Alan Dean Foster [Flinx 08] Flinx's Folly (v5.0) (pdf)

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hesitant to form words, as if his brain were one step behind his tongue.
After their initial meeting, Ormann almost felt sorry for him. All
he could see that Lynx and his Clarity had in common was some
shared work history from her time on Longtunnel and that both of
them possessed identical exotic pets. Observing the two of them
on subsequent occasions, the notion that there might be something
deeper between them never crossed Ormann s mind.
That was a month ago. Since then, Clarity had been spending
more and more of her free time in the tall young man s company.
She was apologetic, she was polite, she was never evasive, but she
was firm. And each hour, each day she spent with Philip Lynx was
one less hour and one less day she spent with Bill Ormann.
At first, he was resigned. Then he began to grow irritated. By
the end of the month he was angry and frustrated. Angry, because
Clarity continually put him off in favor of Lynx. Frustrated, because
for the life of him he could not see what she saw in the guy. He was
taller than Ormann but not significantly. He was slimmer, not as
muscular, certainly not as handsome. Equivocal about his back-
ground and means of support, Lynx said only that he was a student
getting by on a family stipend. No brilliant future there, Ormann had
assured himself. Clearly Lynx was intelligent, but hardly brilliant.
Nor was he entertaining or amusing. If anything, he was downright
reticent in the presence of others.
So the question remained: what did Clarity see in him? What
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ALAN DEAN FOSTER
drew her to him so strongly that she repeatedly kept putting off vice
president Ormann s invitations to dinner, to immersion theater, to
the beach? For a bad moment he thought that perhaps Lynx was
some kind of spectacular lover, but observation and subtle querying
of Clarity soon quashed that notion. What then? Ormann decided
there was only one way to find out.
He would ask her directly.
She was surprised but not shocked to see him sitting on the
couch in her tenth-floor codo when she returned home from work on
Friday. To facilitate their relationship, they had swapped habitat se-
curity codes several months ago. It had never occurred to her to
change hers after Flinx arrived.
At such times Bill could be expected to be waiting for her with
cold drinks, a flash-heated supper, a big smile, and a kiss. Tonight
there were only the drinks. One did not have to be an emotional
telepath like Flinx to sense that he was troubled. His condition was
not serious enough to disquiet Scrap, however. As soon as they were
through the entrance, the minidrag launched himself from her shoul-
der and flew to its favorite place atop the decorative aerogel bubbles
that lined the back of her lake-view lounge.
Good evening, Bill. Picking up the drink he had made it was
perfect as always she sat down in one of the two chairs opposite
the couch. That in itself was significant, he felt. Prior to the arrival
of this Philip Lynx, she would always have sat down next to him.
You didn t tell me you were coming over tonight.
He fondled his own drink but didn t sip from the self-chilling
glass. I was afraid if I did you d say you were going to be busy. Out
consoling your long-lost friend again. Personally, I think he should
be pretty well consoled enough by now. Don t you?
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FLINX S FOLLY
She smiled. You re jealous, Bill.
He put the glass down on the swirl of spun silicate filaments that
formed the table between them. The small fountain in the center
fizzed with tinted energy. Damn right I m jealous. Who is this kid,
to be taking up so much of your time? Of our time. You told me after
he got here that the two of you hadn t spent all that much time to-
gether on Longtunnel. So why the extended contact now? I d say
you ve done more than your share of hand-holding.
She sipped at her drink, the pale liquid redolent of peaches and
barru, straight rum and crooked eloqueur. It burned her throat. Not
unlike this unexpected and unwanted confrontation. Clearly, she
wasn t going to be able to dismiss him with a smile and a kiss
tonight. Out of the corner of one eye she kept a watch on Scrap.
Whatever Bill Ormann said, the minidrag would let her know what
he was actually feeling.
I ve told you, Bill. Philip is just a friend. He s a complicated
man who s been through a lot. He needs someone to listen to him,
and he doesn t have a lot of friends.
Ormann grunted unsympathetically. Closemouthed as he is,
I m not surprised. He peered a little harder at her. Or is he more
voluble when he s alone with you, Clarity? What do you do to help
loosen his tongue? He posed the question with a half smile, but be-
side the big window, Scrap s head lifted and turned in his direction.
I ve told you that, too. She made no effort to conceal her
exasperation. I listen to him. I m just a sounding board for his
problems.
You sure that s the only kind of board you re being for him?
The now-alert minidrag raised its wings from its flanks but did not
unfurl them.
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ALAN DEAN FOSTER
Putting her drink down, Clarity did not even try to fake a smile.
That s not very funny, Bill. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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