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Mormis's manservant.
The slaver watched as the odd twosome was absorbed by the mist. "It's sure I
won't bother either of you," he muttered to himself, slipping the credit cube
into his shirt. His slave was breathing noisily now. Mormis walked over and
kicked the recumbent bulk hard in the ribs. A second kick produced a weak
groan.
Then the massive humanoid sat up. He biinked and looked up at Mormis. "I
request abjuration, master," he muttered dully. "I no excuse) but opponent was
much more than-"
Mormis kicked him again. "I know that, idiot. Get up." He found he was
shivering, though not from the dampness. "I'm in a hurry to get home ..."
"Exalla Cadella morphine centalla, espoused lost in the woods. A time to
conjure redonjure skull face from under the hoods," Ab hummed softly.
Flinx turned and called back to his dutifully trailing acquisition, disgust
plain in his voice, "If you have to ramble, can't you at least say something
sensible once in a while?"
Four arms made incomprehensible, meaningless gestures. The upper half of the
blue torso leaned slightly forward. One bright-blue eye winked blankly at him,
and the trunk atop the smooth skull weaved in time to some unspoken alien
rhythm.
Flinx sighed and continued trudging up the road. Carts were scarce this late
at night-early in the rnorning, rather. Since taking leave of Mormis's place
h& bad seen none plying the streets.
Supper still sat warm and heavy in his belly. He had eaten in a small
comestabulary partway out of the city proper. Quda chips had come with his
stew, and he had amused himself for a while by throwing the circular chips
into the air, whereupon Pip would launch himself, lightninglike, from his
shoulder to snatch them before they could hit the floor. The minidrag was
extremely fond of anything heavily laced with salt. Flinx had halted the game
only after the owner approached him to plead desperately for an end to it. It
seemed that the venomous fiying snake's dives and swoops were unnerving the
rest of his customers.
It should be light soon, Flinx mused as he neared the major route leading
from. Drallar to the city's shuttleport. There landing craft transferred local
goods to great KK-drive starships waiting in orbit and brought outworld goods
into the city. Along this broad avenue he was sure to encounter either a jinx
driver looking for a first-morn fare or one of many huge powered cargo
transports. The latter he could always obtain a ride on, sometimes with the
knowledge and consent of the operator, often without. In spite of his present
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relative affluence, he knew, old talents often came in handy.
As morning neared, the mist-fog thickened. To an outworlder it presented an
imposing obstacle to
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atter.txt travel. To a native of Moth, it was as natural and expected as a
sunrise. Drizzle ran steadily off
Flinx's slickertic cape. At least, that was the way it appeared to an on-
looker. Actually, the drops never touched the material itself. A steady static
charge kept the rain from ever making contact with the always-dry cape.
Flinx noticed a huge skimmer parked close by the last warehouse bordering the
busy right-of-way.
It was stacked vrith many tons of cargo.
A bipedal figure suddenly appeared out of the fog, stumbling toward him. Pip
was off his shoulder in an instant. Flinx started to reach for the fresh blade
in his boot, then hesitated. He sensed no aura of danger about the figure. A
shouted command brought Pip back; the anxious minidrag hovered in a tight
spiral over Flinx's head. Pip's response assured Flinx that the weaving form
ahead wasn't dangerous; if it had been, Pip would have ignored the command.
The figure stumbled onward, something gripped tightly in one hand. As the man
neared, he seemed for the first time to take notice of Flinx. His glazed eyes
appeared to clear slightly. Summoning fresh strength, the man increased his
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