For an answer Flinx continued to stare skyward, though he gestured with his right hand toward the control panel. “Put back the canopy,” he requested. Tse-Mallory started to object. Flinx’s voice rose almost hysterically! “The canopy—put it back!”
The human scientist exchanged looks with his thranx companion, who simply shrugged. Tse-Mallory activated a control, and the transparent polyplexalloy dome slid back into the body of the skimmer, leaving only transparent sides, doors, and front windshield in place.
Hasboga moved to stand alongside Flinx. She stared into the sky. “I don’t see anything, Flinx,” she said with surprising gentleness.
“There,” he told her, pointing. “Coming toward us out of the sun . . . it has to be . . . I’m sure it is!”
Two shapes wove a descending spiral, dancing on the air. Two small dragon-forms stark against mountains of cloud. One was noticeably larger than the other.
A hundred meters above the skimmer, they finished their aerial choreography and separated. Balthazaar flew off in the direction of the sun. The other began a steady twisting dive toward the open skimmer.
“That’s a dragon!” Hasboga gasped, reaching for her sidearm. Flinx put a restraining hand on hers.
“No, it’s all right, Isili. It’s mine. It’s Pip.” His voice was cracking, despite his best efforts at self-control.
A familiar diamond-patterned shape braked, pleated wings backbeating the air, tail and lower body hooked out and extended. Flinx raised his right arm out from his side. Pip dropped for it, tail curving around the proffered perch. The pleated wings folded tight to the body, and then the flying snake was ensconced in its usual position of rest on Flinx’s shoulder.
Reaching down, its master affectionately stroked the back of the triangular head. While the minidrag, as always, showed no outward sign of emotion, Flinx could sense a feeling of pleasure in his pet. Empathy cloaked him like the warm glow of stones surrounding a wood fire. Several moments passed in silence before Flinx noticed that everyone in the skimmer was staring at him.
“Your pet came back,” Truzenzuzex finally said, explaining Pip to the still-uncertain Hasboga and September. “I am pleased for you, Flinx. I remember what you two meant to each other.” With that, he turned and activated the skimmer controls.
Hasboga eyed the snake warily, but settled back in her seat as the lithe craft picked up speed. Soon they were speeding back toward Alaspinport, traveling just above the waving grass of the savannas.
When the exuberance experienced on his pet’s return had faded some, Flinx thought to turn and look over at September. The giant was enjoying the ride, since someone else was doing the piloting for a change. Thick fingers were running absently through his wild, wavy white hair. His nose interrupted the view behind him like a plow.
“Skua?”
September faced him and offered a pleasant, toothy smile. “What is it, young feller-me-lad?”
Flinx glanced significantly down at his now-occupied right shoulder. “My minidrag. His name is Pip.” He touched one leathery wing, and the snake shifted sleepily. His attention returned to September. “Twelve years ago, back on Moth, you lost a young minidrag, remember?”
“I see what you’re thinking, lad.” September put both hands around one knee, which resembled a knot on a tree, and leaned back again, thinking. “All minidrags look the same to me, lad. As to whether your Pip happens to be the one I lost, I’m guessing it’s possible. I never named my snake, so there’s no way of knowing, is there? Minidrags aren’t common off Alaspin. I wouldn’t know of any others that had been on Moth then. Might have been. If your Pip is the one, that would be an interesting coincidence, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, it sure would.” Flinx kept his voice carefully even.
“Signifying nothing.” September finished with that, and turned his gaze to the scenery slipping past outside.
Flinx did likewise, watching the savanna roll past as Truzenzuzex and Tse-Mallory skillfully maneuvered the craft over low hills, around trees and upthrust, unweathered rock spires.
“Signifying nothing,” he murmured softly to himself.
At Alaspinport, Flinx was forced to reveal that he had his own ship. That was fine with Tru and Bran. Flinx permitted them to commandeer it—on one condition. “I’m not through questioning September,” he whispered to Tse-Mallory.
The scientist regarded him somberly. “You’ll have him around for a while yet, Flinx. Hasboga has undoubtedly told him of our plans. For their own protection, we must take both with us until this matter is resolved. If not, they will be questioned by the Qwarm. I don’t think they would be permitted to live.”
