Flinx in Flux

by Alan Dean Foster

  Flinx lay beneath the transparent plexalloy. His eyes were closed, and his hands were crossed over his chest like those of a primordial Egyptian relic. Pip formed a tight, brightly colored coil below the crossed hands while a smaller duplicate of herself lay nearby.

  Clarity whirled on the older woman. “Dead?”

  “No, not at all.” Almost as shocking to Clarity as Flinx’s appearance was her superior’s ability to muster a laugh. “They’re only sleeping.” She walked the length of the table and rested a hand on the beige container. “This assures that they sleep.”

  “You’d better explain yourself.” Clarity was astonished at the hostility in her own voice.

  The other woman ignored her tone. “One thing I never forgot about my uncle’s tales was his fear of the Meliorares’s wild approach to manipulative eugenics, the possibility that one or more of their experimental subjects might develop unpredictable abilities. My actions merely reflect ordinary caution when confronted by such a possibility.” She studied the gray plasteel coffin.

  “There is also the fact that even if our young friend is as harmless as he claims to be and you seem to think he is, his pets are anything but and should be handled with the utmost care.” She smiled at Clarity. “You told me as much when you related the story of your flight from Alaspin.

  “Fortunately, our young friend’s desire to maintain the lowest possible profile worked to our advantage. As a result it is unlikely anyone will miss him. He ate in average restaurants, traveled by ordinary transportation, and, best of all, stayed in a middle-level hotel. Not too expensive, not too cheap. A place where people may be bribed.

  “Since my expertise lies in administration, I took the time to locate and employ reliable help. You’ve already been introduced to Dabis. The gentleman on the bed goes by the name of Monconqui.” The latter never looked up from his sporting match. Dabis grinned unpleasantly at Clarity. “They supplied advice, obtained necessary equipment, and provided muscle.

  “The gas that was introduced through the hotel room’s venting system was quite odorless and colorless. We also took the precaution of injecting it while our young friend was asleep. Your story made me additionally cautious, you see. At first we feared his scaly companions were immune, but eventually they, too, were overcome. Dabis was for needling both on the spot, so I had to explain to him that the bond between man and minidrag would be an important component of future research. Difficult to carry out if half your subjects are dead.”

  “Future research? What are you talking about, future research?”

  Vandervort ignored her as she continued. “Once they had been anesthetized, it was a simple matter to place them in this specially designed container, which is used by zoos and related institutions to transport dangerous fauna. I think our young man and his friends fit in that category. I did not and do not want him conscious until he has been placed in a facility that will render his pets harmless.” She patted the beige container.

  “This holds the sleep gas as well as equipment for mixing it with breathable air. The supply is constantly monitored to ensure the health of the larger container’s occupants. In reality the two containers comprise a complete life-support system. Ports on the other side permit intravenous feeding when necessary without compromising the system’s integrity. Don’t be so melodramatic. Flinx and his pets will enjoy the kind of deep rest and comfort the rest of us can only dream about. This system is designed to keep expensive specimens optimally healthy.”

  “He’s not a specimen!” Clarity could not contain her anger or her anguish any longer.

  Vandervort pursed her lips. “My dear, I don’t think you’re taking this in the proper spirit. Perhaps you’ve not yet glimpsed the opportunity that lies before us. This young man can make our fortune. If he cooperates, it will make his fortune as well.”

  “I don’t think he’s interested in fortunes. His or anybody else’s,” was the angry retort.

  Vandervort shrugged. “People often choose to deny their interest in large sums of money until it’s actually offered to them, until they are faced with the reality instead of the concept. Your lack of interest in this project puzzles me. Insofar as we know, this young man is the only surviving sane product of the Society’s work. I’d think you’d find that fascinating.”

  “Of course I find it fascinating. That doesn’t mean I’m going to go poking around inside his head and nervous system without his permission. He’s an individual with rights and—”

  “Yes, yes.” Vandervort waved off her objections. “I’m familiar with all the pertinent regulations. But we have here an exception to all the rules. An exception worth bending regulations to study.”

  “He may not cooperate. Have you thought of that?”

  Again the smile, which in its own way, Clarity saw for the first time, could be more sinister than that of Dabis. “My dear, I like to think that I’ve thought of everything. I believe he will cooperate—eventually. I sincerely hope that he will. If not, there are ways to induce him to do so that do not involve physical coercion. For example, he is very attached to his pet. I am speaking of genuine affection and not just the unique emotional bond that exists between them. While I would be reluctant to countenance probing him against his will, I do not think I would have the same compunctions where a flying snake is concerned.”

  Clarity managed to calm herself. “I liked you, Amee. I thought of you as a second mother.”

  “I’m flattered, but I would much prefer it, my dear, if you would think of me as a fellow scientist striving to extend the reach of human knowledge.” She nodded at the coffin. “Our young friend is reluctant to explore himself because he doesn’t understand himself. That’s to be expected. The conflict within him is social, not biological. As soon as he can be made to realize that, I think he will be eager to seek our cooperation. We intend to see that he has everything he could possibly want, that he’s given the best conceivable living environment, and that he’ll be working with dedicated professionals who only want to help him understand himself.

