Flinx Transcendent (5 page)

Forcing an entrance into one of the protected private domains would be difficult for a wandering transient irrespective of species.
Those intending ill to the inhabitants would likely find themselves challenged by stringent security measures. As for Flinx, he was only searching for a quiet place to sleep away the night. If in so doing he also happened to chance upon a hiding place suitable for the longer term, he would happily lay claim to that as well. Safely inside the boundary of some scientist or noble or merchant's guarded sphere of influence, he would have a chance to catch his physical and mental breath safe from prying eyes both slitted and inorganic.

Had he not been experienced from an early age at breaking and entering he could not have penetrated the property he eventually chose without setting off some kind of alarm. That he was able to do so quietly and unobserved was a testament not only to his skills as an infiltrator but to a decade and a half of exploration that included the accumulation of a great deal of arcane knowledge about the AAnn and their Empire. The security measures he encountered and defeated one by one were alien in origin but, for him at least, perfectly comprehensible. Physics makes no exceptions for different species. The same general rules applied to security devices whether developed for use by humans, the thranx, the AAnn, the Quillp, or any of the other known sentient races with a fetish for privacy.

Once safely inside the property's fortified outer boundary and confident that his presence had not been detected, he went in search of more than just a square of ground on which to lay his head.

While similar in design and construction to the artificial desert environments that dominated the grounds of most of the neighboring estates, the one he had entered was distinguished by several especially garish motifs. The reds of the synthetic sandstone canyonets he found himself wandering through tended to be brighter, the yellows more sunshine than subdued, the naturally pale hues of orange and ivory embellished with scintillating flourishes of embedded quartz minerals. Even for the AAnn, this estate's simulated desert décor approached the tawdry. Not that the overwrought alien aesthetics caused him any suffering. He barely paid attention to them as he sought a place to conceal himself that was equally out of sight of both the main structure and the surrounding pathways.

As the night drew on, he finally found the perfect spot by nearly falling into it.

A pool on the protected property had been gouged from the earth. If its perfectly symmetrical oval shape had not been sufficient to identify it as artificial, the well-camouflaged conduits running its full length would have confirmed the observation. The clear water was stocked with native aquatic life-forms that had been genetically modified to emit varying hues of transgenic light. Not sufficient light to illuminate anyone standing at poolside, but enough to provoke admiring comments from casual bystanders. Flinx's reaction was doubtless different from that of the average visitor to the property: he found himself wondering if any of the multitude of gaudy swimmers were edible.

Despite the presence of so many small Blasusarrian swimmers, the water looked clean. Any chemical imprint was invisible. If the water was potable, that would render this particular bit of AAnn landscaping an even more inviting place to hide.

Selecting one of a dozen miniature side “canyons,” he settled into one, stripped off his outer AAnn attire, and began methodically unsealing the simsuit. Despite its exceptional powers of renewal, it was still necessary from time to time to air the suit out and perform certain minimal maintenance procedures on the interior. These could not be done while the suit was still being occupied. Previously he had performed the requisite procedures while safe in his rented quarters. Deprived of his residence, he would have to do the work here.

Though it felt strange to find himself standing outside the simsuit in the open air of Blasusarr, he was not overly concerned. The night was advancing by the hour, he had not seen any movement from the vicinity of the property's main structure, and the extensive landscaping hid him from the view of anyone on the nearest public pathway. Robotic scrutinizers and patrolling enforcers would not enter the property of such an obviously important residence without good reason and first obtaining proper clearance.

By the time he had completed upkeep and maintenance on the suit it was very late indeed. The only sounds came from automatonic desertdwellers that were nothing more than motile components of the landscaping itself. Were the swimmers in the pool likewise inorganic, or were they composed of flesh and assorted Blasusarrian bodily fluids? He could learn several things at once by slipping into the pool for a swim.

After so much time spent smothered in the confines of the simsuit, the feel of the cool water was almost unbearably refreshing against his bare skin. A creature of the air, Pip relaxed nearby on warm shotstone, content to occasionally swing her head around and sip from one of the two precision-engineered rivulets that fed the pool. Flinx floated naked on his back and gazed up at constellations that were as foreign as any an Earthly astronomer could imagine. In barely ten years he had seen many such sights, and had visited more than a few.

And if he and his friends did not find a way to stop something impossibly immense and inconceivably evil that was headed this way from behind those very same stars, in the not-so-far future those bright points of light would begin to be snuffed out one by one.

He let out a sigh. Arms spread wide, hands gently rowing, he pushed himself lazily across the pool. A perfect imitation of the real thing, the sculpted faux sandstone walls that surrounded him did a credible job of shutting out the alien world beyond. Eyes half closed, exhausted from the mental and physical strain of having to flee and avoid capture, he allowed himself to unwind in the cool, supportive liquid. Tomorrow he would devote himself to concocting a means for escaping the city and finding a place sufficiently desolate to accommodate a shuttle landing. Tomorrow he would ponder further the hostile universe and his exceptionally peculiar place within it. Tomorrow.

Tonight—tonight he would rest and allow himself to recuperate from the demands of the day. In the privacy of the extensive estate landscaping he could even see himself enjoying a full night's sleep.

So at ease did the refreshing pool, the private surrounds, the warm night, and his own fatigue put him that he failed to sense an approaching presence. Or perhaps his ever erratic Talent was simply not functioning at full efficiency. Whatever the reason, he continued to float nonchalantly in the midst of the comfortingly cool basin unaware that he and Pip were no longer alone.

