Sliding Scales

by Alan Dean Foster

  Riffling through his belongings, she looked for anything that especially reminded her of him. As principal, though not exclusive, mating partner of record, she legally had first choice. No one would deny her that. As already noted, there was little to choose from. Sorting through the small stock of entertainment cubes, she picked out a couple that they had enjoyed together. Little enough to remind one of a dead companion.

  She was about to leave when she remembered the special compartment. It was a secret place, Joofik had told her. Sharing knowledge of it with her had been a sign of his true commitment. At the remembrance, she hissed so long and hard that she abraded her tongue against her front teeth.

  Located behind a small illumination plate and designed to look like a backup power supply, the small private container held very little. Some semi-valuable items of personal adornment, which she immediately and without reservation pocketed in her carry-pouch; a few examples of dried Jastian flora, which she ignored; and a single entertainment cube. No, she corrected herself as she examined the nail-shaving–sized storage device: a data cube. She took it as well.

  Looking around as she prepared to leave the apartment chamber for the last time, her gaze fell once more on the unfortunate Joofik's cube translator. It being a cheaper model than her own, and older, she had chosen to leave it for the next certified scavenger. But it provided an excuse not to depart just yet.

  Seating herself before the player and settling her tail in the chair slot behind her, she slipped the data cube into the compact player. The information it contained was security-coded, of course, but she knew the code well. She and Joofik had shared much. Images appeared in the air before her, as fleeting as the memory of her lost friend.

  There was a diary. She would save that for reading later, when she was emotionally better equipped to deal with such lost intimacy. There were details of personal life that did not fit within a diary's parameters. There were credit account records, tending, as they did with the majority of transients, to the positive. Could she access them? It was certainly worth a try. The boost to her account would be most welcome.

  And then, squeezed in among the other recorded inconsequentialities, there was a singular file boldly designated “Vsseyan Activities Directed Against the Imperial Presence on Jast—a Solution.” She nearly thought to put it aside, too. On a whim, she decided to skim the initial scribings—and found she could not stop.

  Extraordinary! Why had she not yet heard anything about this development, either via internal communications, media, or from friends? Could it be that it was not yet widely disseminated among the administration staff? Could it be that Joofik had been killed before he had been able to deliver the data she was studying by the subdued light of his ceiling? If the latter, it was an oversight that screamed to be rectified—information of importance to every AAnn on Jast. It was her responsibility to pass it along, to see that it reached those in a position to both appreciate the data and take appropriate action on its behalf. Her sharp-toothed Joofik would earn his promotion, even if it would have to be delivered posthumously. As she rose from the chair to remove the information cube from the player, she knew exactly where to go with the information he had so carefully guarded. Only one person was properly positioned to review the material and act on it without hesitation.

  The head of the special unit charged with dealing with the threat of the Vsseyan radicals—Secondary Administrator Takuuna VBXLLW.

  Given the sensitive nature of the data and the care Joofik had taken to keep it confidential—no doubt to prevent others (including, properly, herself) from benefiting from the fruits of his labor—she determined to submit the information in person. Exiting and resealing the apartment chamber behind her, she strode purposefully in the direction of Administration Central. Once out in a main corridor, she utilized her tablet's communicator to directly access Special Unit Chief Takuuna. There was only one problem.

  His office insisted the administrator was out of Skokosas on important covert business and would be completely out of contact until the moment of his return.

  Halting in the corridor, tail switching indecisively, she debated with herself how best to proceed. Other nye walked briskly around her, politely ignoring her private contemplation. Probably she ought to wait for the administrator's return. But the data cube, resting in the carry-pouch slung over her right shoulder and across her chest, burned to release the vital information it contained.

  I know, she decided finally. I will compromise, and in so doing will gain the greatest possible benefit for poor Joofik, tilassk.

  She would leave an appropriate message for the absent unit leader, together with the detailed report that had been assembled by her late, lamented mating partner. He would be able to retrieve it as soon as he emerged from the privacy shell beneath which he was currently laboring. Simultaneously, she would forward the data to every other relevant department and sector she could think of, including that of senior administrator Keliichu. If any or all of them thought Joofik's conclusions in need of immediate action, they would be able to respond accordingly and at their own pace.

  Increasingly confident she had done the right thing for the Empire, for Joofik's reputation, and for herself, she began compiling a list of addresses of departments she thought might find the conclusions reached by her late favorite male of more than passing interest.

  At first, a bewildered Flinx found himself struggling to keep up with the restless Chraluuc. But the AAnn were sprinters, not distance runners, and as she slowed he found himself loping alongside as she led the way down the familiar trail. Pip, naturally, had no difficulty shadowing them both from above.

  “Why are we running? Where are we going?” He was breathing hard, the folds of his custom-tailored robe streaming out around him.

  She explained between sibilant intakes of breath. “We have received an official transsmission from an incoming aircar requessting that we hold you for ‘quesstioning.’ The requesst came from the same fixated official who tried to take you in for quesstioning earlier. As you know, we denied that requesst. There is concern that thiss time the official may try to remove you from the groundss by force if he cannot do sso by documentation.” Ignoring a wide bend in the descending switchback trail, she scrambled straight downward, making her own shortcut. Flinx followed, his ribbed sandals slipping and sliding on the inconsiderate sandstone. Folding her wings, Pip rocketed effortlessly past them.

