Slave Race: 16/?
by Nan Smith and Linda Garrick
"And again, why?"
"Because... because I took Lady Frishville away from Yoogashvor and brought her to Comishvor. Gootishville was awfully mad at me for that. She didn't want Comishvor to have any other Ladies."
Blashvor's eyebrows went up. "Did not Lord Comishvor protect you from her?"
"No, M'lord. He said he would, but he never did. I think it was easier for him to just ignore it."
"Incredible!" Blashvor released his chin. "You do him a great favor, incur the wrath of his Lady, and he refuses to protect you?"
"What a trenchcrawler!" Jason said.
"That is sufficient, Jason." The Jilectan's tone was mildly reproving. "Tell me, Cory, why should you protect Comishvor's interests when he has treated you so unfairly?"
"It isn't Comishvor, sir. It's my friend, Edwin. I don't want anything to happen to him, and right now Comishvor's the only protection he has."
"I see. Will it make a difference if I give you my promise that, should I defeat Comishvor, I will make every effort to see that no harm comes to Edwin?"
"You can trust him, Cory," Jason put in, eagerly.
"Jason," Blashvor said reprovingly. "I am quite able to speak for myself. Cory, if I should find it necessary to attack Comishvor, I shall try to spare anyone whom you ask me to spare. I give you my sacred word as a Jilectan."
Cory stared at him. "You're... very generous, sir."
A benign smile. "What psychic power did your friend, Edwin, use which enabled him to save me from my brother's vengeance?"
Cory hesitated, then made up his mind. "He's an illusionist, sir."
"An illusionist?" Blashvor's expression remained blank for an instant, then became understanding. "An illusionist? He can make his victim see what is not there?"
"Yes sir."
Trevor snorted. "I never heard of such a thing. He's lying, sir."
"I think not. My father saw something that nobody else saw when he was preparing to shoot Comishvor. Dishvor apparently did the same when he was about to shoot me. What did your friend make my brother see, Cory. Did he tell you?"
"Patrolmen, sir--a... a whole squad of them charging into the room."
Blashvor's face split into a grin. "And my father?"
"The blaster he held set on overload."
"Ah, that explains why he hurled the weapon away. Your friend caught it, through telekinesis, no doubt, and nearly succeeded in taking my father hostage."
Cory looked down again. "Yes sir."
"Excellent. And Edwin is still with Comishvor, Cory?"
"Yes sir."
"And he is your psychic partner?"
"My what, sir?"
Blashvor regarded him levelly. "You do not know what a psychic partner is?"
"Edwin is my friend, sir."
"Of course, of course. And you will protect him with your life if need be. Am I correct?"
Cory found himself meeting the Jilectan's eyes. "If need be, sir."
"I suspected so. And, now that you have escaped, no doubt your friend will also try to escape."
"Yes sir."
"And you must have arranged a meeting place ahead of time."
"Not... exactly, sir."
"Why not?"
"Because Comishvor would probably find out. I just hope he doesn't hurt Ed."
"Would he?"
"I don't know." Cory had to swallow hard. "He might."
"What would he do?" Jason asked.
"He'll try to make him tell where I was going. We had established Corala. Ed'll probably refuse."
The pilot spoke from the control room. "Coming up on the ship, sir."
Cory turned to Blashvor again. "M'lord, please let me go! If Ed shows up and I'm not there..."
"But you will be there, my psychic."
"M'lord?"
"I would very much like to have your friend, as well as you." He smiled charmingly. "Do not fear for him. He will be greatly prized and carefully protected if I can get possession of him, and I have no ladies who would dare act as M'lady Gootishville." He smiled benignly. "You may rise, my psychic. We now will go aboard my ship and you will eat and rest for a time. Then we shall return to Corala and seek your friend. You shall direct me to the place you believe he is most likely to be."
Cory stood up. Blashvor continued. "As long as you obey me, Terran, you will be well treated. Any treachery will be severely punished, however. You may keep your shields up, except when in my presence. Lower them now."
Cory hesitated. "May I ask why, sir?"
"Because I wish to be certain you have been telling me the truth, of course."
"You'll find the location of Comishvor's base from me."
"How can you retain loyalty toward Comishvor?"
"I don't. But my friends..."
"I gave you my promise, Terran. Your friends will not be harmed."
Cory threw in his cards and let his shields relax. The Jilectan leaned forward, catching him firmly by one arm as he flinched back. A large, jeweled hand was pressed against the side of the Terran's face. Cory felt the probe, and forced himself to remain still and passive. The process didn't take long. Less than a minute later Blashvor released him, smiling as though highly pleased.
