“It’s okay, Sanuel. I was trying to clear my mind.” She glanced down at herself. “If only the state of affairs in which we presently find ourselves was as easy to tidy as my clothes.”
He nodded understandingly. “Just shove everything out in the rain and let the Big Wet wash it away. I’m afraid it’s not going to be that easy, Administrator.” He stepped aside as she moved back under the overhang, heading for the open doorway. “Can I make you something to drink?”
“You could,” she told him wryly, “but much as I’d rather be otherwise, I’m afraid I’m going to have to stay sober if we’re going to resolve any of this with a minimal amount of bloodshed and mayhem.”
“Is that resolution going by Commonwealth or Sakuntala standards?” Pandusky asked her as they reentered her office. She elected not to respond.
Maybe because she had no answer.
8
The maccaluca gazed down at the potential prey out of the shape sensor that ran horizontally across the upper half of its face. It was not so much an eye as an instrument for analyzing interruptions in the patterns of light. The unique organ of perception had evolved to automatically filter out rain, thus enabling the maccaluca to see as clearly as if no rain was falling. In the brief dry season, when this evolutionary advantage was denied to it, it had great difficulty catching food and chose instead to hibernate in the high hollows of the great trees.
Now it “saw” the three figures moving below it as sharply as if they were not currently making their way through a torrential downpour. Other inhabitants of the flooded forest gave it a wide berth. For while the upper portion of the maccaluca’s face was given over to its distinctive cream-colored organ of discernment, the rest of it was mostly mouth.