Read Online Android at Arms by Andre Norton - Free Book Online Page B

pitiless and alien. Some jungle vines had rooted on their bulbous heads, perhaps by accident, perhaps by long ago design, presenting them with tendrils of hair. And these vines produced purple blooms around which buzzed a multitude of insects. But there was also a sickly scent that made Andas give an exclamation of disgust and retreat a step or two.
    Perhaps the aromatic leaves with which he had rubbed himself prevented Yolyos from catching that odor strongly, for he had drawn near to one of those figures and was peering into its blind-eyed face. Then he shook his head and came back to Andas.
    â€œI have not seen their like before.”
    â€œAnd I have seen enough! The sooner we get back to the ship, the better. If Turpyn gets there first, he could try to take off.”
    â€œA possibility,” Yolyos agreed.
    â€œCome on then!” Andas did not move until he was sure that the Salariki was coming.
    But as they went, the other still dallied, snatching a handful of leaves there, one or two blooms here, until he carried in the crook of his arm a mass of highly scented growth.
    Elys still lingered ankle-deep in the pool. Her thoroughly soaked overall clung to her. But she seemed to relish that instead of finding damp clothing a discomfort.
    â€œThe ship! If we ever want to get away from here, we must make sure of the ship!” Andas tried to make his fear plain.
    The other two acted as if they were drugged, each by his own form of pleasure. Finally Andas urged them on before him as a Yakkan herd hound might round up a flighty flock to keep it moving.
    They retraced the route Yolyos had opened and so came to the field. The ship’s ramp was still firmly planted out. Seeing that, Andas gave a sigh of relief. At least the ship was not sealed against them. Of any of the others there was no sign at all. Still that passage across the open made them targets either for an enemy in the ship or one in hiding, and it was one of the longest walks Andas felt he had ever taken. Neither of his companions was in the least hurry. Short of pushing or dragging, Andas could not make them alter their pace. Elys was singing, a low, contented hum, drawing strands of her wet hair through her webbed fingers, while Yolyos did nothing but bend his head to take long sniffs of the mingled scents of his huge bouquet. A less alert company, Andas fumed, he had yet to see. Show Elys water, Yolyos some flowers, and they would be out of a fight from the start.
    There was no sign of Grasty or Tsiwon near the ramp either. They climbed that, Andas crabwise so he could keep watch on the edge of the jungle, expecting trouble and Turpyn to erupt from there. He did not accept the fact that the Veep would give up so easily.
    They found Grasty standing over the bunk on which lay the Arch Chief of Naul, his eyes closed, his age-pinched face more sunken and skull-like than ever. The councilor looked up as they came in.
    â€œAbout time,” he wheezed as if he had not yet recovered from the blow Turpyn had dealt. “He”—he nodded to Tsiwon—“has it bad—some kind of seizure. Went down as if he were blasted.”
    The Arch Chief looked dead, but when Andas examined him, he found a faint slow beat of pulse. Again panic touched him. A trained medic might be able to bring the old man back to consciousness, even save that spark of life. But they had no medic. To his surprise, it was Elys, steaming with damp, who moved up to push him impatiently away.
    Her hands were sure, as if she knew exactly what she was doing, the fingers of the right just touching Tsiwon’s forehead, those of the left his breast above the faltering heart. Her eyes were closed as if she concentrated or listened to what the others could not hear.
    Andas was impressed by her air of assurance, enough not to disturb her. After a long moment of silence she opened her eyes.
    â€œHis heart is weak. He must go into san-sleep until we can get him to a