Neither Hasboga nor September objected to a free trip off Alaspin, once it was explained to them what might happen if they remained. Both appeared to be under the impression that they would be delivered immediately to some larger, safe world like Terra or New Paris. Flinx didn’t exactly lie about that, he simply neglected to tell either of them that they would be taking a long route around.
As they left the surface of Alaspin, Truzenzuzex’s damnable curiosity prompted him to ask Flinx how he had acquired the impressive sum necessary to purchase and operate a private, system-jumping vessel like the Teacher. Flinx could not explain that the Teacher had been built by his precocious pupils, the Ulru-Ujurrians. Yet it was extremely difficult to lie believably in front of someone as perceptive as Truzenzuzex. So, in what he hoped was a natural tone of voice, he explained that he had purchased the ship out of the money given him by Maxim Malaika as reward for his part in discovering the Krang. When he ran out of money to operate the vessel, he would have to sell it.
Truzenzuzex appeared to accept this facile explanation readily enough, though Flinx could detect a familiar twinge of suspicion in the philosoph’s mind even as he acknowledged the story.
Presently, they entered the Teacher with the insect explaining that Flinx’s fast ship was the reason they were so long in tracking him down on Alaspin. Meanwhile, Flinx went about the difficult task of assigning quarters to everyone on a ship that had not been designed with passengers in mind.
“We’ve always been just a step behind you, Flinx,” Truzenzuzex said. “On Moth we had to stop and deal with the Qwarm, while you made your way to the shuttleport. Then you outdistanced us because we were forced to take a commercial ship to Alaspin, one which stopped several times along the way, while you raced here directly. We were lucky to find you as soon as we did.”
They entered the spacious lounge, spacious because Flinx enjoyed space and the Teacher had that to spare. The room accommodated them all comfortably.
The philosoph gazed around approvingly. “A fine ship you have for yourself, Flinx.”
“Adequate” was the youth’s response.
“I do not understand where the name came from.”
“A whim.” Flinx managed only a half-lie this time. “I’ve always had thoughts about being a teacher.”
“An admirable profession. One to which too few beings dedicate themselves. I find most, sadly, to be teaching because they have good minds but no imagination. Teaching is charity for the intelligent.”
Leaving the lounge to Hasboga and September, Flinx led the two scientists to the pilot’s compartment. Three walls were embroidered with controls, the fourth showed naked space.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked, hands poised over the ship’s instrumentation.
For the first time, Truzenzuzex and Tse-Mallory did not have a ready answer. Both glanced at Ab, who had trailed the three forward and was now rhyming at a rapid pace. Flinx couldn’t tell whether the philosoph was making any sense of the alien’s verses.
“Actually,” Tse-Mallory had to admit, “we don’t know yet. Somewhere in the Blight, but we need at least a clue from your Ab. For now, head in the direction of Hivehom. It’s best if we leave Alaspin’s vicinity.”
Flinx conveyed the requisite orders to the navigation computer, which responded promptly, though it hesitate
d at the lack of a specific destination. A halo of deep purple formed at the nose of the ship, visible manifestation of the great KK drive’s posigravity field. At minimal acceleration, so as not to interact with Alaspin’s gravity well, the Teacher began to move out of orbit. Once they were the minimum safe number of planetary diameters out, the drive would be fully engaged and the ship would leap ahead at a multiple of the speed of light.
“There’s a ship coming into orbit.” Flinx gazed interestedly at a gauge on the console.
“Not much traffic to this world,” murmured Tse-Mallory. To Flinx’s surprise, both he and Truzenzuzex moved to activate several sensor controls and the large screen.
“Monitor configuration,” Tse-Mallory instructed as he manipulated several controls.
“Monitoring.” Truzenzuzex’s delicate truhands made fine adjustments.
Flinx was prepared to leave the ship’s controls on automatic. However, he turned curiously instead of walking from the chamber. “Wait a minute. What’s all the excitement about?” While Pip shifted on his shoulder, he stared at the two scientists, who were watching instruments with intense concentration. Flinx’s gaze narrowed. “The incoming ship . . . You still haven’t told me who hired the Qwarm. I think I can guess, judging from what you told me about certain forces who want to see the rogue destroy Carmague-Collangatta and Twosky Bright. But I can’t be sure.”
