‘science’ can do things like fix a broken leg in less than an eight-day, I certainly will be among the first to salute its primacy.” Wide round eyes regarded the pouch and instrument-laden belt that encircled the alien’s waist. “What other wonders do you carry around so casually with you?” he asked eagerly. A bit too eagerly, Flinx thought.
Well, such envy was only natural. “Just enough to look after myself. Emergency rations, both for myself and for Pip. A device for purifying water. The means with which to communicate with my ship. Medical supplies and equipment, as you already know.”
An entranced Ebbanai forgot himself completely. Had his mate been present, she would have kicked him for his candor. “Weapons?” he asked enthusiastically, and was immediately sorry for his zeal.
His guest did not seem upset by the query, much less alarmed. “I always have with me the means for defending myself. When you find yourself in a strange place, that’s always the prudent thing to do.” He smiled reassuringly. “Of course, if I’d been able to foresee what a kind reception I was in for, I could have left that on my ship.”
Could have,
the alien said, Ebbanai noted carefully. Not
would have
. It was not a warning, or a sign of displeasure. If their situations were reversed, Ebbanai would have done no less. For example, he never went into Metrel unarmed. The city could be dangerous, especially for a nonresident, and it was only a fool who entered such places unprepared.
Abruptly, and unexpectedly, the alien turned away from him. Its posture stiffened, and the flying creature that never strayed far from its side took to the air, rising toward the domed roof of the barn. Both beings’ attention was focused on the main doorway.
“What is it?” Approaching as close as he dared without being invited, Ebbanai directed his own gaze toward the entry. “Is there something wrong, friend Flinx?”
His guest did not reply. Flinx’s eyes were on the barn entrance, but his perception was roving beyond. Luxuriating in the mental peace and quiet, he had only intermittently allowed his Talent to break through the silence and reach outward, especially when he was in the perceived comfort of Ebbanai’s presence. He had just sampled the emotional aether in the immediate vicinity, only to be rewarded not with the expected continued stillness but with a number of highly energetic emotional projections. Many, in fact.
Frowning, he turned back to Ebbanai, who did his best not to look blameworthy. Flinx wouldn’t have recognized the equivalent Dwarran expression in any case, but he didn’t have to. His host’s guilt flowed out of him like smoke off a coal fire.
“Ebbanai, what is this? What’s going on?”
“What is what?” The shamefaced Dwarra tried to stall, ineffectually.
Flinx nodded in the direction of the doorway. Now that he had once again opened himself to external Dwarran emotions, they were flooding in on him simultaneously from several directions. “You told me Storra was expected back today. Nothing was said about her bringing others with her.”
Ebbanai tried hard not to look up at the hovering Pip, whom his guest had informed him was capable of dealing out a particularly lethal toxin. Where was Storra and why didn’t she hurry up? Where were his tongues when he needed both of them so badly? He stammered, found his tongues tied up in his chewing plates, and managed to utter only a few feeble inconsequentialities.
I’ve been deceived, Flinx thought to himself as the pack of approaching emotional outpourings grew louder and stronger in his mind. The question was, to what purpose?
Then the barn doors were dragged aside and a veritable flock of Dwarra were visible bunched up tightly together in the entrance. One set of wide round eyes after another gaped at the alien standing before them. In the center, looking tired but triumphant, was Ebbanai’s mate Storra.
“There it is,” she declared into
Well, such envy was only natural. “Just enough to look after myself. Emergency rations, both for myself and for Pip. A device for purifying water. The means with which to communicate with my ship. Medical supplies and equipment, as you already know.”
An entranced Ebbanai forgot himself completely. Had his mate been present, she would have kicked him for his candor. “Weapons?” he asked enthusiastically, and was immediately sorry for his zeal.
His guest did not seem upset by the query, much less alarmed. “I always have with me the means for defending myself. When you find yourself in a strange place, that’s always the prudent thing to do.” He smiled reassuringly. “Of course, if I’d been able to foresee what a kind reception I was in for, I could have left that on my ship.”
Could have,
the alien said, Ebbanai noted carefully. Not
would have
. It was not a warning, or a sign of displeasure. If their situations were reversed, Ebbanai would have done no less. For example, he never went into Metrel unarmed. The city could be dangerous, especially for a nonresident, and it was only a fool who entered such places unprepared.
Abruptly, and unexpectedly, the alien turned away from him. Its posture stiffened, and the flying creature that never strayed far from its side took to the air, rising toward the domed roof of the barn. Both beings’ attention was focused on the main doorway.
“What is it?” Approaching as close as he dared without being invited, Ebbanai directed his own gaze toward the entry. “Is there something wrong, friend Flinx?”
His guest did not reply. Flinx’s eyes were on the barn entrance, but his perception was roving beyond. Luxuriating in the mental peace and quiet, he had only intermittently allowed his Talent to break through the silence and reach outward, especially when he was in the perceived comfort of Ebbanai’s presence. He had just sampled the emotional aether in the immediate vicinity, only to be rewarded not with the expected continued stillness but with a number of highly energetic emotional projections. Many, in fact.
Frowning, he turned back to Ebbanai, who did his best not to look blameworthy. Flinx wouldn’t have recognized the equivalent Dwarran expression in any case, but he didn’t have to. His host’s guilt flowed out of him like smoke off a coal fire.
“Ebbanai, what is this? What’s going on?”
“What is what?” The shamefaced Dwarra tried to stall, ineffectually.
Flinx nodded in the direction of the doorway. Now that he had once again opened himself to external Dwarran emotions, they were flooding in on him simultaneously from several directions. “You told me Storra was expected back today. Nothing was said about her bringing others with her.”
Ebbanai tried hard not to look up at the hovering Pip, whom his guest had informed him was capable of dealing out a particularly lethal toxin. Where was Storra and why didn’t she hurry up? Where were his tongues when he needed both of them so badly? He stammered, found his tongues tied up in his chewing plates, and managed to utter only a few feeble inconsequentialities.
I’ve been deceived, Flinx thought to himself as the pack of approaching emotional outpourings grew louder and stronger in his mind. The question was, to what purpose?
Then the barn doors were dragged aside and a veritable flock of Dwarra were visible bunched up tightly together in the entrance. One set of wide round eyes after another gaped at the alien standing before them. In the center, looking tired but triumphant, was Ebbanai’s mate Storra.
“There it is,” she declared into
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