Mid-Flinx (18 page)

Under the circumstances he did all he felt he could; he put his arm around her and held her in return.

Nearby, the big furcot watched the two humans while munching on the last of the nude mink.

“What are they doing, Saalahan?” Tuuvatem inquired respectfully.

The great, tusked head inclined in the youngster’s direction. “Comforting one another.”

“But neither is wounded,” Moomadeem pointed out.

“I know. It is a strange way of human persons. They comfort each other even in the absence of injury. They imagine pain for themselves, invent agonies where there is no cause.”

“Why would they do that?” Tuuvatem’s three eyes were wide with innocence.

“I don’t know,” Saalahan replied candidly. “It is a characteristic peculiar to human persons. No other creature does such a thing.”

“It seems wasteful,” commented Moomadeem.

“I agree. I don’t pretend to understand it. I’m not sure the human persons understand it themselves. It is just a thing that is.”

“This odd new human person,” Moomadeem asked, changing the subject, “do you think he will stay with Teal and her cubs?”

“I don’t know that, either.”

“Impossible,” declared Tuuvatem. “He has no furcot.”

“No, but he has the pretty flying thing. The bond between them is not unlike that between human and furcot. Similar, yet different. Maybe it is enough.”

“Perhaps where this Flinx human comes from the human persons all have little flying creatures instead of furcots,” Moomadeem suggested.

“Perhaps,” Saalahan admitted with just a touch of condescension.

They watched the persons for a time before Moomadeem spoke again. “Saalahan, I know that Dwell is my human, but humans come out of other humans. Where do we come from?”

“The same place that gives life to everything: from the great forest.”

“I know that everything comes from the forest
originally
,” Moomadeem replied. “Even humans, originally. But I have seen them born into the world, and I have learned that it takes two adult humans to make one new one. What does it take to make a furcot, and why is a furcot made whenever a human is born?”

“Balance,” the elder explained. “Balance is everything. Without a person a furcot dies. Without a furcot a person may live, but never for as long, and only with great difficulty. Without furcots I think all the persons would die out.”

“And what would be the danger of that?”

Saalahan considered thoughtfully before responding. “Perhaps it is important for the balance of the world for there to be persons in it. Certainly they make life much more interesting.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Moomadeem admitted. “Dwell has never failed to amuse me with his antics, nor Kiss, either.”

“Then perhaps that is our purpose.” As Saalahan shifted its great bulk, bark was rubbed away beneath it. “To be amused by persons and to help them survive. There are far worse kinds of existence. You could be a panic beetle, for instance, growing inside in a tree for years only to come forth and flash the light for a few days, frantic to mate before death overcomes you.”

“That would be a poor existence,” Moomadeem had to admit.

“Much better to be a furcot with a person of your very own.” Saalahan turned back to the humans and the gamboling children. “No matter how deeply this flying creature satisfies the needs of the new person, I feel badly that he has no furcot to look after him. At times he seems content, and at others, very troubled. I sense that he is happy with his small companion yet unhappy within himself.” A huge claw dug idly at one nostril.

“And that, Moomadeem cub, is worse than being a panic beetle.”

Following Teal’s suggestion, they ended up spending another night safe within the spectacular surrounds of the burnt-out cavity in the side of the branch. That night, the rain clouds did not gather for several hours after sunset. For the first time since he’d entered orbit, Flinx was allowed a glimpse of the world’s two large moons. As viewed from the planet’s surface, their dominance of the night sky was total.

They cast a doubled glow across the valley in the trees, occasionally illuminating the passage of some great nocturnal predator as it passed by on silent wings. Their pure, unsullied light revealed for the first time the remarkable night-blooming plants that had heretofore been concealed by darkness and rain. Tinted a thousand shades of gray, an entirely new and compelling vista burst forth to satisfy his hungry eyes.

Like a fistful of knives flung at the inner canopy, a flock of sharp-spined predators slashed into the trees. Out of many, just a few emerged victorious, only to have their catch contested by those of their companions who had failed. Their eerie, piercing cries echoed across the moonlit valley, fading as they covered distance in their battle for aerial supremacy.

Several broke away to pursue a cluster of thickly feathered fruit eaters. Instead of wings, their torpedo-shaped bodies were entirely surrounded by a cylindrical tube that pushed them through the air in fits and starts. Capable of phenomenal but brief bursts of speed, they plunged with much agitated squawking into the canopy in search of cover and safety.

“
Quinifers
.” Teal rose on one arm to point. “They can turn very sharply, but they have poor vision. Once, an entire flock flew into our shaman’s house. We picked them off the ground, dazed, and caressed them until they recovered. They are not good to eat. Too many tendons and ligaments.”

