Flinx Transcendent (17 page)

Flinx's right hand shot forward to grasp his host's left wrist and simultaneously block the mechanism that would summon aid. Each of the twins let out a warning hiss and dropped into a fighting crouch while a seriously flustered Kiijeem debated how he, as a guest, ought to proceed. Almost as soon as Flinx's fingers closed around the nye's forearm, Lord Eiipul twisted and spun. Flinx's grasp was cast off as the nye's tail swung around like a whip. It cracked through the air where the human's face had been an instant before.

Seconds later they stood confronting each other: Eiipul in the time-honored fighting pose of his kind, Flinx bent at the knees with his left leg in front of his body and his right slightly behind. Off to one side the three younger AAnn stood ready to attack, waiting for a sign from the one adult in their midst.

“I demand the right of challenge!” Flinx declared, adding the appropriate first-degree gesture. “As a member of a recognized Tier and honorable family, that right is mine to claim.”

Breathing easily in and out, Lord Eiipul studied the incongruous presence confronting him in his own home. “Thiss iss not the sstreet, ssoftsskin. We are not sstrollerss on the central walkway, well met halfway between profession and home. I losse no sstatuss by refussing your challenge and turning you over to the appropriate authority.”

Flinx smiled thinly. “Only in your own eyes.” He nodded in the direction of the three youths. “And in those of your offspring, of course.”

Eiipul found himself concurrently amused, impressed, and taken aback by this unexpected rejoinder. “You know more of our wayss than jusst how to sspeak them, sslug-thinker. Who could have imagined it? A ssoftsskin as ssly as he iss ssmart.” Flinx saw toned muscles tense beneath shining scales, sensed the rise in ancient predatory feelings that had yet to be bred out of the space-going pseudo-reptilian species, and watched as the senior AAnn kicked off his finely made sandals one by one. “Look to your loinss, human!”

“And you to yours!” Flinx readied himself as his opponent's powerful thigh muscles contracted and the nye sprang at him, crossing the space between them in a single leap.

Their intent laid bare by their emotions, Eiipul IXb and IXc each took a step forward. Their purpose was to aid their parent and end the fight as quickly as possible. Before they could even approach the two adult combatants they found themselves confronting something small, winged, and bright of body and wing. The minidrag hovered in the air before them, its jaws parted. Hesitating, brother and sister contemplated the flying creature. In their culture, a wide-open mouth was always to be considered a threat. What danger the alien organism posed to them they did not know. It was as foreign to their experience as the softskin currently skirmishing with their patriarch. But they had been taught well.

When you are confronted by something that is much smaller than you yet obviously unafraid despite the disparity in size, it suggests two things. Either the being in question is bluffing—or it is not. There is usually only one way to find out where the truth lies.

Holding their ground and facing something entirely outside their experience, it appeared that in this particular instance neither brother nor sister was inclined to test which reality was the correct one.

Flinx found himself unable to guess Lord Eiipul's age. Not that it mattered. The noble was fast, perceptive, and a master of AAnn fighting techniques. His high-velocity attack employed frequent high kicks featuring extended claws, slashing hands, vicious snaps of tooth-laden jaws, and that ever-present dangerously whipping tail. At least the latter was not equipped with an armored point, as Kiijeem's had been when Flinx had originally encountered his young host.

He could have tried projecting on his adversary. A touch of fear, a hint of uncertainty, a soupçon of indecision: any of these would have slowed the tornado of teeth, claws, and tail that Lord Eiipul had become. But in order to properly engage his Talent, Flinx needed a hiatus of at least a few seconds in order to concentrate. Eiipul did not grant him that much of a lull. The AAnn just kept coming; slashing, cutting, kicking, and biting in an attempt to bring his opponent down. A human with no experience of AAnn fighting techniques would have already buckled, lacerated and torn.

Flinx was not so straightforward an opponent. Using hands and feet he was able to block thrusting claws before they could cut and tear. Employing his greater height, he was able to fend off his foe's repeated attempts to fasten strong jaws on arm or leg. He did not strike out himself, made no attempt to cripple or immobilize his enemy. It was Eiipul's help he sought, not his death. If he could just continue to hold his attacker off, his youth and greater stamina ought to slow the contest to a point where he could simply tackle an exhausted Eiipul and hold his opponent down until he conceded.

