Sliding Scales (7 page)

Flinx eyed the ground underfoot. It was mostly tormented, eroded red-and-white granite. “I'm sorry there's not enough sand here to make a decent bed.”

The AAnn's double eyelids blinked as he rejoined his charge. “You know much about The People. Truly, I miss the warm ssand of my ressting place in the city.” The administrator seemed to hesitate. “I have never heard of humanss ssleeping within ssand.”

Flinx smiled as they strolled back to their vehicle. “Sleeping under it, no. But if the beach is nice, we're quite happy to burrow in for a while.”

“ ‘Beach.’ ” Takuuna's tail whipped agitatedly from side to side. “
Damp
ssand. That doess not make for a proper bedding. That doess not even make for a proper thought— for a civilized being.”

Flinx glanced back the way the AAnn had come. What had he seen beyond the small promontory he had climbed? What lay beyond? The canyon, no doubt—and perhaps something more. There had to be something more, he decided. Otherwise, this long journey out from Skokosas was going to prove disappointing.

Lying on his stomach on the floor of the aircar, his arms spraddled out in front of him, Takuuna marveled at the human's indifference. The softskin slept soundlessly on his side, utterly indifferent to his AAnn escort, his colorful pet curled up alongside the red fur of the rounded mammalian skull. With a single double kick and slash of claws, Takuuna could simultaneously cut the sleeping
human's throat and disembowel him. Sick of wasting time wondering and puzzling, he was sorely tempted to do just that. An accident, in the hinterlands of Jast. No one would know, no one would care.

Or would they? Might the human's demise cause difficulties for him with the Vsseyan authorities? After all, the softskin's arrival had been duly noted and officially processed by Immigration. Other than the pure pleasure the killing would provide, and perhaps a curious sampling of meat whose taste he had previously appreciated only via rumor and hearsay, was there any other reason for risking potential trouble?

It occurred then to Takuuna that it would mean a big-time burnishing of his facial scales if he could somehow prove that the softskin was no innocent tourist, as he appeared and claimed to be, but instead had traveled to Jast with the intent of doing his best to damage Imperial interests there. The fact that the human had thus far done nothing to suggest that he was anything of the sort was not necessarily an impediment to proving the contrary. Or what if it could be proven that the visitor was in fact a spy, sent alone to Jast in the hope that the work of a single agent would be overlooked?

The fact that so far he
had
been “overlooked” could only add to Takuuna's glory in exposing the subterfuge. This would in turn have the added benefit of undermining Captain Qerrudd, who had not officially protested to the Jastian authorities who had permitted the softskin's admittance. Takuuna foresaw favorable consequences: perhaps even promotion within the hierarchy above the infuriating captain. Only one significant obstacle blocked this tongue-warming scenario: the human himself, who thus far had shown himself to be guilty of nothing but persistent curiosity.

Very well, then. Administrator Takuuna was nothing if
not inventive, especially for a bureaucrat. If no transgression could be discerned, he would have to manufacture one.

Truly, but how? Lying prone on the floor of the silent aircar, shielded by its tight insulation from the night sounds rising from the nearby canyon, Takuuna pondered ritual maliciousness. He could simply shoot or eviscerate the human and subsequently claim to have been attacked. No, he decided. The young human's height notwithstanding, it would require a more physically imposing opponent to rationalize a claim of self-defense. What then? Something less blatant and more obtuse was in order. Something less amenable to close inspection and the questions that would inevitably arise from his peers.

Zealous thinking brought to mind the reports that had occasionally passed before him of the half-documented, half-rumored circles of dissident and disaffected Vssey who were adamantly opposed to the AAnn presence on their world. Suppose he could construct a suitable scenario wherein the human “tourist” had arrived to establish preliminary contact with one or more of such groups? That would constitute a credible threat to AAnn interests in this part of space. One sufficient to justify a claim of self-defense in the event that the stratagem was discovered by a bold interrogator such as himself, who was then forced to defend himself against the enraged and desperate spy. Yess, truly!

