“My career has been put on hold before. It can be put on hold again. My personal situation has changed. And despite knowing better, I find myself romantically entangled.” Her kiss was quick this time, but no less intense. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Flinx. I’m your responsibility now.”
“Wonderful.” He grinned. “Something else to be responsible for.”
Lips pursed invitingly, she exclaimed, “Don’t you ever call me a something again.”
“This is still the courtship ritual?” the thranx murmured to his friend.
Tse-Mallory nodded. “Not atypical, actually.”
“Is he going to impregnate her now?”
“For a member of the hive who has spent as much time around humans as you have, Tru, you still retain a positive ignorance of certain aspects of human behavior.”
“Then would it be impolite to suggest that we get a move on?”
“No. Such a suggestion would be quite in order. Time is always of the essence. After all, we don’t know how many hundreds or thousands of years we have left.”
CHAPTER
16
Her superiors at Ulricam were vocal in their disappointment when she announced that she was taking an extended leave of absence. After all, they insisted, what could possibly be more important than developing the company’s new line of oxytocin-laced cosmetics? Clarity elected not to enlighten them. Knowing corporate executives, she was not sure informing them that the future of the galaxy was at stake would alter their opinion.
Despite Flinx’s assurance that there was ample room on the Teacher, she chose to take very little with her. Scrap rode lightly on her shoulder, unconcerned as to their destination. Coiling around Flinx’s right arm, Pip occasionally snatched a brief, maternal glance at her offspring just to keep track of his location.
“I’ve been on your ship,” Clarity reminded Flinx as they strode through the shuttleport terminal. “Certain conspicuously male nuances aside, it has everything anyone could need.”
“You may not recognize it,” he warned her gently. “I’m always making changes. There’s a central chamber where I go to relax. Sometimes it’s full of waterfalls and trees, sometimes desert. Once, I did a tiny bit of beach and fake ocean. Right now, because I was given some interesting foliage on Midworld, it’s done in rain forest.” He smiled, reminiscing. “I left the parasites out.”
“Must be nice. Most people are lucky if they can afford to regularly change the sims on their walls. But then, most people don’t have their own starships.”
“I told you earlier.” He looked uncomfortable. “I had nothing to do with it. It was a gift.”
“From the Ulru-Ujurrians.” She returned his smile. “I remember. An eccentric bunch of sentients if ever there was one. Wonder what they’re up to now?”
“Probably digging,” he reminded her. “Always digging, as they call it. Making tunnels on their homeworld. Tunnels that do funny things.” He glanced skyward, through the polarized, transparent dome of the concourse ceiling. “As long as we’re wondering, I wonder if they’re aware of what’s coming toward us and if they plan to do anything about it.”
“Why don’t you ask them?”
“I intend to,” he told her. “They might have some good ideas.”
“This ancient weapons platform you visited that has your friends so intrigued. Do you really think you can find it again, and, if so, that it might be powerful enough to actually stop something astronomical in scale?”
“Don’t know,” he admitted. “Can only try. As Truzenzuzex said, right now it’s the best hope we have.” He put his arm around her and drew her close to him. “And you’re the best hope I have.”
She glanced backward. Deep in conversation, Bran Tse-Mallory and Truzenzuzex followed, ignoring the two humans.
“Don’t they ever stop arguing?”
Flinx grinned. “When you want to know everything, you’re constantly asking questions and seeking answers. I’m a lot like them, I think—nosy but not noisy. Don’t worry—there’s lots of room on the Teacher, and plenty of places to find solitude. But you already know that.”
After passing Security, they headed down a hallway for the transfer station where small vehicles were available to convey them below the tarmac and deposit them next to the shuttlecraft from the Teacher. Then a short atmospheric flight and they would be aboard his craft.
The corridor was unoccupied. Very few private shuttlecraft utilized this, the outermost port serving the city of Sphene. Photophilic paint applied in understated decorative patterns provided sufficient light.
