Free Broken Glass (Glass Complex Book 1) by John Hindmarsh Page B

see the numbers of people, human and alien, either entering or leaving the building. The street was comparatively clean with no obvious signs of disorder. He turned to Tziksis and inquired: “How does the next hotel compare with this one?”
    “About same, young human,” he wheezed. “More cost and more commission. But if satisfactory this, Tziksis happy is.”
    “Good. This will do.” He followed the alien’s instructions and used his credit stick to pay the autocab and then climbed out. Tziksis followed after a moment of hesitation, clicking and wheezing with what seemed to be concern. Steg turned back.
    “What is your problem, Tziksis?”
    “Your kindness,” came the response. “Tziksis erred. Credit stick leaves trail and enemies follow.”
    “Why do you think I have enemies?”
    “Answer simple is. Magic sword has. To be used against enemy. Also young human travel light and alone. No servant has. Simple to see, enemy must have.”
    “Well,” Steg hesitated, wondering if he should trust his intuitive reaction to the odd alien. “Perhaps you could be my servant for a few days?”
    “And Tziksis in hotel stay? Oh sir, your kindness is too human.” Tziksis clattered his claws and excitedly bobbed his eyestalks up and down.
    Steg acknowledged to himself that he was taking a risk. However he considered on balance that he was safe. He entered the hotel carrying Ebony looped over his shoulder and Tziksis followed with his duffel bag, carrying it aloft as though leading a triumphant procession. Steg was relieved when no one looked askance at his sword and he noted that most of the people in the lobby were either wearing or carrying arms. He could carry his sword without risk; however, the code required him to accept challenges once he buckled on the sword belt. With the sword over his shoulder he could avoid all challenges without attracting the disgrace of dishonor; in fact dishonor fell on anyone who challenged him. The code was strict and rigidly enforced on Althere as on Homeworld.
    After checking in they were directed to a small suite that Steg painstakingly surveyed. His conclusion was that the suite was not totally secure from possible unauthorized intruders.
    “What do you think, Tziksis? Am I being overcautious?”
    “Master youth, if danger threatens, always overcautious be.” Tziksis had followed the survey with interest.
    “I suppose it will have to do for now,” Steg compromised with himself. “How about organizing a tailor—can you arrange for someone to come here? I need to improve my wardrobe.” At the enthusiastic reaction from Tziksis, Steg continued. “Give me a few hours to clean up, have some rest—my time clock is about two in the morning and I need to adjust.”
    He closed the door carefully as Tziksis departed on his errand and collapsed onto the bed. He was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow. As he descended into slumber, sets of numbers, strangely scripted and framed in green light, flashed and were gone, too rapidly to be read. An urgent voice spoke unfamiliar words that failed to penetrate his sleep-fogged consciousness and repeated them again and again with ascending emphasis on the need for him to comprehend their message. He tossed and turned, restless, while the voice continued, now presenting the words as text rather than speech, however they sped by before he could reach out to them. He tried to slow them down but they slid away unhindered by his dream perceptions. The words kept on, hammering at his slumbering awareness with a shrilling vibration and his frustration mounted with each unsuccessful attempt to contain and comprehend the strange communication. Then he felt his mind moving, drawn by the irresistible attraction of the flow of words and symbols, and it surged, matching the flow but he still could not catch and hold the elusive mixture. Each time he almost caught the distancing pace of the flowing patterns and he felt understanding was within his