Toc238718017” class=“calibre9” id=“Toc238718017”>

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 lowlying 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.”

Kiijeem was momentarily confused. “Not doing what?”

“Dying.” Straining to see past the landscaping off to his right, Flinx peered in the direction of the main residence. “I wouldn’t want that to happen to you.”

“Not to worry on that sscore.” To emphasize his confidence, the crouching AAnn smacked the ground twice with his tail. “Sshould sserious conflict arisse between uss, I can alwayss turn you in to the authoritiess.”

It was a characteristic AAnn trait, Flinx knew well, to be direct to the point of tactlessness.

“Truly you could,” he admitted dryly. “But it is my hope that you and I might foster a friendship similar to the one I formed on Jast.”

“Time will reveal,” Kiijeem told his guest, as straightforward as ever. “For the moment I sstill find you far too interessting to ssacrifice.” Underlying his enthusiasm, the tip of his tail kept flicking from side to side. And according to his emotions, Flinx sensed a suggestion of thrill. No doubt from the danger inherent in being so intimate with one of his species’ traditional adversaries.

Fine, Flinx decided. Keep the youngster interested, keep him involved, and he will be far less inclined to reveal his visitor’s presence.

Kiijeem’s inquisitiveness was as unbounded as his boldness. Adjusting his stance and settling into an ever-lower crouch while utilizing his tail for balance, he used his long, narrow, flexible tongue to clean the outer membrane of first one eye and then the other.

“Tell me about humankind. I know more of the thranx becausse my people have had longer contact with them. But where humanss are concerned, the information available iss less extenssive. I have sseen how you eat. How can you chew with your jawss insside your sskull? As you walk, don’t thosse protruding external earss catch on thingss? You sstand perfectly sstraight: how do your kneess handle the consstant pressure?” Leaning to one side, he tried to see behind his guest. “And by the Great Egg, I cannot fathom how your kind can sstand upright, much less run, in the abssence of a tail to provide sstability.”

“Well, to a large extent that has to do with how our internal ears are made,” Flinx began.

In the days that followed he educated his young host not only in the particulars of human physiology, but in the art, music, theater, science, and sociology of his species, as well as the history of the Commonwealth. Hailing from a culture in which aggressive behavior was prized, expected, and rewarded, Kiijeem took a special interest in Flinx’s description of pre-Amalgamation intra-human wars.

“Thesse taless of your once planet-bound sspeciess are very different from thosse of the dissgusstingly placid thranx, and do not ssound sso very different from what I have learned of my own kind and itss drive to make the leap out into intersstellar sspace. Though I am sstill young and have no experience of ssuch thingss, it sseemss to me that your kind and mine may have more in common than you do with the repellent hardsshellss. Yet you are alliess with them and not with uss.”

Flinx had to smile. “Are you sure you’re not preparing for a career in the Imperial diplomatic corps?”

“I have not yet chossen a life pace,” Kiijeem confessed. A slight pressure on the end of his spine caused him to look down and back. Having coiled around his tail, Pip was playing with the twitching tip.

“She likes you,” Flinx told his host. “You should be flattered. She usually doesn’t take quickly to strangers.”

Kiijeem turned back to the human. While the absence of a tail had many disadvantages, there was one clear benefit. The softskin could sit on any surface, in any position, without the risk of damage to the smallest of his vertebrae.

“Her epidermiss iss very ssimilar to that of my kind. I feel that sshe ssenssess a kinsship.”

“I’m sure that she does,” Flinx agreed. But if you try to hurt me, superficial similarities notwithstanding, she’ll kill you without a second’s hesitation. He did not voice the caution. Despite his deepening camaraderie with the young AAnn, there was nothing to be gained by filling him in on every little detail.

It was getting late. Or rather, early. Soon the sun would be up. Kiijeem straightened his body, rising up out of his resting crouch, his tail stiffening behind him. “Thesse passt dayss and the captivating time I have sspent in your company have enabled me to come to a decission.”