Turning down a curve in the corridor, Clarity saw several transfer vehicles waiting. She was just wondering if she had forgotten anything when Flinx halted so abruptly that his arm nearly made her stumble. Tse-Mallory and Truzenzuzex both came up quickly behind them.
“Sr!!ck, what is it, Flinx?” Both of the thranx’s antennae were fully extended, sampling the air, quivering slightly. Tse-Mallory’s eyes scanned every centimeter of the corridor.
“Something.” Flinx’s expression was tight with uncertainty. “There’s something here.”
“You’re reading emotions.” Searching their surroundings, Clarity saw nothing: only empty corridor, transfer vehicles, the decorative lighting and patterns etched on the walls.
“Actually, that’s the problem. I can’t perceive anything specific. It’s like the emotions of others are present but masked somehow.”
Clarity was at once bewildered and concerned. “How do you mask emotions?”
Tse-Mallory responded, “Drugs.”
The corridor exploded in a burst of incandescence. As Flinx pulled Clarity and the thranx with him into an alcove stacked with supplies, Tse-Mallory threw himself in the opposite direction. He and Truzenzuzex drew the small hand weapons they always carried with them: Tse-Mallory two, the thranx two pair. In seconds, answering fire spurted from their six united guns.
Their unknown assailants fired small explosive shells and sonic bursts.
“This won’t do. We’ve got to get out of here!” From his position behind a protruding corridor section seal, Tse-Mallory yelled to his companions huddled in the storage alcove. Even as he spoke, a shell blew away the top of the metal flange of the seal he was crouching behind.
Who were they fighting? The harder Flinx strove to penetrate the emotional masks of their assailants, the murkier his perceptions became. Were they after him or his companions? If it was him, and they had used drugs to disguise their feelings, that implied some knowledge of his unique talent. Inevitably, he thought back to the two people who had attacked him in the air on Goldin IV. Were these the same people? Had they somehow managed to follow him all the way to New Riviera?
But why wait until he was almost ready to depart to attack him again? Would-be assassins had had ample opportunity to take a shot at him in the preceding months. No, this had to be a new set of assailants. But not necessarily different. There could have been collusion between them and those who had struck at him on Goldin IV.
And he still had not the slightest idea who they were.
With their emotional states cloaked, he could not anticipate their actions or influence them. That didn’t stop him from using his own gun. He kept a tight rein on a frantic Pip, and Clarity did likewise with Scrap, since they both knew that in the narrow corridor the flying snakes would have little room to maneuver. Both of them might all too easily be brought down by the concentrated fire.
Retreat was also a dubious proposition. It was a good ten meters to the first bend in the corridor. Even a champion sprinter would find it difficult to negotiate that distance without getting shot.
Tse-Mallory released a burst of defensive fire in the direction of their assailants. “You three run for it! I’ll cover you.”
Truzenzuzex turned to the two humans. “You two go first, ku!isc.”
Flinx shook his head. “We’ll go together, Tru.” Next to him, Clarity nodded forcefully.
The thranx gestured with a truhand. The weapon held in its grasp was compact and exquisite, a deadly jewel birthed in the armaments’ factories of Eurmet.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Flinx. I am a trained soldier. I can lay down four times the firepower you carry, and you are more than tall enough to shoot over me at our assailants, whereas I would feel somewhat inhibited trying to shoot at them between your legs.”
Flinx nodded. “Okay, Clarity and I will make a run for it first, but you come right after us.” Over a short distance, he knew, the thranx could keep up with even long-legged humans.
Truzenzuzex gestured his agreement. “Another metamorphosis to you both, then, and watch your footing.” Had he possessed flexible facial features, he would have smiled encouragingly. “As for myself, thranx never trip.”
Tru exchanged hand signals with Tse-Mallory, who then lay down withering fire across the far end of the corridor. Simultaneously, Truzenzuzex fired all four hand weapons.
Answering fire came immediately. From the other end of the corridor.
Once again, the travelers were compelled to withdraw behind their respective cover.
“Crrskk, that didn’t work.” Truzenzuzex was upset. “If they’re behind us as well as in front of us, we are in a very bad position indeed.”