"A powerful psychic in truth! You have done well, Jason and Trevor!"
"Thanks, sir," the boy said.
"Thank you, M'lord," Trevor said.
"Take him with you now and let him clean up. Give him a good meal and some decent clothes." The Jilectan surveyed Cory's torn, stained jumpsuit disdainfully. "Some of Fenton's should fit him."
"Yes sir." Jason beckoned to Cory. "C'mon, Cor. We're aboard the mother ship now. I'll show you around. You'll like it here, really."
Cory looked down at the boy, then up at the tall form of Trevor. "Thanks."
Jason dropped gracefully to his knee once more, rose, and motioned to Cory. Cory bowed to the Jilectan.
Blashvor gestured casually. Jason took Cory's arm and led him toward the scout's hatch. Trevor also knelt, rose and followed the two psychics out.
Blashvor's ship was large--bigger by far than Comishvor's, and apparently containing more crew. Pirates passed them, grinning at Jason, or calling a greeting to him. They eyed Cory curiously, but no one questioned his two companions. Cory noted that the pirates passing were, by and large, more gaudily clad than those aboard Comishvor's ship. A Jilectan Lady approached them, and Cory jumped to one side, bowing deeply, but the Lady only smiled, patting Jason's head as they passed, and glancing provocatively under her lashes at Trevor.
Cory cleared his throat and spoke to his escort. "He... seems very nice."
"He is," said Jason.
"You like him?"
"Sure do."
"How about you, Mr. Trevor?"
The big man grunted. "Yeah, he's not bad for a Jilectan."
Cory's eyes went to the holster belt, half concealed by Jason's loose jacket. "He lets you carry blasters?"
"Huh? Of course. Didn't Comishvor let you?"
"No. Never."
They reached a door in the corridor that slid open. Trevor ushered him inside. Jason closed the panel and turned a frankly puzzled face to the prisoner. "Why didn't he let you carry a blaster?"
Cory hesitated. "Well, he never said why, exactly. He just never let us."
"Weren't you loyal to him?"
"We were until Lady Gootishville started harassing us."
"Then why. .."
"Insecurity," Trevor said. "He was scared of you."
"He never seemed scared of us." Cory looked around at the fantastically decorated room. "Wow! This is nice!"
"Yeah. The shower's in there." Jason pointed. "Go ahead. I'll call Fenton. He's another one of Blashvor's psychics, and his clothing'll just about fit you." He paused, and his expression became sympathetic. "You're worried about your partner, aren't you?"
Cory nodded. "And my wife. I left her, too, when I ran away."
"Oh. You're married." Jason came a step closer. "You think Comishvor'll take it out on Ed and your wife because you escaped?"
"Probably not on Miriam. She had nothing to do with it. But Ed knew what I was doing and he told me telepathically to go on. I'm sure Comishvor didn't know yet--in fact, Ed told me Comishvor thought I was dead. But that couldn't last. Comishvor will find out--probably already has."
"What'll he do to him?"
"He'll try to make him tell where I went."
"And if Ed won't?"
"I don't know. Beat it out of him, maybe."
"He'd do that?"
"He's hit us before, but he's always careful not to do any bad damage. Why? You mean Blashvor's never hit you?"
The boy shook his head. "How bad do you think it'll get? Will he be so mad he loses it and... really hurts him?"
Cory swallowed. "He... really prizes Ed. Ed's a terrific psychic--powerful and versatile. There aren't many who can match him."
"So Comishvor probably'll take it easy?"
"I don't know. He told us once that if we cease to be useful to him, he'd get rid of us. And if Ed won't obey him, then he isn't useful anymore, is he?"
"No, but Ed won't refuse to obey him, will he? He just won't tell him where you are."
"I suppose so."
The boy was looking at him keenly. "There's something else, isn't there." It was not a question.
"Yes. You see... it's just that sometimes when Comishvor gets scared or really mad, he acts on impulse, and then regrets it later when it's too late."
"So he could really hurt him bad?"
Cory nodded without speaking.
"Gosh. I'd better go tell Blashvor!"
Trevor put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "He probably knows already, Shorty. He read him, you know."
"But he might not have seen that part. He was just scanning to be sure Cory'd told him the truth."
"Look." Trevor turned to Cory, and his gruff voice was surprisingly gentle. "You go get cleaned up, little guy, and pull yourself together. Jason'll report what you just told us to Blashvor, and I'll get you something to eat."
