Read Sliding Scales Online

Authors: Alan Dean Foster

Sliding Scales (19 page)

BOOK: Sliding Scales
8.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Stylus activated and poised over the receptive sheet, he looked back at her. The proximity to his face of the powerful jaws and sharp teeth of the intelligent carnivore did not unsettle him. By now he was quite used to it. “You have something else in mind for me?”

“Perhapss.” She was deliberately evasive. “It iss a— ssurprisse.” The pleasure to be found in unexpected revelation was something else human and AAnn shared. “I would not tell you, in any casse, becausse if it doess not come to pass, it will provide no causse for dissappointment.”

“You'll have to tell me eventually.” He returned to his current drawing of a graceful structure on a world that was bathed in warm sunshine. A beautiful woman had
been sketched in standing in front of the human-scaled building. She seemed to be looking directly out at the viewer. “You know how much I enjoy pestering you, Chraluuc.”

She started to take a slash at him with her tail, only to catch herself in mid-swipe. While he might have misinterpreted the meaning of the leathery slap, that would not have invalidated the sincerity of the gesture.

“I—I have to leave. My own work wailss for attention.” She turned and backed away from him.

“Why?” he started to ask her. “What's the rush to …?”

But she was already gone, out the door as fast as she could gracilely manage, the bewildering emotions swirling within her a disturbing muddle of growing friendship, misplaced affection, maternalistic instinct, and duty. It was fortunate, she reflected as she hurried down the corridor, that the softskin was unable to accurately interpret any of the associated signs, or her circumstances would have been twelve times worse.

The farther she got from the small apartment that had been allotted to him, the more her inner confusion eased. She knew who she was, and nothing could or would change that. Being an outcast did not render her any less what she was. Truly.

But despite her strong sense of self-assurance, recollection of the disturbing moment continued to perturb her for the rest of the day.

To say that the Ssemilionn of the Ssaiinn was astonished by her request was akin to her suggesting that the three Elders abandon their commitments to their respective disciplines and volunteer their services to the Imperial defense forces. One and all, they regarded her as if she had suddenly turned into one of the foolish, fluttery umorows that was constantly battering itself silly against the skylights
of the Tier's buildings in repetitious vain attempts to burrow through and lay its eggs on the other side of the implacably impenetrable material.

“You are sseriouss in thiss propossal!” Xeerelu's half-prosthetic tail whipped back and forth in agitation.

Chraluuc stood her ground. “I think it would be a good thing. It would reflect well on the Tier of Ssaiinn.”

“Truly, it would certainly reflect.” Synthetic eyes whirred imperceptibly as Naalakot clicked his claws together to illustrate his unease. “The quesstion iss, what would that conssequent reflection reveal?”

“What do we care?” In the presence of the Ssemilionn, Chraluuc was respectful, but not intimidated. Like any AAnn, she could be convinced, or persuaded, or even killed, but rarely intimidated. “We are already looked upon as different from otherss of our kind, and treated as outssiderss.” She eyed each of them in turn. “Ssince it iss already expected that we will do the sstartling and unprecedented, sshould we not do our besst to confirm the ssupicionss of our fellow nye?”

Viinpou continued to brood, though he was not as visibly unsettled as his two companions. “Not necessarily. We musst sstill rely on the goodwill of the Imperial Authority to maintain our pressence here. Thiss is not an Imperial world, and we could be ordered off it at any time.”

“Truly!” Chraluuc enthusiastically agreed. “Therefore we are obligated to rely on the goodwill not of the Imperial Authority but of the Vssey themsselvess.”

“You are being dissingenuouss,” Xeerelu replied accusingly.

“Iss that not alsso a recognized art form among our kind?” Unable to smile, Chraluuc was reduced to communicating her reaction through gestures. “Sserioussly, venerated Elders, if my ssugesstion iss implemented, asside from the aessthetic asspectss, could it not have potential
benefitss none of uss can forssee? And given the inability to forssee, sshould we not try thiss new thing?” Not only was she challenging them individually, she was challenging what they stood for. “Iss that not ultimately what art iss about?”

Viinpou was not so easily convinced. “What you propose ssmackss more of politicss and ssociology than art.”

“Do not people sspeak of ‘the art of politicss’?”

The elderly female turned to her fellow Ssemiil. “Thiss weed-wissher iss too clever by half.”

