Free Mid-Flinx by Alan Dean Foster

specifications were provided and no limitations set.”
    “We’ve been a long time in space-plus.” He checked one of numerous readouts. “A very long time. What are you telling me?”
    “It’s an odd entry in the files, sir. There’s virtually nothing in the way of description beyond the fact that it is Earthlike and habitable. It’s more of a statistic than a realized place.”
    “You’re telling me that it’s habitable but uninhabited.”
    “Insofar as I am able to determine from the very limited information available to me, sir. It’s little more than a listing. Unclassified.”
    Flinx frowned. “That’s odd. Why not label it a class ten and leave it at that? If enough is known about it to list it as habitable, enough must be known for a formal classification to apply.”
    “I do not dispute your logic, sir. I am only reporting what information is in my files.”
    “Is it a new entry?”
    “No, sir. It appears to be quite old.”
    “Curiouser and curiouser. Something someone wants kept secret?”
    “Not so much secret as perhaps overlooked, sir. You know that I have access to files which are unavailable generally.”
    “If you say so.” Flinx considered the refulgent orb they were decelerating toward. “I would’ve preferred Tehuantepec.” That well-developed world, with its partially above- and partially belowground society, would have been a fine and active place in which to submerge himself.
    Maybe this was better. Something completely new. Flinx had always liked surprises because his talent made genuine ones difficult.
    “Any sign of communications, at any level of proficiency?”
    “A moment, sir. I am scanning. No sir, nothing. Only the expected local and background stellar output.”
    Flinx studied those readouts whose function he could comprehend. The world expanding before him massed slightly less than Terra and orbited a little nearer its star. It hugged close a dense but breathable atmosphere. Additional details would become available subsequent to more intimate observation.
    “Let’s take a closer look.”
    “Very well, sir. How close? We are alone here.”
    The ship was being careful, as it was programmed to be. It wouldn’t do to have some lone Commonwealth survey drone note the fact that a KK-drive ship could descend to within touchdown distance of a planetary surface without generating the usual cataclysmic side effects both to ship and surface. Alone among known vessels, only the
Teacher
could manage that trick, and Flinx guarded its secret zealously.
    “I know we’re alone, but let’s hew to minimum Commonwealth orbital standards anyway. At least until we’re doubly sure nobody’s watching. Then we’ll see.”
    “As you wish, sir.”
    They dropped to the specified altitude and commenced a steady circumnavigation of the planet, moving from west to east and occasionally shifting to a circumpolar orbit. It didn’t much matter. Except for an occasional outbreak of blue ocean, the surface was practically uniform.
    There was also a vague feeling of having been here before, stronger than déjà vu but far less than certitude. He had to grin. If the
Teacher
was correct,
no one
had ever been here before, except the robot drone that had long ago noted its coordinates.
    “Visuals confirm preliminary observations,” he murmured aloud. “It looks as well as tests habitable. Wonder why no one’s come here?”
    “I don’t know, sir. There are many discrepancies in the old files. Record-keeping was much less efficient hundreds of years ago.”
    Flinx heard a deep hum and felt a weight on his shoulder. Pip had fluttered over to join him. It was unusual for her to be so active so soon after changeover, but he didn’t have time to wonder about her behavior. He was too busy staring out the port as they slowly circled the cloud-swathed planet.
    There was at least one sizable ocean. There might have been others but it was difficult to tell, since even the surface of the water was