Flinx's Folly by Alan Dean Foster Page B

public to enjoy.” She paused to point out a miniature carpet of deep blue stem-flowers that hummed whenever they were vibrated by a passing breeze. They were as perfect and delicate as the takari were tall and robust. “This,” she informed him, “is why nobody on New Riviera gives flowers to mark an occasion. There’s nothing special about them, and anyone who wants some can step outside and pick what they like, even in the middle of a city like Soothal or Nelaxis.”
    “You flatter them more than they you,” he commented.
    Her expression turned mischievous. “Now, what book did you pull that out of?” She was not displeased, he believed. That was one thing he had observed about women in the course of his journeys. Where their personal appearance was concerned, there wasn’t one who did not prefer to hear a clever artifice as opposed to an unbecoming truth. In this, Clarity was no different.
    “It’s true,” he insisted.
    “Bill wouldn’t like to hear you say so.”
    If she was trying to draw him into a reaction by mentioning her paramour, she failed. At least, his expression did not change. He kept his attention focused on the magical landscape, asking the name of this tree and that bush, wanting to know the taxonomy of the variety of small furry things that darted and hopped out of their way whenever they approached. From time to time the pair of flying snakes would dart down to ensure that their respective masters were doing well before resuming their antics in the treetops.
    “Where are we going?” He looked over at her. “Do you have some destination in mind or are we just rambling?”
    “A little of both,” she informed him. “Another hour’s walk and we’ll be someplace.” With one hand, she gestured back the way they had come. “I’d like to get away from the other tourists, wouldn’t you?”
    Flinx was more than agreeable. The more privacy they had, the better he liked it. If only this sort of thing was as easy for him as it was for her. She could look around and see only forest and flowers, but he could not keep from picking up the nakedly broadcast emotions of every other wilderness hiker within kilometers. It wasn’t that he wanted to. He simply had no choice in the matter.
    But she was as true as her word. The longer they walked and the farther they were from the transport line terminus, the fewer and fainter were human feelings he was able to perceive. It was not the total emotional silence of free space, but it was mentally much quieter than the emotional pandemonium of a city.
    The sun was still rising when they reached the lake. Having tired themselves playing among the blossoms, and somewhat bloated from having tasted more than a few of the sweet-smelling blooms, both minidrags had long since returned to their perches on their masters’ shoulders.
    Like the forest, the lake and its surroundings appeared so perfect as to have almost been landscaped instead of naturally formed. Set in a depression between rolling hills thickly carpeted with flower trees, the lake was supplied by a pair of small waterfalls rushing downward from opposing gullies.
    Clarity pointed northward. “There are three larger lakes off that way. They’re closer to the transport terminus and have extensive beaches, so that’s where nearly everyone goes.” She smiled. “Remembering how you are, I thought you’d prefer privacy to convenience.”
    “Actually, I like both,” he told her. One hand absently stroked the back of Pip’s head. “I usually don’t find either. Given the choice, though, I do prefer the former.”
    Predictably, the water was just cool enough to be refreshing. Given the care with which the inhabitants of Nur looked after their environment, he wasn’t surprised to find that it was also potable. Lying on his back floating on the surface, he ignored the tiny, questioning touches against his body that were made by curious lake dwellers. None of them were dangerous, Clarity assured