Free Dance of Destinies (The Galactic Mage Series Book 5) by John Daulton

with each successive breath, he realized that he could. Uncomfortable, yes. Wet, even more so. He suspected if they kept him here very long, he would either drown by slow accumulation of fluid in his lungs or simply die of pneumonia in time.
    But he could breathe.
    He stared up at the alien staring down at him. He could see himself reflected clearly in one of the creature’s eyes. He would have kicked in the silvery ocular bulge were it not still twenty spans away—and if his legs weren’t bound together by a damned coiled tentacle. He thrashed around in its grip, or tried to, anyway, then relented. He swore aloud.
    The cylindrical object that had been lowered down over him, seemingly a device being used to examine him somehow, descended even closer than it had been. The half dome of black glass at the tip got so close he was sure it was going to crush him, press right through his chest and smash him into the brightly lit table upon which he was being held.
    But it stopped, only a hand’s width above him. Whirring noises came on dim vibrations from somewhere inside. The light at his back was so bright that it reflected blindingly from the dome. He squinted and turned his head.
    The tip of a tentacle flattened itself out and wriggled close to his head. It slid under his cheek like a spatula, all the way under, then wrapped around the back of his head, where it gripped him, rotating by force until he was facing the black-domed prong again.
    The machine whirred and vibrated for a while.
    Altin could see the second alien better than the first. It was reflected in the dome of black glass. He saw images of parts of his spacesuit on the creature in the reflection. He couldn’t decide if the images were in the glass or actually being created by the creature’s skin.
    Or perhaps fear was turning his brains inside out.
    Colorful patterns crossed over the creature’s body, over the image of himself, like the sort of thing in a children’s kaleidoscope. Some were very intricate. Altin thought that, were he not being looked over like some specimen in Doctor Singh’s laboratory back on the fleet ship Aspect , he might have been able to spend more time appreciating how beautiful they were.
    “Listen,” he said, his lungs sore with the brutal humidity. “I’m not sure what you have in mind, but I think that unless you wish to give the wrong impression to my people and the people of planet Earth, and not to mention our Hostile friends, you ought to go about getting to know us a bit more slowly.”
    Neither of the creatures made any indication that they had heard a word he said.
    “Really,” he went on. He had no other choice but to try. “I don’t know what passes for courtesy on your world, but where we come from, one does not simply snatch someone up and begin poking and prodding about their bodies. Not only is that considered poor diplomatic policy, it’s downright rude. And, as I understand the nature of diseases and that sort of thing, it might be dangerous if your medical skills are not up to it. Not only for me, but for you. Who knows what innocuous bit of ….” He paused, tried to remember what Orli called all the invisible bits of contamination that got into making a disease, but he couldn’t recall just then. “Well, whatever it is, you might have already caught it. So if you don’t want it all the worse, perhaps you could set me down, and we can have another go at this in a less offensive way. I promise not to hold this against you, as I am sure you can’t possibly know how things are done on my world. If there’s anything I’ve learned in my brief excursions in space, it is that there are ample opportunities to get off on the wrong foot—or tentacle—and purely by mistake.”
    He knew he was rambling, and he hoped he didn’t sound hysterical. He didn’t feel hysterical, but he didn’t suppose it was too far off.
    The giant aliens did not reply.
    “Orli!” he shouted. “Orli! Can you hear me?”
    He