Sliding Scales

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Sliding Scales Page 5

by Alan Dean Foster


  “Very little,” Flinx replied honestly.

  Takuuna hissed softly. “It hass one prevailing characterisstic. Sslowness. Nothing here movess quickly. Certainly not the dominant sspeciess, the Vssey.”

  “I've already noticed that. It's hard to move fast in the absence of legs.”

  “Truly.” With a start, Takuuna realized that the human was making an attempt at humor. It was an effort that fell well within the restricted parameters of what the AAnn regarded as amusing. “The great majority of advanced life-formss on Jasst are either ssedentary, as the Vssey themsselvess once were, or incapable of rapid movement. A ssingle kravune from my homeworld could make a hundred of them prey each and every day without ssacrificing sso much as one of itss own sscaless.”

  “That would explain the vigilance of the immigration officials at the port.”

  He misses nothing, Takuuna thought. He comes here claiming to be in search of nothing, but sees everything. A trained observer, or merely an enthusiastic one?

  “Come. I will introduce you to the sslowness that iss Jasst.” Raising up on the balls of both sandaled feet, he pivoted ceremoniously and started for the door.

  As Flinx followed, he sensed Pip's continuing unease. She had been restless ever since they had entered the administrator's presence. Flinx did his best to calm her. Attacking their official escort would be a poor way to convince the local authorities that he meant no harm.

  Besides, he had also perceived the antagonism that was being directed toward him. Unlike Pip, he thought little of it. It was no more than one would expect from any AAnn. They were instinctively and unremittingly hostile to anyone not of their own kind—and often to those as well. As he knew from long experience, this very consistency of enmity made it difficult to guess their intentions. How could you tell when someone was really angry at you when they existed in a state of perpetual animosity?

  There were degrees of anger, though. So far, the one called Takuuna had emitted little more than the usual nervous unfriendliness. A Vsseyan guide would have been more agreeable. On the other hand, he reflected as he followed the AAnn through the doorway, given the average pace at which things Vssey moved, he suspected that seeing anything substantial in their company would require a minimal commitment of a year or two.

  Once in the aircar and outside the city, Takuuna seemed to relax. While hardly what one would call a convivial conversationalist, he at least deigned to engage in some interspecies small talk. Flinx's fluency in the AAnn language, with its multiple honorifics and stylized grammar, continued to surprise the administrator. Unlike many individuals who had spent time in Flinx's company, Takuuna showed no fear of Pip. Maybe it was the scales they shared, Flinx mused.

  It was midday before he thought to dip into the food supplies that had thoughtfully been provided—not by the AAnn, but by the Vsseyan authorities. As it sampled a bit of each, the analyzer on his belt told him what was edible, what was poisonous, and what was likely to make a good solvent. Some of it was nutritious, little of it was tasty. Vsseyan food, apparently, was as bland as those who had supplied it. Though she nibbled on what was offered to her, Pip plainly shared his opinion.

  Water had also been provided. As for Takuuna, he did not offer to share any of his own provisions. Flinx would have been shocked had his guide volunteered to do so. Such a generous gesture would have been most un-AAnn.

  Chewing determinedly on a squarish loaf of something with the consistency of heat-softened plastic and a faint flavor of spoiled cheese, he debated whether to extract a piece of compressed chocolate from the emergency pack that was also secured to his belt. Once popped into his mouth, it would expand into something substantial and filling. He held off. They had traveled a good distance already, and he had no idea where they were going. The landscape, with its fantastical twisted growths and dense but neatly spaced vegetation, had engaged the majority of his attention. Eating, and the need to forget what he was eating, induced him to reengage his host in conversation.

  “Is this meant to be a general tour of the countryside, or do you have some specific destination in mind?” Flinx squirmed in his seat. He was too tall for the curving protective dome, and the sharply down-angled slope of the chair seat caused his knees to come close to eye level with his face. Furthermore, part of his backside kept trying to push out through the slot in the back of the seat that was designed to accommodate the AAnn tail.

