The groundcar whined smoothly, well tuned as it was, as it climbed a sloping path covered with a low growth resembling heather. Flinx leaned back and stared through the transparent roof. Just beyond the mine buildings, the mountain became nearly vertical, soaring another 2,500 meters above the lake.
At the moment neither the incredible scenery, nor their present dim prospects, nor Sylzenzuzex's occasional whistling moans of pain held his attention. Instead, his mind was on that stolen tape which might contain the early part of his life. And in his mind, the tape was still inextricably linked with Conda Challis, who would run from him no longer.
Flinx had already seen the sumptuous living quarters/office occupied by Teleen auz Rudenuaman. No doubt Challis possessed a similar if less extensive chamber somewhere in the complex behind them ... probably in the very same building. Eventually Challis' rooms would be cleaned out, his effects disposed of so that the space could be put to new uses. But for now it was doubtless sealed and undisturbed—including that tape, so tantalizingly near.
If this unpredictable young woman could be persuaded to keep them alive awhile yet, he might still have the chance to see what was on that stolen spool. Though if she knew how desperately he wanted it, she might just slowly unwind it in a dish of acid before his eyes.
It was a measure of her megalomania, or confidence, that she had ordered Challis killed. Someone would have to go to considerable lengths to cover up his disappearance—not that his company subordinates would object. Rudemiaman's agents should have no trouble locating several survivors who would be eager to take over the reins of power unquestioningly. Besides, Challis' private activities were of such a nature as to discourage close investigation. A man engaged in such distasteful hobbies could come to any number of sudden, unexpected ends.
Flinx wondered if the merchant's mind were still functional enough for him to regret the simple manner of his passing. No doubt he had conceived an eventual demise of grandiose depravity for himself.
The groundcar came to a halt level with the lowest part of the sheer-sided, gleaming metal buildings. These were constructed on a more or less flat area that had been gouged in the flank of the mountain. Suspended at a higher elevation, a series of square metal arches punctured the rock walls like silvery hypodermics sucking blood from a whale. From within the structure, clear mountain air carried to the arrivals the steady ca-rank, ca-rank of tireless machinery.
A guard who may or may not have been as human as he looked saluted casually as they entered the structure. "The exterior building we are now in," Rudenuaman was explaining, "houses all our milling and processing facilities." She waved constantly as they made their way through the building. "This installation has cost an incredible amount of credit ... a tiny drop when compared to the profit which we will eventually realize."
"I still don't see why the AAnn need you so badly," Flinx told her, his eyes taking in everything on the principle that knowledge is freedom. "Particularly since they're the ones responsible for negating the peace- forcer fortresses."
"I thought I'd already made that clear," she said. "First, the Commonwealth is a far larger market for the gems than the Empire. They have no way to market their share except through a human agent ... me. But more important, as the Baron explained, this world lies within Commonwealth boundaries. Though comparatively isolated, there are a number of other busy, inhabited Commonwealth planets plus numerous automatic monitoring stations between here and the nearest populated Empire world. AAnn technicians require safe conduct, which Rudenuaman company ships provide."
Flinx, thinking suddenly of the Baron's pursuit of Mahnahmi, asked, "Then there are no Imperial military vessels in this region?"
Rudennaman looked surprised at Flinx's naivete. "Do you take the Baron for a fool? It would only take the discovery of one such ship and this quadrant of space would be swarming with Commonwealth warships. The Baron," she informed them smugly, "is far more subtle than the AAnn are normally given credit for."
So subtle, Flins thought with mixed feelings, that he might have outfoxed himself. If he were chasing Mahnahmi in a freighter instead of in a destroyer or frigate, she might elude him after all. Not that be was certain he wanted that precocious talent to escape; but at least a merry chase might prolong the Baron's absence from Ulru-Ujurr for some time.
They had to resolve the situation before that happened and the Baron returned. Novelty value or no, Flinx did not think the AAnn aristocrat would tolerate his and Sylzenzuzex's continued existence. If it came to a confrontation between Flinx and Rudenuaman, she would have him and Sylzenzuzex executed without a thought in order to keep her associate placated,
Though Rudenuaman might be swayed by flattery and amusement, Flinx had no illusions about his ability to so manipulate the Baron, "Teleen," he began absently, "have yon ever ..."
She turned angrily on him, voice chill and expression dark. "Don't ever call me that or you'll die a lot quicker than otherwise. You will address me as Madam or Madam Rudenuaman, or the next way you will amuse me is with your noise as I have the skin stripped from your back."
"Sorry ... Madam," he apologized carefully. "You still insist that the AAim's only interest in the Janus jewels is financial?" He was aware of Sylzenzuzex watching him,
"You continue to bring that up.Yes, of course I do."
"Tell me—have you ever seen an AAnn, the Baron, for example, utilize a headset linkage to create particle- plays within one of the crystals?"
"No." She didn't appear to be disturbed by the thought. "This is a mining outpost. There are no hedonists or idlers here."
"Do you have a headset link here?"
"Yes."
"And Challis ... I presume he did, also? Colloid plays seemed to have been one of his favorite obsessions."
"Yes, though not the only one," she said, her mouth wrinkling in distaste.
