Thyron found it tremendously amusing that the crew of the Cerulean Nimrod thought he was good luck. Being subhuman, of course they believed in such rot, their brains insufficiently developed to comprehend an existence beyond grunts.
Oddly enough, by Sapphiran definition he probably was. Manipulating the most powerful force in the universe, where he spent the greater part of his existence, undoubtedly affected the events around them. Not random or happenchance, rather orchestrated, his appropriate use of energy resulted in more positive outcomes. To them it was luck. To him it was proper sequencing of events.
The frequency of Sapphiran psi waves was too low for him to detect, primarily because their brains were too simple to engage in high order communication. Indeed, their language consisted largely of hand gestures and body sounds. Yet this wasn't a problem. They were so low on the behavioral complexity scale that observation told him all he needed to know.
The assignment they'd contracted for was simple. Retrieve a pre-adult human girl expected to arrive on a planet being bombarded by celestial debris. Anyone with a fully developed brain would question such a task on any number of fronts. Not so the Sapphirans. Of course they had no intention of fulfilling it in the contractual sense, either.
Yes, they'd go to Verdaris, yes they'd retrieve the girl but that was where their plan deviated. After all, they already had a substantial part of their payment, the Cerulean Nimrod. The ship’s name meant “Blue Hunter”, which was lost on its illiterate crew and showed incredible ignorance on the part of the supplier.
Not surprising, Thyron thought. Humans weren't very high up the scale, either.
His preliminary samplings, however, of their quarry's consciousness had shown amazing promise, which was apparently why there was interest in her rescue, at least from the human standpoint. The Sapphiran viewpoint was yet another and his own another still. Vegemals synthesized and processed information at a rate far beyond that attained by their faunal counterparts. Unencumbered by blood, muscles and nerves, their substance permitted an entirely different view of things. Thriving on light had its benefits.
Time, for example, was of little import. Even flora that fell victim to seasons either put forth new growth or lived on in their seed in a quite literal sense. As flauna, or intelligent plant life, he couldn't see the future, but he could predict it, based on the feelings and motivations of the parties involved. He knew exactly what was going to happen when they got to Verdaris. Surprises were inevitable.
And without question, there was something in it for him.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish