Free Sliding Scales by Alan Dean Foster

nodded to himself. “It's spectacular. Truly spectacular. Thank you, Takuuna, for bringing me out here to see it.” The AAnn said nothing. Moving nearer to the edge, Flinx leaned forward slightly to peer into the depths of the chasm. “There's so much to see here, so much to learn. What are their nesting sites like? How do all the different species that live down there get along with one another? Is there ongoing competition for the best resting places? Are there predators who specialize in hunting the canyon-dwellers at night, when they're sleeping? Or is predation on Jast strictly limited to the sunlit hours, when most of the fauna is airborne?”
    Questions, questions, the administrator thought. And not one of them that interested him. Perhaps because a single question continued to dominate his thoughts. What was he to do? Continue to play guide and driver to this disagreeable human? Give up in disgust, return to Skokosas, and defy the directive he had been given ordering him to do just that? Or follow through on his thinking of the night before? And if the latter, then when, and how? He had yet to resolve in his mind the matter of whether this human was guilty of anything save being human, or if that small detail should be allowed to affect his intentions.
    The wind changed slightly, bringing to the AAnn'ssensitive nostrils the full, undiluted scent of the creature standing before him. It was a thick, pungent, wholly mammalian stink, and it disgusted him. Whirling away from it, he lashed out instinctively with his tail. Whether he struck blindly or with full intent, he himself was not sure. But the result, and the consequences, were the same.
    Flinx never felt it coming. Did not sense it even though his talent was functioning, because the surge in emotion he felt from his host was one of overpowering disgust, not aggression. When he did finally perceive the full force of the AAnn's underlying animus, the sense that there might be something more at work in Takuuna's mind than the usual simple straightforward animosity, it was too late.
    He had excellent balance, but he was too near the rim and leaning just a little too far over the edge so that he could see better. The powerful swipe of the administrator's tail caught him behind both legs. He flailed his arms in a desperate attempt to maintain his balance—to no avail. Pip was at his side in an instant, drawn to him by the sudden fear and panic in his mind. She could do nothing but follow him down as he toppled over the edge.
    For better or worse, Takuuna realized as he watched his charge plummet out of sight, a decision had been taken. He rushed to the rim in time to see the softskin land hard on the first sloping ledge below. The tall, lanky frame continued to bounce and roll until it disappeared out of sight over a sheer inner wall.
    The administrator waited there for a while, his attention shifting occasionally to this or that interesting ballooning creature rising from the chasm's depths or drifting down into it. A hive of faunal activity, the canyon provided the opportunity to observe numerous interesting inhabitants of Jast, including one or two that were new to him. What he did
not
see during the course of his extended sightseeing was any further sign of the human.
    Their soft bodies were not durable to begin with, he knew. He decided that there was no way, above or below the sand-that-shelters-life, that the softskin could have survived such a fall. Even if it somehow could have managed to do so, it would be broken and severely damaged. Unable to crawl, much less climb, out of the steep-sided, rubble-strewn canyon. He felt badly for the gullible and trusting human. This feeling did not last long.
    A pity, he thought as he rose on powerful legs and turned back to the waiting aircar. But such was the fate that awaited spies and agents determined to undermine the peaceful objectives of the Empire. His superiors, he knew, would understand everything once he had