"What about the Baron? Surely he enjoys the gems?"
"Baron Riidi WW," she announced with confidence, "is all business- and military-minded. I have on occasion seen him relaxing at various AAnn recreations, but never with a Janus jewel."
"What about the other AAnn of importance and rank here?"
"No, they're all fully absorbed in their assignments. Why so curious to know if I've ever seen one of the reptiles using a gem?"
"Because," Flinx said thoughtfully, "I don't think they can. I don't know what the Baron does with the jewels which are consigned for supposed sale within the Empire, but I'm certain they're not provided for the amusement of wealthy AAnn. Possibly for bribery purposes within the Commonwealth—1 haven't worked that out yet.
"The AAnn mind is different from that of human or thranx.," he went on. "Not necessarily inferior—probably superior in some ways—but different. I've read a little about it, and I don't believe that their brains produce the proper impulses for operating a Janus jewel linkage. They could scramble the colloidal suspension, but never organize it into anything recognizable,"
"Really," Rudenuaman murmured at the conclusion of his little lecture. "What makes you an expert on such matters?"
" 1 have big ears," Flinx replied. Better she continued to consider him a wild guesser than a calculating thinker.
"All right, suppose they can't operate the jewels the way we can." She shrugged indifferently. "The beauty of the gem is still unsurpassed."
"That's so," he conceded, "but to the point of justifying this kind of risky invasion of Commonwealth territory? I'm damned if I think the AAnn love beauty that much. Somehow those jewels are being used against the Commonwealth, against humanxkind."
Rudenuaman didn't reply, choosing to ignore what she couldn't refute. They had walked deep into the higher levels of the building. A tall AAnn approached them, his surgical disguise perfect—except now Flinx knew what it concealed and was able to recognize the reptilian beneath.
"That's Meevo FFGW," Rudenuaman informed them, confirming Flinx's guess. "He is the AAnn second in command and the Baron's assistant. He's also an excellent engineer, in charge of the overall mining operation here." She glared confidently at Flinx. "I've thought a little about your accusations, and you know what I've decided?" She smiled. "I don't give a goddamn what the AAnn do to the Commonwealth with their share of the jewels, as long as it doesn't interfere with my business."
"That's about what I thought you might say." Sylzenzuzex's voice carried contempt in a way only the sharply clipped tones of a thranx can. Flinx thought it idiotic to antagonize their mercurial host, but she appeared unperturbed. If anything, she was pleased to see one of her captives so upset.
"Isn't it nice to have one's thoughts confirmed?" She faced the newcomer. "Greetings, Meevo."
Flinx used the opportunity to study the reptilian's makeup in detail. Were a Rudenuaman ship to be stopped by Commonwealth inspectors, he doubted that any casual observer could penetrate the carefully crafted disguise,
If one knew to look closely, though, the eyes were a dead giveaway. For Meevo FFGW, like the Baron, like all AAnn, had a double eyelid. A blink would reveal the mind behind such eyes as not human.
"These are the ones who succeeded in passing the adjusted fortresses?" the AAnn lieutenant asked, glancing from Sylzenzuzex to Flinx.
"Just the two of them, yes," Rudenuaman told him. Meevo appeared amiably curious. "Then why are they still alive?"
Sylzenzuzex shivered again, this time at the utterly inhumanx indifference in that voice.
"They keep me amused for now. And when the Baron returns he may have some questions of his own for them. The Baron's a more efficient interrogator than I. I tend to be impatient."
A low reptilian chuckle came from the engineer. "I heard about the child. Most unfortunate, irritating. There is no need to worry, though. The Baron will finish her before she can contact outsiders. His efficiency extends to other areas besides questioning." He grinned, showing false human teeth set into an elongated false human jaw. At the back of the open mouth Flinx could just make out the gleam of real, far sharper teeth.
"You find them amusing ... curious." the engineer concluded, with a gesture Flinx was unable to interpret. His attitude suggested that casual amusement was as alien to him as bearing living young.
Curiosity, however, was a trait the AAnn did share with their enemies. Meevo tagged along as Rudenuaman led them through the remainder of the complex.
"The milling and separation you saw downstairs. Polishing and removal of surface impurities takes place over there." She indicated a series of doorless chambers from which musical sounds emerged.
"Are they all AArm here except you and your bodyguard?" Sylzenzuzex wondered sardonically.
"Oh, no. We're about half and half here. There are a surprising number of talented humanx in our loving society for whom the everyday problems of living have proven too much. They've been driven by insensitive authority to seek marginally reputable work. Existence overrides any qualms they hold about such intangibles as interspecies loyalty,"
"I'll venture none of them ever gets off this world alive."
Rudenuaman appeared genuinely surprised. "Ridiculous woman ... that would be bad for business. Oh, I don't mean we inspire their loyalty. For most of those who work here that term no longer has meaning, or they wouldn't be here in the first place. Any of them would gladly sell their knowledge of this illegal installation the moment they were discharged.
"We employ, with their knowledge and consent, a selective mind-wipe which cleats their brains of all memories of their stay here. It leaves them with the vaguely uncomfortable feeling that they've undergone a long period of unconsciousness. That and their newly fat bank accounts insure they will not give away our presence here."
