He had been walking on it.
The continuous high wall he had scaled upon leaving the salt flats was the rim of the device. The black monoliths, the twisted and gnarled shapes, the ribbed surface that time had covered with windblown sand: It was all part of the AAnn-discovered transmitter. Or part of its upper regions, anyway. What more lay buried beneath his feet, under the sand and in the bedrock of the planet, he could only imagine. Maybe these two AAnn knew that as well. Xenologists, he wondered, or students of a more arcane specialty? Like a fisherman forced to cast with virtual bait, he chanced continuing the conversation. With luck, they wouldn’t realize that his hook was empty.
“I’ve had the same problem with my superiors,” he confessed, under no illusion that by expressing sympathy with their professional position he was establishing any sort of emotional rapport. “It’s simply too big to be believed. And the age of the thing!” he concluded hopefully.
The garrulous, ingenuous couple did not disappoint. Flinx translated the hypothesized timeline they provided. If they were correct, it meant that the enormous mechanism atop which they were standing and conversing was between 485,000 and 500,000 years old.
To lavish so much time and effort on such an instrument, he concluded somberly, someone must have been in need of serious long-range conversation with somebody else. Or with something else.
“Still,” he murmured, hoping to acquire a little more information before the AAnn grew suspicious, “its origin and purpose remain a mystery.”
“Ssssnt,” the female whispered, “then you are no nearer the ansswerss than are we.”
Too bad, Flinx mused. Too bad that their work thus far had not revealed that knowledge to them. As for himself, he now knew a great deal more than he had when they had begun, which had been less than nothing.
“You are alone,” the male declared. When Flinx chose not to respond, the AAnn added, “Where iss your landing craft, your ssuppliess?”
“You know I can’t tell you any of that.” Let them wonder about the possible presence of other humans, he decided, and their unknown capabilities.
“It doess not matter.” The female gestured with her weapon. “The ssoldierss will take charge of him, and find out. It need not concern uss.” Her eyes were cold, her expression indifferent. “Thiss wasstess our time.”
“I thought we were establishing some common ground.” Flinx smiled encouragingly. “After all, we three are colleagues in science, something the military cares nothing about.”
“We are not colleaguess,” the male retorted. “We are competitorss. And all AAnn are ssoldierss together in the sservice of the Empire.”
It was exactly the kind of dutiful, disappointing response he had been expecting, but there had been no harm in trying. The two researchers might be elderly, but they were not senile. They were still all AAnn.
“What sshall we do with him until ssomeone from Kyl Base can come to take him away?” The female gestured third-degree anxiety, coupled with a twist of lips and elongated jaws that suggested she wouldn’t mind sampling a bite of soft mammalian flesh. Flinx tensed. On his shoulder, Pip’s coils tightened, and he hastened to calm the minidrag by thinking only self-confident thoughts. Not yet, he told himself, and through empathetic consanguinity, her as well.
“Collar,” the male declared briskly. Disappearing around a massive slab of solid black, he returned moments later carrying a length of silvery cord a couple of centimeters in diameter. Avoiding Pip’s coils, he placed this around Flinx’s neck. Stepping back, he fingered a pair of contacts on his instrument belt. A trio of tiny lights snapped to life deep within the cord as the two congruent ends proceeded to fuse seamlessly together.
“That cannot be removed without first entering the appropriate code,” he announced to the accompaniment of second-degree satisfaction. “Try anything untoward, travel more than a tenth of a qadit from my sside, and the explosivess with which the loop iss impregnated will explode with enough force to ssever your head from your shoulderss. We use the material for making precission excavationss. It will ssuffice, I think, to keep a lone human from wandering.”
Flinx indicated his understanding. “I know it is your responsibility to turn me over to the local authorities. I just didn’t think there were any.”
“It will take time for ssoldierss to get here from Kyl Base.” The female sounded unhappy. “Meanwhile we musst, as you argued, tolerate your dissagreeable pressence. Do not think to take advantage of it.”
