Alan Dean Foster - Flinx 11 by Running From the Deity

Author:Running From the Deity
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-01-26T12:27:42+00:00

“I’m not greedy. I can do without the eye.” The younger male shuffled forward a couple of steps as the slow-moving line grudgingly made another of its small, deliberate advances. “But I would like to be able to be rid of this face covering. With it, I am not considered a suitable candidate for mating.”

The elderly female sympathized. “I hope the Visitant will do right by you. My hopes are more modest.” With one right forehand she gestured in the direction of the barn; so close, yet so unapproachable. “The blessed couple who serve the Visitant say that the required donation is enough to gain access to it, but I myself am taking no chances. I have been praying ever since I started for this place.” She seemed well-satisfied with her decision. “The proof that it worked is that I am now here, not far from the Visitant itself, while others in need of its aid remain back in my village, bickering among themselves.” All eight gripping flanges were wrapped tightly around the tall walking stick she used to support herself.

The metalworker and the male supporting his master looked at one another. “Perhaps we should pray to the Visitant, too,” the metalworker declared. “It might make this line move more quickly.”

Releasing one set of flanges from the walking stick, the insightful elder wagged a knowing limb at him. “What matters is not the speed with which the line is moving, but what the Visitant decides when at last you stand before it in all its glory. It is then that it will know of your honest prayers—or lack of them.”

Both males found this line of reasoning more than sensible. “Perhaps you could instruct us, offer some suggestions?” the one holding up his male parent inquired politely.

“I am happy to do so. The more mollified is the Visitant when we four reach its presence, the more likely it is to grant our requests.”

This suggestion traveled swiftly up and down the line, accompanied by much muted discussion and entwining of Sensitives. By the time it reached the barn at one end and the beginning of the line on the other side of the homestead, the steady susurration of softly voiced prayers formed a polyphonic counterpoint to the subtle shuffling of hundreds of foot flanges. Taking note of this new development, Ebbanai and Storra did nothing to discourage it. If the supplicants now chose to regard their guest as not merely gifted, but divine, it could only enhance their prospects. Who would question the payment of tribute to a god?

Knowing Flinx as they did, not simply as a sophisticated alien but as an earnest individual, they understood that if he became aware of this new development he would probably try to discourage it.

Aware that he already had a great deal on his mind, in addition to being swamped with desperate supplicants, they thoughtfully decided not to tell him about it.

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