"Mind-wipe," a stunned Sylzenznzex muttered, "is forbidden for use by anyone other than Commonwealth or Church high physicians, and then only in emergency circumstances!"
Rudenuaman grinned. "You must remember to add that to your report."
They entered a large chamber, and the temperature dropped noticeably. "We'll be going into the main shaft," she explained, indicating long racks of bulky overclothing hanging nearby. Sylzenzezex saw that a number of them were designed for thranx.
"Did you think that your precious cousins were immune to the lure of credit?" Rudenuaman taunted her. "No species has a comer on greed, child."
"Don't call me a child," Sylzenzuzex countered softly.
Radenuaman's response was not what Flinx expected—the first real laugh they had heard from her. She leaned on her cane, chuckling. Curious workers turned to glance at them as they passed.
"I’ll call you dead, if you prefer," the merchantwoman finally declared. She pointed toward the long racks of overclothing, "Now put one of those on— it's quite cold inside the mountain,"
After donning the protective outer garments, they followed her and the AAnn engineer down a wide rectangular avenue. Metal soon gave way to bare rock. Evenly spaced single span duralloy arches helped support the roof.
Flinx's thermal suit was partly open, permitting a small reptilian head to peep out from within, eyes on blinking as it surveyed the chill surroundings. Double rows of brightly glowing light tubes cast a steady radiance) throughout the tunnel.
"This section has already been played out," Rudenuaman explained. "The jewels lie in a vein running horizontally into the mountain."
They slowed.
"There are several additional subsidiary shafts, running the length of lesser veins. Some run slightly above, others below our present position. I'm told that the gems formed in occasional pockets in the volcanic rock which were once filled with gas. An unusual combination of pressure and heat produced the Janus jewels.
"The gemstones themselves lie in a different sort of material from the mountain, like diamonds in the kimberlite of Terra and the Bronine rainbow craters which are mined on Evoria. That's what my engineers tell me, anyhow."
Ignoring her possessive reference to him, Meevo made a curt gesture of acknowledgment. "It is so. Similar examples of isolated gem formation lie within the Empire, though nothing so unusual as this."
Something tickled Flinx's brain, and he found himself staring down into the dim recesses of the shaft. "Someone's coming toward us," he announced finally.
Rudenuaman turned to look, commented idly, "Just a few of the natives. They're primitive types, but intelligent enough to make good menial workers. They have no tools, no civilization, and no language beyond a few grunts and imitated human words. They don't even wear minimal clothing. Their sole claim to rudimentary intelligence appears to be in the simple modifications they make in their cave-homes—rolling boulders in front to make a smaller entrance, digging deeper into the hillside, and so on. They do the heavy manual work for us, and they're careful with the jewels they uncover."
"We've simplified the drilling equipment for their use. Their fur is thick enough so that the cold inside the mountain doesn't seem to bother them, which is fortunate for us. Even with thermal suits it would be hard for humans and impossible for AAnn to work the gem deposits anymore, considering how deep the shaft now runs into the mountain. If they mind the cold, they seem willing to risk it for the rewards we give them in return for each stone."
"What do you reward them with?" Flinx wondered curiously. The bulky shapes were still coming slowly toward them. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and Pip stirred violently within the folds of the warm suit.
"Berries," Meevo snapped in disgust. "Berries and fruits, nuts and tubers. Root eaters!" he finished, with the disdain characteristic of all carnivores.
"They're vegetarians, then?"
"Not entirely," Rudenuaman corrected, "They're apparently quite able to digest meat, and they have the teeth and claws necessary for hunting, but they much prefer the fruits and berries our automatic harvester can gather for them."
"Dirt grubbers," the AAnn engineer muttered. He glanced at Rudennaman. "Excuse me from your play, but I have work to do." He turned and lumbered back up the shaft.
By this time the four natives had come near enough for Flinx to discern individual characteristics. Each was larger than a big man and two or three times as broad— almost fat. How much of that bulk was composed of incredibly dense brown fur marked with black and white splotches he couldn't tell. In build and general appearance they were essentially ursinoid, though sporting a flat muzzle instead of a snout. It ended in a nearly in- visible black nose that was almost comical on so massive a creature.
Short thick claws tipped the end of each of four seven-digited members, and the creatures appeared capable of moving on all fours or standing upright with equal ease. There was no tail. Ears were short, rounded, and set on top of the head. By far the most distinctive features were the tarsier-like eyes, large as plates, which glowed amber in the tunnel's fluorescent light. Huge black pupils like obsidian yolks floated in their centers.
"Nocturnal from the look of them, diurnal at the least," was Sylzenzuzex's intrigued comment.
The natives noticed the new arrivals, and all rose onto their hind legs for a better look. When they stood upright they seemed to fill the whole tunnel. Flinx noted a slight curve at the back of their mouths, which formed a falsely comic, dolphinish grin on each massive face.
He was about to ask another, question of Rudenuaman when something stirred violently within his suit top. Flinx's frantic grab was too late to restrain Pip. The flying snake was out and streaking down the shaft toward the natives.
"Pip ... wait, there's no ...!"