“I don’t see how I could. Not while I’m wearing this.” Reaching up, he felt gingerly of the flexible collar impregnated with powdered explosive. Under the best of circumstances, he did not care to have anything around his neck except a certain flying snake. “Just make sure you don’t fall asleep atop the control unit.”
The AAnn responded with gestures to his attempt at humor. Among their kind, irony and sarcasm had always been appreciated.
“Do as you are told, and your life will be presserved. For as long as the military cadre conssiderss worthwhile, at leasst.” Turning, the male indicated that the prisoner should walk in front of them. In tatters and battered boots, Flinx complied.
He had been given water. If they wished to keep him alive until the local command could take him off their hands, then food would likely be forthcoming. The deadly collar he could live with—for now. In spite of empty pockets and the absence of equipment belt or tool packet he still possessed the means for removing the device. That also would have to wait until the time was right, he knew. Everything usually did.
As they walked, he saw the black material around him and beneath his feet in an entirely new light. A transmitter of gargantuan size and incredible age, the AAnn insisted. Who had built it? Why was it situated on an empty, ovenlike, nowhere world like Pyrassis? Was this what the crew and complement of the Crotase had come all this distant, dangerous way hoping to find? If so, what possible connection could a prehistoric alien transmitting device have with the Meliorare Society, or with the sybfile of personal information he had tracked halfway across the galactic arm?
Through stealth and quick thinking he had acquired some answers, but in no wise were they keeping up with the rising flood of questions. Try as he might, he failed to link his purpose in being on distant Pyrassis with that of the crew from the Crotase, much less with the presence of an enormous antediluvian transmitter of alien design. It was entirely possible, he realized, that there was no link, and that the visitors from the Commonwealth vessel had come to this desert world driven by other reasons entirely. The revelation of the transmitter’s existence was as unlikely as it was unexpected. While it engaged his interest and imagination, he knew he must not let it distract him from his purpose in journeying to this place. He was here to learn about and find out about himself, not to engage in xenoarcheology.
The elderly female AAnn gestured with the pistol, forcing his thoughts from confused contemplation back to inscrutable reality. The weight of the explosive collar disturbing against his throat, he lengthened his stride.
Their neatly laid-out camp was a jumble of supplies, equipment, and laboriously acquired study material. In typical AAnn fashion, 90 percent of the living and working quarters were situated just beneath the sun-baked surface. A flattened dome with ground-level slits for viewing and ventilation marked the location of individual compartments designated for sleeping, eating, and research. His breathing skipped a beat at the sight of the lightweight two-person skimmer. Though the layout and controls were AAnn-designed and proportioned, he felt certain that given the chance he could divine enough of its functions to enable him to operate the vehicle. As they walked past, he tried hard not to stare at the tempting means of escape.
Whether he would be given that chance remained to be seen. Certainly he could do nothing while trapped beneath the watchful eyes of the two xenologists. What would they do with him when it was time for them to retire? AAnn required roughly as much sleep as humans. The explosive collar might keep him
from fleeing, but it would not prevent him from prowling around the camp while they slept. Something as low-tech as a lock and chain would take care of any free-roaming notions their prisoner might have. Surely they had something like that in mind for him.
It was only slightly cooler below ground. The AAnn thrived in hot, dry climates. Flinx knew he could stand it, so long as they continued to provide him with water.
Taking the gun from his mate, the male kept watch on the young human while his companion disappeared into another chamber. “The military will not believe you are a fellow ressearcher, you know. They will assume you are a Commonwealth sspy and treat you accordingly.”
Taking a seat against a blank section of wall, Flinx did his best to appear indifferent to his situation. “Then they are as stupid as they are unlucky, to be sent to a world as unimportant and out of the way as Pyrassis.” He hesitated. “Unless, of course, there is something here worth spying on.”