Flinx’s talent had chosen to take some time off, and try as he would, he couldn’t sense what she was really feeling. So he simply nodded understanding as something with three enormous yellow eyes went flapping past, looking like a runaway pawnshop symbol with wings. Everywhere you turned, another zoological or botanical wonder manifested itself, fairly begging to be classified. Once again he realized that this planet was a xenotaxonomist’s dream—or nightmare. He would be very much surprised if it did not contain the most extensive and diverse biota of any world yet discovered.

He leaned back against Teal and half closed his eyes. It was a terrible thing to be cursed with curiosity. “A vision of responsibility,” Teal had more or less called it. Try as he might, he knew he would be unable to cast it aside.

On balance, he would far rather have had a headache.

Chapter Fourteen

The morning dawned clear, beautiful, and sultry, as the last of the night-rain dripped and coursed from the tips of leaves and down the flanks of trees and creepers, beginning its long journey toward the distant regions of the Lower Hell. The majority of the moisture would never reach the surface. It would be caught and trapped along the way by expansive bromeliads, enterprising epiphytes, aerial roots, and thirsty fauna.

The sleepy occupants of the cavity stretched and yawned. It was Dwell who announced that he would be first to see if he could find something fresh and surprising for breakfast. Nimble as a cat, he scrambled over the back of a drowsy Saalahan and up over the edge of the opening.

Still suffering from the effects of his epiphanic vision of the day before, Flinx did his best to loosen cramped muscles as the youngster’s feet disappeared from view. A fall from the branch could have been fatal, but he no longer worried about the children’s safety. They were infinitely more agile and confident clambering about the forest tangles than he ever would be. For a few moments they heard Dwell rustling about atop the branch. Then his movements grew muffled and faint.

Flinx glanced back at Teal. She was truly lovely, he decided. Difficult to believe she had two half-grown offspring. Trying to assay her emotions, he found that he could not. At the moment, his frustratingly erratic abilities were not functioning. Tomorrow likely would be different, or tonight.

No matter. The look on her face conveyed a good sense of what she was feeling.

Mother Mastiff would have approved of her, but then Mother Mastiff would have approved of anyone. All that irascible old woman had ever wanted was for her adopted son to find someone to share his life with, settle down in one place, and be happy. Unfortunately, the older he grew the more unlikely it seemed that there would be room in his life for any such charmingly domestic developments. He’d been born to something else, and was still in the process of finding out what that might be.

The shouting from above came as a surprise. Howls and screeches, bellows and roars he would have expected, but not shouts.

“There he goes!  . . . Grab him!  . . . Don’t let him get away!  . . . The net, use the net  . . . !”

Teal sprang to her feet, eyes staring upward as if they could pierce the solid wood. “I don’t understand. The accents are strange and sound like more of your kind. Skypersons.” Subsumed in the frenzy of struggle, the shouts and urgent cries were diminishing.

“Skypersons, yes,” he murmured, “but they’re not relations or friends of mine.” Now intensely alert, Pip hovered protectively near his shoulder. “They’re enemies.”

“Enemies,” Moomadeem growled softly. Claws securing a firm grip on the wood, the young furcot swung out onto the side of the branch.

“No, wait!” Flinx grabbed at the clipped green fur.

Moomadeem hesitated and looked expectantly back at Saalahan. The big furcot reached out to put a massive paw on the cub’s middle shoulder as it explained.

“Flinx speaks smart. They already have your person. Better not to charge blindly into something we do not understand.”

Teal was teetering on the edge of the cavity, trying to see upward. “Don’t hurt him! He’s just a child!”

“Hey, there’s a woman!” To his regret and embarrassment, it was a voice Flinx thought he recognized.

His suspicions were quickly confirmed. “Philip Lynx, come on out of your hole! We know you’re down there.”

“How’d you learn my real name?” He had to restrain Pip from rising to the attack.

“There’s a lot of information on your shuttle,” replied the voice of Jack-Jax Coerlis. “Not everything I’d like to know, but enough. Are you coming up?”

“There’s nowhere else to go. Just don’t hurt the boy.”

“Why would I want to hurt him? He’s a funny-looking little savage with a nasty temper, but I don’t hold that against him. I’d be on edge myself if I had to spend much time here. Now, where there’s a boy this age, there’s usually a mother, so why don’t all of you come on out? You know what’s between you and me, Lynx. Hurting ignorant bystanders isn’t a part of it—so long as you cooperate.”