He had started to say there was no reason to attack the furry giants. Nothing fearful or threatening had scratched his sensitive mind. If the minidrag were to set the group of huge natives on a rampage, it was doubtful any of them would get out of this tunnel alive.
Ignoring his master's call. Pip reached the nearest of the creatures. On its hind legs, the enormous animal was nearly three meters tall and must have weighed at least half a ton. Great glowing eyes regarded the tiny apparition, whose venom was nearly always fatal.
Pip dove straight for the head. At the last second pleated wings beat the air as the minidrag braked—to land and curl lightly about the creature's shoulder. The monster eyed the minidrag dispassionately, then turned its dull gaze on Flinx, who gaped back at the giant in shock.
For the second time in his life, Flinx fainted. ...
The dream was new and very deep. He was floating in the middle of an endless black lake beneath an oppressively near night sky. So dark was it that he could see nothing, not even his own body ...which might not have been there.
Against the ebony heavens four bright lights drifted. Tiny, dancing pinpoints of unwinking gold moved in unpredictable yet calculated patterns, like fireflies. They danced and jigged, darted and twitched not far from the eyes he didn't have, yet he saw them plainly.
Sometimes they danced about each other, and once all four of them performed some intricate weaving in and out, as complex and meaningful as it was quickly forgotten.
"He's back now," the first firefly observed.
"Yes, he's back," two of the others agreed simultaneously.
Flinx noted with interest that the last of the four fireflies was not the steady, unwavering light he had first thought. Unlike the others, it winked on and off erratically, like a lamp running on fluctuating current. When it winked off it disappeared completely, and when it was on it blazed brighter than any of the others. "Did we frighten yon?" the winter wondered.
A disembodied voice strangely like his own replied. "I saw Pip ..." the dream-voice started to say.
"I'm sorry we shouted at yon," the first firefly apologized,
"Sorry we shouted," the other two chorused. "We didn't mean to hurt you. We didn't mean to frighten you."
"I saw Pip," Flinx mused, "settle around one of the native's shoulders. I've never ever seen Pip do that to a stranger before. Not to Mother Mastiff, not to Truzenzilzex, not to anyone."
"Pip?" the third voice inquired.
"Oh," the second firefly explained, "he means the little hard mind."
"Hard but tasty," agreed the first one, "like a chunut."
"You thought the little hard mind meant to hurt us?" first voice asked.
"Yes, but instead he responded to yon with an openness I've never seen before. So you must also broadcast on the empathic level, only your thoughts are friendly thoughts."
"If you say we must," third firefly elucidated, "then we must."
"But only when we must," fourth voice said sternly, blazing brighter than the other three before vanishing.
"Why does the fourth among you come and go like a fog?" Flinx's dream-voice murmured.
"Fourth? Oh," first voice explained, "that's Maybeso. That's his name—for this weektime, anyway. I am called Fluff." Flinx got the impression the other two lights brightened slightly. "These are Moam and Bluebright." The fourth light blazed momentarily.
"They're mates," it said, and then winked out once more.
"Gone again," Flinx observed with disembodied detachment.
"That's Mayheso, remember?" reminded Fluff-voice. "Sometimes he's not here. The rest of us are always here. We don't change our names, either, but Maybeso comes and goes and changes his name every weektime or so,"
"Where does Maybeso go when he goes?"
Bluebright replied openly, "We don't know."
"Where does he come from when he comes back, then?"
"Nobody knows," Moam told him.
"Why does he change his name from weektime to weektime?"
"Ask him," Moam and Bluebright suggested together.
Maybeso came back, his light brighter than any of theirs.
"Why do you change your name from weektime to weektime, and where do you go when you go, and where do you come from when you come back?" Flinx-voice wondered,
"Oh, there's no doubt about it," Maybeso told him in a dream-singsong, and winked away again.
Fluff spoke in a confidential dream-whisper: "Maybeso, we think, is a little mad. But he's a good fellow all the same."
Flinx noted absently that he was beginning to sink beneath the surface of the black lake. Above him the four lights swirled and dipped curiously.
"You're the first who's talked to us," Fluff-voice murmured,
"Come and talk to us more," Moam requested with pleasure. "It's fun to have someone to talk to. The little hard one listens but cannot talk. This is a fun new thing!"
Flinx's dream-voice bubbled up through the deepening oily liquid. "Where should I come and talk to you?"
"At the end of the long water," Moam told Him.
"At the end of the long water," confirmed Bluebright.
"At the far end of the long water," added Fluff, who was rather more precise than the others.
"No doubt about it," agreed Maybeso, winking on for barely a second.
About it, about it ... the words were subsumed in gentle rippling currents produced by Flinx's slowly sinking body. Sinking, sinking, until he touched the bottom of the lake. His legs touched first, then his hips, then back, and finally his head.
There was something peculiar about this place, he thought. The sky had been blacker than the water, and the water grew lighter instead of darker as he sank. At the bottom it was so bright it hurt his eyes.
He opened them.
A glistening, almost metallic blue-green face dominated by two faceted gems was staring down at him with concern. Inhaling, he smelled cocoanut oil and orchids. Something tickled his left ear.