“You are trying to get me to provide military information.” The muscular tail switched from side to side in a manner indicating mild amusement coupled with third-degree curiosity. “I have none to give. My mate and I are interessted in the passt, not the political pressent. Pyrassis intrigued uss for the very reasson that it interessted no one elsse.” Accompanied by a high cheeping sound, teeth clacked together several times, denoting amusement. “I would be as ssurprissed as you if there exissted on thiss world anything of military value. There are mineralss in abundance, a condition of geology one cannot avoid noticing, but nothing that cannot be obtained more viably elssewhere. If there are large depossitss of ssomething sspecial or unique, we are unaware of it. My mate and I delight in our issolation. Even the location of thiss world is unimportant. Though such lore doess not fall within our areass of expertisse, I would be asstonisshed to learn that Pyrassis iss thought by the Imperial Board of Grand Sstrategy to have tactical importance.” He settled into an AAnn lounge, a supportive puzzle of padded wires and posts that allowed his tail unrestricted range of movement.
“What iss your perssonal dessignation?”
“Flinx.” A now relaxed Pip shifted against his shoulder.
“Only one naming? That iss unussual among humanss. Given the way you breed, the need for more than one sseemss a matter of necessity rather than choice.” When Flinx did not respond, the xenologist added, “They will sstill treat you as a sspy. It iss procedure.”
“You and your mate could vouch for my scientific interests,” Flinx suggested helpfully. “As fellow researchers, we have a lot in common.”
“We are not fellowss,” the AAnn replied impassively. “As to whether we have anything in common, that would remain to be sseen. Though it matterss not.” While not as flexible as a human face, that of the AAnn was capable of considerably more expression than, say, the insectoid thranx. “Your pressence here iss an unwanted intrussion and an unpleassant surprise. I find everything about you, from your physsical appearance to your body odor to the ssound of your voice, disspleassing. The ssooner the military hass taken you off our handss, the happier my mate and I will be.”
Flinx rested his forearms on his knees. “That’s not very hospitable of you.”
“AAnn hosspitality is resserved for the Kind, and for itss friendss. Having allied yoursselvess with the loathessome hardshellss to resstrict the sspread of ssettlement that iss our right, you are neither.”
The lanky redhead sighed. There was nothing to be gained by bandying politics with the elderly scientist. The AAnn believed they had the right to expand anywhere and dominate everyplace. No amount of argument would convince them otherwise. Where sophistry failed, however, the presence of numbers of large starships heavily manned by humans and thranx had proven more pragmatically compelling. That did not prevent the AAnn from continually probing, testing, and provoking Commonwealth resolve at every opportunity.
The female returned. No attempt was made by the pair to shield their conversation from the prisoner. They wanted him to hear.
The male’s tone and gestures conveyed his annoyance. “There sshould alwayss be someone on contact at Kyl. What kind of outposst of the Empire iss thiss?”
“A very, very issolated one,” his mate reminded him. “The information wass forwarded. As soon as it reachess the appropriate individual, I am certain that proper action will eventuate.”
“Isssspah—I hope so. The human occupiess time and energiess far better sspent engaged in professional activitiess.”
“You could just let me go,” Flinx suggested amiably. “I’ll walk away and you’ll never see me again.”
As he made the suggestion, he concentrated as hard as he could. You have to let me go, he thought. You need to let me go. There are a thousand reasons why you should let me go. So—let me go now. He had never tried projecting persuasion on a nonhuman. Whether his talent was functioning or not, he had no way of telling. The response from the AAnn, at least, was unequivocal. His mental straining had no effect on them whatsoever. Perhaps, he mused wryly, he would have had better luck if one of them had been searching for love.
More teeth-clicking as the female replied. “We may not be ssoldierss, but we know our duty. You thoughtfully reminded uss of it when we gave you water. You will remain here until the appropriate military repressentativess come to remove you from our pressence.”