  “What can be the reason for this official's obsession with me?” Flinx was genuinely perplexed.

  Chraluuc managed a second-degree gesture of disdain. “He thinkss you are ssomehow involved in the violent actionss that have been perpetrated againsst our pressence here on Jasst.”

  “That's crazy!” Flinx leaned backward slightly as he followed her into the familiar side canyon. “How could I give assistance to anyone outside the Tier even if I wanted to? There would be a record of transmissions, of shipments, of—”

  “Calm yoursself. Truly, your fellow artissans know that. It iss only thiss one official who sseemss not to. I have been given permission to conceal you until he hass departed. As they did previoussly, the Elders of the Ssemilionn will deal with him.”

  They were in the canyon of The Confection. It loomed ahead of them now, the vast concentric rings of shimmering applied art filling the gap between natural arch and canyon bottom with extravagant grace and glimmer. As always, he was overwhelmed by the baroque alien splendor of the communal artistic effort. His own small contribution, added only a week ago, spiraled outward from the lower left corner. It seemed pitifully inadequate compared with the towering contributions made by senior sculptors of open space such as the great Haagaz and florid Yiivada.

  “Thiss way.” She led him to the small but comfortable shelter where those preoccupied by their work on The Confection could spend the night or take cover from the occasional bad weather that swept over the plateau. It was equipped with its own climate-control system as well as food and hygienic facili
ties.

  Once inside, she drew water from the dispenser; tepid for herself, as cold as the unit could manage for him. While they sat and sipped and gazed out one of the two wide windows at the indefatigable spectacle that was The Confection, Flinx wondered why one local administrator was so convinced he could somehow be playing a part in the violent actions that had been directed at the AAnn presence on this world. It made no sense; none whatsoever. All he was trying to do was live peaceably among sentients of similar inclination if different appearance while trying to regain his lost memories. He was no threat to anyone. For reasons known probably only to him, this solitary official thought otherwise.

  Try as he might, he could not reconcile the mania this particular AAnn felt with the reality that Flinx knew to be true.

  Takuuna's frustration knew no bounds. Initially polite, then formal, he had at last been reduced to ranting and raving and threatening—all to no avail. The senile leaders of this misbegotten Tier of reclusive ascetics had refused absolutely to turn the human over to him. That had left him no choice but to order a search of the premises. In response, his efficient troopers had methodically combed the compound. Their search had uncovered nothing but angry stares and whispered insults.

  Could the softskin have recovered its memory and left? It seemed unlikely. No vehicle had been tracked leaving the vicinity of the complex. Would the human, if warned of the approach of Takuuna's aircar, be so foolish as to set out on foot across the intimidating Smuldaar Plateau? That, too, seemed difficult to countenance. Intense contemplation left the administrator with one conclusion: his quarry was still here, somewhere. Was still being sheltered and protected by the ill-advised artisans.

  But in the absence of specific information there was nothing more he could do. He had already exceeded his authority by coming here in force, not to mention ordering the search. No doubt he would hear about that later, in response to the official complaint the doddering Elders had declared their intention to file with the Authority. That complaint he could, and would, deal with out of necessity. What galled him was the knowledge that he would have to do so without having accomplished that for which he had risked status and position.

  The day was growing late. Re-forming his small troop, he prepared to take his ungracious leave of the compound, the sight of whose neatly groomed grounds and structures he was rapidly coming to hate as well as merely despise. It was on the way out the main entrance that he was approached by a single nye clad in robes of dark blue tinged with silver.

  “Your pardon, Respected Adminisstrator. I am Yeerkun.”

  “Truly honored,” Takuuna barely grunted in response. He was anxious to be away from this place that had stymied his intentions not once now, but twice.

  “You sseek the ssoftsskin who dwellss among uss.”

  Takuuna halted abruptly enough to kick dust from beneath his sandals as he turned sharply on the artisan who had fallen into step next to him. “That iss hardly a ssecret among your Tier.”

  Yeerkun glanced back toward the compound. No one was following them, no one was watching. Whether the administrator's withdrawal was being tracked or not, he could not tell. It did not matter. He had long since determined to carry out his intent.

  “Until thiss one fell in among uss, I had never sseen a ssoftsskin in the flessh. I knew they were alliess of our enemiess the thranx, and that therefore they are our enemiess as well. But I decided to resserve judgment for mysself. After sseeing the human, and being around it for ssome time now, I have done that.”

  “I ssee.” Takuuna had resumed walking. “And that judgment iss, tssasst?”

  “I do not like it.” The artist executed a sharp, first-degree gesture of distaste mixed with contempt. “I do not like the way it lookss, I do not like the way it ssmells. I do not like the ssound of itss voice, or the dissgussting rippling of itss pulpy flesh, or the flatness of itss face.”

  Takuuna gestured understandingly. “I had desspaired of ever encountering a ssound and mature attitude in thiss forlorn, issolated place. What do you intend to do about your disslike, most valued Yeerkun?”