His serpentine companion, however, was not nearly so preoccupied with relaxation that she failed to notice the approaching intelligence. Raising her scaly head several centimeters off the ground, her eyes flicked in multiple directions as she sought its source. Folded against her sides, bright blue and pink wings twitched preparatory to unfurling. But
instead of taking flight she slid into the water. With buoyant S-curves, she worked their way over to her master. Only when she slithered wet and slick onto his chest did Flinx fully open his eyes. Raising his head slightly from the water, he met her slitted gaze and grinned fondly.

“Lonely, Pip? Or just feel like a swim?”

By way of response the Alaspinian flying snake again lifted her head, this time shifting her attention toward his feet. Frowning slightly, Flinx backstroked a little faster as he peered into the darkness beyond the miniature artificial canyon. He heard nothing, saw nothing. But under the minidrag's prodding, he strove to reach out with the singular sense only he possessed.

Opening himself to greater surroundings, he abruptly and unexpectedly chanced across a third presence in addition to himself and Pip. It was alien, AAnn, and growing stronger every second. Startled by its unexpected proximity, he turned on his side and swam for the stone beach where he had left the simsuit. Dumped into the water by her master's turn, Pip swam swiftly and easily for the same shore.

Climbing out of the pool, intently searching the surrounding darkness, Flinx tried to dry himself as best he could. The AAnn-style backpack that was always attached to the simsuit contained all manner of useful gear and equipment brought from the
Teacher
. Ironically, what he needed at that moment was something as low-tech as a towel. Donning the simsuit while wet was certainly possible, but not very comfortable. He had no choice. Standing by the side of the pool in only his skin left him naked in more ways than one.

In any event, the presence his pet had alerted him to was dangerously close now and he had to move quickly. Making certain the simsuit was properly laid out and the tail deactivated, he picked it up by the ventral slit and began to insert his right leg. A considerably more complex piece of attire than, say, shorts and shirt, the simsuit required a good ten minutes to don correctly and another ten to verify that its multiple servo-controlled functions, from retractable claws to nictating ocular membranes, were functioning properly.

As it turned out he did not have ten minutes, much less the preferred twenty. He did not even have a couple. Rounding the far corner of the diminutive synthetic canyon the AAnn whose presence Flinx had
sensed abruptly strode into view, outlined in the dim starlight. An instant later the unsuspecting nocturnal perambulator saw
him:
an unclothed human standing beside the pool gripping what in the shadows looked like nothing so much as the flayed skin of a fellow AAnn. To the late-night visitant the sight must have been a considerable shock.

Especially considering how young he was.

That his nightly sojourns did not have formal familial approval made them all the more delicious. Wielding a wickedly curved traditional
bengk
carnage knife in one four-fingered hand, a convex
torgk
shield in the other, and a sharpened and embossed
pelgk
sheath over the last half meter of his slender tail, Kiijeem AVMd prowled the desert in search of the wily ssentoom. One had to be ever ready and alert on the trail of the ssentoom. Though not large, they were vicious little carnivores, boasting a pair of forward-facing tusks that could pierce personal protection and reach all the way to vital organs. Defiant and eager, Kiijeem wore not a single piece of body armor. He chose to hunt without it, confident in the knowledge that he was faster, stronger, and smarter than the wiliest representative of that dangerous and delectable species.

He could also hunt without armor secure in the knowledge that it had been a couple of hundred cycles since the last ssentoom had been killed anywhere within a dozen
corrls
of Krrassin's city limits. The fact that he was “hunting” on his family's property reduced the likelihood of such an encounter to practically nil. That knowledge did not prevent him, however, from enjoying the chase.

As usual, he had taken care to slip out of the residence unobserved. While such a late-night stroll would have been frowned upon by the
adults, if he was caught it would have occasioned nothing stronger than a casual rebuke over the missed sleep time. What would have drawn more serious censure was his choice to go wandering around in the dark fully armed with traditional weapons. At his age, halfway between childhood and maturity, concerns would have been voiced over his competency to handle such lethal gear. Not that there was anything on the protected property capable of harming so much as a hopping infant, and the security fence kept intruders at bay, but fears would have been raised about the possibility of an accident.

It was to avoid just such tiresome lecturing from adult nye that he always kept his intentions secret. He had carried out his covert stalkings several times previously without having his activities discovered. Each successive successful excursion boosted his confidence in his ability to continue to do so. Each succeeding stalk increased his poise in the handling of weapons, his ability to negotiate obstacles in the dark, and his growing physical prowess.

Besides that, they were fun.

A hint of movement caught his eye. He froze, dropping immediately into the preliminary attack crouch all AAnn learned from the time they were old enough to stop hopping and start running. With the bengk held low and ready to thrust and the torgk positioned in front of his chest, he advanced slowly on his quarry. Knees bent, tail cocked and ready to snap to left or right, he silently shadowed his prey.

There it was, just in front of him. Its back was to him and its eyes and attention elsewhere. Clutching the haft of the bengk steadfastly, Kiijeem contracted his powerful thigh muscles, hissed softly in expectation, and leaped.

The bengk descended. There was no cry from the victim. The point of the curved blade pierced its carapace directly behind the skull. Caught entirely by surprise, the hard-shelled bhrossod barely had time to utter a short, sharp, soft
unkk
. It was still alive when Kiijeem raised the pinioned creature aloft on the point of his blade. It was about half the length of the knife, possessed no biting parts, and continued to kick spasmodically with all ten legs. Eventually these stopped convulsing and grew still. Placing the dead animal back on the ground, Kiijeem used one clawed, sandal-shod foot to push the dead vermin off the
blade. While it was a long way from dispatching the fierce and dangerous ssentoom, at least it was a kill.