Toc238718021” class=“calibre9” id=“Toc238718021”>
Talon-tipped fingers continued to hover above the muscular back of a hand that had been etched with lethal instrumentation. One set of nictating membranes flickered as Lord Eiipul blinked back at the uncannily self-possessed visitor.
“How do you, human, come to have knowledge of that noted Tier of eclectic artissanss? And how do you come by a name that, while common, reekss of validity?” Off to one side, his offspring were gaping at the mammal in their midst.
As for Kiijeem, he stood astounded and indignant in equal measure. The softskin had revealed much to him, but in all their nightly sessions together it had never once made known this naming. A true naming. He was hurt by the omission. Of course, in withholding the information until confronted by an adult he considered to be his equal, the visitor was only doing what an AAnn of equivalent status would have done. This realization caused Kiijeem to view his human friend in still another new light. Without question his guest had told him a great deal.
How much had he withheld?
“The name was given to me,” Flinx explained, “when I was adopted into their Tier by the applicable family. This occurred not long ago on a world that lies between the Empire and the Commonwealth. A neutral world called Jast.”
“I know of it,” Lord Eiipul acknowledged. “Jusst as I know of the Ssaiinn. Your claim iss—quite asstounding.”
Eiipul IXb stepped forward, his tone deferential. “We had no idea! The creature deceivess uss! Until thiss very moment we did not …”
“Lock your teeth!” Lord Eiipul hissed sharply. The young male retreated immediately and lapsed into silence. “Have ssome resspect for your ssuperior.” Turning back to Flinx, his tone was solemn. “Your remarkable assertion sstandss unverified. What iss undeniable iss that you are a remarkable sspecimen of your kind, in wayss that are sstill to be learned. Along with how you ssucceeded in coming to Krrassin. Would I be correct in assuming that the informality and ssurprisse attendant on thiss particular encounter leadss me to believe that your pressence on Blasussarr iss not authorized by your government?”
“Wherever I find myself, I authorize my own presence,” Flinx informed his host quietly. “Since nobody else seems to want to do so.”
“Ah, chizzent. With every word you sspeak you mark yoursself as different from the resst of your kind. Will you drink with me before you die?”
Wary but willing, Flinx moved closer. “I’ll drink with you even in the absence of death.”
Careful not to strike the human with his tail as he turned, Lord Eiipul led Flinx to the far end of the room. Kiijeem and the twins followed at a distance. The tapering terminus of the top floor was dominated by a curving transparent wall many meters in height. It wrapped around the narrowing end of the artificial butte like a port on a small ship. Through the sweeping transparency Flinx could make out other costly residences illuminated by their internal lights and the glow of a moon.
Calling forth two fresh containers of liquid from a concealed dispenser, Lord Eiipul took one metal cone and passed the other to his guest. Flinx had no trouble using it properly. He had been drinking from similar utensils ever since he had arrived in Krrassin.
“Sso—you are a member of a Tier and of a family. I have never before heard of or encountered ssuch a contradiction, not even in the fanciess of playwrightss.”
Flinx lowered the cold container from his lips. “I believe I may be the first of my kind to be so honored.”
That penetrating, experienced gaze fixed him in its predatory sights. “You conssider it an honor, then?”
Flinx further astounded his host by making the correct gesture to signify first-degree assent. “I consider it an honor to be accounted a member of any family, of any species, that would have me as a member of its Tier.”
“And are you an artisst? Iss that how you gained thiss remarkable admission?”
“I can draw, a little. I can do many things, a little. In a time of serious personal need, the Ssaiinn showed me great compassion.”
Lord Eiipul executed a gesture indicative of second-degree incredulity. “All artisstss are by definition more than a little unssound in their reassoning. A Tier of artissanss …,” he hissed softly to himself. “If one sshiftss one’ss mind away from normal reassoning, I ssupposse there iss a certain sskewed ssensse to ssuch a thing.” Raising his drinking utensil, he saluted the visitor. “Iss that why you have worked to evade every imaginable ssecurity meassure and put your life at grave rissk to come here to the capital of the Empire? To practisse ssome bizarre variant of human-AAnn ‘art’?”
In a way, the Lord nye was perhaps not so very far wrong, a startled Flinx found himself thinking. He plunged onward with his explanation.
