Wahgi

"Wahgi, " the voice inquired in a sweetly reasonable tone, -where are you?

Impossible Places Foster, Alan Dean, 1946- 2002

Wahgi first heard the muffled screams and angry curses as he was rummaging through the Dumpster.

Impossible Places Foster, Alan Dean, 1946- 2002

Wahgi looked up as a pair of fruit bats with four-foot wingspans settled into the tree alongside his resting place.

Impossible Places Foster, Alan Dean, 1946- 2002

Clutching the phone in one hand and the briefcase in the other, Wahgi pushed up against the back wall of the shanty.

Impossible Places Foster, Alan Dean, 1946- 2002

Instead of trade pidgin, the combatants were spewing an inarticulate mush of proper English, Strine, and several foreign tongues Wahgi did not recognize.

Impossible Places Foster, Alan Dean, 1946- 2002

“It may be valuable, but it killed Wahgi and Kuikui.”

Impossible Places Foster, Alan Dean, 1946- 2002

“Wahgi,” the voice inquired in a sweetly reasonable tone, “where are you?”

Impossible Places Foster, Alan Dean, 1946- 2002

Like everyone he knew, Wahgi was intensely curious about the wonderful things white people carried around with them.

Impossible Places Foster, Alan Dean, 1946- 2002

The case contained a number of small electronic devices that were as alien to Wahgi as if they had fallen from the moon.

Impossible Places Foster, Alan Dean, 1946- 2002

They had not paused to talk or to ask questions, Wahgi reflected.

Impossible Places Foster, Alan Dean, 1946- 2002