Suddenly, something shoved him roughly from behind, so hard he almost fell.
He turned angrily, but his fury spent itself in astonishment. He found himself confronted by a large squarish monstrosity of multiple eyes and indeterminate origin.
"Negola dewaghi wooldugger?" the apparition bubbled challengingly.
Luke had never seen its like before; he knew neither its species nor its language.
The gabbling might have been an invitation to a fight, a request to share a drink, or a marriage proposal. Despite his ignorance, however, Luke could tell by the way the creature bobbed and wove unsteadily on its podal supports that it had imbibed too much of whatever it considered a pleasing intoxicant.
Not knowing what else to do, Luke tried turning back to his own drink while studiously ignoring the creature. As he did so, a thing—a cross between a capybara and a small baboon—bounced over to stand (or squat) next to the quivering many-eye.
A short, companionable arm around the snuffling mass.
"He doesn’t like you," the stubby human informed Luke in a surprisingly deep voice.
"I’m sorry about that," Luke admitted, wishing heartily he were somewhere else.
"I don’t like you either," the smiling little man went on with brotherly negativity.
"I said I was sorry about it." Whether from the conversation it was having with the rodent-like creature or the overdose of booze, the apartment house for wayward eyeballs was obviously growing agitated. It leaned forward, almost toppling into Luke, and spewed a stream of unintelligible gibberish at him. Luke felt the eyes of a crowd on him as he grew increasingly more nervous.
"Sorry," the human mimicked derisively, clearly deep into his own cups. "Are you insulting us? You just better watch yourself. We’re all wanted." He indicated his drunken companions. "I have the death sentence on me in twelve different systems." "I’ll be careful, then," Luke muttered.
责任编辑：mman