“There’s no one else here.” Flinx did his utmost to make the declaration sound convincing.

“Don’t try me, Lynx. We’ve been listening to you gab down there for the last ten minutes. I know there’s a woman and a girl. I heard you talking to the woman.”

Heard me
, Flinx thought anxiously. Then it struck him that Coerlis knew nothing of furcots, nor had Saalahan or Moomadeem uttered anything above a whisper.

“Surely these people will not harm Dwell.” Teal’s eyes were wide with disbelief.

“I hate to tell you this, Teal, but where I come from there’s a surplus of persons. It’s not necessary to cooperate in order to survive. Sensible and rational, yes, but not necessary. We shouldn’t take any chances. It’ll be all right, you’ll see. It’s me they want to talk to.”

“You first, Lynx,” Coerlis shouted down to him. “We have weapons out and ready, so I suggest you put a hand on the minidrag if you want to keep it alive.”

Flinx gripped Pip just below her head, gently but firmly. “Easy,” he murmured to her. She was taut as a wire, fully conscious of his discomfort. He whispered tautly to Saalahan. “They don’t know you’re down here. Let’s try to keep it that way. Can you give me a boost?”

The big furcot nodded. Grasping Flinx around the waist with both forepaws, it raised him effortlessly off the floor of the cavity and lifted him outside. Glancing down, Flinx saw that the curve of the branch concealed the heavy paws. His expression grim, he scrambled up onto the top of the branch, heedless of the sheer drop below.

Waiting to confront him was an alien of a size and countenance he didn’t recognize. It was as massive as a furcot but not as stocky. Its emotional state remained closed to him, but at the moment he couldn’t even read Teal.

Two of its four arms firmly pinioned a defiant Dwell, while the others clutched a large rifle. Most ten-year-olds would have been thoroughly intimidated by the Mu’Atahl, but not Dwell. Compared to the dangers he knew and lived with every day there in the arboreal heights, he did not find the alien particularly impressive.

For the first time since Flinx had crossed paths with Jack-Jax Coerlis, he saw the man smile contentedly. “Surprised?”

“Yes and no. At your resources, not your obsessive behavior.”

“One man’s obsession is another man’s fortitude

At that moment Pip tore free of Flinx’s grasp and shot forward, taking care to aim straight at Coerlis’s eyes before anyone had time to react. As the merchant yelped, a thin stream of pressurized venom gleamed in the yellow-green light.

Shifting the heavy weapon he held, Chaa fired. Dilating as it emerged from the special gun, the weighted net englobed Pip and carried the flying snake to the ground. Eyes burning, she lay there beneath the composite netting, flopping and flapping furiously against the restraint, unable to rise.

Flinx started toward the imprisoned minidrag. “You could’ve killed her!”

“Hold it there, sonny. Remember me?” A grinning Peeler had his pistol pointed directly at Flinx’s chest.

Flinx spared the man a glance. “Yes, I remember you. Where’s your associate?”

Peeler’s grin evaporated. “Dead. Some little crawling things got him. No,” he corrected himself, “this planet got him. But it won’t get me, and now we’ve got you.” Keeping his pistol trained on Flinx, he walked over and roughly removed the younger man’s equipment belt.

“Aimee.” Holding his pistol in one hand, Coerlis used a special industrial cloth to wipe the viscous venom from his protective flip-down face shield. “The minidrag.”

An attractive blond woman carrying a gray mesh sack advanced to the spraddled net and its incensed captive. In addition to chameleon suit and helmet with face shield, she wore heavy gloves designed for handling powerful solvents and chemicals.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Flinx warned her.

She glared back at him. “You don’t look threatening. Mr. Coerlis said as much.” Crouching, she worked the open mouth of the sack forward beneath the netting. With a hiss, Pip fired a burst of venom in her direction. It struck the face guard and she flinched.

Coerlis frowned. “You okay, Aimee? Any of the poison get under your shield?”

“N-No,” she muttered. “Jack-Jax, I—I’m not doing so good. Maybe you should have someone else do this.”

“If the poison didn’t penetrate the shield then there’s nothing wrong. Everyone else is busy. Get on with it.”

“R-R-Right. Feeling a little better now.”

She continued to work the sack forward along the wood until the flying snake was trapped against a fold of netting. A quick shove, a twist, and Pip was caught up in the bag. The minidrag thrashed about furiously, but the uncommon weave was immune to the effects of the normally corrosive venom. The confident engineer straightened and secured the sack with a flexible slip tie.

“Got it!”