“I concur,” hissed Naalakot, “but that doess not invalidate her argument. I can, however vaguely, tasste a glimmer of the possible benefitss to which sshe alludess. I believe it may be ssomething worth nibbling on.”

Chraluuc slowed her breathing and stilled her tail as the Ssemilionn of the Ssaiinn continued to debate her radical proposal. If they turned it down, that would be the end of it. There was nothing more she could do, no higher court to which she could file an appeal. Not within the Tier.

After what felt like hours, the Elders ceased their animated wrangling.

“We think we undersstand the potential benefits,” Xeerelu hissed softly at her. “We alsso, even though it conveniently appearss to have esscaped you, ssee the potential harm that taking ssuch an unprecedented action could incur.” Sharp eyes glanced at her expectant colleagues, and she continued—reluctantly, it seemed to Chraluuc.

“After conssidered debate, we have decided to proceed as you requesst. This will occasion much disscussion among the memberss of the Tier. That iss as it should be, and iss to be encouraged. At pressent, we do not the three of uss foresee any objectionss—and there will be ssome— that cannot be overcome. When would you wissh to perform the necessary activitiess?”

“As ssoon as the Ssemilionn deemss it propitiouss,” she replied promptly. Now that they had agreed to her proposal, the actual date on which it should be implemented was a matter of indifference to her.

“A day will be chossen.” A still plainly reluctant Viinpou pulled his pale yellow vest tighter around him. The etchings on his scaly shoulders shimmered with intricate inlays of powdered metal.

Xeerelu continued. “I musst ssay, truly, that a part of me iss looking forward with great curiossity not only to the ceremony itsself but to itss unpredictable conssequencess. To the besst of my knowledge, thiss will be the firsst time in the hisstory of the modern Imperial era that ssuch a thing hass been tried.” She gazed back at the female nye who had boldly flung the outrageous proposition in their faces, challenging not only them but the philosophy of the Tier itself.

“What of the one who iss to play the central figure in thiss drama? How do you think he will react?”

“Truly.” Now even Viinpou was beginning to find himself caught up in the anticipation. “When the time comess, it may be that he will refusse to participate. What then?”

“He will not refusse.” Chraluuc was completely confident. Well, almost completely confident, she told herself. “If nothing elsse, he will accept becausse it would be impolite to refusse, and he iss nothing if not polite.” Her tail smacked the floor behind her. “If he hessitatess, I will thrassh him until he agreess.”

The junior male's pupils dilated strongly. “That iss very perssonal of you. May I ssay, mosst oddly sso.”

She glared at the Ssemiil. “Like any artisst, I am interessted in doing whatever iss necessary to get ressults.”

Naalakot spoke solemnly. “A sstrange ssort of art, thiss.” Both clawed hands clove the air in a first-degree gesture of satisfaction mixed with third-degree anticipation
. “I find that I am alsso looking forward to it. If nothing elsse, it will provide an interessting diverssion for the entire Ssaiinn.” He leaned forward slightly. Though devoid of external ears to point in the petitioning female's direction, the Elder still listened intently. “What hass been the reaction thuss far of the ssoftsskin to your extraordinary propossal?”

For the first time since she had entered the room to confront the Ssemilionn, Chraluuc appeared tentative. “I cannot ssay. You ssee, I have not sspoken of it to him yet.”

10

W
hen, unable to put discussing it off any longer once the Ssemilionn had chosen a date, she finally did confront the subject of so much fervent deliberation, Flinx's reaction was decidedly ambivalent.

“I'm flattered, I guess.” As he spoke in the small living compartment that had been set aside for him, he was playing with his pet. While he held his right arm straight out in front of him, the flying snake was winding around it in multiple coils. Only when her head reached his wrist did she unfurl and exercise her wings, opening them to their fullest extent and slowly moving them back and forth. Since she was upside down, the striking pink and pale blue membranous flaps hung from his arm like the folds of some exotic, translucent robe.

“You musst undersstand.” Standing by the entrance-way, Chraluuc kept her tail in check. There was no need to take a traditional swing at the softskin since he had not yet turned down the proposal. “Inssofar as anyone knowss, nothing like thiss hass ever been done before, either within the borderss of the Empire or without, irresspective of the nature of the proffering Tier itsself. It may not even be legal. But the Ssemilionn has agreed to it. All that iss necessary in order to proceed iss, obvioussly, your conssent.”