Clarity took a cautious glance back up the passageway. “They’re still firing.”
“I can hear that.” Flinx’s concern and confusion made him irritable.
“Maybe so—but what you can’t tell is that they’re not firing at us.”
“What?” Keeping one hand tight on Pip, Flinx peered back. The majority of the intense fire pouring down the corridor was directed toward their unknown assailants. Only an occasional burst was aimed at them.
“This makes no sense.” Truzenzuzex’s golden compound eyes were close to Flinx’s face. In the confined space, his scent was almost overpowering. “Can you get a sense of these newcomers, Flinx, or are their emotions shrouded like the others?”
Half closing his eyes, sonic bubbles and explosive bullets bursting all around him, Flinx let his perception range outward. Almost immediately, he identified apprehension, determination, a sense of duty, and professional pride, a combination that painted a familiar pattern. “I think they’re Commonwealth peaceforcers,” he announced.
Clarity’s own emotions leaped in his mind. “Come to stop the fight!”
“Perhaps,” observed Truzenzuzex, “or to take Philip Lynx into custody.” Sensitive antennae bobbed. “It may be that we find ourselves in the middle of a three-way fight. Believing themselves to be under attack by these new arrivals, our assailants are shooting back at them. The peaceforcers naturally respond. Meanwhile, both groups may be looking to incapacitate us.”
“How do you win a three-way fight?” Flinx jumped as the dull thwock of a sonic bubble dented the corridor wall beyond his head.
“By allying yourself with the stronger third to overwhelm the weaker and then hoping to defeat your temporary collaborator afterward,” the thranx explained, “or by letting them beat each other while you pull back. We’ve been granted, if not a reprieve, at least a momentary distraction. We need to make use of it.”
He commenced a thorough examination of their immediate surroundings and they found the service hatch in the ceiling of the storage niche. A small ladder, clearly designed for human feet, was welded to the wall. Flinx saw that he and Clarity could help Truzenzuzex up it and through the hatch.
First they had to see if the hatch would open.
It was secured with a professional, commercial electronic lock, but Flinx had it opened in less than two minutes. When the hatch cover motored silently aside, they found themselves doused with cloud-shrouded sunshine. Flinx poked his head through the opening and made his way up the ladder. When he leaped back down moments later to rejoin his friends, he was smiling.
“We’re under the tarmac. I can see my shuttle! It’s a short sprint away.” Holding up his right arm, he showed them the decorative universal control bracelet on his wrist. “I’ll signal the shuttle to be ready to leave as soon as we’re on board.” He looked down the corridor that continued to ring with the exchange of fire. “Tru, tell Bran to come over.”
During a pause in the exchange of gunfire, Tse-Mallory dashed into the alcove. “Excellent. We can leave both groups of gun-happy disputants to sort matters out among themselves.”
“They’re all hunkered down.” Clarity had crawled to the edge of the storage alcove to check both sets of combatants. “I think they’re too occupied with each other right now to worry about stopping us from leaving.”
“Likely don’t yet realize that we can. We’d better not linger.” Tse-Mallory started up the ladder.
A large explosion behind them signified that someone had decided to begin using heavier ordnance. The concussion rang in Flinx’s ears. He’d send Clarity and Scrap up next. Turning, he reached for her hand. His breath caught in his throat and his heart missed a beat.
She was sitting, dazed, on the floor, staring at him. Scrap fluttered anxiously above her, rising and falling. The last big explosion had evidently knocked her off her feet.
“Clarity, what’s wrong?” Beyond being momentarily stunned, she looked all right to him.
“I think—I think I’m hurt.”
“Where?” he asked immediately. He could see nothing wrong. Then Scrap landed on his unoccupied shoulder and he knew that something was. The minidrag would not perch on anyone else unless his master was injured.
“Not sure,” she muttered uncertainly. “My back, maybe. Feels a little funny.”
Truzenzuzex was whistling anxiously for them to hurry.
