Flinx Transcendent (8 page)

Kiijeem looked startled. “They know there iss a ssoftsskin in Krrassin?”

Flinx smiled. “No. They're looking for a nye who has made use of illicit exchange.” He indicated his neatly laid-out simsuit. “Not only have I passed illegally among your kind, I've passed illegal funds.”

“Sso that iss what you are doing here, on the property of my family.” Kiijeem's emotions had run the gamut all the way from fear to delight. “You are a fugitive twice over: as a ssoftsskin without portfolio and as a common criminal.”

Flinx shrugged. “Anymore it seems like I'm always doing things in multiples.” He indicated an artificial rock overhang, the area it sheltered hidden from both the low-lying main residence and the street. “Can I stay awhile, and if I do will you keep my presence here a secret?”

“Are we not now friendss in combat, ssoftsskin?” Straightening out of his crouch, Kiijeem approached as Flinx rose to his feet. Turning his head to one side, the young AAnn exposed his throat. Flinx gripped it lightly, withdrew his hand, and turned his own head. Had he not been able to perceive the nye's emotions, he would never have taken such a chance. Young as he was, Kiijeem still had claws sharp enough to rip out a human throat.

The AAnn touched him appropriately and then stepped back. “You may sstay. Can you eat normal food?” Flinx gestured assent, though without the typical tail embellishment. Even in the absence of the accompanying gesture, Kiijeem understood. “You musst hide during the day. Tonight I will bring you ssomething to eat. Thiss area of the compound iss maintained and groomed by automatics. They are unssophissticated and eassily avoided.” He studied the tall human. “Tonight you will ansswer my quesstionss. I have many.”

“I have a few of my own,” Flinx replied. The possibilities presented by this unexpected new relationship were unspooling in his mind. In seeking a quiet place to hide for the night, he might have found a good deal more.

If Flinx handled it right, young Kiijeem AVMd might just be his way safely out of the capital city of Krrassin and off the homeworld of the predatory AAnn.

Hidden away within an artificial landscape on private property deep in the capital city on the homeworld of humanxkind's most implacable enemies, Flinx took pleasure in a surprisingly relaxing sleep. While the sandstone crevice in which he had sequestered himself for the night was hard and unyielding, the simsuit on which he was lying provided some padding. As for Pip, she obtained all the heat she needed for a good night's rest by simply coiling up next to her recumbent master.

The sun woke Flinx with enough force to remind him that he needed the simsuit as much to prevent sunstroke and sunburn as to fool the AAnn. Following a long draught of suit-treated water suctioned from the pool complemented by a measured sip from his liquid food supplies, he emerged from the crevice to examine his surroundings in daylight.

Not more than two meters high, the section of the main residence that protruded above ground level was clearly visible across the sculpted terrain. From a distance it was impossible to estimate the true size of the low-lying habitation. Given the extent of the surrounding fenced property and its location within the capital's boundaries, Flinx speculated that it would be considerable. Kiijeem's extended family was clearly very well off and the brevity of the young AAnn's surname further confirmed its status.

He crouched back under cover when a private transport rose from an underground garage. Humming softly, it accelerated parallel to his location. The vehicle paused at the fence line only long enough to satisfy Security before exiting onto the nearest passway and rising toward the distant domes and squat edifices that marked the center of the city. Half an hour later an entirely different transport appeared and entered the property. It did not head for the subterranean garage. Instead, it disgorged its trio of passengers outside and aboveground. The visitors then entered the underground complex by means of a down-sloping rampway Friends or workers, Flinx theorized, having no means of determining the newcomers' status. Reaching out toward them, he found that their emotions were flat and uninformative.

Not so those of the single figure that drew near his hiding place an hour later. Alien feelings rose and dipped in a combustible mix of anticipation, exhilaration, and uncertainty. Flinx sensed Kiijeem's approach well before he actually saw the young nye. All sentients, he had long ago discovered, broadcast their own distinctive emotive signature. He could recognize these as easily as a dog could identify animals by smell. At least, he could when his always unpredictable, irritatingly erratic Talent was functioning, as it was now.

He considered donning the simsuit in preparation for the impending meeting, then decided against it. There was no reason for him to do so as long as he was careful to keep out of the direct glare of Blasusarr's star. True, he would be more comfortable inside the self-regulating, temperature-controlled suit, but why waste the power when he could cool off just as easily with a simple dip in the pool? So he stayed in the shadows and waited for Kiijeem to find him.

The youthful AAnn did so eagerly, greeting him with a far more casual gesture than he had employed in the course of their previous encounter. “You are ressted for hunting?” he inquired energetically.

“Rested to kill,” Flinx replied politely and in kind. They were neither going to hunt nor kill anything except time, he knew, but many revered AAnn traditions dated to a time when Kiijeem's ancestors had stalked prey in packs across the wide hot stretches of Blasusarr's unforgiving deserts and plateaus. As man and AAnn looked on, Pip decided to pursue one of the nearby pool's many aquatic life-forms.

“Your companion takess well to water,” Kiijeem commented. “I have read that it iss much the ssame with your sspeciess.”

Unlike the thranx, who had a disconcerting tendency to sink instead of float and as a consequence possessed (with a few daredevil exceptions) a visceral fear of water, the AAnn could swim. Not as efficiently as humans, but with the aid of their tails they could manage reasonably well. Flinx decided to postpone any demonstration. While the emotions the young AAnn was disseminating confirmed that his current amity was genuine, he was still no boon teenage acquaintance. The relationship between them could change at any moment, Flinx knew. The same instinctive wariness that had sustained him and kept him alive since childhood had taught him that when and where possible it was always best to keep one's abilities a secret from a potential foe, no matter how unlikely the prospect of conflict might seem at the moment.

