Foster, Alan Dean - Taken 01 by Foster Alan Dean

Author:Foster, Alan Dean
Language: eng
Format: epub

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

“Here’s my idea. If you can deactivate the barrier and we can prepare a few other residents for what’s going to happen, it means that many captives will make a break for temporary freedom all at the same time. That will allow the four of us to rendezvous. If properly surprised by the breakout, the Vilenjji will be busy trying to round up any escapees they can. They’ll have no reason to focus on us because our fellow captives will be running every which way, trying to make their short-lived freedom last for as long as they can.”

The tentacle moved. “And we four? We will not be running every which way?”

“No. At least, I hope not. That’s where you come in. At that point, everything will depend on your knowledge of the Vilenjji and their technology.”

“Thus it all comes down to me.” The fleshy body pulsed noticeably. “It would, of course. Very well. I accept the challenge, together with its concomitant responsibility. I do not think whatever you have in mind has a shed sucker’s chance of succeeding, but I am willing to try most anything to spike the boredom imposed by this wretched daily existence.” Tightening against his leg, the gracile tentacle showed surprising strength.

“Whatever foolishness you have in mind, human Walker, we should commence it soonest. Residents are periodically removed without warning, never to be returned, presumably having been sold. While I expect that to happen to me, as well as to you and to all of us who are being held on this execrable vessel, I do not look forward to the eventuality.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Walker was aware that Braouk’s recitation was beginning to draw to a close. “Unreserved enthusiasm. I believe that you believe the Vilenjji are not omnipotent. That says to me that we can overcome them.”

“The Vilenjji, perhaps.” From within the splayed mass of tentacles, the pink speaking trunk moved back and forth. “Unfortunately, beyond the Vilenjji lies interstellar space. That cannot be overcome by clever notions and primitive assaults.”

Walker nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “Then we’ll just have to think of another way to overcome it. But it won’t be done if all we do is squat here and cry in our beer.”

“That last did not translate,” she informed him uncertainly.

“Never mind. I kind of wish I hadn’t mentioned it.” At that moment, in that place, he would have given a typing finger right down to the bone for a single tall cold one. Licking condensation from the backs of his hands was a pretty piss-poor substitute.

Ensuing days saw the exceedingly odd foursome congregating in one or another’s designated enclosure.

At such times thunderous poetry, bad song, and enthusiastic howling was seriously indulged in. Only Sque did not participate in these strident vocal exhibitions. Through no fault of her own, the K’eremu did not possess enough lung power to effectively mask the conversations of her companions.

It did not matter. One at a time, a whispering Walker was able to expound on the particulars of his proposal to his fellow sentients.

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