Read Online Running from the Deity by Alan Dean Foster - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alan Dean Foster
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had observed the night before, Ebbanai was moved to sympathy for the creature. When it came to a proper number of limbs, its ancestry was decidedly shorted.
“Storra, I’m sure there’s no deception here.” His Sensitives flicked toward her but did not reach for contact. “Touch or no touch, I’m confident the emotions we are receiving from this—visitor—are authentic. It’s no threat to us, and it’s hurt.” All four fingerless, flange-tipped hands gestured toward the seated figure of Flinx. “It makes no threats, though I suspect that if it wished to do so, it could. It shows no fear. In fact, the only concern I feel from it is for
us
and for our state of mind—not for itself.”
Ebbanai had voiced exactly what Storra was feeling, though she was reluctant to admit it. As the one who did all the trading and bargaining in the marketplace, it was natural that she should be the more suspicious of the pair. Staring down at the Sensitive-less being, she found her eyes drawn to the device it held that allowed them to communicate, then down to the belt it wore. All manner of interesting devices were visible there. If half of what her mate had told her was true about gargantuan machines dropping from the sky and turning themselves into sand dunes, what other possibly useful wonders might this visitor command? What miraculous devices did it possess? And how could she, and Ebbanai, possibly profit from them, and from the presence of their visitor?
It was a tried and trusted tenet that an injured traveler should be given succor. If they helped this creature, would it not be grateful? It certainly struck her as completely civilized. Though they knew nothing of its ethics or those of its kind, its comments were not those of a hostile barbarian. What did they have to lose by showing a little compassion? If it wanted to harm them, surely it would have done so by now, out of fear of what they might do to it. She still could not get over her amazement at its ability to project and receive emotions in the absence of Sensitives or, for that matter, any kind of physical contact. Thus far it had projected nothing but calmness and concern for their reaction.
She came to a decision.
Flinx knew about it before either of the Dwarra could say anything. He felt the subtle shift in their feelings toward him; from initial fear, to amazement, and now to concern.
“Up, Pip.” As the minidrag, on command, took to the sky, Flinx extended an arm toward the two natives.
After a quick glance at one another, they cautiously approached. Ebbanai slipped all four forearms underneath the alien’s right arm while Storra did the same on the other side. “Together now,” he urged the creature. Bracing himself against the support of the two natives, Flinx clenched his teeth and pushed himself upward.
All three of them nearly went down. Though no taller than the locals, Flinx was considerably heavier. Furthermore, the disparity in weight reflected more than just a difference in bodily proportions. Evolved to cope with heavier gravity, his muscles and bones were significantly denser than those of the Dwarra.
“Freint!”
Storra exclaimed as she struggled to keep all four feet under her and the hundreds of skin flaps that lined her body untensed. “Are your people made of stone?”
“I’m sorry.” Flinx tried to place more of his weight on his good leg as he hopped along between them. “My world is different from yours. Higher gravity there means living things have to develop dense muscles and heavier, thicker bones just to support themselves.”
“What’s gravity?” a curious Ebbanai asked, when no equivalent was forthcoming from the translator device hanging around the alien’s neck.
For the first time, the initial Commonwealth survey’s designation of this world as one supporting no more than Class IVb technology was confirmed in person. Flinx did his best to explain.
“It’s a force that one object exerts on another,” he
“Storra, I’m sure there’s no deception here.” His Sensitives flicked toward her but did not reach for contact. “Touch or no touch, I’m confident the emotions we are receiving from this—visitor—are authentic. It’s no threat to us, and it’s hurt.” All four fingerless, flange-tipped hands gestured toward the seated figure of Flinx. “It makes no threats, though I suspect that if it wished to do so, it could. It shows no fear. In fact, the only concern I feel from it is for
us
and for our state of mind—not for itself.”
Ebbanai had voiced exactly what Storra was feeling, though she was reluctant to admit it. As the one who did all the trading and bargaining in the marketplace, it was natural that she should be the more suspicious of the pair. Staring down at the Sensitive-less being, she found her eyes drawn to the device it held that allowed them to communicate, then down to the belt it wore. All manner of interesting devices were visible there. If half of what her mate had told her was true about gargantuan machines dropping from the sky and turning themselves into sand dunes, what other possibly useful wonders might this visitor command? What miraculous devices did it possess? And how could she, and Ebbanai, possibly profit from them, and from the presence of their visitor?
It was a tried and trusted tenet that an injured traveler should be given succor. If they helped this creature, would it not be grateful? It certainly struck her as completely civilized. Though they knew nothing of its ethics or those of its kind, its comments were not those of a hostile barbarian. What did they have to lose by showing a little compassion? If it wanted to harm them, surely it would have done so by now, out of fear of what they might do to it. She still could not get over her amazement at its ability to project and receive emotions in the absence of Sensitives or, for that matter, any kind of physical contact. Thus far it had projected nothing but calmness and concern for their reaction.
She came to a decision.
Flinx knew about it before either of the Dwarra could say anything. He felt the subtle shift in their feelings toward him; from initial fear, to amazement, and now to concern.
“Up, Pip.” As the minidrag, on command, took to the sky, Flinx extended an arm toward the two natives.
After a quick glance at one another, they cautiously approached. Ebbanai slipped all four forearms underneath the alien’s right arm while Storra did the same on the other side. “Together now,” he urged the creature. Bracing himself against the support of the two natives, Flinx clenched his teeth and pushed himself upward.
All three of them nearly went down. Though no taller than the locals, Flinx was considerably heavier. Furthermore, the disparity in weight reflected more than just a difference in bodily proportions. Evolved to cope with heavier gravity, his muscles and bones were significantly denser than those of the Dwarra.
“Freint!”
Storra exclaimed as she struggled to keep all four feet under her and the hundreds of skin flaps that lined her body untensed. “Are your people made of stone?”
“I’m sorry.” Flinx tried to place more of his weight on his good leg as he hopped along between them. “My world is different from yours. Higher gravity there means living things have to develop dense muscles and heavier, thicker bones just to support themselves.”
“What’s gravity?” a curious Ebbanai asked, when no equivalent was forthcoming from the translator device hanging around the alien’s neck.
For the first time, the initial Commonwealth survey’s designation of this world as one supporting no more than Class IVb technology was confirmed in person. Flinx did his best to explain.
“It’s a force that one object exerts on another,” he
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