Alan Dean Foster by Greenthieves

Author:Greenthieves
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-01-26T22:29:10+00:00

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Vyra was on the twentieth or twenty-first verse of the unintelligible ballad. Each was more exotically embellished than its predecessor. In her advanced state of exalted inebriation, she had surpassed heights of vulgarity undreamed of by most mere mortals. Even Manz was impressed. Her volume had tailed off, but not her enthusiasm.

He sat at the foot of her bed, watching and reminding himself that it might be counterproductive to force-feed her a deepsleep pill. He wasn’t sure if the physician’s anti-hangover tablets were such a good idea. She was having entirely too much fun, and he was exhausted.

The door chimed once. Rising from the bed, he moved to admit Moses.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“I will explain in a moment.” Artificial lenses peered past him. “She will live?”

Manz bestowed on the humaniform a look that suggested that one of the three entities currently occupying the room was markedly deficient in the higher cognitive abilities. It did not take a genius to reach the conclusion that the individual thus accused happened to click and hum when he moved.

“Does it sound like she’s in her death throes? Not only is she going to live, she’s feeling a lot better than I am.” He glanced back at the merrily caroling figure on the bed. “That may change when she starts to come out of it, though I’m medicating her in expectation of emergence. At the moment, though, she’s still crocked.”

“I realize that I should, but I fear I do not place the suggestively archaic colloquialism. Am I correct in assuming it has nothing to do with the style of functional glazed pottery of the same name?”

“‘Crocked’ is an idiomatic, as opposed to idiot-manic—which is what you are, my dear Moses—expression of venerable lineage used to describe the physiomental state of someone who has recently imbibed an excess of pleasure-inducing stimulants or depressants. In the case of humans, this often means alcohol. In the case of our off world friend Vyra, it seems that Qaraca venom works just as well.”

She chose that moment to make an exceedingly disgusting body noise. It was something of a last gasp (so to speak). Her operatic discourse began to fade, falling rapidly to an incomprehensible mumble, at which point she finally lapsed into a sleep not far removed from hibernation. There was a contented smile on her exquisite face.

And a song in her heart, Manz mused tiredly. No doubt an embarrassing one. At least now he could leave her for a while to attend to his own needs.

Gesturing Moses to silence so as not to disturb her and possibly renew the discomfiting recital, Manz led the mechanical through the connecting workroom and into his own bedchamber. Once safely inside with the inner door secured, he turned to his machine.

“I was trying to take care of her downstairs. It was nervous time and I was looking for all the help I could get. Next thing I know I look up and you’re gone. I presume you have an explanation?”

“I

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