Running from the Deity by Alan Dean Foster

though its volume and intensity had surprised her. Rushing from the house toward the barn, she mentally complimented her mate on the veracity of his screams—until she saw his leg. Before she could even think to prevent it, or modify it, a mix of sympathy and admiration flowed out to him. Since their Sensitives were not in contact, Ebbanai didn’t receive it.
    Flinx did. It puzzled him. What, exactly, was the native female feeling? Compassion for her injured mate, certainly. But he was picking up indications of something else. Something almost contradictory. It made no sense.
    He had no time to analyze it. There was no ambivalence about his own emotions. He felt terrible. His friendly, obliging host had been seriously injured while taking time to accommodate the wishes of his guest. Flinx eyed Pip disapprovingly. The flying snake was not intelligent enough to understand what, if anything, had gone awry. She had no sense of having done anything wrong. She perceived only that her master was unhappy with her. Fluttering above all the sudden activity, she did not know what to do except stay out of the way.
    A detailed examination of her mate’s second right foreleg was not required to tell Storra what had happened. “It’s broken,” she announced immediately. Given the unexpected extent of the injury, she did not have to fake surprise. “How did this happen, Ebbanai?”
    Through pain considerably greater than that which he had expected to have to experience, Ebbanai grimaced at her. His prepared speech fell by the wayside as he found himself speaking the actual truth, as opposed to the one he and his mate had so carefully rehearsed.
    “I was working with three when our friend’s pet dove down and startled me. It caused me to kick ijv-three’s back legs, which upset it, and in trying to get away it stepped on me.”
    Flinx looked on anxiously. “Is there anything I can do?”
    This was going to be easier than they had planned, Storra thought—except for the fact that Ebbanai’s leg actually was broken, instead of merely strained as they had intended.
    “Our business requires my presence in the city tomorrow.” All four forearms indicated her collapsed, injured mate. “But I can’t leave Ebbanai alone like this.” She turned what she hoped were soulful, pleading eyes on their alien guest. “I know you intended to leave us very soon, but if you could see your way to remaining for just another few days, to watch over Ebbanai, I could successfully conclude our business in town and return to take up his care.”
    It was not the kind of request Flinx had expected. “By offering to help, I meant with his actual injury. I have a device called a beam-healer that promotes a body’s ability to repair itself, by encouraging the increased production of calcium, and...”
    Seeing that they were staring at him uncomprehendingly, he trailed off. Anyway, while the beam-healer could to a certain extent be adjusted, he would first have to analyze the composition of Dwarran bone before it could be recalibrated to the appropriate setting. Dwarran skeletal structure might incorporate more silicon and less calcium than human bone, for example, in which case stimulating the injured area to produce more calcium might do more harm than good.
    Just hanging around for another couple of days would not require the serious recalibration of anything but his travel plans, which were themselves in a state of flux. While he did not warm to the idea, there were still things here to be learned, and acquiescing to the request would be comparatively painless. After all they had done for him, openly and without complaint, he could hardly refuse such a simple request.
    If only the feelings he was perceiving were less ambiguous. There was no mistaking the authenticity of poor Ebbanai’s injury and the emotions that flowed from him. But the more the three of them talked, especially Storra, the more Flinx sensed an underlying current of eagerness that