Cory looked into the two faces before him. The boyish concern of the psychic boy and the rough features of the man seemed suddenly to release a tight knot inside him. He felt the lump form in his throat again and swallowed hard.
"Thanks," he muttered, and turning, retreated into the bathroom.
**********
Chapter 20
"Is he seriously injured?"
Dr. Jocki, bending over the still form of Edwin White, replied without looking up. "Yeah, sir, he is. What happened to him?"
"That is none of your concern, Jocki. How bad is it?"
Jocki ran the scanner across the psychic's forehead. "Severe concussion, hairline skull fracture, whiplash, broken shoulder blade, three ribs fractured."
Jack, from the infirmary door, stared in horror at the scene. No one needed to tell him what had happened. The Jilectan pirate had beaten the Terran psychic because the Terran psychic had defied him. The little man had been working for the Jilectan. He had been subservient and obedient, and still he had been punished. And Jack, himself, was in the power of this brutal creature.
Of the journey to this place, Jack remembered nothing. He had awakened as they arrived at the mother ship, and had, at first, been aware of little, save that he was guarded and in the presence of a Jil. But the alien had seemed completely uninterested in him. As Jack had become more aware of his surroundings, he realized that the alien's attention was all for the young man who lay still and quiet on the fold down bunk beside him, face ashen. Then they had arrived at the larger ship, and Jack had been herded along by a gaudily dressed Procyon. M'lord had never glanced toward him, but carried the unconscious man carefully and gently through the airlock. The Procyon escorting Jack, and two Terrans accompanying them, never spoke, their eyes fixed fearfully on the Jilectan. Aloof from them all, walked the Lady, tall, slender, blond, and ugly. Jack had tried not to look at her, and had found it difficult not to. She was so striking in her stature and dress, but her features, hardly prepossessing to begin with, were twisted by some emotion he could not fathom, which made them utterly hideous.
The injured Terran had been taken into what was clearly an infirmary and a gaudily dressed Terran examined him. Jack cowered away in terror, afraid that the Jilectan's temper would now turn on him. The big alien glared at the doctor, as though the psychic's injuries were his fault. "Will he recover?"
"I don't know, sir. It depends upon the extent of the damage. Right now it doesn't appear too good. I need to know what hit him, sir."
The Jilectan's face hardened even more. "I hit him. He defied my direct command."
"How many times, sir?"
"I am not certain. Three. Perhaps four. The last time he fell and hit his head on a rock."
"I see, sir."
The Jilectan turned away, saw Jack in the doorway and spoke furiously to the Procyon. "Take him away! What kind of fool *are* you, bringing him here?"
A Terran came over, took his other arm, and together the two led him from the room.
He stumbled down a corridor between his captors. They didn't speak, and he recognized fear in their expressions. Jack cleared his throat and found his voice.
"What th' hell does he want with me, Mister?"
No answer. His captors didn't look at him, but led him into another room, stepped in after him, and shut the door. They took their places on either side of the panel, watching him. Jack stood irresolute for a moment in the center of the room, then looked around, taking in his surroundings.
His prison was large and luxurious, obviously fitted for two, with two large beds, delicate furnishings and exquisite decorations. There was a deep, soft carpet on the floor.
His guards were speaking in low voices, assuming, he supposed, that he couldn't hear. But Jack had excellent hearing, and their words were perfectly clear to him.
"I hope he'll be okay." That was the Terran. The man sounded like home. A Shallockian.
"Yesh, I alsho. I am rather fond of the little fellow."
"A little soft in the head, but awful likable. And if he dies, we won't have no psychics at all--except this little kid here. Damn! Why can't Comishvor learn to control that temper of his?"
"Be shtill, you fool, or it will be directed at you, next."
Jack bit his lip. "Will he do that to me, too?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Shut up, kid." The Terran scowled at him. "Dammit, I didn't think o' that. You probably heard every word we said, right?"
In sudden panic, Jack flung himself at the door, seeking to open it. The Procyon guard caught him, restraining him without visible effort.
"Easy, kid," said the Terran. "Nobody's gonna hurtcha."
"Lemme go! Please, lemme go!"
"Can't. Sorry. His Lordship wants you to stay right here. Listen, ease up. His Lordship ain't gonna hurtcha."
"Oh, sure! Just like he didn't hurt that other guy! Why did he do that to him? Was it 'cause he was a psychic?"
"It was 'cause he didn't do what he was told."
"But he *is* a psychic, isn't he?"
