"Go ahead."Go ahead. That's a centaur beer mug, but it's just apple juice." Nickolai nodded and drank down some, gasping. "Thank you." P'nyssa returned from outside. Nickolai hadn't seen her leave, but she returned with a plastic tube in her mitten. "This is for your nose and face, Nickolai. Looks like you got burned pretty bad." He nodded. "Thanks. Anyway, she led me into the Hall, and we went swimming at a water hole she said looked familiar. Anyway, when I came up for air the hole had changed and she was gone. I met an old man named Hal, who said he was there to keep me occupied for a while, then he disappeared. When I chased after him, I ran out onto a beach. There I met a Ssphynx, who let me stay the night before giving me a canteen of water and a loaf of bread and telling me to start walking." "The Ssphynx... he lived alone?" Nickolai nodded. "His name was Kedar, and he said he'd been living there for about eight hundred years." "Alone?" Ken asked, surprised. Nickolai nodded. Ken shook his head. "Damn Hermit Ssphynxes." "Ken..." P'nyssa sounded reproachful. "Sorry," he said. "He said that he was part of the first generation of Ssphynxes, that something was 'wrong' with them." "Yeah, there's something wrong with them. The pre-incorporation shock programming they got had a serious flaw in it, one that led the first generation of Ssphynxes into strong paranoia of other species and me as an individual." Ken shook his head. "Someday I hope to help them all. But, one by one, we're reaching them." "He said he had a friend called Nixie. What's that?" "Nixies are construction and maintenance AIs that exist in submersible housings. Sort of like Magis, but for underwater." Nickolai nodded. Ken walked over to him. "You look exhausted and burnt, you don't smell so good, and Furry here looks like she's just itching to get you alone. So why don't you to go to bed?" "I think I'd like that," Nickolai nodded. "I would, too," Furry added, grinning. "Get you to bed, then, both of you!" Ken laughed and made a sweeping gesture with his hands, 'brushing' them out of the room. Nickolai stood up slowly, the day's fatigue washing over him. |