  The AAnn hissed surreptitiously. “I will take you to where the creature hass been hidden.”

  The administrator managed a stealthy glance backwards. The entrance to and the exterior of the compound were deserted. Since the Tier had known of his coming, it stood to reason they would monitor his departure. He kept walking toward the waiting aircar. As he did so, he sidled closer to the subofficer in charge of the half-dozen troopers.

  “Veteran Chaadikik, who iss your besst sshot?”

  The subofficer motioned one of the troopers to join them. Acknowledging the arrival with a non-degree gesture, Takuuna maintained the pace as he spoke.

  “When we reach the aircar, Trooper Qeengat will join me on the other sside. Ssubofficer Chaadikik, you and the resst of your group will depart. Halfway back to Sskokossass you will find a ssuitable place and make a camp. As ssoon as my bussiness here iss finisshed, I will contact you for pickup.”

  Chaadikik did not look happy. “Are you convinced it iss ssafe to do thiss, Adminisstrator?” She gestured meaningfully in the direction of the compound. “Finding their judgment dissputed, thesse sso-called artissanss may prove dangerouss as well as petulant.”

  Takuuna gestured second-degree confidence. “I am not concerned about the Tier. They can make trouble only with wordss, and thosse do not worry me.” They were almost to the aircar. “Trooper Qeengat, the honorable Yeerkun and I will conceal oursselves in the undergrowth and rockss on the other sside. Once you have departed, I am ssure the place where the vehicle hass been parked will be forgotten and time will ssoon ssee our obsstinate hermitss returning to their mundane daily tasskss.” He glanced at Yeerkun.

  “Can we get to the ssoftsskin without being obsserved by your missguided colleaguess?”

  Yeerkun gestured self-assurance. “It will require ssome roundabout hiking, Honored Adminisstrator, but there iss a circular trail that sshould give uss unsseen access.”

  “Excellent!” They were almost to the aircar. “I want you to know, valued Yeerkun, that your effortss on behalf of the Authority will not be overlooked.”

  The artist hissed tersely. “I am not doing thiss because I sseek advancement, Adminisstrator. The removal of the alien from our midsst will be reward enough for mysself and thosse otherss who quietly sshare my ssentiment.”

  Takuuna was most pleased.

  There were plenty of places to secrete themselves on the far side of the aircar's shielding bulk. After it had departed, they waited for a long timepart before moving. Following in Yeerkun's wake, they loped a good distance to the south of the complex before the artist felt secure in turning west once again. From there they began to descend a series of narrow, hard-to-discern switchback trails that carried them farther and farther into the depths of a certain canyon.

  Nearing their destination, they had to hunker down as two other members of the Tier hurried past on their way back to the compound. Yeerkun was concerned that they might have been seen, but Takuuna was not worried.

  “If we are as closse to the place where the human iss sstaying as you ssay, it will not matter. We will conclude the bussiness before anyone can interfere.”

  Rising from where they had concealed themselves, Yeerkun led them forward. But he added a gesture of third-degree uncertainty. “Thosse two who jusst passed here will have communicatorss with them. The AAnn sstaying with the human will be ssimilarly equipped. They could notify her of our pressence.”

  “If they ssaw us.”

  “Truly—if.” Yeerkun hurried onward, plunging down the side trail as rapidly as he dared.

  Takuuna glanced over at the trooper. He was a stolid type and a typically admirable Imperial soldier: forthright, obedient, well trained, short on original thinking. “You remember, Honorable Trooper Qeengat, what we disscussed earlier? Your insstructionss?”

  “Truly, Honorable Adminisstrator.” He had already unlimbered t
he slim, shimmering rifle that heretofore had been secured against his back.

  “No time musst be wassted. Do not pay any attention to any wordss that may be sspoken. The ssoftsskinss have clever tonguess, and thiss one iss cleverer than mosst.”

  “He will not have the chance to lick hiss eye.” Trooper Qeengat spoke coolly, with complete assurance.

  It was enough for Takuuna. If Yeerkun let on that he understood the administrator's intentions, he chose not to comment on them. More likely, he had not overheard. It would not matter if he had, Takuuna reflected. His principal intent in coming for the human was to ensure that it would never have the opportunity to tell the story of its abandonment in the Jastian wilderness. The administrator had long since determined not to rely on the prospect that the softskin would never recover its memories.

  He was going to make sure that no one else would, either.

  15

  So spectacular, so overwhelming, was the sight of The Confection when Takuuna and his companions entered the main canyon that he momentarily forgot his purpose in coming. Both he and Trooper Qeengat were unable to keep themselves from lingering to stare at the immense enterprise. Reflected beauty nearly blinded them—but not so severely that they failed to see the small shelter that had been built into the far canyon wall.

  “They are in there, Honorable Adminisstrator.” For the last several minutes, Yeerkun had been growing more and more nervous. “As I am ssure you musst understand, desspite my feelingss toward the ssoftsskin, I do not wissh to rissk my possition within the Tier.” He was already backing up. “Therefore, with your permission, I sshould very much dessire to—”