“I don't know.” As he lowered his arm, the minidrag folded her wings flat against her body but remained
coiled around his limb. “What would be my responsibilities? What would be expected of me?”

“Very little,” she replied encouragingly. “That you would do nothing to bring yoursself or the Tier into dissgrace. That you would continue to practice a chossen art. That you would resspect your fellow memberss and their work.”

“Some of them don't like me.” He did not tell her that he could sense whenever animosity was being directed his way even when the perpetrator was being outwardly polite. Just as he could sense now that her feelings toward him were truly warm and friendly. “How would they respond to something like this?”

“As any member of the Tier would to another. With courtessy and kindness.”

Flinx wasn't so sure. During his stay there had been more than one instance where an AAnn had approached him with hand politely affixed to throat and head turned sideways, but whose true emotions he had perceived as bordering on the bloodthirsty. Still, since no one had tried to kill him the first week he had been at the complex, there was every reason to hope they would not try to do so now. Or try to do so following the singular procedure Chraluuc had described to him.

But he was still unsure. “You really want to initiate me into your Tier?”

Possible tail-thrashing forgotten, she began to pace in the AAnn manner: taking a step to the left, then to the right, then left again, essentially pacing in place. An onlooking human could have been forgiven for thinking that the slender reptiloid was practicing a new dance step.

“As I ssaid, it hass never been done before. As far as thosse who have done the relevant ressearch have been able to determine, you would be the firsst ssoftssk—the firsst human to be formally inducted into an AAnn family
unit. Becausse in order for you to become one of the Ssaiinn, you musst alsso become a member of a family.”

The more he thought about it, the more Flinx had to admit that the proposal held a peculiar appeal. As Pip slithered off his outstretched arm and onto the room's single, simple table, Flinx reflected on his lack of any kind of family: a lack that would persist at least until more of his memory returned. And if it never did? Wasn't an AAnn family—wide-ranging, belligerent, and frequently indifferent as it could be—better than no family at all?

“What AAnn extended family would adopt
me
?” he speculated aloud.

“Mine,” she informed him without hesitation. “It hass all been worked out. The necessary recordss have already been transsferred to the deep-sspace communicationss ssysstem in Sskokossass for relay to the appropriate recordss-keeping department on Blasusarr. Family adoption is common and cassual among my kind. Yourss sshould not even be noticed.”

Because so many of you are busy fighting and killing, he reflected silently. Still, that was not enough to put him off the idea. The more he pondered on it, the more intriguing, if not necessarily conventionally attractive, it became.

“You will become a member of my family as well as the Tier of Ssaiinn,” she told him. “Who better than to do ssuch a thing than an association of radical outcasst artissanss?”

It would be good to belong to a family of some kind, he mused. Even if it wasn't of his own species.

“All right—I agree. But with one caveat: for one thing, I'm not participating in any mating brawls,” he told her firmly. “I'd be at a real disadvantage without a tail, not to mention claws, and I don't particularly like rolling around in hot sand.”

“It would not be necessary for you to …” She broke off, gaped at him a moment, and then broke out in a stream of amused hisses like a toy steam engine. “Your ssuitably dry ssensse of humor is appropriate to your new sstatuss. Thiss unprecedented affair will go well, I think.” Turning suddenly somber, her words were punctuated by an appropriate half-gesture.

“What will your own family think of thiss, when at lasst you are returned to them?”

“That won't be a problem.” Reaching down, he stroked the back of Pip's neck, between her head and the place where her body bulged slightly and the muscles that moved her wings began. “Right now and for the foreseeable future, this is all the family I have, right here, and she's not objecting.”

Chraluuc swallowed respectfully. “Ssurely, truly, there musst be otherss, ssomewhere. You musst have a female and male parent.”

Her words sparked more remembrance. “There is an old woman who raised me, but she's not my true parent. My real mother was … my father was …”

BOOK: Sliding Scales
8.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

La voluntad del dios errante by Margaret Weis y Tracy Hickman
Kickass Anthology by Keira Andrews, Jade Crystal, Nancy Hartmann, Tali Spencer, Jackie Keswick, JP Kenwood, A.L. Boyd, Mia Kerick, Brandon Witt, Sophie Bonaste
Lying Together by Gaynor Arnold
The Truth Behind his Touch by Cathy Williams
B785 by Eve Langlais
Courts of Idleness by Dornford Yates
A Darker Shade of Blue by John Harvey


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024