Flinx tensed slightly, readying himself for whatever might come. “Truly, it is always constructive when one comes to a decision.”

Both optical membranes were withdrawn as the youth looked over at him. “My decission iss—that I am not afraid of you any longer.”

Flinx relaxed. “That’s a good decision to come to.” Extending an arm, he indicated the landscaped surroundings where he had spent the past week in comparative safety and comfort. “For my part, I have to point out that as agreeable as our meetings and conversations have been, we both know they can’t continue forever. I’ve already spent more time here than I intended—and that has been because of you. I’m not complaining, mind—knowledge has been passed in both directions. But now …” Using both hands he executed a first-degree gesture of urgency. “Now I am truly compelled to move onward because of matters that lie beyond my control. It’s time for me to leave.”

Kiijeem eyed his guest speculatively. “You are expected ssomewhere elsse? You do not sstrike me as the type of individual who fretss over a missed appointment.”

“The appointment I have to keep,” Flinx replied solemnly, “involves the future of your kind as well as mine. As well as everyone’s.” How to describe his situation to this youthful representative of another species? How to convey even a hint of the seriousness, the weight, the overwhelming burden that life and circumstance had placed on his shoulders? Should he even try? If he tried, would his explanation make any sense? And if it did, what were the chances of it being believed? Better to keep his reasoning nonspecific and ill-defined.

“All I can tell you, Kiijeem, is that for the sake of the Commonwealth and the Empire, I must be allowed to return to my ship.”

His host considered. His response, when it was finally forthcoming, was not encouraging. “I have been able to keep you ssafe here becausse my family iss highly resspected, elevated in sstatuss, and dwellss on property that iss professionally ssecured.” A clawed hand gestured toward the distant, night-shadowed fence line. “But once you are beyond the family boundariess you will once again rissk attracting the notice of Imperial Ssecurity and find yoursself ssubject to public ssearching.”

Flinx gestured over at his now thoroughly aired-out simsuit. “I passed secretly and safely among you for a full teverravak. I can do so again. I only need to keep my identity a secret long enough to get out of the city. I’ve prearranged a location with my ship. It’s situated well outside the city, in a locality infrequently visited by locals. A place where a fast-moving shuttle can touch down just long enough to make an unauthorized pickup. By the time its vector has been detected and analyzed by Planetary Security, I’ll be back on board my vessel and safely on my way outsystem.”

“A heartening sscenario,” Kiijeem conceded, “but one I mysself conssider unlikely. While one of my age knowss but little of how Planetary Ssecurity workss, I do know that likenessess of your ssimulated sself have been widely dissperssed and viewed on all formss of general media for the passt sseveral dayss.” He indicated the rock crevice where Flinx had been storing the carefully folded simsuit. “The appearance of your AAnn perssona at any time would quickly trigger an active ressponsse.” Using a clawed hand to trace a diagram in the air, the youth made a sign indicative of supplementary third-degree mirth.

“The narration accompanying thesse portrayalss of your dissguissed sself hass often verged on the pretentiouss. The continued inability of the authoritiess to trace the origin of ‘the myssteriouss forger and accomplisshed currency thief,’ as you have been desscribed, hass provided a perssisstent albeit minor sstory line for the sseriouss media.” Kiijeem expelled a series of rising hisses that constituted laughter among his kind. “I cannot imagine the hyssterical reaction that would enssue if they had any idea what you really are.”

Flinx mulled his young friend’s observations. “I think I still might be able to slip out of the city, especially if I travel at night. But I can’t argue the fundamentals of this with you, Kiijeem. If my AAnn image has indeed been disseminated widely among the general public, any movement on my part is going to entail a real risk.” He studied the young nye thoughtfully. “You could smuggle me out in a vehicle.”