"Yeah, but that ain't the reason."
"But what does he want with me? This is a pirate ship, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is."
"I won't be any good as a pirate!"
"No. But His Lordship needs psychics. You knew you were a psychic, didn't you?"
Jack was silent. He had suspected, of course. What psychic wouldn't in this day and age? The Terran grinned faintly, reading his expression, no doubt. "He needs guys like you, buddy--but not for rewards, or anything like that. He needs you to work for him."
"You mean, use my psychic powers for him? Why doesn't he just use his own?"
"'Cause Terran psychic talents are better for his line o' work. He needs precogs and teleports. You able to do either of those things, kid?"
"I don't know."
The man let him go. Jack ran to another door, the only other one in the room, and yanked it open. It led, as he had suspected, to a bathroom.
There was a tap on the door. The Procyon opened it to admit a young woman. She stopped short upon seeing Jack and his guards. Her dark eyes widened. "What's going on here, Gary?"
The Terran grinned at her. "M'lord's new psychic, honey."
"Really?" She surveyed the boy with interest. "Hi."
She was pretty, he noticed absently, with long, dark hair, tied back with a sparkling red ribbon. Her eyes were almond shaped and wide set, her skin a smooth olive hue. Her smile was beautiful, and he found himself smiling back.
"Hi," he said.
"I'm Miriam. What's your name?"
"J... Jack."
"Jack what?"
"Just Jack."
"You don't have a last name?"
"No. I'm an orphan. My mother abandoned me when I was just a baby."
"Oh." Her face softened. "What a stupid lady to abandon a cute kid like you! How old are you?"
"I figure about ten or eleven. I've been at the orphanage ten years, and they said I wasn't walkin' when I arrived." He swallowed hard. "Please, ask him to let me go, Miriam."
"Honey, he isn't going to let you go."
"Please! I won't be any use to him! I don't even know how to use my psychic powers! I'll goof up or somethin' an' he'll kill me! Can't you talk to them?" He lowered his voice, glance flicking to his guards. "The Terran guy likes you. Tell him to let me go!"
"Honey, it's no use. He can't. If he does, Lord Comishvor'll get mad at him. Now look, don't be scared. M'lord isn't going to hurt you."
"He hurt that other guy!"
"What other guy?"
"Ed."
"Ed's been hurt?" She turned to Gary. "What happened?"
Gary looked uneasy. "He sassed M'lord, Miri."
"Why?"
"'Cause Ed..." The man cleared his throat. "Cause Ed wouldn't tell him where Cory'd gone."
Her eyes widened. "Cory's gone? You mean, he got away?"
"Yeah. Sh, don't look so happy. Comishvor's p.o.'d."
"The Lady make another try for him?"
Gary cleared his throat, eyes wavering. "Yeah."
"I knew she would, and so did he."
"I guess everyone knew it," said Gary. "We just didn't talk about it much."
"Yeah. Well, good for Cory, although I guess it leaves me in something of a bind."
"Why?"
She shrugged. "Where do I go now?"
He grinned. "My quarters?"
"Forget it."
"Maybe the Jil'll let you go," Jack suggested in a small voice. "I mean, you ain't a psychic or nothin', are you?"
"No. But he still won't let me go."
"Why not?"
She hesitated, then shrugged again. "He just won't."
"He might, sweetheart," Gary said. "You're no danger to him."
"No," the girl said, quietly. "He won't--not after Dr. Jocki tells him what he found out while you guys were cavorting around down there on Shallock."
"What'd he find out?"
"I'm pregnant."
"Holy space! Did Cory know?"
"No, I don't think so. I wasn't sure myself until two days ago, and I didn't tell him I suspected."
"Why not?"
"I figured he had enough to worry about."
"Why should he keep you just 'cause you're pregnant?" Jack asked, puzzled. "I'd think he'd want to get rid of you if you're gonna have a baby. I never heard of pirates who like babies."
She smiled gently at the little boy. "I'm Cory's wife. The baby might be a psychic."
"And if it is?" Jack stared at her. "What can a baby do, psychic or not?"
"Nothing right now, but in a few years..."
"And if the baby ain't a psychic?"
"Then he might let me go." She sighed. "In the meantime I might as well make myself useful. They're going to need someone to take care of you."
"I can take care of myself."
"Of course you can, but now that Cory's gone and Ed's hurt, I'll need a friend."
"I'll be your friend," Gary said.
"Shut up. Are you hungry, Jack?"
"Yeah."
"Go get him something to eat, Ch'Fink."
