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Slave Race 24/?
by Nan Smith and Linda Garrick

Next time. He didn't want there to ever be a next time, but of course, he didn't voice the thought. "Yes sir."

Halthzor indicated the other Jilectan. "This is Lord Stithvor. He is a Terran psychic expert and has made an extensive study of psychic techniques and training. He will now attempt to instruct you in refining your probes. Give him your full attention, Terran."

"Yes sir." Karl turned to the newcomer. Lord Stithvor stepped toward him, expression remote and openly scornful. He was very pale--almost an albino. The nearly colorless eyes surveyed Karl with the disdain one might display for a repulsive insect.

"Terran psychic," he said remotely, "when one probes the mind of a shielded subject, the utmost care is needed. Concentrate your energies into a deft, delicate thrust." He turned fractionally and spoke apparently to the wall.

"Bring in the Arcturian."

The door slid open and two patrolmen entered, leading a bound, blindfolded Arcturian between them.

Karl stared at the Ceregon native in horror. He was tall for an Arcturian, standing nearly two meters in height, but thin to the point of emaciation. His scales, instead of the usual bright green or golden hue, were curiously dulled, as though covered with a thin film of dust. His shoulders sagged and he shuffled as he walked, his head bent. Healing sores were evident in several places on his body. He wore nothing but a filthy loincloth.

Karl swallowed hard. The Arcturian came to a stop in the center of the room, swaying gently between the patrolmen.

"Leave him and go," the Jilectan commanded.

The two patrolmen pushed their captive to its knees, saluted and went out. The door closed.

Lord Stithvor spoke again. "You will probe the subject, Terran. I will monitor you. Ignore my mind, and concentrate on the Arcturian."

"Yes sir." Karl could not take his eyes from the prisoner. "M'lord, what has he done?"

The Jilectan looked irritated. "He has done nothing. He is a practice subject. Do not ask unnecessary questions, you little fool!"

"But why is he a prisoner then, if he..."

The Jilectan moved in a blur of speed, striking Karl across the face with the back of his hand. It was like being struck with a sledgehammer. He spun sideways and landed hard. Stars burst before his eyes and his ears rang.

Dimly, he became aware of other sounds. Halthzor's voice, raised in anger, the sound of another blow, a heavy crash which shook the floor upon which he lay. Slowly, shaking his head, he pushed himself to his elbows. Something warm and wet ran down his chin.

The Jilectan who had struck him was lying prone on the floor, hands braced beneath him, and looking as dazed as Karl felt. Halthzor stood over him, his face a mask of cold fury.

"M'lord Stithvor," he was saying, "if you *ever* lay hands upon this Terran again, I will have you arrested for treason! He is the only one I have discovered since the Westover girl! Do you understand that? The only one in nearly three years of searching! He is irreplaceable. If you have damaged him with your stupid, unbridled temper, I shall personally oversee your execution! Is that perfectly clear?"

Lord Stithvor groaned and pushed himself to hands and knees. Halthzor reached down, caught him by his pigtailed hair, and brought him to his feet as effortlessly as Karl might have lifted a two-year-old child, although Stithvor must easily mass two hundred kilos. "Is that clear?" he inquired, his voice deadly.

"Yes, Your Highness." Stithvor groaned and spit out a glob of blood. "I...I beg your pardon, Your Highness."

Halthzor released him and knelt beside Karl, speaking in Basic. "Are you injured, Terran?"

Blood was dripping off his chin and pooling on the carpet. His teeth felt funny and when he tried to answer he realized that his voice wasn't working properly. Halthzor's hands closed on his shoulders, their grasp surprisingly gentle considering the strength which the ruler had just demonstrated, and Karl was lifted effortlessly upright, swept into powerful arms and deposited on the bunk.

"He is bleeding from the nose and mouth," Halthzor said. "Stithvor, summon a doctor!"

Stithvor vanished from view, and Karl heard his voice, sharp and frightened, commanding for a doctor to be brought at once. Karl blinked and wiped a hand across his mouth. The hand came away red and sticky.

"And a dentist!" Halthzor snapped. "You have knocked out two of his teeth, you hopeless fool!"

Karl tried to investigate, but Halthzor grabbed his hand, forcing it back down.

"Be still, Terran," he ordered.

He obeyed. Halthzor produced an intricately embroidered handkerchief and gently wiped the blood from his lip and chin. Stithvor hovered behind him, his jeweled hands clasped before him. Karl could sense his fright.

Moments later the doctor arrived--a tall, grey-haired Terran, who examined Karl from head to foot and pronounced him bruised and stunned, but otherwise undamaged except for the broken teeth. The dentist arrived a few moments later, repaired the damage swiftly and painlessly, and departed. Karl fingered his reconstructed teeth experimentally as the dentist went out, closing the door behind him.

There was a sudden silence. Halthzor gestured to the two patrolmen who had entered with the doctor and dentist. The men also withdrew.

"Can you stand, Terran?"

