denser undergrowth, they moved in a half crouch, ducking around trees and snagging themselves on vines, losing all sense of direction.
They stopped to get their bearings and catch then-breath. Alacrity tucked something into his pocket, but Floyt was too winded and too concerned about being burnt to charcoal to ask what. Alacrity peeped around a lolling, paravaned leviathan tree.
Marcus was bellowing, not far off. "Vinzix! Over this way!" Albrecht translated at high decibels.
Floyt was all for running. But Alacrity stopped him, tugging him into a niche further up in the folds of the enormous roots. To Floyt's mind that was a sure way of getting cornered, and yet Alacrity was insistent. They silently found a crouching place, peering down on a nearby clearing. Vinzix bounded into it from one side, looking all around, the boomerang held ready.
Lord Marcus entered from the other side, the pulsing sheaf of a dart-spread in his gauntleted fist, arm reared back for a release. The two onlookers felt a lot of tiny things crawling around on the bark and in the humus beneath them, but kept absolutely still.
Floyt waited for Marcus or Vinzix to spot their prey, or Albrecht, who trailed along after Marcus, to detect them somehow. Floyt had heard about "the smell of fear" and always thought it a literary convention until he started traveling with Alacrity. Now, once again, he smelled it pouring from himself, from every pore, a thick reek that he was sure those below would catch, an acid stench that made him even more frightened.
"Where have they gone?" Marcus called to the Dar. Albrecht rasped the translation, which sounded rather short and curt.
Vinzix's head swung to Marcus, the pointy-toothed mouth opening to hiss something fierce in answer.
Albrecht piped to Marcus, "Stub-toothed groveler! Cease thy pulings, or I shall burn out thy sphincter as well as theirs!"
Alacrity grinned in triumph.
"Wh-what?" stuttered Marcus, disbelieving. "How's that again?"
Vinzix sounded like ice on a hot skillet. Albrecht rendered it as rage. "Address me with proper file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...y%20-%20Fall%20of%20the%20White%20Ship%20Avatar.htm (54 of 242)23-2-2006 17:03:12
[Fitzhugh 3]-FALL OF THE WHITE SHIP AVATAR
reverence, despised sublife! Use the respect you owe a noble of Darwin's Star, pallid vermin! I ought to smite you and give you over to the Pain Guild!"
Floyt couldn't grasp exactly what was going on until he stole a quick glance at Alacrity, who was holding up the protocol augmentation module he'd snatched from Albrecht's translating gear.
Floyt saw it all: Why, they're getting literal translations now! For the first time, Albrecht's not greasing the wheels!
"Now, just a moment, Vinzix, old man," fumbled Marcus as dutiful Albrecht kept up the translation.
"Are you threatening me? I'll remind you that you're my partner, my junior partner; let's have no more of that talk! We've got more serious things to—"
"Partner?" Albrecht screamed as Vinzix hopped from foot to foot. "Junior? You dare speak so to one of the Master Species? Compulsive defiler of public comfort stations!"
Alacrity looked to Floyt with raised eyebrows and a nod of satisfaction. He'd said the Dars were the abrasive sort.
Lord Marcus's face was going magenta, eyes bulging. He shook his sheaf of Jovian darts. "Of all the impertinent, misbegotten heathen upstarts!"
"Aii!" Vinzix's nasal flaps were rolling up and down and his pupils appeared to be spinning in tight circles. Albrecht conscientiously did his best to put across the exact flavor of the Dar's spirited retort.
"You contemptible little subcreature! I have aberrant sex with your deity! I treat the gametes of your aunties as I would soil samples!"
"You, you what ?" Marcus demanded, outraged but confused.
"And I laugh at your mother's ungainliness and place noxious elements in the fetish nooks of your elected representatives!"
Marcus stuttered and burbled a bit, trying to
They stopped to get their bearings and catch then-breath. Alacrity tucked something into his pocket, but Floyt was too winded and too concerned about being burnt to charcoal to ask what. Alacrity peeped around a lolling, paravaned leviathan tree.
Marcus was bellowing, not far off. "Vinzix! Over this way!" Albrecht translated at high decibels.
Floyt was all for running. But Alacrity stopped him, tugging him into a niche further up in the folds of the enormous roots. To Floyt's mind that was a sure way of getting cornered, and yet Alacrity was insistent. They silently found a crouching place, peering down on a nearby clearing. Vinzix bounded into it from one side, looking all around, the boomerang held ready.
Lord Marcus entered from the other side, the pulsing sheaf of a dart-spread in his gauntleted fist, arm reared back for a release. The two onlookers felt a lot of tiny things crawling around on the bark and in the humus beneath them, but kept absolutely still.
Floyt waited for Marcus or Vinzix to spot their prey, or Albrecht, who trailed along after Marcus, to detect them somehow. Floyt had heard about "the smell of fear" and always thought it a literary convention until he started traveling with Alacrity. Now, once again, he smelled it pouring from himself, from every pore, a thick reek that he was sure those below would catch, an acid stench that made him even more frightened.
"Where have they gone?" Marcus called to the Dar. Albrecht rasped the translation, which sounded rather short and curt.
Vinzix's head swung to Marcus, the pointy-toothed mouth opening to hiss something fierce in answer.
Albrecht piped to Marcus, "Stub-toothed groveler! Cease thy pulings, or I shall burn out thy sphincter as well as theirs!"
Alacrity grinned in triumph.
"Wh-what?" stuttered Marcus, disbelieving. "How's that again?"
Vinzix sounded like ice on a hot skillet. Albrecht rendered it as rage. "Address me with proper file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...y%20-%20Fall%20of%20the%20White%20Ship%20Avatar.htm (54 of 242)23-2-2006 17:03:12
[Fitzhugh 3]-FALL OF THE WHITE SHIP AVATAR
reverence, despised sublife! Use the respect you owe a noble of Darwin's Star, pallid vermin! I ought to smite you and give you over to the Pain Guild!"
Floyt couldn't grasp exactly what was going on until he stole a quick glance at Alacrity, who was holding up the protocol augmentation module he'd snatched from Albrecht's translating gear.
Floyt saw it all: Why, they're getting literal translations now! For the first time, Albrecht's not greasing the wheels!
"Now, just a moment, Vinzix, old man," fumbled Marcus as dutiful Albrecht kept up the translation.
"Are you threatening me? I'll remind you that you're my partner, my junior partner; let's have no more of that talk! We've got more serious things to—"
"Partner?" Albrecht screamed as Vinzix hopped from foot to foot. "Junior? You dare speak so to one of the Master Species? Compulsive defiler of public comfort stations!"
Alacrity looked to Floyt with raised eyebrows and a nod of satisfaction. He'd said the Dars were the abrasive sort.
Lord Marcus's face was going magenta, eyes bulging. He shook his sheaf of Jovian darts. "Of all the impertinent, misbegotten heathen upstarts!"
"Aii!" Vinzix's nasal flaps were rolling up and down and his pupils appeared to be spinning in tight circles. Albrecht conscientiously did his best to put across the exact flavor of the Dar's spirited retort.
"You contemptible little subcreature! I have aberrant sex with your deity! I treat the gametes of your aunties as I would soil samples!"
"You, you what ?" Marcus demanded, outraged but confused.
"And I laugh at your mother's ungainliness and place noxious elements in the fetish nooks of your elected representatives!"
Marcus stuttered and burbled a bit, trying to
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