Lord Eiipul IX was no fool. He knew when he was being toyed with. Instead of making him think, this only enraged him further. The human, a
softskin
, was
condescending
to him! In hand-to-hand combat! It was scarcely to be believed. He redoubled his efforts. But regardless of the attacking combination he employed, each time he struck, the softskin somehow managed to deflect his most forceful effort. Truly, the human was taller, and truly, he had the advantage of youth, but Eiipul felt that his long experience should have more than countered both of these factors. Instead he found every thrust shunted aside, every kick blocked, every bite clamping down only on empty air. His legs were starting to grow heavy—he could not kick as high and as often as in earlier days. His breathing was coming in longer, deeper gasps. And his tail threatened to become an appendage useful for little more than maintaining balance. It was no longer the sound barrier-breaking weapon of yore.

In addition to mounting fatigue, he was also beginning to feel the first inklings of fear.

He did not show it, of course. Not only his opponent but his offspring were watching.
Why didn't the softskin strike back?
Several times Eiipul realized that a failed attack had exposed him to a potentially ruinous riposte by the human. And each time, his surprisingly agile opponent had simply waited for Eiipul to recover and attack again.

Even though it was a strategy that had already failed several times, he decided to go low and try to take his taller opponent's legs out from under him. Once again he feinted with both hands, one after the other, bit down with his jaws, and whirled. His tail whipped around, extending his reach beyond his feet.

Too slow, he realized immediately. Far too slow. The softskin could easily step back out of range. Or worse, leap forward. A move like that would put him on Eiipul's back.

That was exactly what happened. Dimly, he heard the escalating hisses of dismay from his progeny and their damnable friend Kiijeem. Though slim, the human was heavier than Eiipul expected. The alien weight forced him to the floor. He flailed with his tail but struck nothing; the softskin was too high on his back. One fleshy but muscular arm went under Eiipul's chin, forcing his jaws closed, up, and back. The other limb—long, limber, and deceptively soft—pulled the noble's right arm behind his back. Pressure was applied. Despite himself, Eiipul let out a hiss of pain. There was enough weight behind that grip to break the bone.

The human continued to pull—and abruptly rolled over onto his own back. A disoriented Eiipul found himself dragged on top, albeit with his arm still pinned. His tail was free now to strike downward against the human's legs. Incongruously round pupils peered up into his own.

“I yield, noble Eiipul! I am defeated. I cast mysself upon your mercy.”

What softskin twaddle was this? a bewildered Eiipul found himself wondering. The alien grip on his right arm was still unyielding. The human had been in complete control, in a position to end the fight however he saw fit. Instead, he had chosen to roll over onto his back and surrender. It made no sense, absolutely no sense.

As little sense, in fact, as the softskin's mad, lunatic tale about an undetectable threat to the entire galaxy and his individual involvement in some fantastic attempt to deal with it.

Voices drew his attention. Unexpectedly released from their anguish by the surprising turn of events, his offspring were shouting wildly at him.

“Throat!” his daughter was screaming. “Tear out hiss throat!”

“Legss!” Eiipul IXb was hissing from the top of his larynx. “Dissembowel before it can risse!” Standing beside him, a thoughtful Kiijeem remained silent. Less personally involved in the preceding combat, only he among the trio of younglings suspected what had actually occurred.

Opening his mouth, Lord Eiipul revealed teeth that were far more sharklike than mammalian. Slowly, he lowered his gaping jaws toward Flinx. Off to the side Pip fluttered uncertainly.

When that compilation of razor-sharp dentition had dropped very close to the human's face, Eiipul hissed in an angry whisper, “Why are you doing thiss?”

“Doing what?” With both his hands occupied the human could not gesture any degree of guile, but Eiipul divined it nonetheless.

“Allowing me a triumph. I could not touch you and wass clearly tiring. You patronize me, ssoftsskin!”

Flinx smiled tightly even as he wondered if the AAnn noble was familiar enough with humankind to recognize the significance of the expression. “No—truly, no. I submit for the same reasons I challenged. To obtain your help—and because your offspring are looking on. While I feel no hesitation to do you injury, I would not have you lose status before them and their friend.”

