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 sleepinghuman'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 ifnot 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
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 sleepinghuman'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 ifnot 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
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