  “I think he’ll be grateful to us. He won’t have to hide anymore, won’t have to run. We’ll keep him hidden from the government functionaries who’ll only want to ‘normalize’ him.”

  A sudden realization struck Clarity like a window opening in her mind. “My function in all this is to act as one of his teachers and observers?”

  “I can’t imagine what else you had in mind.”

  “You wouldn’t be trying to include me as part of that ‘everything he could possibly want’?”

  Vandervort stared evenly back at her. “If your presence at the facility which is in the process of being established resulted in your performing a dual function, I’m sure the company would be correspondingly grateful.”

  “I just wanted to make certain I understood my position in all this. But suppose you have him figured wrong, Amee? Suppose he doesn’t want any part of your generous offer to help him learn to ‘understand’ himself? What if all he wants is to maintain his privacy? Suppose that’s more important to him than helping you ‘extend the reach of human knowledge’—for your profit?”

  “He’ll profit as well.” Vandervort sounded hurt. “This will benefit him more than anyone else. I truly believe that.”

  “I don’t. What I also can’t believe is that Coldstripe’s backers would countenance something like this. I had the opportunity to meet several of them when I was hired, and they didn’t strike me as the type who’d go in for this kind of thing. Sure, they want to preside over historic breakthroughs and get their names on the newsfax. Sure, they want to make money. But I don’t see any of the men and women I talked to approving kidnapping as part of the necessary methodology for achieving those ends.”

  “A harsh choice of words, my dear. I prefer to think of what we’re doing as helping a mentally distraught young man to find himself. And I should add that Coldstripe has nothing to do with this. Your assessments are correct in that respect.”

&n
bsp; That brought Clarity up short. “Then who?”

  “Scarpania House is paying all our expenses. I’ve kept in touch with friends there for a long time. A survival tactic in the world of business. Always keep lines of communication open to alternative employment. Scarpania is a hundred times bigger than Coldstripe. They can provide private spacecraft, unquestioning customs clearances, everything an operation like this requires. When I explained to them what was at stake here, they readily opened their hearts and minds to me. Also their line of credit.

  “I still don’t think you’re seeing the potential here, my dear. Imagine watching this young man under controlled conditions as he matures and develops. Even if he manifests no other talent, the close study of his capacity for emotional telepathy will be sufficient to guarantee us comfortable employment for life. Having been emotionally involved with him, you are in a better position than anyone else to engage in such research.”

  “I see where you’re going with this, Amee, and I can tell you right now I don’t want any part of it. Understand?”

  “Think carefully, my dear. Think clearly. Cultivate a proper scientific attitude.”

  “I’m not going to cozy up to him so you can measure and record and analyze his reactions,” she said bitterly. “I’m not some damn soporific you can inject into his life to make him feel a little better about what you’re going to do to him.”

  Vandervort moved away from the beige container. “At least you know what is wanted of you. I’m sure you’ll change your mind, if for no other reason than that he’ll need you. I urge you not to commit yourself to a snap emotional decision but to give it time and consideration. If nothing else, he is a very handsome young man, for all the pains he takes to conceal it.”

  “I’m not one of your tools. You can’t buy me.”

  This time the older woman was genuinely amused. “That remains to be seen, my dear. I haven’t tendered you an offer yet, have I? Consider also that if you return to Coldstripe, and I say now I will not stop you from so doing, you will never find out what happens to our Flinx: how he develops, what unsuspected talents he may display, or who might be hired to take your place.”

  This could not be happening, Clarity told herself. This was not Momma Vandervort speaking to her, calmly laying out the details of a plan as nefarious as anything seen on the tridee. Flinx was not lying doped and still as the dead in a plasteel coffin on that table to her left.

  She knew the truth of what Vandervort had told her. If she did not agree to participate, then they would find someone else to try to insinuate herself into Flinx’s confidence. They would keep trying until they hit on the right combination of empathy, beauty, and intelligence. Someone with less understanding of Flinx and fewer scruples than herself. If she wanted to help him, then she had to accept the older woman’s offer, work for her and Scarpania at least temporarily until she could think of a way out for both of them.

  Think! Buy some time.

  “Just for the sake of argument, what if I abjure everything you’ve proposed and take this straight to the Gorisan authorities?”

  Vandervort’s tone did not change. “I’d rather you didn’t do that, my dear. Regardless of what you may think of me at this moment, I’ve grown fond of you during the time we’ve worked together. I think you are a highly qualified, potentially brilliant gengineer who is also blessed with enthusiasm and the talent to inspire her coworkers beyond their natural abilities.”

  That was all she said. No threats, direct or implied. Only admiration and a gentle request backed up by the presence of Dabis and the still supine Monconqui.

  “I could go along,” Clarity told her, “agree to all you ask, and then slip away and spill everything to the Church.”