“We intend to tell you, Flinx.” Tse-Mallory spoke without taking his attention from the controls beneath his hands. “Does it matter so much to you? It’s Ab they’re after.”
“I’d like very much to know why someone’s trying to murder me because of Ab. That is,” he added sarcastically, “if it wouldn’t be too much to ask, since I’ve given you the use of my ship.”
Both scientists were immune to sarcasm. Truzenzuzex’s truhands continued to fine-tune controls, but he beckoned Flinx to his side with a foothand. “You wish to know, Flinx.” The youth moved alongside him. “There they are.” He indicated the shape neatly focused on the computer tridee tracker. “Do you recognize that configuration? You are a bright human. I am certain your guess is correct. Now, who would stand to benefit most by the damage to Commonwealth production and population the rogue collapsar would cause?”
Flinx considered his supposition in the new light of the image displayed on the viewscreen. It confirmed what he had suspected, all right. But seeing physical proof was a good deal more ominous than simply supposing.
September and Hasboga walked into the piloting chamber. “I thought,” September bellowed, “that since we’re on our way, it might be fun to . . .” Frowning, he stopped. He squinted hard at the picture on the screen. “Funny . . . that looks like an AAnn courier ship.” Hasboga looked questioningly at him. He ignored her, crossing the floor in several huge strides to peer closely at the screen. “No . . . no, by Pallanthian’s Ghosts, it’s a destroyer!” He turned a no-nonsense gaze on Tse-Mallory. “What’s an AAnn warship doing inside Commonwealth boundaries?”
“Boundaries, Mr. September?” Tse-Mallory tried to look innocent. “You can’t draw boundaries in space.”
“No, but you sure can on navigation charts,” September shot back. “No one makes mistakes light-years deep, not with automatic positioning equipment.”
“No one said they had made a mistake,” Tse-Mallory’s voice was even, composed. He returned his attention to the controls in front of him. “You needn’t sound so melodramatic, September. You rave like a tridee fisherfax. Everyone puts too much reliance on boundaries. Absurd, when the boundary of the AAnn Empire and that of the Commonwealth are hundreds of light-years high, wide, and deep. You can’t build a fence, not even with the best deep-range monitoring systems. You can monitor worlds, but not parsecs.” He quieted for a moment to watch as the AAnn warship slipped into orbit around Alaspin.
“There is nothing on Alaspin capable of resisting a regular warship. So the AAnn will not make trouble. On the contrary, they will probably claim to be experiencing trouble of their own and request assistance. Mutual aid for emergencies involving deep-space ships is thoroughly covered by the treaties.”
“What happens,” September wanted to know, “when a Commonwealth peaceforcer shows up and detects no sign of damage on board?”
Tse-Mallory smiled softly. “Mr. September, the AAnn will not linger about Alaspin. They will satisfy themselves that what they have come for, meaning Ab, is no longer on the planet. Then they will depart rapidly. No doubt they are tracking us at this very moment.” Hasboga stifled a gasp. “But while they may know about this ship, through Qwarm informants, they cannot be sure Ab is aboard. They must check Alaspin first. By the time they know for certain, we will be a long way elsewhere.”
“Protests will be lodged over the unauthorized orbit,” Truzenzuzex declared. “Word will reach Terra and Hivehom. There will be accusations, denials, apologies, concluded with promises not to do it again. We have done the same thing within the Empire. So long as nonstrategic worlds like Alaspin are involved and nobody gets killed, there’s not much the offended side can do short of starting an interstellar war. The AAnn know they’re not strong enough for that, and the Commonwealth is too conciliatory for it. So . . . nothing will happen.”
“It might as far as we’re concerned.” Flinx looked significantly at the philosoph, who nodded slowly in response.
“True, Flinx. The presence of this ship means that the reptiles have lost patience with the Qwarm.” He permitted himself a small sighing sound of satisfaction. “That is not surprising, considering how ineffective the assassin’s clan has been. They could hardly know who has been interfering with them.”
Tse-Mallory chuckled at that remark.
Truzenzuzex turned a somber gaze on Flinx. “This does not mean, however, that the Qwarm are finished with you. So long as they continue to believe you are responsible for their difficulties, they will continue to try to kill you.”