"You will shtay with him, Miriam?"
"Yes. Go on, now. Poor kid looks half starved."
Ch'Fink departed.
"And you ought to have some decent clothes." The girl surveyed him appraisingly. "There's nothing on board that'll fit you, but I'll modify some of Cory's things for you..."
The door opened and the Jilectan entered. Jack shrank against Miriam as the alien approached. He surveyed the two Terrans dispassionately for a moment, then jerked his head. "Get out."
Gary went out. Miriam followed him to the door, then hesitated. "Can I stay, sir? The kid's awful scared."
"Very well." He made an impatient gesture, never removing his gaze from Jack. "What is your name, boy?"
"J...J... Jack, sir."
Miriam came back to him and rested her hands lightly on his shoulder. He felt better with her there, although logically he knew there was nothing she could do to help him.
"Were you aware you are a psychic?"
Jack gulped. "I... uh, suspected it, sir."
"Are you able to read minds?"
"I don't think so. Oh, sir, I don't really think I'm a very good psychic. I don't think I can precognate or teleportate or anything like that. I won't be any use to you. Please, let me go!"
"Be still!" The Jilectan's reply was cold as an icicle. "Regardless of what talents you possess, you will remain with me and serve me. If you refuse to serve me, you will die. You are a psychic--a condemned criminal. You live only by my sufferance. Do you understand?"
"Y... yes sir."
"When you are in my presence, you will kneel, and will not rise until I give you leave to do so."
Jack knelt. The Jilectan scowled down at him. "I have been too lenient with my psychics. It ends now." He spoke to Miriam. "You will also kneel, woman."
Miriam also did so. "M'lord, I knew nothing of what happened. Cory said nothing to me."
"Silence!" The Jilectan turned haughtily away and went to the door. "You will keep the boy here, woman, and will care for him. He appears very frail, and quite starved. If he becomes ill, I will be displeased with you."
"Yes, M'lord," Miriam said.
The Jilectan paused at the door and turned back to the two kneeling Terrans. "Did your husband ever mention to you where he and Edwin intended to rendezvous if one of them ever escaped?"
She shook her head. "He never mentioned it, sir. Won't Ed say anything?"
"SILENCE!" The Jilectan's voice shook the bulkheads. "You are a Terran! You have no right to question me!"
"I wasn't, sir, I just..."
He came across the room toward her, fist lifting. Miriam shrank back, lifting her hands to shield herself. The Jilectan paused, towering over her for a moment, fury radiating from him. Then his fist dropped.
"If you were not carrying my psychic's child, you would regret your impertinence! I will tolerate no more disrespect from lower species!"
"I beg your pardon, M'lord," whispered the girl.
Lord Comishvor turned in a swirl of robes, strode to the door, and went out. As the panel slid shut behind him, Miriam sank back on her heels, turning wide, frightened eyes on Jack.
"My goodness! What's *happened* to him? He never used to act like that. In fact, he never used to pay much attention to me at all."
"He's mad 'cause his psychic got away," said Jack. "An' the other one might die."
"Ed might die? He's hurt *that* bad?"
"The doc said he was."
"I ought to go see him."
"He's out cold, an' the doc said he might die."
The girl rose to her feet and Jack watched her, feeling numb. The door opened and Ch'Fink entered, a tray in his hands.
"I hope you like Terran ham, boy."
"I've never tasted it. What is it?"
"It's good," said Miriam distractedly. "Eat it."
Jack sat down at the table and picked up the huge sandwich that the Procyon had placed before him. The bread was white and soft, and the ham proved to be tender, light pink meat with a salty, delicious flavor, well marbled with fat. Jack had never tasted anything so good. Along with it was a glass of real milk and some crisply fried vegetables. Miriam sat down at the table with him and watched him eat. The Procyon went out.
"Like it?" she asked.
"It's great. I ain't never tasted anythin' so good!"
"I'll get you some cookies, too." She went over to a compartment and opened it. "I made these for Cory and Ed, so you may as well have them."
Jack finished the sandwich and gulped down the milk. "Thanks, Ma'am."
"Aw, c'mon, call me Miriam. What did Dr. Jocki say was wrong with Ed?"
"Uh..." Jack bit into a cookie. He had never had a real cookie before. At the orphanage the kids lived on watered down broth and stale bread. "He said he had a con... concussion."
"What else?"
"Uh... his collarbone was broken, and lots of other things. Man, these are good!"
"Glad you like them." She stood up and went to the phone on the desk, pressing buttons. The screen above it came on with the face of a feathered Procyon.