“And you will do sso quietly.” The male brushed a clawed finger across the face of the unit that monitored the explosive collar. Flinx tried to hide his unease. The AAnn was elderly. If its hand accidentally stroked the wrong control the wrong way . . .
“I have no weapons,” he lied. “I won’t make any trouble.”
“No.” The male spoke with confidence as he turned to leave. “You will not.”
They continued to give him water from what was evidently either a distiller or abundant storage, simultaneously curious about and repelled by his ability to process such copious amounts of the liquid. Following an exchange of questions and answers, food that was suitable for human ingestion was also found and provided. Though palatable, it was something less than tasty. The alien nutrients did serve to rapidly restore his physical strength, however. With renewed energy came renewed confidence.
He knew that he had to leave before the military arrived to claim him. Once in their custody his opportunities for maintaining his independence would be considerably diminished. Furthermore, someone might recognize the Alaspinian minidrag riding on his shoulder as something other than a thoroughly benign pet.
He would wait until they slept, free himself, appropriate the largest container of water he could easily carry together with some food, and go. The chaotic maze that was the anomalous surface of the ancient transmitter provided plenty of places in which to hide. While avoiding the attentions of a curious military, he could continue to seek the presumably well-camouflaged landing party from the Crotase.
Meanwhile, the blistering Pyrassisian sun was still high, and the two scientists were intent upon their daily tasks. Secured to a heavy supply container, unable to move, with the ever-present threat of the explosive collar rubbing against the back of his neck, he crossed his arms over his chest, closed his eyes, and tried to get some sleep.
Chapter 11
When he finally awoke, it was dark save for the light from Pyrassis’s two sizable moons. The wan, ethereal glow spilled into the room through a pair of slitted, ground-level observation ports. Neither the darkness nor the moonlight was what had awakened him, however. It was Pip. She was astir and fully alert, triangular emerald-green head held high, wings half unfurled ready to carry her aloft. Her small, bright eyes were focused on shadowed movement. Not AAnn, but something else with legs. Lots of legs. Too many legs.
No, they weren’t legs, an unmoving Flinx decided as their serpentine owner continued to emerge from beneath the floor. More like fins, stiff paddlelike appendages that had evolved to propel the creature through sand instead of across it. Its long, narrow snout had no visible teeth. In their place writhed a
quartet of questing, exploring tongues. Each slim protuberance was about a meter in length, or at least the portion that the creature chose to expose was that long. Every one of the four appendages tapered to a point. In contrast to the invader’s mottled yellow-and-black epidermis, the internal appendages were tinted a striking crimson. They flicked rapidly in and out of the eyeless snout, sampling their surroundings. The hole or burrow from which it continued to emerge, he noted, had been bored through sand, avoiding the hard black ribbed material of which the suspect transmitter was composed.
Flinx remained calm, telling himself that this visitor from the cooler subterranean regions was only curious. Other than its size, it did not appear threatening. As he watched it slither across the floor, its multiple tongues nuzzling containers and packages, furniture and scientific supplies, his attention was drawn back to the hole in the ground. A low ridge of sandy soil had formed a ring around the opening from which the visitor was emerging. And emerging, and continuing to emerge.
How long was the creature, anyway?
The languidly rising cable of blood and flesh continued to issue from its eruptive burrow until the seated and much smaller inhabitant of the storage chamber decided that it might be time to put his carefully considered plans aside and get the hell out of there. Concentrating his thoughts, focusing his emotions, he launched Pip from his shoulder. Taking to the air, she hovered expectantly in front of him. Flinx was both relieved and pleased to note that the steady thrum of her wings did not distract the intruder from its ongoing inspection of the room’s contents.
Caressing his explosive collar with the fingers of one hand, he gestured expressively with the other. As a child on Moth, he had often amused himself by teaching his slender winged companion to perform a number of simple tricks. What he was striving to have her do now might not be classed by others as a trick, and was not particularly simple. It was also potentially dangerous.
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