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shrieked in protest. The formerly light Pocomchi now seemed to be made of
solid lead.
Then, just when he thought he couldn't move another step, he heard a shout
from his huge companion. Wiping aside perspiration and a few soaked strands of
hair, Flinx thought he could see a dark rectangle looming ahead of them. The
ancient portal rose a good four meters high and two across. It formed an
opening into a creeper-wrapped temple built of sparkling green stone. The
temple appeared isolated from any other structures. Its color enabled it to
blend inconspicuously into the surrounding forest.
The building was low, compared to many of the imposing edifices Flinx had
passed in Mimmisompo proper-not more than two stories aboveground, flat and
broken on top from the action of persistent, prying roots.
Apprehensively he studied their apparent destination. "In there? But it's
small, and there's
file:///F|/rah/Alan%20Dean%20Foster/Foster,%2...x%204%20-%20The%20End%20Of%20T
he%20Matter.txt (48 of 93) [1/16/03 6:47:37 PM]
file:///F|/rah/Alan%20Dean%20Foster/Foster,%20Alan%20Dean%20-%20Flinx%204%20-%
20The%20End%20Of%20The%20Matter.txt nowhere to retreat to. Can't the Otoid
...?"
"You can always try to make it back to your skimmer, lad," his rescuer
suggested pleasantly.
Arrows continued to fall around them as they staggered, exhausted, toward the
catacomblike entrance. One bolt whizzed past so close that it slit Flinx's
shirt under his left arm. Glancing down and over, he saw that the point had
nicked the skin and he was bleeding slightly.
Just ahead, several figures ducked down into tall grass. Emerald eyes glinted
malevolently at them.
"It's no good," Flinx wheezed, defeated. "They're ahead of us now."
"'How many?" the big man asked, crouching alongside Flinx and swinging the
rifle around.
"I don't know, I don't know," Flinx panted, wondering if be would be able to
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stand again with
Pocomchi's weight on his back. Next to him, Ab imitated his posture and
offered a hopeful verse.
Flinx was not comforted.
"Little devils know how to fight, how to hide themselves. If they ever get
organized, they'll run the prospectors and the scientists off Alaspin." Flinx,
in spite of his near-total exhaustion, found time to be curious. But the big
man apparently felt he had said nothing remarkable.
"Got to chance it, lad," the man decided.
"Chance it, fance it, dance and prance it," agreed Ab excitedly.
"We can't stay here and we can't go back." He started to rise. "I'll go first.
That'll give you a little time ... and some shieldin', if you can stay back of
me. If we can just--"
Popping sounds came from ahead of them. Several fist-sized globes of red fire
emerged from above the dark doorway in the temple.
Glancing higher, Flinx thought he could see a figure moving about in a long,
narrow gap in the green stone. From that position it fired a weapon which
produced the energy globes.
Where each ball struck there was a small explosion. Flames leaped briefly
skyward, only to disappear and leave a map-sized pillar of light-brown smoke
in their wake. Those Otoid blocking the approach to the temple broke and
Pied-those who were still able to. Red spheres pursued them.
"That'd be Isili," Flinx's blocky savior declared. "I thought for sure she'd
be down in the diggin's. Lucky for us she heard the commotion." He rose to his
full height. "She'll cover us.
Come on." He started for the towering entrance, running with lumbering,
pounding strides that reminded Flinx of the herd of toppers he had flown over
only a couple of days ago.
Every muscle in his body strained, but he still found himself falling farther
and farther behind.
Any second now, he expected the sharp, exquisite pain of a metal point to
penetrate his legs or lower back. But every time an Otoid raised itself for a
clear shot at the fugitives, or moved to pursue, a cottony-crimson globe of
energy would touch it, and both would vanish in an impatient gout of flame.
Then, as he was tottering down carved stone steps, he realized that he was
descending into the temple. The steps gave way to a level rock floor.
Something thundered behind him. He experienced a moment of panic, but it was
only a makeshift wooden door slamming shut across the temple entrance.
His eyes rapidly became accustomed to the slightly dimmer illumination in the
modest chamber.
Small, independently powered lamps were hung from the ceiling, mounted on rock
outcroppings.
They reached the end of the entrance tunnel and emerged into a brightly lit [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]