Looking for the source, he discovered Pip's small reptilian face lying on his chest. A long pointed tongue darted out and hit him several times on the cheek. Apparently satisfied as to his master's condition, the minidrag relaxed and slid off the pillow to coil itself comfortably nearby.
Pillow?
Taking a deep breath, Flinx smiled up at Sylzenzuzex. She backed away and he saw that they were in a small, neatly furnished room. Sunlight poured in through high windows.
"How are you feeling?" she inquired in the sharp clicks and whistles of symbospeech. He nodded and watched her slump gratefully onto a thranx sleeping- sitting platform across the room.
"Thank the Hive. I thought yon were dead."
Flinx rested his head on a supporting hand. "I didn't think that mattered much to you."
"Oh, shut up!" she snapped with unexpected vehemence. He detected confusion and frustration in her voice as feelings and fact vied within her. "There have been plenty of times when I would have cheerfully cut your throat, if I hadn't been under oath to protect it. Then there have been an equal number of other occasions when I almost wished you didn't wear your skeleton outside in.
"Like the time back on Terra when you saved my life, and the way you've stood up to that barbaric young female." Flinx saw her antennae flicking nervously, the graceful curve of her ovipositors tightening uncertainly. "You are the most maddening being I have ever met, Flinx-man!"
He sat up carefully, found that everything worked inside as well as out. "What happened?" he asked, confused. "No, wait ... I do remember blacking out, but not why. Did something hit me?"
"Nobody laid a parcel hook on you. You collapsed when your pet charged one of the native workers. Fortunately, that maneuver seems to have been just a bluff. The native didn't know enough to be frightened." Her expression turned puzzled. "But why should that make you faint?"
" I don't know," he answered evasively. "Probably the shock of visualizing the rest of the natives rending us into pieces after Pip killed one of their number. When he didn't, the shock was magnified because Pip just doesn't take to strangers that way." Flinx forced himself to appear indifferent. "So Pip likes natural fur better than a thermal suit, and he snuggled down in one of the natives. That's probably what happened."
"What does that prove?" Sylzenzuzex wondered.
"That I faint too easily." Swinging his legs off the bed, he gave her a grim look. "At least now we know why this world's Under Edict."
"Shhh!" She nearly fell off her sleeping platform. "Why ... no, wait," she admonished him. Several minutes passed during which she made a thorough in- spection of the room, checking places Flinx would never have thought to inspect,
"It's clean," she finally announced with satisfaction. "I expect they don't think we have anything to say that's worth listening to."
"You're certain?" Flinx asked, abashed. "I never thought of that."
Sylzenzuzex looked offended. "I told you I was training in Security. No, there is nothing in here to listen to you save me."
"Okay, the reason this world has been placed Under Edict by the Church met us in the tunnel today. It's the natives ... Rudenuaman's grunting, goblin- eyed manual laborers. They're the reason."
She continued to stare at him for another minute, considered laughing, thought better of it when she saw how serious he was.
"Impossible," she muttered finally. "You have experienced a delusion of some sort. Surely the natives are nothing more than they appear to be-—big, amiable, and dumb. They have not yet developed enough for the Church to isolate this world."
"On the contrary," he objected, "they're a great deal more than they appear to be."
She looked querulous. "If that's true, then why do they perform heavy manual labor for long hours in freezing temperatures in exchange for a few miserable nuts and berries?"
Flinx's voice dropped disconsolately. "I don't know that yet." He glanced up. "But I know this—they're natural telepaths."
"A delusion," she repeated firmly, "a hallucination you experienced."
"No." His voice was firm, confident. "I have a few slight talents of my own. I know the difference between a hallucination and mind-to-mind communication."
"Have it your way," Sylzenzuzex declared, sighing. "For the sake of discussion let us temporarily assume it was not an illusion. That is still no reason for the Church to place a world Under Edict. A whole race of telepaths is only theory, but it would not be enough to exclude them from associate membership in the Commonwealth."
"It's not just that," Flinx explained earnestly. "They're ... well, more intelligent than they appear."
"I doubt that," she snorted, "but even a race of intelligent telepaths would not be considered such a threat."
"Much more intelligent."
"I won't believe that until I see evidence to prove it," she objected. "If they represented any kind of serious threat to the Commonwealth ..."
"Why else would the Church put this world Under Edict?"
"Flinx, they have no tools, no clothing, no spoken language—no civilization. They run around grubbing for roots and fruits, living in caves. If they're potentially as clever as you claim, why do they persist in dwelling in poverty?"
"That," admitted Flinx, "is a very good question,"
"Do you have a very good answer?"
"I do not. But I'm convinced I've found the reason for the Church's actions. What is the effect of putting a race Under Edict?"
"No contact with outside parties, space-going peoples," she recited. "Severest penalties for any infraction of the Edict. The race is free to develop in its own way."
"Or free to stagnate," Flinx muttered. "The Commonwealth and the Church have aided plenty of primitive peoples, Why not the Ujurrians?"
"You set yourself up as arbiter of high Church policy," she murmured, drawing away from him again.
