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anyway."
"First, that Pip continues to tolerate you." He rubbed the back of the flying
snake's head affectionately. It rose delightedly against the pressure. "You
see, I have certain feelings toward animals myself."
"And the other condition?" she inquired.
"If you ever touch my hair like that again, you'd better be prepared for me to
kick your lovely backside all the way to the Pole. Old ladies have been doing
that to me ever since I can remember, and I've had my fill of it!"
She grinned at him. "It's a deal, then. I'm glad your snake isn't as touchy as
you are. Let's go.
I have to leave a message for my superiors in case they call in and want to
know not only where their skimmer is but their lodge manager as well."
When she informed the assistant manager of the lodge, he was very upset. "But
what do I tell
Kilkenny if he calls from Attoka? What if he has guests to send up?"
"We're not expecting anyone for another week. You know that, Sal. Tell him
anything you want." She was arranging items in a small sack as she spoke. "No,
tell him I've gone to the aid of a traveler in distress across the Sake.
That's an acceptable excuse in any circumstance."
The assistant looked past her to where Flinx stood waiting impatiently,
chucking Pip under its jaw and staring in the direction of the lake.
"He doesn't look like he's very distressed to me."
"His distress is well hidden," Lauren informed him, "which is more than I can
say for you, Sal.
I'm surprised at you. We'll be back real soon."
"Uh-huh. It's just that I'm not a very good liar, Lauren. You know that."
"Do the best you can." She patted his cheek affectionately. "And I'm not
lying. He really is in trouble."
"But the skimmer, Lauren."
"You still have the lodge mudders and the boats. Short of a major catastrophe
of some kind, I can see no reason why you'd need the skimmer. It's really only
here to be used in case of emergency.
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To my mind"-she gestured toward Flinx-"this is an emergency."
The assistant kicked at the dirt. "It's your neck." "Yes, it's my neck."
"Suppose they ask which way you went?"
"Tell them I've headed-" A cough interrupted her. She looked back at Flinx and
nodded once. "Just say that I've had to go across Patra."
"But which way across?"
"Across the lake. Sal."
"Oh. Okay, I understand. You've got your reasons for doing this, I guess."
"I guess I do. And if I'm wrong, well, you always wanted to be manager here,
anyway, Sal."
"Now hold on a minute, Lauren. I never said-"
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"Do the best you can for me," she gently admonished him. "This means something
to me."
"You really expect to be back soon?"
"Depends on how things go. See you, Sal."
"Take care of yourself, Lauren." He watched as she turned to rejoin the
strange youth, then shrugged and started back up the steps into the lodge.
As Lauren had said, it was her neck.
It didn't take long for the skimmer to be checked out. Flinx climbed aboard
and admired the utilitarian vehicle. For almost the first time since he left
Drallar, he would be traveling totally clear of such persistent obstacles as
mist-shrouded boulders and towering trees. The machine's body was made of
black resin. It was large enough to accommodate a dozen passengers and crew.
In addition to the standard emergency stores, Lauren provisioned it with
additional food and medical supplies. They also took along the dart rifle and
several clips and a portable sounding tracker.
Flinx studied the tracking screen and the single moving dot that drifted
northwestward across the transparency. A series of concentric gauging rings
filled the circular screen. The dot that represented their quarry had already
reached the outermost ring.
"They'll move off the screen in a little while," he murmured to Lauren.
"Don't worry. I'm sure they're convinced by now that they've lost us."
"They're zigzagging all over the screen," he noted.
"Taking no chances. Doesn't do any good if you're showing up on a tracker. But
you're right. We'd better get moving."
She slid into the pilot's chair and thumbed controls. The whine of the
skimmer's engine drowned out the tracker's gentle hum as the craft rose
several meters. Lauren held it there as she ran a final instrument check, then
pivoted the vehicle on an invisible axis and drove it from the hangar. A nudge
of the altitude switch sent them ten, twenty, thirty meters into the air above
the lodge. A touch on the accelerator and they were rushing toward the beach.
Despite the warmth of the cabin heater, Flinx still felt cold as he gazed
single-mindedly at the screen.
"I told you not to worry," Lauren said with a glance at his expression as they
crossed the shoreline. "We'll catch them."
"It's not that." Flinx peered out through the transparent cabin cover. "I was
thinking about what might catch us."
"I've yet to see the penestral that can pick out and catch an airborne target
moving at our speed thirty meters up. An oboweir might do it, but there aren't
any oboweirs in Lake Patra. Leastwise, none that I've ever heard tell of."
Nevertheless, Flinx's attention and thoughts remained evenly divided between
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