If pressed, he could then point the claw of accusation at one of the several comparatively harmless known dissident circles, accusing them of conspiring with the human and the humanx Commonwealth. Their protestations of innocence would not be believed. Before their blamelessness could be validated, he himself would generously suggest they be exonerated, innocents lured into sin by one of the always nefarious, ever cunning humans. Such munificence
of spirit would serve to raise his status among the Vssey. Concomitantly, his own kind would grant him credit for great perspicacity, and no harm done.

Except to the human, of course. One lone human, on “vacation,” far from the Commonwealth and friends. His presence, like his fate, would quickly be forgotten. By the time anyone came looking for him—if anyone did—the entire incident would be little more than a middling memory among both AAnn and Vssey. Who would care?

He knew he had to proceed with caution. Career-killing mistakes were usually made by those who had not carefully thought through their actions. The solution was simple enough.

He would sleep on it.

Across the floor, on the other side of the aircar, Flinx lay with his back to his host. Though he appeared asleep, he was in fact awake, his eyes closed. Though he was facing away from the AAnn, he could still perceive him. Though its dozing exhalations filled the aircar's compartment with soft, sibilant hisses, Flinx knew his host was only feigning sleep, that he was in fact awake and brooding furiously.

About what, Flinx knew not. Only when his talent was functioning could he sense emotions, not complex thought. What he sensed was open antipathy. Nothing less could be expected from an AAnn, even from one appointed to act as his guide and escort. It was their nature. For them, unrelenting hostility was a way of life that extended even to members of their own species.

So Flinx was not unsettled as he shifted his position on the hard deck. Only sleep would silence the raging emotional outpourings of the scaly sentient lying nearby. He relaxed. In the event of any sudden, untoward movement in his direction, Pip would wake him. Or, if necessary, do
more than that. The flying snakes of Alaspin were notoriously light sleepers.

Among the long litany of Bad Things One Could Do In Life, startling an Alaspinian minidrag out of a sound sleep ranked very high on the list.

A
n emotive surge of uncertainty mixed with the usual enmity woke Flinx. As he rolled over, he saw that his host was just sitting up, using his strong, limber arms to push his body straight backwards. This push, combined with the counterweight provided by the ever active, switching tail, allowed the AAnn to stand erect. A glance showed that Jast's sun was just beginning to show itself on the horizon.

“It will be cold outsside.” Clearly, Takuuna was not looking forward to the prospect.

“I'll manage.” Flinx smiled at his guide. “I've spent time on colder worlds.”

The administrator let out a sharp hiss whose subtle modulations Flinx was unable to interpret. Donning his utility vest, sandals, and a heated cloak to enable him to stand the chill morning air, the AAnn braced himself. At a brush of one clawed hand over a control pad, an opening appeared in the side of the aircar. Outside air entered like a coquette's slap. Flinx sucked it in, alien aromas and all, and followed his guide outside. Unlike the heat-loving AAnn, he needed no extra clothing to enable him to cope with sunrise temperatures. He wondered if his offhand comment about having spent time on colder worlds had been taken by his host for an ambiguous slight.

In moments they were standing on the rim of the
canyon, and then there was no more time to analyze AAnn reactions. Or, for that matter, much of anything else. He was too busy looking, and marveling.

As the first rays of the rising sun penetrated the depths of Saudaunn Chasm, they began to warm the air that had settled within. In addition to the atmosphere, the slowly rising temperature caused the various gases contained within the lifting bladders of creatures that had made their homes on ridges and ledges, in cracks and caves within the canyon, to expand. Though this daily heating and expanding was a common occurrence everywhere on Jast, at Saudaunn the phenomenon took on particular resonance.

Because the canyon depths were home to not several, not dozens, not even hundreds but to thousands of diurnal herbivorous grazers. Twiloulds and semasamps, torokwal and bederuntt, they began to rise in their thousands from their traditional dwelling and breeding grounds deep within the canyon and its walls. Watching the mass ascension, Flinx was enchanted. Pip darted delightedly above and around him, pleased to sense her master so enthralled by the sight of so much natural beauty. Whenever he felt particularly good, the feeling was instantly perceived by her.