“Just a minute!” Flinx shouted above the continuing roar of weapons fire. Leaning around Clarity, he saw the entire back of her jumpsuit was gone, along with much of her skin. He couldn’t tell how deep the wound was because there was so much blood. He felt as if someone had slipped a garrote around his throat and was rapidly tightening it.
“Bran, Tru!” he yelled. “Clarity,” he told her gently, “you’ve been hit. I don’t know if it was combustive shrapnel, or what, but it looks—bad.”
The two scholars were at his side in an instant. Flinx could see the severity of Clarity’s injury reflected in Tse-Mallory’s expression.
“Not good. Not good at all.”
Fatal? Flinx wanted to say. He found he couldn’t even whisper it.
Truzenzuzex was tearing at his backpack with both foothands. The two sensitive truhands were exploring Clarity’s wounds. “Not fatal. Not if she receives proper medical attention in time.”
“She’s going into shock.” Pulling off his jacket, Tse-Mallory wrapped it over the uninjured front of her body. Immediately, blood began to stain the edges.
Truzenzuzex pulled at what looked like a weapon. “Hold her,” he snapped in terse terranglo. Flinx crouched in front of Clarity and gripped her shoulders firmly in both hands. Had he not, she would have fallen over. Her eyes were unfocused now, the lids fluttering.
Truzenzuzex glanced at the watching Scrap. Perceiving that the thranx’s intentions were wholly benign, the minidrag stayed coiled around Flinx’s neck and made no move to interfere. Truzenzuzex activated the pistol-like device, and a white mist spewed from its nozzle. She moaned as the thranx methodically played the spray back and forth over her bloodied, torn back until the device was empty.
Flinx saw that her back was now sheathed in a rapidly congealing shiny gray substance that looked like translucent plastic. Her head had slumped forward and her eyes were now closed.
“Synthetic chitin,” the thranx explained, “for bandaging injured thranx, not humans. But it’s calcium-based, hypoallergenic, and will bind to the bits of exposed bone long enough to get her to a proper medical facility where it can be removed with the appropriate solvent. Until then, it will staunch the remaining bleeding and prevent infection.” He eyed Flinx closely. “But I won’t lie to you. There are deep wounds and, as near as
my knowledge of human physiology can tell, a very real possibility of serious internal injuries.”
“In other words,” Tse-Mallory added, “if we don’t get her to a surgeon, she’s likely to die.”
“Then let’s get her to one.” A grim-faced Flinx indicated the hatchway.
Tse-Mallory put a restraining hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “I saw her wounds, too, Flinx. My knowledge of human anatomy is a little more comprehensive than Tru’s. I’m telling you straight—we can’t go hauling her up a wall and across open tarmac. She needs hemoglu, serum, antibiotics, and a suspension gurney that will hold her steady while she’s moved. Or . . .”
“Or,” Flinx pressed him over the whine and thunder of continuing gunfire.
“Or any severe jolting movement—no matter how careful we try to be with her and in spite of Tru’s fast work in closing her up—is liable to stop her heart.”
Flinx sat there, still holding the unconscious Clarity upright, surrounded by friends and yet, as usual, all alone. He had finally found someone to be with. Someone he could love and, just as important, talk to freely. Someone to share the lonely moments in the empty spaces between worlds. And it looked as if it was all going to be taken away from him.
But not permanently, he vowed. Not permanently.
“Hospital.” His whisper was barely audible as Pip worriedly caressed his cheek with her pointed tongue.
Tse-Mallory nodded and pulled a com unit from his belt. “The peaceforcers will be communicating on a secure closed signal. We’ll have to contact them via a shuttleport frequency. When I explain who Tru and I are and what our situation here is, we’ll be able to turn Clarity over to them.”
Flinx’s gaze came up so sharply and was so intense that even the normally unflappable Tse-Mallory was startled. “We’re not ‘turning her over’ to anybody.” He looked at Truzenzuzex. “If they’re after the first group that started shooting at us there’d be no problem. But as you said, they may be after me.”
Flinx's Folly Page 22