"Not me!" he half shouted, slamming both hands noisily against the bedcovers. His hands moved rapidly as he talked. "It's the Church Council that sets itself up as the manipulator of racial destinies. And if not the Church, then the Commonwealth government does, And if not the Commonwealth, then the great corporations and family companies. Then there is the AAnn Empire which sets itself above everything." He was pacing angrily alongside the bed.
"My God, but I'm sick to death of organizations that think they have the right to rule on how others ought to develop!"
"What would yon have in its place?" she challenged him. "Anarchy?"
Flinx sat down heavily on the bed again, his head sinking between his hands. He was tired, tired, and much too young. "How should I know? I only know that I'm getting damned sick of what passes for intelligence in this corner of creation."
"I can't believe you're so innocent," she said, more gently now. "What else do you expect from mere mammals and insects? The Amalgamation was just the beginning of your race's and mine's emergence from long dark age. The Commonwealth and the United Church are only a few of your centuries old. What do you expect of it so soon—Nirvana? Utopia?" She shook her head, a gesture the thranx had acquired from man- kind.
"Not for me or you to set ourselves up above the Church, which helped bring us out of those dark times."
"The Church, the Church, your almighty Church!" he shouted. "Why do you defend it so? You think it's composed of saints?"
"I never claimed it was perfect," she responded, showing some heat herself. "The Counselors them- selves would be the last to claim so. That's one of its virtues. Naturally it's not perfect—it would never claim to be."
"That's what Tse-Mallory once said to me," he murmured reflectively.
"What ... who?"
"Someone I know who also left the Church, for reasons of his own."
"Tse-Mallory, that name again," she replied thoughtfully. "He was that stingship mate of my uncle's you mentioned before. Bran Tse-Mallory?"
"Yes."
"They talk of him as well as of Truzenzuzex at the Clan meetings." She snapped herself back to the present—no use thinking wistfully about things she would probably never be able to experience again.
"Now that you've decided the universe is not perfect and that the instrumentalities of intelligence are somewhat less than all-knowing, what do you propose we do about it?"
"Have a talk with our friends-to-be, the Ujurrians."
"And what are they going to do?" she smirked. "Throw rocks at the Baron's shuttles when he returns? Or at the beamers that are surely stocked in plenty here?"
"Possibly," Flinx conceded. "But even if they can do nothing, I think we'll have a far better chance of surviving among them than there, than waiting for Rudenuaman to get tired of having ns around. When that happens she'll dispose of us as casually as she would an old dress." He let his mind wander, saw no reason to hide himself from Sylzenzuzex anymore. "There's only one guard outside the door."
"How do you know ... oh, you told me," she answered herself. "How extensive are your talents?"
"I haven't the vaguest notion," he told her honestly. "Sometimes I can't perceive a spider in a room. Other times ..." He felt it better to keep a few secrets. "Just take my word that there's only one guard outside. I guess our docility has convinced Rudenuaman we don't require close watching. As she said, there's nowhere for us to run to."
"I'm not sure I disagree with her," Sylzenzuzex murmured, her gaze going to the chill mountains outside. "Though I must admit that if we do escape, she may leave us alone. We would be no more danger to her in the mountains than we are here."
"I'm hoping she thinks so," he admitted. "The Baron wouldn't agree with her. We have to leave now." Sliding off the bed, he walked to the door and knocked gently. The door slid aside and their guard eyed them carefully—from several paces away, Flinx noted.
He was a tall, thin human with a worn expression and hair turned too white too soon. As near as Fliax could tell, he was not an AAnn in human disguise.
"You interrupted my reading," he informed Flinx sourly, indicating the small tape viewer that rested nearby. This reminded Flinx of another tape he wanted to read himself.. Despite the anxiety surging inside him, he would have to wait until much later, if ever, to see that tape.
"What do you want?" It was clear that this man was well informed about their cooperation thus far. Flinx shouted with his mind, conjuring up a sensation of half-fear.
Pip shot out from under the pillows on the bed and was through the door before the man could put his viewer aside. A beamer came up, but instead of firing the man crossed both hands in front of his face. Flinx jumped through the opening and planted a foot in the other's solar plexus. Only closing lids kept his eyes from popping out of his face.
The guard hit the far wall with a loud whump, sat down, and leaned like a rag doll against the chair leg. This time the minidrag responded to Flinx's call. He settled tensely back on Flinx's shoulder, glaring down at the unconscious guard.
Sylzenzuzex came up hurriedly behind him. "Why didn't he shoot immediately? As a matter of fact ..." She hesitated, and Flinx sensed her mind working.
"That's right. No one here recognized Pip as a dangerous animal. The only one I told was Rudenuaman's bodyguard. In all the rush she must have neglected to inform everyone else. We were trapped 'here without hope of escape, remember? The only others who knew were Challis and Mahnahmi. He's dead, and she's fled."
Flinx gestured behind him. "That's why I called Pip off and knocked him out myself. Everyone's still ignorant of Pip's full capabilities. Sooner or later, Linda will remember to tell her mistress. But by then we should be free. We'd better be—Rudenuaman won't give us a second chance."
"What are we going to do now?"
"No one's seen us except a small corps of armed security personnel and a few people up at the mine. This is a good-sized installation. Act as if yon know what you're doing, and we might walk out of here without being challenged."