“I would have to produce a ssuitable explanation as to why I would need the private usse of a family transsport.” The youth did not immediately reject the idea. “The vehicle’ss progress would be tracked. If your dessired landing location iss as remote as you ssuggesst, quesstionss would be raissed as to what I wass doing there.” Vertical violet pupils met Flinx’s steady gaze. “Given ssuch aid you might indeed make your esscape, ssoftsskin. But I would be left behind to deal with the awkward queriess that would inevitably follow. If your true identity wass ssubssequently learned, ssuch a revelation could mean not only the end of my prosspectss but of my life. And worsse sstill, immensse loss of sstatuss to my family.” He hesitated. “But if you believe it iss the only way …”

“No,” Flinx told him bluntly. “I won’t chance it on that basis, Kiijeem. I’ve spent much of the past couple of years trying to decide if my own kind is worth the sacrifice of my own future and happiness. If I were to ask you to risk yours, I could never justify preserving my own.” He punctuated his decision with a first-degree gesture signifying concordance.

“Sstrange.” His age notwithstanding, Kiijeem turned unexpectedly philosophical. “I offer to take ssuch a rissk for you, and your ressponsse iss to refusse it becausse it would imperil me. If thiss were to be known, you would gain sstatuss among my kind.”

Flinx muttered a reply. “I already suffer from more status than I’d like to have, thanks.”

Kiijeem was not sure he understood this response. He felt he was incapable of grasping the proper context. In any case, he did not push for a more extensive explanation. It was enough to realize that the softskin would not put him at risk even in order to advance his own ends. It confirmed what Kiijeem had come to believe: this was not the human of his studies. No matter how hostile or threatening the others of his species might be, it was clear that there was sufficient individual variance to allow for one whose thoughts and actions were, in their slightly twisted way, almost nyelike.

“I’ll have to try and get back to the pickup point the same way I left it,” Flinx was telling him. “By making use of public transportation.” Looking to his left, he eyed the folded simsuit where it lay waiting in its crevice. “I can’t modify the face—the suit material was formed in a single piece. But maybe I can disguise it somehow. At least enough to prevent immediate identification by roving automatics.” A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. “A pity your kind doesn’t wear hats.”

Kiijeem patiently indicated fourth-degree ignorance. “What iss a ‘hat’?”

Flinx passed a hand over his red hair. “An item of clothing designed to cover the head.”

“Why would one want to cover one’s head?”

“Well, for one thing, to keep the sun off.”

“Why would you want to keep the ssun off your head?” Instead of being enlightened, Kiijeem found himself more confused than ever.

Flinx sighed as Pip glided down to land softly in his lap. Absently, he stroked the back of her head and upper body as she curled up against him. “My kind can suffer if the head is exposed to too much sun.”

“What a sstrange concept.” Every time the softskin said something, Kiijeem learned something new about this alien species. “We welcome the ssun on our headss.”

“It’s really not the sun I need to block, but my bogus reptilian visage.” From a distance Flinx continued to study the folds of his disguise. “What I need is the AAnn equivalent of a chameleon suit. Even if you could get hold of one for me, I probably couldn’t make it fit right.” He chewed worriedly on his lower lip. “There has to be some way to hide my face.”

Kiijeem had a thought. “Perhapss if your face wass bandaged up, as if you had been in a sseriouss accident.”

Flinx considered the notion for several moments before finally shaking his head. Kiijeem had come to learn that among softskins, this odd side-to-side motion was a simplistic indication of negativity.

“Good thought,” Flinx told his young friend. “Your kind are sufficiently private so that no one would be likely to pry about the cause of the bandaging. But what about one of your publicans, those who are employed by the state to aid citizens in distress? I can’t have a solicitous health professional inquiring about my ‘condition,’ no matter how caring their intentions. All it would take is for one specialist to have a close look at my simsuit and my subterfuge would be exposed.”

“That iss sso.” Kiijeem slumped. “I had not thought of that.”

“We’ll think of something,” Flinx assured his young friend. “What we have to do is come up with a list of possibilities and winnow them down to the least inauspicious.”

As an assessment of available options intended to save his life, it was a conclusion decidedly lacking in optimism.