  Sitting opposite him in the other front chair, Takuuna took no note of his guest's discomfort. “We are traveling to Saudaunn Chasm. It iss a bit remote, but home to a unique biological phenomenon that well exemplifiess the uniqueness of Jasstian fauna. One such as yoursself who collectss knowledge will appreciate it.” He added a third-degree gesture of curiosity, tempered with mild irritation. “Meanwhile, iss not this a fasscinating and beautiful place?”

  It would be to the AAnn, Flinx reflected as he gazed out through the dome. No wonder they were so protective of their rights here. Since his arrival, he had noted that the native people, the Vssey, were very much in charge of their own world. Flinx doubted they even realized the kind of danger to their sovereignty the AAnn represented. And while the AAnn could move very rapidly when they wanted to, they could also be very patient in the pursuit of their aims.

  It was none of his business, he reminded himself firmly. He was here on vacation, to relax and do nothing of consequence. Interstellar politics, interstellar disputes—he had left that all behind, along with the situation on New Riviera and the search he was supposed to be making for a certain strayed weapons platform. He should be, needed to be, drinking in the beauty of the local landscape.

  “What's that?” he asked, pointing in the direction of a tree that looked like it had swallowed live explosives. Its branches grew in every direction according to no discernible pattern. The ends expanded and flattened out until they were as thin as paper.

  Takuuna hissed sibilantly at the control panel on his left, and the aircar changed direction by a fraction of a degree, still heading steadily northeastward.

  “Fwellen tree. Like a great deal of Jasstian flora, it hass no leavess. The flattened tipss of itss branchess collect moissture from the air and convey it through hollow spacess in the branchess all the way to the main trunk. Itss root ssysstem is very disspersse and sshallow and barely sstrong enough to keep it from toppling over.”

  Flinx nodded appreciatively. “You like this world, don't you?”

  Pausing in his chewing of a spongy, dat-flavored snack ball, the administrator looked over sharply at his unwanted guest. “In what sspirit iss the quesstion assked?”

  “I just meant that from your gestures and the brightness of your eyes when you describe something, it suggests that you're very comfortable here.” He looked on idly as Pip explored a corner of the front console, her tongue poking in and out of hollows, looking for dropped tidbits.

  “We are guesstss here. The Empire hass no dessignss on Jasst, and we enjoy an excellent relationsship with our hosstss, the Vssey. Ssince you assk, it iss a bit cooler and a bit damper than what we prefer, but yess, we like it here. What are you implying?”

  Keeping an eye on Pip, Flinx smiled easily. “I wasn't implying anything. And I didn't ask whether the Empire likes Jast, or even if your kind does. I was asking the question of you, and you alone.”

  He is either very shrewd, a thoroughly annoyed Takuuna reflected, or else entirely ingenuous. If the latter, then there is nothing to worry about. If the former, then I am acting the fool. That could not be allowed to continue. And there were his other considerations.

  Administrator Takuuna began to plot-weave.

  “This Saudaunn Chasm we're going to see.” Pip had returned to his lap. “What's so special about it? I've seen many canyons.”

  “Not one like thiss,” his host assured him. “We are not going there for the canyon itsself sso much as we are for fauna it hosstss.”

  “What kind of fauna?” asked his guest, newly curious.

 
; “Vsstisst, you will ssee.”

  It was evening before they arrived in the vicinity of Saudaunn, and darkness had settled in tightly around the aircar before Takuuna finally located what he felt would be a propitious place to spend the evening. Another traveler might have balked at the prospect of spending a night in a strange locale with only an insensitive AAnn for company. Not Flinx. He had spent many alien nights on many alien worlds in far more unpredictable company. Besides, he wasn't alone, as Pip promptly reminded him. The instant they emerged from the confines of the aircar into the crisp, dry, and increasingly chill night air of the Jastian plateau, she wriggled straightaway down his shirt collar and huddled against his torso.

  “Don't worry,” he told her, stroking her through his shirt. “We'll just have a quick look around and then you and I will sleep the night in the aircar.” He glanced over at Takuuna, who was striding with typical AAnn fluidity and grace toward a rocky promontory. “We are going to sleep in the aircar, right?”

  His escort glanced back at him. Moonlight from one of Jast's two satellites glinted off narrowing eyes as he responded with a gesture of—well, suffice to say it was not polite. “I am charged with sserving as your guide. I am neither hotelier nor concierge. I intend to ssleep insside the aircar, yess. You may take your resst wherever you wissh.”