“Lord Eiipul, there exists a threat to the entire galaxy: Empire and Commonwealth and all else alike. Thus far its existence and extent are known to only a very few humans and thranx.” He indicated the staring, fascinated, and more than slightly awed trio of younger AAnn. “Now, because of my presence and my need, your progeny and their friend know of it. Any hope of countering this threat and saving all that exists seems to somehow center on me. This is not a responsibility I have sought and no one wishes it were otherwise more than I.
“As to why I came here—well, I did so because it’s something that hasn’t been done by any of my kind. Not like this, alone and uninvited. I wanted to see what typical AAnn life and society was like for myself, without an official escort. Now that I’ve done that, I believe more than ever that your kind are as much worth saving as my own.”
“How magnanimouss of you.” Lord Eiipul added an appropriate gesture of second-degree sarcasm. “How noble. No doubt we sshould be eternally grateful for your generouss approval.”
“I speak solely as a friend and mean no disrespect.” Flinx took a deep breath and tried to gaze as deeply into the noble AAnn’s eyes as possible. “As to the danger of which I speak, I can if necessary offer incontrovertible proof of its existence.”
“Can you truly?” was Lord Eiipul’s diffident reply. “You have chartss sshowing the location of thiss ‘threat’? Sstatissticss attessting to itss sstrength? Imagess, meassurementss, relevant equationss?”
“No,” Flinx admitted. “At least, not enough to convince you, or the scientists you would call upon to analyze such records. Such things are extremely limited in content anyway.”
“Then,” his host quietly demanded to know, “how do you expect mysself, or my more credulouss offsspring, or any other half-mature repressentative of my kind to believe a ssingle iota of what you are babbling?”
Flinx did not hesitate. “I think I can show you for yourself.”
For the first time since Flinx had revealed himself as a stealth softskin, Lord Eiipul’s emotions suggested a hint of uncertainty.
“Sshow it to me? How do you proposse to accomplissh ssuch? With what kind of insstrumentss?”
“No instruments.” Flinx spoke softly, matter-of-factly. He had already laid claim to the extraordinary. It was but a small leap to lay claim to the impossible. “I have the ability to ‘go’ to the place from where the threat arises. It still lies behind a region of space impenetrable to nearly all instrumentation. Over the years I have projected myself there or found myself projected there by—others. On occasion others have in this fashion shared the experience of contact with me. I have—a certain Talent.” He looked past the quietly incredulous nye to the three staring youths.
“Kiijeem AVMd asked me to share this experience with him. I turned him down. Just as I turned down your own disbelieving offspring. The threat, the danger, the cosmic specter that I have come to call the Great Evil, is not something for an immature mind to touch upon.” He returned his attention to his host. “There is risk involved. Each time I do this I never know if I myself will survive the experience.”
For the second time that evening, Lord Eiipul IX set his drink aside. “You are a bold and beguiling member of your unfortunately benighted sspeciess, which hass the regrettable quality of having amalgamated with the detessted thranx. You will prove a fit and interessting ssubject for official interrogation and probable dissection, under which circumsstancess I am ssure you will acquit yoursself admirably.” His right hand moved toward the instrumentation embedded in his left wrist.
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 soupcon 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.
“We are ready to begin, noble nye. Or at least to try. Do you have anything that will help you sleep?”
It was always the same. It was always slightly different. Different and the same. It was always horrifying.
When he regained consciousness he was drenched in sweat. At least, he reflected, by letting himself drift and be drawn mentally outward toward the distant reaches of the universe while he was naked he did not come back to reality encased in cold, wet clothes. Forcing open his eyes, he immediately looked downward in the direction of the slight weight on his chest. Eyes open, Pip was struggling to uncoil her body and unfurl her wings. She did not sweat, but he could sense her distress. As a more primitive empath, she shared his feelings without knowing exactly what he felt. This time she seemed in an unusual rush to regain her strength.
Possibly it had something to do with the weapons Eiipul IXb and IXc were aiming in his direction.
Kiijeem stood behind them. At the moment, his own emotions were badly muddled. While looking askance at his friends, he was eyeing the rapidly reviving Flinx with the usual expectation and uncertainty—but this time there was also an unmistakable trace of the innate aggression he had radiated when he had first encountered the visiting human.
Something was wrong, Flinx realized. Pip was perceiving it as well, which explained why she was fighting harder than usual to recover from the experience. She was in a hurry to get airborne so that she could protect him. Reaching down, he put a hand around her body, pinning her wings against her sides as he exuded feelings of tranquility and reassurance. She relaxed a little, but not completely. It was evident she did not altogether buy the contrived calm he was struggling to impart.
He was not sure that he did, either.