"Yon are crazy," she muttered nervously, as they entered the lift. "This may be a large base, but it's still a closed community. Everyone here must know every- one else."
"Yon participate in a bureaucracy and still you don't understand," Flinx observed sadly. "Everyone in a complicated operation like this tends to stick pretty much to his own specialty. Each one interacts with people within that specialty. This is hardly a homogeneous little society here. Unless we encounter one of the guards who met us on landing, we ought to be able to move about freely."
"Until our guard regains consciousness," she reminded him. "Then they'll come looking for us."
"But not beyond the boundary of the base, I’ll bet. Rudenuaman will be more irritated than angry. She'll assume the environment here will take care of us. And it will, if the Ujurrians don't help us."
They entered the lift car, started downward. "What makes you think they will?"
"I got the impression that they're anxious to talk to me. If you have ten marooned thranx speaking only Low Thranx and an eleventh suddenly appears, wouldn't you want to talk to him?"
"Maybe for a while," she conceded. "Of course, after I'd heard everything he had to say I might want to eat him, too."
"I don't think the Ujurrians will do that." The lift reached ground level.
"What makes you so certain? Berries or not, they are omnivorous, remember. Suppose they're simply telepathic morons?"
"If I'm wrong about them, then we'll die a lot cleaner than at Rudenauman's hands. I'm betting on two things—a dream, and the fact that I never before saw Pip fly at any being he didn't intend to attack."
Reaching down, he rubbed the back of Pip's head through the jumpsuit fabric.
"You were right, Syl, when you said he was flying toward greater warmth, but the warmth wasn't in the Ujurrian's fur." The lift door slid aside and they strode boldly out into the deserted hall.
Leaving the structure they started walking between buildings, heading toward the lake. Several people passed them. Flinx didn't recognize any of them, and fortunately none of them recognized the two prisoners. As they neared the outskirts of the base Flinx
slowed, his senses alert for anything like an automatically defended perimeter. Sylzenzuzex searched for concealed alarms. They didn't find so much as a simple fence. Apparently there were no large carnivores in this valley, and the merchantwoman's opinion of the natives they already knew.
Once they reached the concealing trees, they accelerated their pace, moving as fast as Sylzenzuzex's injured leghand would permit. Despite the abnormally long day, the sun was low in the sky before they slowed. When the sun finally moved behind one of the towering snowy peaks, its warmth would dissipate quickly in the mountain air. Sylzenzuzex would be affected first, and most severely; but Flinx didn't doubt that he'd also be dangerously exposed in his thin jumpsuit.
He hoped their furry hosts could do something about that. If no one was waiting for them at the far end of the lake—the "long water" of his dream—he was going to be very embarrassed. And very sorry.
At its lower end the lake narrowed to a small outlet, then tumbled with the bright humor of all mountain streams down a gentle slope, dancing and falling with fluid choreography over rocks and broken logs and branches. Despite the density of the forest overhead, the thick heatherlike ground cover was lush here.
Flinx picked out small flowering plants with odd needlelike leaves and multiple centers. Minute furred creatures dug and twisted and scurried through this lowlevel jungle.
Sylzeiiziizex sniffed disdainfully, her spicules whistling, as they watched a tiny thing with ten furry legs and miniature hooves dart down a hole in the far bank of the stream.
"Primitive world," she commented. "No insects." She was shivering already. "That's not surprising. This world is too cold for them—and me."
Flinx began hunting through the trees and was rubbing his hands together. Occasionally he would reach into his jumpsuit to fondle Pip. The minidrag also came from a hothouse world. It had grown still in an instinctive effort to conserve energy and body heat.
"I'm not exactly at home here either, you know," Flinx told her. Glancing worriedly upward, he saw that the sun had been half swallowed by a mountain with a backbone like a crippled dinosaur.
"We can freeze to death out here tonight, or go back and take our chances with that female," Sylzenzuzex stammered. "A wonderful choice you've given us."
"I don't understand," he muttered puzzledly. "I was so certain. The voices were so clear."
"Everything is clear in a dream," she philosophized. "It's the real world that never makes sense, that's fuzzy at the fringes. I'm still not sure that you're not a little fuzzy at the fringes, Flinx."
"Ho, ho," a voice boomed like a hammer hitting the bottom of a big metal pot. It was. a real voice, not a telepathic whisper.
"Joke, I like jokes!"
Flinx's heart settled back to its normal beat as he and Sylzenzuzex whirled, to see an enormous wide shape waddle out from between two trees. There was little to distinguish one native from another physically.
Flinx, however, now knew to hunt for something less obvious. It blinked brightly out at him, a strong, concentrated mental glow—like a firefly, he reminded himself.
"Hello, Fluff. Yon have a sense of humor, but don't, please, sneak up on us like that again."
"Sense of humor," the giant echoed. "That mean I like to make jokes?" On hind legs he towered above them. "Yes. What is better than making jokes? Except maybe building caves and eating and sleeping and making love."
Flinx noticed that the broadly grinning month was moving.
"You're talking," Sylzenzuzex observed simultaneously. She turned to Flinx. "I thought you said they were telepathic?"