  Flinx eyed the ground underfoot. It was mostly tormented, eroded red-and-white granite. “I'm sorry there's not enough sand here to make a decent bed.”

  The AAnn's double eyelids blinked as he rejoined his charge. “You know much about The People. Truly, I miss the warm ssand of my ressting place in the city.” The administrator seemed to hesitate. “I have never heard of humanss ssleeping within ssand.”

  Flinx smiled as they strolled back to their vehicle. “Sleeping under it, no. But if the beach is nice, we're quite happy to burrow in for a while.”

  “ ‘Beach.’ ” Takuuna's tail whipped agitatedly from side to side. “Damp ssand. That doess not make for a proper bedding. That doess not even make for a proper thought— for a civilized being.”

  Flinx glanced back the way the AAnn had come. What had he seen beyond the small promontory he had climbed? What lay beyond? The canyon, no doubt—and perhaps something more. There had to be something more, he decided. Otherwise, this long journey out from Skokosas was going to prove disappointing.

  Lying on his stomach on the floor of the aircar, his arms spraddled out in front of him, Takuuna marveled at the human's indifference. The softskin slept soundlessly on his side, utterly indifferent to his AAnn escort, his colorful pet curled up alongside the red fur of the rounded mammalian skull. With a single double kick and slash of claws, Takuuna could simultaneously cut the sleeping human's throat and disembowel him. Sick of wasting time wondering and puzzling, he was sorely tempted to do just that. An accident, in the hinterlands of Jast. No one would know, no one would care.

  Or would they? Might the human's demise cause difficulties for him with the Vsseyan authorities? After all, the softskin's arrival had been duly noted and officially processed by Immigration. Other than the pure pleasure the killing would provide, and perhaps a curious sampling of meat whose taste he had previously appreciated only via rumor and hearsay, was there any other reason for risking potential trouble?

  It occurred then to Takuuna that it would mean a big-time burnishing of his facial scales if he could somehow prove that the softskin was no innocent tourist, as he appeared and claimed to be, but instead had traveled to Jast with the intent of doing his best to damage Imperial interests there. The fact that the human had thus far done nothing to suggest that he was anything of the sort was not necessarily an impediment to proving the contrary. Or what if it could be proven that the visitor was in fact a spy, sent alone to Jast in the hope that the work of a single agent would be overlooked?

  The fact that so far he had been “overlooked” could only add to Takuuna's glory in exposing the subterfuge. This would in turn have the added benefit of undermining Captain Qerrudd, who had not officially protested to the Jastian authorities who had permitted the softskin's admittance. Takuuna foresaw favorable consequences: perhaps even promotion within the hierarchy above the infuriating captain. Only one significant obstacle blocked this tongue-warming scenario: the human himself, who thus far had shown himself to be guilty of nothing but persistent curiosity.

  Very well, then. Administrator Takuuna was nothing if not inventive, especially for a bureaucrat. If no transgression could be discerned, he would have to manufacture one.

  Truly, but how? Lying prone on the floor of the silent aircar, shielded by its tight insulation from the night sounds rising from the nearby canyon, Takuuna pondered ritual maliciousness. He could simply shoot or eviscerate the human and subsequently claim to have been attacked. No, he decided. The young human's height notwithstanding, it would require a more physically imposing opponent to rationalize a claim of self-defense. What then? Something less blatant and more obtuse was in order. Something less amenable to close inspection and the questions that would inevitably arise from his peers.

  Zealous thinking brought to mind the reports that had occasionally passed before him of the half-documented, half-rumored circles of dissident and disaffected Vssey who were adamantly opposed to the AAnn presence on their world. Suppose he could construct a suitable scenario wherein the human “tourist” had arrived to establish preliminary contact with one or more of such groups? That would constitute a credible threat to AAnn interests in this part of space. One sufficient to justify a claim of self-defense in the event that the stratagem was discovered by a bold interrogator such as himself, who was then forced to defend himself against the enraged and desperate spy. Yess, truly!