“What have you done to our patriarch?” Eiipul IXc hissed threateningly as she kept the pistol she was holding pointed directly at the center of Flinx’s torso.
“Nothing more or less than what I said that I would try to do.” In the absence of specifics he spoke as calmly as he could while facing the weapon. “Which was to attempt to provide incontrovertible proof of my story. I think that I did that. I felt that I did that, though in the state of stasis that is entered it’s difficult to be certain of anything.”
“Be certain of thiss,” her brother growled at him. “If the damage perssisstss, the next sstate you enter will be that of extinction.”
As soon as he felt enough of his strength had returned, Flinx sat up. “Damage?” A coldness began to creep up his spine. What had he done? “I don’t understand.”
Without lowering their weapons, the twins stepped back. “Look upon the Lord Eiipul, and you will.” The pistol jerked in the brother’s hand. “Try to flee and you will die, along with your gaudy pet.”
Still holding tightly to Pip, Flinx locked eyes with the minidrag before depositing her gently onto his right shoulder. Under the circumstances he was having a difficult time sustaining the emotional illusion that all was well and everything was fine. Her gaze kept darting from him to the Eiipul offspring and back again. He struggled to contain her with his feelings even as his own were seriously conflicted.
Lord Eiipul IX lay on a horizontal resting platform nearby, where his offspring and Kiijeem had moved him. The nye was lying on his right side (AAnn did not lie on their backs), eyes wide open, nictating membranes retracted, staring into the distance. Bending toward him under the watchful, seething glares of his progeny, Flinx waved one hand slowly back and forth over his host’s face. The eyes did not respond. The AAnn was breathing slowly and steadily, but he did not react to any of Flinx’s physical stimuli nor indicate in any other fashion that he was still alive. Though no expert on AAnn physiology, Flinx felt fairly confident in voicing a diagnosis.
“Lord Eiipul is in shock.”
“Truly,” growled his daughter. “Tell uss ssomething we know not. Tell uss how to bring him back.”
“I’d try some energizing medications,” Flinx told her. “Anything organic and benign that’s likely to give the nervous system a jolt and …”
“We have already done thuss.” With his free hand Eiipul IXb pointed to a nearby spiral table. A small air injection device rested on the polished stone. Glancing at the attached opaque clip, Flinx had no way of telling whether it was full or empty. “Hiss body twitchess in ressponsse to sspecific sstimulantss, but otherwisse there iss no reaction. Sshouting ssimilarly provokess no ressponsse.”
His mind, Flinx mused. It was his mind. The AAnn’s consciousness was adrift. Eiipul had not come back all the way. Clarity had survived the shared experience of a glancing contact with the Great Evil without suffering any permanent physical or mental side effects. Had he misjudged the mature nye’s capacity for coping with the same kind of contact? Was the makeup of the AAnn psyche so different that it could not survive a similar encounter?
Once more he looked down at the immobilized nye. Flinx felt he was rapidly running out of time. Traditionally impatient by nature, the younger Eiipuls would not wait forever before shooting to cripple him and then calling for assistance.
If he could not reach the benumbed AAnn physically or through eye contact, Flinx realized, then he would have to try to do so emotively.
Closing his eyes, he reached out. He had done this under pressure before. The present circumstances were no more or less threatening than a number of similar situations he had been forced to cope with.
At first he encountered nothing. Emotionally Lord Eiipul was a blank, an empty vessel devoid of feeling. Probing the alien emotive void, Flinx grew more and more apprehensive. If the paralysis extended this deeply, Lord Eiipul might truly be gone, his mind locked in permanent retreat.
There—something. A hint of awareness, cowering in the distance, enveloped in fear and anxiety. He reached toward it, projecting the most serene and soothing feelings he could muster. What he touched was not human. It was thoroughly AAnn. Certain sentiments, however, or at least variants thereof, are common to the majority of sentient species.
Dread and loathing, for example.
Lord Eiipul IX was the descendant of a long line of noble nye whose ancestry could be traced back to single-planetary origins. He was highly intelligent, a trained fighter, skilled in the arts of war, politics, economics, and status rivalry. Decades of intense competition within the fierce upper strata of AAnn society had left him scarred but never bowed. There was nothing in the Empire, the Commonwealth, or the unknown dark galactic reaches framing both that he found intimidating. Gently, expertly, with skill born of years of ever-increasing experience, Flinx massaged and worked to repair the AAnn’s tattered emotions.
Lord Eiipul woke up screaming.