Close beside him, the AAnn administrator hissed softly. The unrelenting hostility he projected was submerged by an appreciation for a phenomenon unrelated to personal advancement or the demotion of another. For once, he shared something with his unwanted charge besides distaste. The claws of his left hand clicked together rhythmically.

“Truly, iss it not a beautiful thing, ssoftsskin?”

Flinx could only agree. Squawking or hooting or whistling melodiously to one another, the massed flocks of Jastian fauna came rising from the deep shadows of the
chasm up into the sharp bright sunlight of morning, borne aloft by their expanding sacs of self-generated methane or hydrogen. Some creatures were elevated by only a single balloon-like pouch while others boasted as many as half a dozen. While arms and tentacles dangled from several species, none had even the most rudimentary legs. None had need for such superfluous limbs. Why try to walk when your kind had evolved to float, to hover and soar at the expense of the wind?

The wind. The thought and the image it engendered produced a question.

“If they're blown around by the breeze of the day, how do they all find their way back here, to this particular canyon?”

Takuuna was no pause-thinker. He knew the answer. One did not dwell on Jast for more than a few cycles without learning such things.

“Every creature on Jasst that utilizess thiss method of travel hass wayss of adjussting coursse and direction. Lifting gassess can be vented, or added to, or jetted off to one sside or another to maneuver the animal up, down, or in different directionss.” Intermittent, short hisses indicated AAnn amusement. “It iss fasscinating to watch the local predatorss in action, and the effortss of their intended prey to evade being conssumed.”

Exactly the sort of natural behavior the AAnn would find entertaining, Flinx knew. He had another question to ask, but was forestalled by the sight before him.

The barrunou were coming out of the canyon.

He did not try to count them. When he asked Takuuna if a census had ever been taken on the local population of the particular species, the AAnn gestured a negative. Not many non-Vssey even knew of this place, he explained.

“Of the barrunou there are perhapss a few hundred thoussand. Perhapss a million.” His tail was not switching
edgily from side to side now. It lay relaxed, muscles at ease, the tip resting on the ground.

Blinded by the sight, Flinx wished for the special goggles stored in his backpack. But he did not jog back to the aircar to dig them out. He was afraid he might miss something. So he stood and shielded his eyes as best he could, shadowing them with his right hand. Takuuna, he noted, frequently had to look away and wipe water from his own sharp eyes.

In their tens of thousands, the barrunou rose from their multitude of burrows and nesting places within the canyon. No bigger than an open hand, each was supported by a single gas sac that blossomed from the middle of its back. Slim and flattened, ranging in color from a striped pale brown to a mottled light blue, each individual had a fringe of cilia dangling from its wide mouth. With these, Takuuna explained, the browsing barrunou would feel of the tops of rocks and plants for the smaller growths on which they fed. Behind cilia-lined mouth rose a pair of tiny but alert eyes. Though not mounted on stalks like the oculars of the Vssey, those of the barrunou were still capable of a wide range of motion. They could not see behind them, but they had excellent peripheral vision. The soft, sweet, cheeping sounds they made reminded Flinx of a cross between a baby bird and an angry mouse. He found that he was grinning uncontrollably.

It was not their shape, however, or their varied coloration that commanded one's attention. Instead, it was the gas-filled sacs that provided their lift. Unlike that of the various air-dwellers Flinx had encountered thus far, those of the barrunou were not pale beige, or yellow, or even dappled turquoise blue. Instead, they were covered with tiny iridescent scales that caught the rays of the rising sun and flung them back at anything and everything in the vicinity. Furthermore, these idiosyncratic reflections
were neither constant nor predictable, fluctuating as they did not only with the position of the barrunou but with the expansion and contraction of the lifting sac itself.

It was as if a million fist-sized spherical mirrors were rising from the depths of the canyon, each one reflecting back all the colors of the rainbow. So bright was the massed shining, so intense the aggregated shimmering, that it illuminated those corners and crannies of the canyon that the rays of the sun had not yet reached.

Side by side, human and AAnn observed the vast ascension in silence, each lost in his own thoughts, each mesmerized by the splendid aerial procession that was taking place before them. For her part, Pip ignored it. She had found something small and sweet-smelling hiding among the rocks and was doing her lethal serpentine best to coax it out of its hiding place.