"Can do mind-talk too," something said inside her head, making her jump.
"So that's telepathy," she murmured at the new experience. "It's kind of unnerving."
"Why trouble with talking?" Flinx wondered.
"Is less efficient, but more fun," Fluff husked.
"Lots more fun," two voices mimicked. Moam and Bluebright appeared, shuffling toward the stream. Lowering to all fours, they began lapping the water.
"Why don't you talk like this to the people at the base?"
"Base? Big metal caves?"
Flinx nodded, was rewarded with a mental shrug.
"No one ask us to talk much. We see inside them that they like us to talk like this," and he proceeded to produce a few grunted words and snorted phrases.
"It make them happy. We want everyone to be happy. So we talk like that."
"I'm not sure I understand," Flinx admitted, sitting down on a rock and shivering. A monstrous shape materialized at his shoulder, and Sylzenzuzex jumped half a meter into the air.
"No doubt about it," thundered Maybeso. One paw cuddled two wrinkled objects while the other held a large plastic case. Flinx felt a warm thought flow over him like a bucket of hot water and then Maybeso was gone.
"What was that?" a gaping Sylzenzuzex wanted to know.
"Maybeso," Flinx told her absently, examining what the mercurial Ujurrian had brought. "Thermal suits— one for you and one for me,"
After climbing into the self-contained heated over- clothing they spent a few luxurious moments defrosting before they began their inspection of the big case's contents,
"Food," Sylzenzuzex noted. "Two beamers ..."
Flinx reached into the depths of the container, aware he was trembling. "And this ... even this." He withdrew his hand, holding a small, slightly battered spool.
"How?" he asked Fluff, awed. "How did he know?" Fluff's smile was genuine and went beyond the one frozen into his features.
"Maybeso plays his own games. Everything is a game to Maybeso, and he's very good at games. Better than any of the family. In some ways he's just like an overgrown cub."
"Cub," agreed Moam, "but a big light."
"Very big light," Bluebright agreed, raising his head and licking water from his muzzle with a long tongue.
"It's fun to have someone who can talk back," Fluff observed playfully. Then Flinx had the impression of a hurt frown. "Others came bat did not land. Maybeso saw them and says they did some strange things with constructs—with instruments like those at the metal caves. They got very excited, then went away."
"The Church exploration party," Flinx commented unnecessarily.
"We didn't understand why they went away," a troubled Fluff said. "We wished they would have come down and talked. We were sad and wanted to help them, because they were frightened of something." Again the mental shrug, "Though we could have been wrong."
"I don't think you're wrong, Fluff. Something frightened them, all right."
Sylzenzuzex paid no attention to him. She was staring at Fluff, her mandibles hanging limp. Flinx turned to her, asked, "Now do you understand why this world was put Under Edict?"
"Under Edict," Fluff repeated, savoring the sound of the spoken words. "A general admonition embodying philosophical rationalizations which stem—"
"You're a fast learner. Fluff," gulped Flinx.
"Oh sure," the giant agreed with childish enthusiasm. "Is fun. Let's play a game. You think of a concept or new word and we try to learn it, okay?"
"It wasn't a game to the exploration party which took readings here," Sylzenzuzex announced suddenly. She looked over to Flinx. "I see what you were trying to tell me." To the giant: "They didn't land because ... because they were afraid of you, Fluff."
"Afraid? Why be afraid of me?" He slapped his meters-wide torso with a paw that could have decapitated a man. "We only live, eat, sleep, make love, build caves, and play games ... and make jokes, of course. What to be afraid of?"
"Your potential, Fluff," Flinx explained slowly. "And yours, Moam, and Bluebright, and you too, Maybeso, wherever you are."
"Someplace else," Moam supplied helpfully.
"They saw your potential and ran like hell instead of coming down to help you, Put you Under Edict so no one else would come to help you, either. They hoped to consign you all to ignorance. You have incalculable potential. Fluff, but you don't seem to have much drive. By denying you that the Church saw they could—"
"No!" Sylzenzuzex shouted, agonized. "I can't believe that. The Church wouldn't ..."
"Why not?" snorted Flinx. "Anyone can be afraid of the big kid down the block."
"Is wrong to fear," Fluff observed mournfully, "and sad."
"Right both times," concurred Flinx. Suddenly aware his stomach demanded attention, he dug a large cube of processed meat and cheese from the plastic container, sat down on a rock. After removing the foil sealer, he took a huge bite out of it, then started searching the container for something suitable for Pip.
Sylzenzuzex joined him, but her inspection of the supplies was halfhearted at best. Her mind was a maelstrom of conflicting, confusing, and destructive thoughts. The khowledge of what the Church had certainly done was chattering beliefs she'd held since pupahood. Each time another ideal came crashing down, it sent a painful stab through her.
Flinx had reached a decision. "You wanted to talk, to play a concept and words game?"
"Yes, let's play," Moam snuffled enthusiastically, ambling over.
"Let's talk," agreed Bluebright.
Flinx looked grim, considered what he was about to do, and was gratified to discover that it made him feel more satisfied than any decision he'd made in his entire life.
"You bet we'll talk...."