Foster, Alan Dean Flinx 09 Sl

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membranous wings were in fact ears. As they passed the gauzy cages, the delicate captives within began
to sing. Their dulcet trills lingered in his ears as he followed close on the heels of his long-striding guide.
Grouped around the central courtyard were several clusters of whitewashed buildings. None rose higher
than two stories above the surrounding desert terrain. Occasionally they would encounter other AAnn
similarly clad in free-flowing robes such as the one he now wore. While their expressions as they glanced
in his direction were usually neutral, their emotions often were not. Reaching out with his talent, he sensed
curiosity, anger, hunger, contempt, repressed fury, and a host of other sentiments directed his way. The
overriding feeling he received was one of guarded curiosity.
That was hardly surprising, he thought. No one was less curious about himself than he.
While his own background remained a dark, shadowy, shifting place lost in the deep recesses of his
mind, more and more data about his reptiloid hosts came rushing unbidden to the fore. These were
enemies, he felt. Yet their reactions to him were confusing. Instead of leaving him to die, they had rescued
him. Instead of subjecting him to starvation, he had been given nourishment, fluids, and even freshening
scent. In place of harsh interrogation he had been offered a kind of formal welcome not unlike what
would have been offered to any visitor of their own kind.
Plainly, these were not the AAnn of his reviving memories. If not that, then what were they?
He tried to draw some conclusions not only from how he had thus far been treated, but from his
surroundings. These were AAnn: he knew there should be weapons in evidence, if only as a sign of
tradition. Yet he saw nothing of the kind. Chraluuc certainly was not armed, and unless their artfully
adorned robes masked concealed arsenals, neither were any of the nye she and he encountered as they
crossed the courtyard. He saw not so much as a ceremonial knife.
It could be his devastated memory playing tricks, he knew. Perhaps the AAnn were not, after all, the
hostile weapons carriers he seemed to be recalling. But no matter how hard he tried to rationalize it
away, that much of what he was remembering struck him as conclusive and irrefutable. It was puzzling.
No less puzzling than their treatment of him.
Were there different kinds of AAnn? From what he could recall, knowledge of them was fairly extensive
but by no means absolute. They were aggressive competitors for power and influence everywhere
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throughout the Orion Arm. They hated the thranx, disliked humans, and held many other sentient species
in casual contempt none of which fit with how he was being treated.
Unless it was all a ploy of some kind, he decided. But to what end? To get information from him? If that
was their ultimate aim, they were going to be gravely disappointed. It was hard to imagine any enterprise
more futile than trying to pump an amnesiac for information. Meanwhile, he would observe and learn, and
try to remember more and more while building up his strength.
The Ssemilionn has been made aware that you are awake and well, and that your knowledge of a
proper language iss ssatissfactory. Chraluuc directed him to a doorway. He had to duck slightly to clear
the lintel. Even it was decorated, garlanded with floating simulacre of Jastian flowers and plants.
As she entered, she moved quickly to stand to one side and with her back to him: standard AAnn
posturing to show that she remained personally vulnerable and therefore intended him no harm. He found
himself in another room. This one had opaque walls but large windows. The far wall was sharply curved
and offered a fine view through a single, sweeping, gold-tinted transparency of the boulder-strewn ridge
beyond. He squinted. The boulders, some of them quite large, appeared to have been deliberately
repositioned according to a planned but unnatural schematic. The room s domed ceiling was dominated
by a similarly golden-hued translucency.
The floor of the front half of the room where he was standing was tiled. The other half that backed up
against the curving window was paved with smooth sand, ocher daubed with yellow in swirling patterns.
Seated on high, backless cushions on this half were three elderly AAnn: two males and one female. With
the exception of one male, time had robbed their scales of youthful luster. The younger one peered back
at him out of artificial eyes. The female sported a tail that was half prosthetic, as if the original had been
damaged in a fight or lost in an accident.
Their naked emotions washed over him. In large part it was the same mix he had encountered while
crossing the courtyard, but tempered. The antagonism was not as sharp, the curiosity more pronounced.
Introductions were made. He filed the names for future reference and was pleased that he could recall
them. His memory facilities were not permanently damaged, then. Only drained.
You are a human, the older male Naalakot declared. Flinx saw no especial reason to dispute this,
having more or less reached the same conclusion himself. What iss a human doing out here, alone, on
the unpopulated reachess of the Ssmuldaar Plateau?
It s not unpopulated, Flinx countered immediately. You re here.
Hisses of amusement emerged from the mouths of the Elder s companions while Chraluuc discreetly
clamped her snout shut with one hand. Unoffended, Naalakot responded with a gesture of polite
concession as his synthetic eyes focused more closely on the visitor.
Your point iss granted, but failss to enlighten. What happened to you? Ceerani the physician reported
that when found you were near death.
I was I am . . . , Flinx struggled to remember. I was just looking around.
Jusst looking around , repeated the elderly female Xeerelu. That iss not ussually a fatal passion. Nor
doess it explain what happened to you, and why you were found in ssuch a dire sstate.
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I was . . . On his shoulders, Pip peered anxiously at her master as he fought with himself. I I don t
know what happened to me. I don tremember. All I recall is passing out and then waking up to
see he indicated the patiently watching Chraluuc her coming toward me.
The triumvirate of the Ssemilionn exchanged gestures of agreement. Sso you inssisst you were jusst
looking around. How doess that relate to you individually? Where are you come from? What iss it that
you do when you are not looking around ?
They were interested, he felt, not only out of natural AAnn caution, but because they were genuinely [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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