  Vandervort considered briefly, nodding. “Yes, you could probably do that. You’re resourceful, and not as naive as when you first came to work for me. You might even find a padre who’d believe your story. But by the time anyone came looking, we’d have moved our facility and our young man to a place of safety. You won’t be able to trace us, and neither will the Church. And while I would simply shrug off the additional expense, Scarpania likely would not. Since you would not have the money to reimburse them for their trouble, I’m afraid they would find another method of obtaining satisfaction.”

  Having run out of arguments, Clarity slumped visibly. Realizing she had gained everything she wanted, Vandervort forced herself not to smile with satisfaction. The younger woman would only react emotionally, and Vandervort had had enough of emotional reactions for a while.

  Flinx was used to strange dreams. This one was no exception. He was drifting, floating just below the surface of a lake of pure crystalline water. Pip bobbed beside him, and Scrap next to her. But none of them were swimming. None of them were breathing. They simply hung there below the glassine surface, adrift in cool peacefulness.

  Though he knew he risked drowning by doing so, he tried to taste the water, only to find he was unable to inhale a drop through either his mouth or his nostrils. It was very peculiar water, almost like air. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was floating beneath the surface of a sea of methane or liquid nitrogen.

  At times he thought he could see shapes moving above. They passed by infrequently. Faces with wings that gazed mournfully down at him before fluttering away. He tried to speak to them, tried to reach up to them, but could not do so. He was unable to move. Nor was his Talent functioning, since he could not sense their emotions. What pale impressions he did receive were tenuous and imprecise. He felt neither hostility nor affection, only bland indifference.

  He was not alarmed. Contentment seeped through him. Hunger and thirst were abstract concepts. Very faintly, something deep inside his mind tried to insist that this was not right, that he needed to bestir himself, to move about, to stand.

  Waste of time. Useless and unnecessary to try to analyze his situation or his environment. Enough to lie in the lake heedless of the world around him, whatever it might be like.

  He sensed the minidrags’ emotions and knew they paralleled his own. They dreamed of flying through an empty sky with no land below, no trees, no clouds above. It was an unsettling dream, and Pip and Scrap fluttered their wings.

  No one in the room noticed the two minidrags twitching and trying to fly. It did not matter, anyway, because they remained sedated. While their tolerance for the morphogas was higher than Flinx’s, neither had recovered enough to regain consciousness. They simply moved a little before growing still again, moved and lay still, dreaming of flight while trapped on the ground.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Clarity had agreed to everything her boss had requested. In the final analysis the young woman was as logical and sensible as herself, Vandervort knew. Possibly she still harbored thoughts of somehow freeing Flinx, but she had neither the experience nor the knowledge to do so. Vandervort was confident that as time passed she would be able to manipulate both young people as required.

  She had a private transport service coming to help with the moving. Dabis and Monconqui would be available also. The plasteel coffin, its top now closed so as not to reveal its contents to casual observers, would present no problem.

  It was an off-work day and she had to pay double for the moving service, but that was one of the nice things about having a virtually unlimited expense account. Scarpania’s own research people were more than anxious to have a look at her prize.

  Two weeks to get everything ready. A secure installation had been thrown together on an isolated island on a modest colony world clear across the Commonwealth. They would travel on a Scarpanian freighter devoid of cargo except for themselves and their precious sleeper. To any outsider it would seem a flagrant waste of money, but several members of her new employer’s scientific staff had recognized the importance of her discovery and appreciated its potential fully as much as she did.

  Clarity was there, too: packed, ready to depart, and downcast, having barely resigned herself to the situation. Plotting and plannin
g, no doubt. That was fine, Vandervort thought. It would give her something to do during the long, dull journey through null-space.

  Dabis called down to her from the top of the stairs. “They’re here, ma’am.”

  “You checked their idents?”

  “Yes’m.”

  “Then let them in and let’s get on with it.”

  She made a last sweep of the room in which she had spent so many busy hours this past month. Monconqui was checking the morphogas tanks to make sure they were full and working properly. He did not talk as readily as Dabis, but the two men were cast from the same mental mold. They were much more than simply dumb assassins. If one was willing to pay, one could hire intelligent muscle as easily as stupid.

  The moving crew wore light green jumpsuits and caps. She expected people Dabis’s size, but apparently the company had opted for numbers instead of individual mass. Perhaps it had been difficult to bring in their regulars on short notice even for double pay. Not that size and strength were necessary, she reminded herself, in these days of labor-saving devices. With the levitating grapples they carried, the four of them could easily position a two-ton generator. One of the women, a tall blonde of icy mien, looked capable of lifting one end of the coffin all by herself, though her three companions did not appear nearly as capable. Even with the grapples taken into account, one man in particular looked too old to be engaged in this sort of work. Not that she knew anything about the particular expertise moving work required, she told herself.

  She walked over to the curtain and pulled it aside for the last time. “Let’s start with this.”

  “Right,” said the young man who seemed to be in charge.