Ignoring the imploring from his progeny to finish the fight, Eiipul drew back slightly. “Truly, you are the mosst AAnn of ssoftsskinss I have ever encountered or heard tell of. Your adoptive Tier sshould be proud. I would hear more of how you came to be one of them.”

Flinx's smile widened ever so slightly. “That may prove difficult if you rip my throat out or disembowel me.”

“Truly that would inconvenience conversation.” Raising his voice, he straightened atop the prone human and glared over at his offspring. His tail whipped victoriously back and forth behind him, clearing Flinx's legs by barely a centimeter.

“The ssoftsskin hass proven himsself a worthy adverssary! On behalf of our family and our ancesstorss I have generoussly decided to grant him leniency. You will oblige me in thiss matter and upon hiss releasse make no covert movess to sstrike him.” Once again putting his jaws close to the human's face, he whispered a second time. “I musst assk you to releasse my right arm lesst my declaration ssmell of facetioussness.” Flinx promptly complied, and then allowed Eiipul to “help” the vanquished human to his feet.

“Most impressive is your fighting, most impressive is your character, honored nye,” Flinx murmured humbly. “I owe you my life.”

Though expressively challenged due to their stiff, scaly epidermis, the looks on the faces of Eiipul's offspring as they gazed admiringly at their victorious parent were probably worth a good quarter-jump in family status—at least in their young eyes. Significantly, Kiijeem's expression was considerably less rapt—but he said nothing.

It was always useful, Flinx knew, when one could, to demonstrate to any AAnn, even a youth, the efficacy of diplomacy over force.

“There sstill remainss the matter of what to do with you, ssoftsskin.” Eiipul studied his tall visitor contemplatively. The anger and antagonism that had been simmering within him previously had largely faded away, Flinx perceived. The AAnn's emotions were more under control—and reflective of his continuing confusion. “I am sstill inclined to deliver you to the proper authoritiess, except …”

“Except …,” Flinx prompted him, adding a second-degree genuflection of appreciation.

“Thiss inssane sstory of yourss. I know of many ssentientss, AAnn and otherwisse, who found themsselvess driven to death by their delussionss. But you sstrike me as rational as well as intelligent. Your tale and your actionss sseem to me to be sstrongly at oddss with one another. You believe in thiss delussion of yourss sso deeply that you are willing to die to further propound it?”

“Such is the choice that life and circumstance have forced upon me,” Flinx replied coolly.

His host hissed softly. “If you are lying, or delussional as are sso many of your kind, or if thiss iss ssome kind of conjurer trick, be assured that I will learn the truth. And then I will ssee to it that you are dealt with more harsshly than otherwisse would be the casse.” His tone hardened. “Your unprecedented affiliation with a Tier family notwithsstanding.”

Flinx had anticipated and prepared for just such a response. “It won't matter. If what I will try to show you fails to eventuate—and there is never any guarantee of success—then you can have me taken away and killed and the galaxy and everything in it goes to hell anyway. So in the long run, it doesn't matter.”

His host gestured third-degree accord. “All fatalisstss are at peace with themsselvess until the knife beginss to cut. Then reality takess over.” He shifted his stance, relaxing his legs. “What do I have to do to
participate in thiss ‘experience’ you proposse to sshare? Nothing requiring elaborate or extenssive planning, I hope. I disslike the wassting of time. Not even a ssoftsskin sshould be late for hiss own demisse.”

“That's something I'm always prepared for,” Flinx admitted, “though I admit to being receptive to regular postponements.” Looking around, he searched for something soft. A hard species that had evolved in a tough environment, the AAnn did not go in for plush pillows and thick rugs. Settling on a small depression filled with ornamental colored sand, he walked over and lay down. It was as unyielding as the rest of the floor, but at least it was warmed from beneath. Responding to a gesture from her master, Pip darted away from where she had continued to confront the three young nye and rejoined him, settling down to coil herself contentedly on his chest. He regretted that he was about to unsettle her emotions. Hopefully they would become no less agitated than his own.

Realizing that he was as comfortable as he was going to get, he looked up and over at the increasingly bemused Lord Eiipul IX.