seemed at odds with his host’s undeniable pain and discomfort.
Still, a request was a request, and a simple one at that. If all they wanted from him was a little of his time, that he could certainly spare.
“I don’t know how I can be of much help around here, but if that’s what you want me to do...”
A demonstrably excited Storra came toward him, started to dip her Sensitives toward his forehead, remembered that he did not possess the pertinent appendages, and stood back. “It will allow us to continue business with our waiting contacts in Metrel. I will be back in less than three days’ time, I promise. Meanwhile, Ebbanai can tell you what to do to keep things functioning here.” Four forearms reached out to him expectantly. Choosing a pair of gripping flanges at random, he grasped them politely.
“I can’t tell you how much this will help us, friend Flinx.” Ebbanai spoke through the throbbing pain in his leg. “With your assistance, nothing need go undone here while Storra is in the city.”
Flinx nodded absently. It was clear he was going to learn more about collecting the liquid bounty produced by baryeln and the process and procedures required to support it than he had ever anticipated.
Overhead, Pip remained puzzled and confused. But if her master was now at ease, there was no reason why she should be otherwise. Settling herself across his left arm and shoulder, she warily eyed the barn’s two other sentients. She could perceive they meant neither her nor her master any harm.
But that did not mean she had to like them.
Time spent at the homestead in Ebbanai’s company passed swiftly, thanks to Flinx’s insatiable curiosity and his host’s willingness, even eagerness, to satisfy it. In return, Flinx used the medical instrumentation he always carried with him to perform the necessary analysis of Ebbanai’s bone structure and consequent injury. As it developed, the beam-healer did not require much adjustment to speed the healing of Dwarran bone. Watching an injury that would normally take eight-days to heal rapidly repair itself, Ebbanai’s astonishment knew no bounds.
“How is this possible?” The native was standing in resting pose just inside the barn, his upper torso sunk partway into the lower and supported by his three undamaged forelegs. In the cool shade, with a light, crisp breeze blowing intermittently outside, he had leaned back against the wall to examine the bandage-wrapped injured member. “It must be some kind of magic!”
“Not magic.” Standing nearby watching a pair of baryeln lap up the moist plant mash Ebbanai had just dumped in their stalls, Flinx idly stroked the back of Pip’s head with one hand as he spoke. “Science.”
Gingerly, Ebbanai set his second right foreleg down and put a little weight on it. Normally, it would have been another couple of eight-days before he could have done so. Thanks to the ministrations of the alien and his mysterious devices and mendicants, after only a couple of days of treatment the limb could now provide the first underpinnings of support.
“I’ve heard of science. There are many who believe in it, especially the builders of the new factories and the sailoring merchants who are always looking for safer and faster ways to cross the seas. Equally, there are others who prefer to rely on the old ways and beseech the assistance of spirits and gods. And there are some, not wishing to take chances, who implore the help of both.”
Flinx nodded understandingly. His host’s description of Dwarran society placed it well within its exploratory Commonwealth classification. “My people have come to rely on science to explain the natural cosmos. In time, so will yours.” He did not add,
If they survive the necessary difficult social adjustments that affect all such sentient species at such critical times.
Ebbanai took an experimental step with his treated foreleg, marveling at its unnaturally restored strength. “If such
Still, a request was a request, and a simple one at that. If all they wanted from him was a little of his time, that he could certainly spare.
“I don’t know how I can be of much help around here, but if that’s what you want me to do...”
A demonstrably excited Storra came toward him, started to dip her Sensitives toward his forehead, remembered that he did not possess the pertinent appendages, and stood back. “It will allow us to continue business with our waiting contacts in Metrel. I will be back in less than three days’ time, I promise. Meanwhile, Ebbanai can tell you what to do to keep things functioning here.” Four forearms reached out to him expectantly. Choosing a pair of gripping flanges at random, he grasped them politely.
“I can’t tell you how much this will help us, friend Flinx.” Ebbanai spoke through the throbbing pain in his leg. “With your assistance, nothing need go undone here while Storra is in the city.”
Flinx nodded absently. It was clear he was going to learn more about collecting the liquid bounty produced by baryeln and the process and procedures required to support it than he had ever anticipated.
Overhead, Pip remained puzzled and confused. But if her master was now at ease, there was no reason why she should be otherwise. Settling herself across his left arm and shoulder, she warily eyed the barn’s two other sentients. She could perceive they meant neither her nor her master any harm.
But that did not mean she had to like them.
Time spent at the homestead in Ebbanai’s company passed swiftly, thanks to Flinx’s insatiable curiosity and his host’s willingness, even eagerness, to satisfy it. In return, Flinx used the medical instrumentation he always carried with him to perform the necessary analysis of Ebbanai’s bone structure and consequent injury. As it developed, the beam-healer did not require much adjustment to speed the healing of Dwarran bone. Watching an injury that would normally take eight-days to heal rapidly repair itself, Ebbanai’s astonishment knew no bounds.
“How is this possible?” The native was standing in resting pose just inside the barn, his upper torso sunk partway into the lower and supported by his three undamaged forelegs. In the cool shade, with a light, crisp breeze blowing intermittently outside, he had leaned back against the wall to examine the bandage-wrapped injured member. “It must be some kind of magic!”
“Not magic.” Standing nearby watching a pair of baryeln lap up the moist plant mash Ebbanai had just dumped in their stalls, Flinx idly stroked the back of Pip’s head with one hand as he spoke. “Science.”
Gingerly, Ebbanai set his second right foreleg down and put a little weight on it. Normally, it would have been another couple of eight-days before he could have done so. Thanks to the ministrations of the alien and his mysterious devices and mendicants, after only a couple of days of treatment the limb could now provide the first underpinnings of support.
“I’ve heard of science. There are many who believe in it, especially the builders of the new factories and the sailoring merchants who are always looking for safer and faster ways to cross the seas. Equally, there are others who prefer to rely on the old ways and beseech the assistance of spirits and gods. And there are some, not wishing to take chances, who implore the help of both.”
Flinx nodded understandingly. His host’s description of Dwarran society placed it well within its exploratory Commonwealth classification. “My people have come to rely on science to explain the natural cosmos. In time, so will yours.” He did not add,
If they survive the necessary difficult social adjustments that affect all such sentient species at such critical times.
Ebbanai took an experimental step with his treated foreleg, marveling at its unnaturally restored strength. “If such
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