"Yesh?"
"How's Edwin doing?"
The Procyon clacked his beak. "The doctor is operating now. He is bleeding."
"Bleeding? Where?"
"Inside his head."
"My God! Is he going to be okay?"
"I don't know."
"Thanks." Miriam switched off and turned away. Jack saw her wipe a tear away. He looked down.
"I'm sorry. Did you like him a lot?"
"Everyone liked Ed. He was the nicest guy I've ever known--except for Cory."
Jack stood up, cookie in hand. He wanted to help her, but there was nothing he could do. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
She came across to him and put an arm around him. "Eat your cookie."
**********
Chapter 21
Corala
October 9th, 2185
1030 Sunday
The aircar cruised above the town of Franik. Cory concentrated, his face set, scanning the town below for a glimmer of Edwin's mind. There was none. Beside him sat two men from Blashvor's ship, watching him.
This was the sixth foray they had made to Corala since he had been taken by Blashvor. At first, Blashvor had accompanied him when he had gone to Corala to search for his friend, but the last two times he had been permitted to go alone with only a bodyguard. And why not? He fully intended to return, and the Jilectan knew it. Blashvor was a totally different type of Jilectan than Comishvor. On Blashvor's ship there was trust and respect for the psychics. Nestled on Cory's hip, carefully concealed by his stylish tunic, was a small, but very efficient blaster. Blashvor believed in arming his trusted men, and Cory was now trusted. He felt a great deal of respect for the pirate chieftain, as well as a deep liking for him. If... when he found Ed, both of them would return to the ship, and life would be a lot different than it had been.
It was six months since he had been found by Blashvor, and once a month the Jilectan had allowed him to go to Corala in search of Edwin. He could see that the Jilectan was beginning to lose hope that Ed would ever show up, but Cory knew he would. Ed would come. They just had to give him time.
Then, for just a moment he thought he had it. He touched a mind--a mind he thought he knew--a psychic mind.
"Ed!"
No, not Ed, but so like Ed's! The feel was uncannily similar! He concentrated. "East a bit."
"You got him, Cor?"
"I've got something. I don't know what it is yet. Straight ahead now."
The mind drew closer. It was a psychic, all right, the emanations powerful, but completely uncontrolled--the mind of someone unaware of his psychic abilities. And the feel was youthful--someone quite young.
They reached a row of apartment buildings in the center of a middle class neighborhood.
Terrans passed below, and he saw few other beings. The mind was straight ahead, and the person, whoever he was, was coming nearer. He concentrated hard, trying to speak to the psychic. *Hello! Hello!*
There was no response, but below his quarry came into view. It was a boy, all right, probably no more than twelve years of age, his figure slight and graceful, short of stature, as most psychics were. Accompanying him were another boy, almost the same size and a girl, much younger than her two companions. The girl was also a psychic.
"Circle," he commanded. The man at the controls obeyed and the car performed a slow circle around their quarry. Cory studied the children below. The girl and the non psychic boy were certainly related--probably sister and brother, for they resembled each other strongly in coloring and feature. But the other boy--the psychic--the one with the mind so similar to Ed's...
He was darker than his two companions, but there was something else. Those mental emanations...
And yet, the other two--he had sensed minds like theirs, too, although they were nothing at all like Ed.
He touched the mind of the darker boy. *Hello! You, hello! Who are you?*
The boy paused, glancing around, face troubled. The little girl also seemed to hear his communication, for she, too, paused, looking upward at the aircar. The non-psychic boy said something to his two companions. A woman came out of the apartment building, and Cory's heart climbed into his throat. Impossible! Utterly impossible! It couldn't be! Loreen Cornwall was dead! She had been dead for sixteen years!
"Down!" he shouted. "Joe, take us down!"
"Why?" demanded Joe.
"That woman--I have to talk to her!"
"Why?"
"Please, it's important! I... oh, it's too much to explain right now! Take us down!"
Joe glanced at his companion. "Whatcha think?"
"I dunno. That sure ain't his partner, and we ain't down here for social calls."
The woman was herding the three children into an aircar. He was going to lose them! Frantic, Cory leaned out the window.
"Lori! Lori Cornwall!"
Her face came up, eyes widening. Her mouth formed his name.
Joe and Don were pulling him back. One of them pinned his arms and the other removed the blaster from his holster. He twisted frantically in their hold. "Please, you don't understand! That's Ed's wife! You've got to listen to me!"
**********
tbc
