’s interior was equi-distant to every other part, all were equal within its borders, even Pret-Klob. The sphere was not large, but to hold only heads it did not have to be. No Vilenjji was physically present, of course. There was no need to draw crew from stations in order to have a consultation. It was more than sufficient for the avatars of their heads to be there. Nothing more was required. The Vilenjji were not a species who needed to accentuate communication by means of active limb gestures.
A conspicuously reluctant Dven-Palt opened the proceedings with a recapitulation of her hunting team’s encounter with the inventory’s aromatic affront. It had been, the floating heads of everyone present had to admit, cunningly conceived and executed. A compliment to the abilities of the astray inventory. No one laughed. The mortification that had occurred could have been inflicted on any of them. Anyway, unlike the lesser races, the Vilenjji did not suffer from an overindulgence in high spirits.
When, with relief audible in her final inflection, she finished and returned to silence, Pret-Klob’s avatar brightened and opened the consultation to submissions.
“As head of our mutual association, so designated by you all in gratitude for my ability to make decisions, maintain the effective functioning of our enterprise, and consistently deliver a profit, I am ready and willing to consider any and all suggestions and ideas concerning how best to deal with what has developed into a situation unprecedented in our experience. Despite our best efforts (here he deliberately avoided looking in the direction of Dven-Palt’s cranial avatar), four of the inventory remain at large somewhere within the ship. While they pose no direct danger to it or to us, and will eventually be found and recaptured, the longer they remain at large the greater is the injury to our self-esteem.”
Brid-Nwol’s avatar strengthened for attention. “I beg to differ with the associational head when he states that the at-large inventory pose no threat to the ship or to us. Assuming the four are moving about together, they have already demonstrated an ability to pass undetected between sectors, as well as to physically and adversely affect food distribution facilities. If they can impact upon the latter, what is to stop them from interfering with more critical components of ship operation?”
“Ignorance,” Kvaj-Mwif responded immediately, saving Pret-Klob the necessity of doing so. “Or fear of damaging equipment and instrumentation that could result in their own deaths. They have by their actions thus far shown themselves to be creatures of logic, albeit inferior ones. It therefore seems to me unlikely that, having gone to so much trouble and effort to stay alive, they would suddenly decide to make decisions that could negate all they have striven to achieve.”
Brid-Nwol was not to be so quickly put off. “You ascribe to inventory motivation that is rightly the province of higher beings. While we are well familiar with the physical requirements and responses of inventory in stock, we know little of their primitive psychologies. While they may resist obstinately one moment, the next could see them resigning themselves to suicide—and in so doing, inflicting damage