Eriau, in order to discourse of matters which cannot be treated in any
language of the Ruadrath. And in fact it was mentioned that this was
true.”
“S-s-s-s.” Rrinn stroked his jaw. Fangs gleamed under stars and Milky
Way. His breath did not smoke like a human’s or Merseian’s; to conserve
interior heat, his respiratory system was protected by oils, not
moisture, and water left him by excretion only. He shifted the harpoon
he had taken from the weapon racks inside. Sheathed on the belt he had
reacquired was a Merseian war knife. “Remains for you to tell us why you
are here alone and in defiance of the word we made with the
skyswimmers,” he said.
Flandry considered him. Rrinn was a handsome creature. He wasn’t tall,
about 150 centimeters, say 65 kilos, but otter-supple. Otterlike too
were the shape of body, the mahogany fur, the short arms. The head was
more suggestive of a sea lion’s, muzzle pointed, whiskered, and
sharp-toothed, ears small and closeable, brain case bulging backward
from a low forehead. The eyes were big and golden, with nicitating
membranes, and there was no nose; breath went under the same opercula
that protected the gills.
No Terran analogy ever holds very true. Those arms terminated in
four-digited hands whose nails resembled claws. The stance was akin to
Merseian, forward-leaning, counterbalanced by the long strong tail. The
legs were similarly long and muscular, their wide-webbed feet serving as
fins for swimming, snowshoes for walking. Speech was melodious but
nothing that a man could reproduce without a vocalizer.
And the consciousness behind those eyes–Flandry picked his response
with care.
“I knew you would be angered at my invading your cache house,” he said.
“I counted on your common sense to spare me when I made no resistance.”
Well, I did have a blaster for backup. “And you have seen that I harmed
or took nothing. On the contrary, I make you gifts.” Generously supplied
by the airbus. “You understand I belong to a different race from the
Merseians, even as you and the Domrath differ. Therefore, should I be
bound by their word? No, let us instead seek a new word between Wirrda’s
and mine.”
He pointed at the zenith. Rrinn’s gaze followed. Flandry wondered if he
was giving himself false reassurance in believing he saw on the Ruad
that awe which any thoughtful sophont feels who lets his soul fall
upward among the stars. I’d better be right about him.
“You have not been told the full tale, you of Wirrda’s,” he said into
the night and their watchfulness. “I bring you tidings of menace.”
XVII
—-
It was glorious to have company and be moving again.
His time hidden had not been totally a vacuum for Flandry. True, when he
unloaded the bus–before sending it off to crash at sea, lest his
enemies get a clue to him–he hadn’t bothered with projection equipment,
and therefore not with anything micro-recorded. Every erg in the
accumulators must go to keeping him unfrozen. But there had been some
full-size reading matter. Though the pilot’s manual, the Book of
Virtues, and a couple of scientific journals palled with repetition, the
Dayr Ynvory epic and, especially, the volume about Talwin and how to
survive on it did not. Moreover, he had found writing materials and a
genuine human-style deck of cards.
But he dared not go far from his shelter; storms were too frequent and
rough. He’d already spent most of his resources of contemplation while
wired to the bunk in Jake. Besides, he was by nature active and
sociable, traits which youth augmented. Initially, whenever he decided
that reading one more paragraph would make his vitreous humor bubble, he
tried sketching; but he soon concluded that his gifts in that direction
fell a little short of Michelangelo. A more durable pastime was the
composition of scurrilous limericks about assorted Merseians and
superior officers of his own. A few ought to become interstellar
classics, he thought demurely–if he got free to pass them on–which
meant that he had a positive duty to survive … And he invented
elaborate new forms of solitaire, after which he devised ways to cheat
at them.
The principal benefit of his exile was the chance to make plans. He