Free Conquerors' Legacy by Timothy Zahn Page B

boat back out into the strait.

Kolchin waved good-bye; and as he did so, his left hand curved briefly into the "all-clear" signal. Shutting off the binoculars and packing them back into their case, Cavanagh headed down, keeping behind the bushes and groaning silently at freshly reawakened muscle aches.

Kolchin was talking as he came around the last group of bushes. "-fell a little behind on the way here. Ah; here he is."

"Greetings, Moo Sab Piltariab," Cavanagh said, gesticulating an Avuirlian salutation and casually sniffing the air. Piltariab's aroma seemed the same as he remembered it from their last meeting. A good sign. "How was your trip to the island?"

"Very good indeed, Moo Sab Stymer," Piltariab said, returning the gesture, his fragrance going a little more rose petal as he did so. "I was just saying to Moo Sab Plex how wonderfully rich and varied the aromas of the island are."

"They certainly are," Cavanagh agreed. "Were you able-?"

"Of course, you Humans are so poorly equipped to appreciate it," Piltariab went on as if Cavanagh hadn't spoken. "Your cooking alone shows that. Though I must say that sometimes your heavy-handed approach to food seasoning can be quite invigorating."

"I've often thought that myself," Cavanagh said. "Were you able to locate Moo Sab Bokamba?"

"Of course," Piltariab said. "His home is listed in the directory-I merely went there and there he was." He gestured in dreamy memory. "Now,there is a man who understands aromas. His house has some of the most unusual-"

"Ow!" Kolchin snarled under his breath, slapping at the side of his neck. "Do you suppose we could continue this conversation farther inland? These damn sea mites always seem to find me."

"Certainly, Moo Sab Plex," Piltariab said, his nostrils flaring momentarily. "Though personally I don't see what they smell in you. That backpack on the end is yours."

"Our thanks," Kolchin said, picking it up and settling it on his back. "You get everything we asked for?"

"Such little as you asked for," Piltariab sniffed. "Even the Meert-ha in our group asks for more luxuries than you two."

"We're humans of simple taste," Kolchin said. "What about the rest of the money?"

"All there, too," Piltariab assured him, picking up one of the remaining backpacks and looping its carrying straps over his neck, papoose style. "Four hundred twenty-seven poumaries. You did specify NorCoord currency, did you not?"

"Yes, thank you," Cavanagh said. Four hundred twenty-seven poumaries: the fruit of six days of painstakingly harvesting exotic sap from Granparra's hostile plant life. "We appreciate your handling that business for us."

"No difficulty," the Avuire said, picking up the other four packs and arranging them, two per arm, on his wide shoulders. "You have already paid equitably with your assistance to our mining group. You particularly, Moo Sab Plex, with your skill in hunting."

"We thank you," Kolchin said. "You said you'd delivered our message to Moo Sab Bokamba?"

"I did not say so," Piltariab said cheerfully as they left the dock and headed back up the gentle slope toward the forest. "I merely said I had found him. You will be returning to the group with me, will you not?"

"My mistake," Kolchin said. "You met Moo Sab Bokamba. Did you deliver our message?"

"Yes indeed," Piltariab said.

"And was there a reply?"

"Yes indeed," the Avuire said. "It is in your pack. You said you will be returning to the group with me?"

"I did not say so," Kolchin countered, playing the standard Avuirlian word game right back at him. "Actually, I think we're going to move on."

"Ah," Piltariab said, his odor turning lilac and pepper in an aromotional response Cavanagh tentatively decided was resignation or regret. "We will miss your fresh game, Moo Sab Plex. Where now do you mine?"

"A little ways south of here," Kolchin told him. "We found a nice stand of comaran bushes with a nest of paprra vines growing in the middle." He cocked an eyebrow. "We're having a