  If pressed, he could then point the claw of accusation at one of the several comparatively harmless known dissident circles, accusing them of conspiring with the human and the humanx Commonwealth. Their protestations of innocence would not be believed. Before their blamelessness could be validated, he himself would generously suggest they be exonerated, innocents lured into sin by one of the always nefarious, ever cunning humans. Such munificence of spirit would serve to raise his status among the Vssey. Concomitantly, his own kind would grant him credit for great perspicacity, and no harm done.

  Except to the human, of course. One lone human, on “vacation,” far from the Commonwealth and friends. His presence, like his fate, would quickly be forgotten. By the time anyone came looking for him—if anyone did—the entire incident would be little more than a middling memory among both AAnn and Vssey. Who would care?

  He knew he had to proceed with caution. Career-killing mistakes were usually made by those who had not carefully thought through their actions. The solution was simple enough.

  He would sleep on it.

  Across the floor, on the other side of the aircar, Flinx lay with his back to his host. Though he appeared asleep, he was in fact awake, his eyes closed. Though he was facing away from the AAnn, he could still perceive him. Though its dozing exhalations filled the aircar's compartment with soft, sibilant hisses, Flinx knew his host was only feigning sleep, that he was in fact awake and brooding furiously.

  About what, Flinx knew not. Only when his talent was functioning could he sense emotions, not complex thought. What he sensed was open antipathy. Nothing less could be expected from an AAnn, even from one appointed to act as his guide and escort. It was their nature. For them, unrelenting hostility was a way of life that extended even to members of their own species.

  So Flinx was not unsettled as he shifted his position on the hard deck. Only sleep would silence the raging emotional outpourings of the scaly sentient lying nearby. He relaxed. In the event of any sudden, untoward movement in his direction, Pip would wake him. Or, if necessary, do more than that. The flying snakes of Alaspin were notoriously light sleepers.

  Among the long litany of Bad Things One Could Do In Life, startling an Alaspinian minidrag out of a sound sleep ranked very high on the list.

&n
bsp; 4

  An emotive surge of uncertainty mixed with the usual enmity woke Flinx. As he rolled over, he saw that his host was just sitting up, using his strong, limber arms to push his body straight backwards. This push, combined with the counterweight provided by the ever active, switching tail, allowed the AAnn to stand erect. A glance showed that Jast's sun was just beginning to show itself on the horizon.

  “It will be cold outsside.” Clearly, Takuuna was not looking forward to the prospect.

  “I'll manage.” Flinx smiled at his guide. “I've spent time on colder worlds.”

  The administrator let out a sharp hiss whose subtle modulations Flinx was unable to interpret. Donning his utility vest, sandals, and a heated cloak to enable him to stand the chill morning air, the AAnn braced himself. At a brush of one clawed hand over a control pad, an opening appeared in the side of the aircar. Outside air entered like a coquette's slap. Flinx sucked it in, alien aromas and all, and followed his guide outside. Unlike the heat-loving AAnn, he needed no extra clothing to enable him to cope with sunrise temperatures. He wondered if his offhand comment about having spent time on colder worlds had been taken by his host for an ambiguous slight.

  In moments they were standing on the rim of the canyon, and then there was no more time to analyze AAnn reactions. Or, for that matter, much of anything else. He was too busy looking, and marveling.

  As the first rays of the rising sun penetrated the depths of Saudaunn Chasm, they began to warm the air that had settled within. In addition to the atmosphere, the slowly rising temperature caused the various gases contained within the lifting bladders of creatures that had made their homes on ridges and ledges, in cracks and caves within the canyon, to expand. Though this daily heating and expanding was a common occurrence everywhere on Jast, at Saudaunn the phenomenon took on particular resonance.

  Because the canyon depths were home to not several, not dozens, not even hundreds but to thousands of diurnal herbivorous grazers. Twiloulds and semasamps, torokwal and bederuntt, they began to rise in their thousands from their traditional dwelling and breeding grounds deep within the canyon and its walls. Watching the mass ascension, Flinx was enchanted. Pip darted delightedly above and around him, pleased to sense her master so enthralled by the sight of so much natural beauty. Whenever he felt particularly good, the feeling was instantly perceived by her.

 

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