So he did not offer to demonstrate the human ability to swim by going for a dip. Instead, he indicated the lumpy package that hung from a strap over Kiijeem's left shoulder.

“Food and drink, as I promissed.” Setting the fabric container down, the young nye proceeded to unseal it. Some of the contents he passed to Flinx while keeping the rest for himself.

The tidily prepared cubes and slabs had the look, smell, consistency, and taste of various kinds of meat. Flinx knew they had been grown in vast protein factories. Only a specialist could have told them from actual animal flesh. Dining on the latter had long since been a privilege reserved for those AAnn who had access to significant income. Kiijeem's family might be rich enough to afford real meat, but not to the point of allowing one of their offspring access to it for a casual midday meal.

Flinx dug into the alien offering with gusto. AAnn food was better than liquid supplements, which was all that his suit could supply. Having been forced to survive on it many times in the course of the preceding couple of weeks, his system welcomed the change. Small doses of the metabolic supplements he swallowed every morning allowed him to assimilate even the most exotic components of local fare without damage to his stomach or intestines.

Kiijeem looked on in amazement as the tall human downed cube after cube of local food. “Your teeth are flat and few are pointed. How can they prepare ssomething like
kolipk
for digesstion?”

In between chews, Flinx pulled back his lips to reveal his teeth to his host. It was a physical feat the stiff-jawed AAnn could not duplicate. Kiijeem flinched at the sight.

“See?” Flinx told him as he relaxed his mouth. “The front teeth are incisors. Flat, but designed for cutting. All AAnn teeth are like daggers, short and sharp. Those of my kind are more diverse. Some are like slicing blades, a few are like daggers, and most are evolved for grinding. Remember that we are omnivores and consume plant matter as well.” He resumed eating.

Kiijeem performed a second-degree gesture of amazement. “Fasscinating. It is almosst as if the evolutionary process wass unssure which direction your biology sshould take.”

“We often wonder about such things ourselves.” He gestured at a dark purple slab of protein. “Pass me another piece of that seared
hilthopk
, will you?” The youth complied.

“How do you come to know sso much about our wayss, our food, our language?” Kiijeem asked him. “According to my sstudiess, humanss and AAnn rarely encounter one another except in the coursse of formalizing diplomatic or commercial exchangess.” He hesitated before adding, “And in battle.”

Flinx let it slide. “I suppose you could say that I am a rare kind of human. I have a particular reason for being interested in all species. Including those with whom the Commonwealth government does not always get along. As a consequence I've spent an unusual amount of time in the company of other sentients—including your own kind. Most recently on a world called Jast.”

“Jasst,” Kiijeem repeated. “I have heard of it. It hass not been prominent in my sstudiess.”

“It's not an Imperial world,” Flinx informed him. “It's independent, though inclining more to the Imperial orbit than that of the Commonwealth. There are many of your kind working there.” Recent memories came flooding back. “I spent some time there. More than I anticipated. A lot of it was among artists of your species.”

Kiijeem's reaction was reflexive.
“Pfssaact!
Some artisstss are important
in their way. Indusstrial dessignerss, for example. But mosst are weak and little more than a burden on ssociety. Art sshould be an adjunct to a true life. Thosse who choosse to do nothing but art are little more than parassitess. Humanx ssociety, if I remember correctly, viewss thiss differently.” Reinforced by gesture and emotion, the implication in the youth's tone was that humans and thranx were both debased species because they chose to honor full-time artists and viewed creative endeavors as an acceptable way of spending one's entire existence.

Sidestepping a characteristic AAnn invitation to argument, Flinx elaborated. “I think you might feel differently about this particular group of artists. For one thing, they chose to live apart from the rest of AAnn society. Your kind are especially gregarious, and such self-enforced isolation on an alien world represents a considerable sacrifice for them.”

“Fleeing and hiding by any other name …” Unpersuaded, Kiijeem blew dismissively through the nostrils located at the end of his short snout.

“I was badly injured and they took me in,” Flinx continued. “My own kind did not; the dominant Jastian sentients, the Vssey, did not. Only this group of AAnn artisans freely offered me shelter and succor. They could just as easily have finished me off and made a meal of my remains.” He met the youth's slitted gaze without blinking. “Most members of your species would have done exactly that. At least one of them tried. But not the members of this Tier.” He leaned back against a stone slab that was being warmed by the heat of day.

“I'd lost my memory. My time among the members of this Tier helped me regain it. They treated me as one of their own. One in particular …” His voice trailed away.

Though what little he knew of the remarkably flexible and expressive human face had been learned only in the past day or so, Kiijeem thought he detected suggestions of emotions not formerly encountered. The sudden fall-off of the human's voice and deliberate noncompletion of a whole thought also seemed to point to previously unencountered ambiguity. Curious as to the cause, he pressed his visitor for further explanation.

“You did not finissh the narrative. You were sspeaking, I believe, of an individual nye.”

Flinx eyed his young host sharply. “You're a perceptive one, Kiijeem.”

The AAnn responded with a gesture indicting first-degree concurrence. “In ssocial groupss I am often ssingled out for approbation of my sskillss at obsservation.”

“Truly,” Flinx conceded. “The female's name was Chraluuc. Like all of the Tier to which she belonged, she was an artist. She was charged, I suspect originally against her will, with looking after my amnesiac self. We became friends. Good friends. More than most, she wished me to be a bridge between human and AAnn.”

“What happened to her?” Kiijeem was much intrigued. In all his studies he had never encountered an instance of a personal, as opposed to the occasional professional, closeness between a human and one of his own kind.

“The same thing that happens to all of us.” Flinx spoke softly, remembering. “She died. Too soon.” He eyed the young AAnn. Round eyes peered deeply into slitted pupils. “I've spent much of my life not doing that.”