Flinx Transcendent_ A Pip & Flinx Adventure - Alan Dean Foster [60]
Lord Eiipul woke up screaming.
Nothing they had experienced in their young lives prepared Eiipul's offspring or Kiijeem for that reaction. The brother dropped his pistol while his sister, stumbling backward until she pressed up against the nearest wall, just did manage to keep a shaky grip on hers. To his credit Kiijeem held his ground. Or perhaps he was simply unable to move. Frozen to the spot, he stared at the resting platform on which the noble, the estimable, the most venerable Lord Eiipul IX was twitching and tossing and shrieking like a newborn that had been cast into a fire. AAnn, especially those in their prime, did not react like this. No matter the circumstances, regardless of pain or suffering, they forever held fast to a legacy of stoicism that bordered on the fanatical.
Confronted with the unexpectedly violent reaction, Flinx did the only thing he could think of: bending over and reaching down, he wrapped both arms around the possessed nye and held him tightly as he tried to still the convulsions. While Pip slithered crazily around his neck and shoulders, he pulled the AAnn as close to him as he dared. Madly flailing claws slashed at his bare chest. Wincing from the pain, turning his head to one side to protect his eyes and face, Flinx ignored the cuts and lacerations as he concentrated on projecting feelings of reassurance, comfort, and support onto the sufferer. Uncertain how to react, desperately wanting to help but afraid to interfere, the three younger AAnn remained as they were and just stared.
Slowly, agonizingly, little by emotive little, Flinx brought Lord Eiipul IX back. Back to reality, back to himself. The AAnn's turbulent emotions calmed, the terror that had inundated him receded. An outer eyelid flickered, then the inner. His mind began to clear and his gaze to focus. Unhelpfully, the first thing they saw was the naked alien specter of Flinx hovering over him.
Instinctively, a four-fingered, claw-tipped hand rose and pushed. Releasing his hold with his left arm, Flinx quickly slid his right out from beneath the AAnn's back and moved away. Blood from the nye's unconscious, automatic clawing oozed down the tall human's bare chest and belly to mix with the perspiration that always lingered from the debilitating mental journey.
Tentatively, Eiipul IXc stepped forward to peer down at the patriarch. “Honored ssire, we have been sso truly truly vexed! We have sseen you alive yet dead. We did not know what to do, how to help.” Her gaze rose to the wounded softskin bleeding silently nearby. “We wanted to kill the vissitor—but at the ssame time we were afraid to kill it.”
Grimacing, Lord Eiipul raised himself to a sitting position. His unusually rapid breathing was the only remaining indication that he had undergone an experience out of the ordinary. That, and the dark red liquid trickling from his mouth. His jaws had been clenched tightly enough to bleed.
He did not answer his offspring, did not respond to her declaration. Swinging his legs and tail off the platform, he placed his sandaled feet on the floor, stood motionless long enough to be confident of his balance, and then started toward the watching Flinx. On the third step he stumbled and nearly fell. Alarmed, the twins broke in his direction, but he waved them off. Using his tail for balance, he resumed his slow advance on the softskin.
Halting within arm's reach, Eiipul turned his head to the left and exposed his throat. Within the room, no one breathed. When Flinx continued to hesitate, the noble reached out, took the human's right hand, and placed it against his unprotected neck.
“You cannot kill me,” he