Alan Dean Foster

Pip and Flinx: Book One. So-named because of its beautiful "wings" - great golden clouds forever suspended in space. And like its namesake, the planet attracted unwary tourists, travellers, space-sailors, merchants - a teeming, constantly shifting horde that provided a comfortable income for certain quick-witted fellows like Flinx and his pet flying-snake, Pip. The pickings were easy enough so that you with care you didn't even have to be dishonest. In fact, you could hardly call it dishonest - stealing a starmap from a dead body that didn't need it any more. But Flinx wasn't quite smart enough. He should have wondered why the body was dead . . .

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