Coerlis removed his helmet and face shield. In the heat and humidity the military headgear couldn’t be tolerated for long, but it had more than served its intended purpose. His companions did likewise, stowing the collapsible helmets in appropriate belt pouches.

As Coerlis was packing his away he noticed Flinx watching him. “Special lenses. After what happened on Samstead you didn’t think I’d come all this way without making suitable preparations, did you?” When Flinx didn’t respond he glanced over at his engineer. “Aimee, are we all secure?”

“In a minute.” She carefully slid the sack containing the minidrag into another, heavier bag. “All set.”

As if everything that had happened already wasn’t enough, a dull pounding had started at the back of Flinx’s head.

“You can’t take her. We’ve been together since I was a child!”

Coerlis was singularly unimpressed. “Then I’d say it was time to grow up. Besides, in a little while it won’t matter to you anyway.” Even though he feared only the flying snake, he kept the muzzle of his weapon pointed at Flinx’s chest.

“You can’t kill me. There’s something I have to do. It’s important to everyone. Me, you, the entire Commonwealth.”

“There’s nothing you can have to do that’s important to anyone,” the cocksure Coerlis corrected him. “Not anymore. All that matters now is what’s important to
me
.”

Flinx didn’t try to argue. How could he explain the substance of his dreaming to someone like Jack-Jax Coerlis? For that matter, how could he explain it to anyone?

“All right. Let’s get it over with.” He started down the branch.

“What’s your hurry?” A hint of a smile cracked Coerlis’s expression. “Did you think I’d forgotten that you’re not alone?”

Flinx’s stare was so intense the disconcerted Coerlis found himself looking away without knowing why. “You said you wouldn’t harm them. Why not just let the boy go and leave it at that?”

“When
I’m
ready.” The merchant moved to the edge of the branch and leaned out. Flinx tensed. “You down there! Come on up,
now
.”

Flinx could only look on helplessly as first Kiss and then Teal climbed up to join him. Their captor studied them dispassionately.

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” Coerlis’s eyes started with Teal’s hair and worked their way downward. “Except that you’ve got feet like a chimp.” Flinx’s lips tightened, but Teal didn’t react. Knowing nothing of chimps or their physiological peculiarities, she wasn’t insulted. Come to think of it, Flinx decided, if she had known, she might have been flattered by the comparison.

“You’ve seen them. Now let them go. Please.” Flinx nodded toward Dwell.

Ignoring him as if he was already dead, Coerlis walked a slow circle around Teal and Kiss. “Very pretty. There shouldn’t be natives here. Aimee?”

The engineer could only shrug. “According to the charts, there shouldn’t be a planet here. So why not natives as well?” She blinked and shook her head sharply, as if something small, superfast, and loud had abruptly buzzed her ears.

“Quite a world, this is.” Standing on the edge of the branch, the merchant gazed at the spectacular vista presented by the sunken valley in the trees. “Rife with commercial prospects, if a little on the nasty side. Unlimited quantity of exotic wood products, boundless pharmaceutical potential, the pet trade, who knows what else? Take a fully equipped expedition just to begin basic cataloging.”

Teal leaned toward Flinx. “What is the unpleasant skyperson talking about?”

“He’s the type of individual who’s not happy just being in the world. He has to possess it.”

She frowned. “No one can possess the world. It belongs to everyone, just as everyone belongs to it.”

“Some skypersons think otherwise.”

“Try to possess the world and it will kill you,” she deposed knowingly.

Coerlis overheard. “It’s sure killed some of us.” The way he said it made him sound as if he was referring to a couple of pieces of especially valuable office equipment. “But I’m still here, along with a few of my friends, and we’ve learned the hard lessons. From now on it’s we who’ll do the possessing.” He put a finger under Teal’s chin. “Knowing, however, that the overconfident tend to die young, I’m going to rely on you to lead the way back. We’ll choose the route and you can show us what to avoid.”

“Then when we reach the landing site you’ll let them go?” It took a tremendous effort of will on Flinx’s part to keep from jumping Coerlis as the merchant continued to finger Teal. She remained motionless, ignoring the attention stoically.

Captor glanced back at his quarry. “Why not? I don’t kill for fun, you know. I have to have a good reason.” He nodded at Dwell. “I don’t want him. Or her,” he added, glancing down at where Kiss stood clinging wide-eyed to her mother’s leg.

“Why should I bother with them? As the discoverer, or rediscoverer, of this world, I’m entitled to first exploitation rights as soon as it’s been appropriately registered and classified.”

“Who’re you trying to fool?” Flinx retorted evenly. “You know as well as I that if anyone has rights here, it’s these people. Their claim supersedes yours by an order of magnitude.”