September ventured a summation, “So we’re running from both the reptiles and the Qwarm.”
“And the Commonwealth and Church as well,” Tse-Mallory added.
Flinx looked uncertain. “Why them, too?”
“Remember, Flinx,” the former Chancellor Second admonished him, “those organizations believe Ab is nothing more than a wild wish in the minds of two senile renegades.”
Now it was Truzenzuzex’s turn to laugh, a rapid clicking of all four mandibles.
“The Qwarm are trouble enough, but I would rather deal with them than with minor bureaucrats. If we are detained officially, I wouldn’t be surprised to see some minor functionary turn Ab over to them to keep the Empire pacified.”
“Slow down, just a minute.” Comprehension was beginning to dawn on Hasboga’s dark features. “If we’re going to avoid Commonwealth officials, how are you going to set Skua and me down anywhere where we can raise financing?”
“We’ll put you down on Burley, or on Terra, or wherever you wish,” Tse-Mallory assured her, “as soon as we have completed our little experiment.”
“If you think I’m going to run off into the Blight and heaven knows where else with you in pursuit of some crazy theory, while the Qwarm and the AAnn try to kill you, you’re out of your minds!” Her fury was exceeded only by her incredulity.
There was a brief moment of disorientation. A slight shudder passed through the Teacher indicating that they had just exceeded light-speed. Pulled by the KK field, the ship continued to accelerate.
When no one said anything, Hasboga walked over to stand next to Tse-Mallory. Eyes flashing, she shouted up at him, “I demand you put us down on the nearest developed Federation world!”
The scientist sounded contrite. “Sorry, can’t do that. We have no time to waste. The mere presence of the AAnn destroyer within the Commonwealth indicates that they are growing desperate. We can’t risk delays or detours. I think they cannot follow us, but the AAnn are efficient. They may be able to pursue us based on the particulate matter produced by this ship’s KK
generator. We cannot afford to linger. Several billion lives are at stake.”
Fuming, she turned away from him. “Oh, come on! You’ve as much as said yourself that the Hur’rikku device is half myth. You can’t really expect to find anything.”
Tse-Mallory’s eyes could not mask what he felt toward her at that moment. “Those whose death seems certain will climb a rope made of one straw, if such a rope can be provided. We are searching for that straw. Isili Hasboga, no one’s personal desires are going to obstruct this search until it is concluded.”
Hasboga looked ready to argue further, but Flinx interceded. “Please, Isili,” he pleaded with her, “bear with them. Truzenzuzex and Bran Tse-Mallory are good humanx. If they didn’t have a good reason for what they’re doing I would never have agreed to provide them with a ship.”
“Easy to say,” she snapped angrily, “when your own life is at stake anyway!”
So ferocious was her reaction that Pip started, and stared threateningly at the source of the angry emanations being directed at his master. Flinx calmed the minidrag. The flying snake settled back on his shoulder, but kept a watchful cold eye on the woman.
Flinx spoke softly but firmly. “If that’s the case, why didn’t I leave Ab behind to be killed by the AAnn? True, it might not take the Qwarm off my back, but the AAnn would no longer have an interest in me. So maybe I have a little more than just self-preservation at stake, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’m sorry.” She looked away. “It’s just . . . I’ve just had several years’ work ruined, first by Otoid arrows, now by finding myself involved in something I couldn’t care less about.”
Unable to argue further with Flinx, she turned her fury on September. “What about you, stupid? You worked nearly as hard on the excavating as I did. Now it’s behind us and we’re broke. Broke! Don’t you understand?”
He gazed down at her gently. “A stranger to impecuniosity I am not, silly bog. Me, I’m just a little ole hydrogen atom drifting in the galactic wind. Actually, I find the direction of our present drift kind of intriguing. Probably not profitable, but sometimes it’s nice to enrich something besides one’s pocket.” Turning, he took a chair near the rear of the chamber. “Besides, I’ve been on Collangatta. Not Carmague, though I could always see it, hanging green-and-white in the sky overhead, and not Twosky Bright, but I’ve been to Collangatta. I liked the Collas. They’re a friendly open sort. They know how to enjoy life. They made me feel welcome, something that doesn’t always happen to me on a newly visited world. They made me feel at home.