Karl sat up. He was still a little dizzy, but felt fairly normal once more. The Arcturian prisoner stood in a corner of the room, where he had apparently been shoved while the drama had ensued. Now Halthzor motioned to Karl to approach. Karl stood up, his knees still a little weak, and obeyed, glancing uncertainly at the two Jilectans.

"In answer to your former question," Halthzor said, "this Arcturian is a felon from a penal colony. His crime is murder. You need have no empathic feelings toward him, psychic."

Karl shuddered. "Who did he murder?"

"I do not know. Come!"

Karl approached, and Stithvor stepped toward him. Karl could sense the hatred and humiliation radiating from the Jilectan, and involuntarily retreated from him.

"Do not fear him, Terran," Halthzor said, emotionlessly. "He will not strike you again."

The feelings of anger and humiliation intensified, but Stithvor's voice was cool and utterly expressionless. "You will follow my instructions, Terran. Enter my mind and see how I form a probe. Imitate me. I will not be able to read the Arcturian, but you should be able to follow my technique."

Karl swallowed hard. "You... you want me to read your mind, sir?"

"That is correct. If you will imitate my technique, it is possible you will be able to read the Arcturian spies without them becoming aware of you."

Karl glanced quickly at Halthzor. "Yes sir."

Very reluctantly he reached for the mind of Lord Stithvor. He touched, and felt the other's instinctive response of revulsion and hatred. He, too, cringed at the touch of the overlord's mind. The sensation was difficult to describe, but very unpleasant. The other's hatred for him was a living thing which stabbed relentlessly at him through the mind contact, blotting out all other emotions and thoughts. He bore it a moment, then found himself shrinking away, trying to bring up the protective shields which the little Jilectan girls had taught him.

"Shielding!" Halthzor's exclamation reached him, pulling his mind back.

Involuntarily, the shields closed, shutting out the mind of the Jilectan. He turned fearfully to face Halthzor, instantly letting the shielding relax. "I'm...I'm sorry, sir! I didn't mean to!"

"Where did you learn that?"

Karl wet his lips. "I won't do it again, sir! The little Jilectan Ladies taught me. They showed me how, and told me to keep my shields up so I couldn't be traced. I'm sorry, sir. I was afraid if I didn't do as they said, they'd be angry."

The ruler's face was like granite. "You have practiced them since?"

"No, sir! I was afraid you'd kill me if you found out. I'm sorry, Your Highness!"

Halthzor's expression relaxed. "You will never raise your shields again while in my presence, Terran."

"I won't, M'lord. I didn't mean to this time."

"I realize that." Halthzor turned to Lord Stithvor. "He is an empath, you fool! Curb your emotions if you want him to learn anything!"

Stithvor's face quivered and he inclined his head. "Yes, Your Highness."

The emanations from his mind ebbed, but Karl knew they had not really lessened. The Jilectan had simply masked them, as Halthzor had commanded.

"Come, Terran," Stithvor said. "Follow my lead. Enter my mind again and imitate my actions."

Again Karl tried to obey. The mind of the Jilectan stirred beneath his touch, and he sensed the probe that the alien was forming. He attempted to imitate the probe precisely, and found it surprisingly easy. The Jilectan reached for the mind of the Arcturian and Karl followed him, matching his mental moves exactly.

Then something went wrong. Karl couldn't say precisely what it was, but it seemed as though he missed the Arcturian's mind completely. His probe slid right past it, never touching it. Stithvor gave a short exclamation of disgust.

"No, no, you idiot! You must enter his mind! Do not..."

"Stithvor!" Halthzor's voice was sharp, and the psychic trainer subsided, his mouth hardening into a grim line. The Viceroy turned to Karl. "Do not fear him, Terran."

It was a difficult order to obey. Stithvor gestured to him. "Enter my mind again, Terran, and this time, remember what I told you earlier. I cannot enter the Arcturian's mind with you. I can only show you the technique. You must read him without my assistance. Do you understand?"

"I think so, sir." Karl swallowed hard.

"Come, let us try again."

Karl braced himself and entered Stithvor's mind a third time. Form the probe, smooth and sharp as a needle. Reach for the Arcturian's mind, enter slowly and evenly.

His mind parted from that of Stithvor as he reached for the thoughts of the Arcturian. Touch...enter...

His control felt suddenly less precise, as though someone had joggled him. He fought to keep it as it had been, knowing that the Jilectans were monitoring his mental maneuvers. The Arcturian's mind resisted him. It was like trying to balance something carefully and at the same time open a stubborn lock.

Fear flowed from the prisoner's mind. What was going to happen to him? From what he had heard, it was clear what the Jilectans were doing, and Zoppor cared not in the slightest about that. It was his own fate that was worrying him.

"Excellent," Stithvor announced. "Withdraw, and enter again."

Karl obeyed, feeling beaten. Twice more at the Jilectan's command, he probed the Arcturian. Then Stithvor spoke to Halthzor. "He needs practice with other subjects. This one was simple, and is now becoming familiar to him. He seems fairly adept at learning, for a Terran."

Halthzor turned toward the wall. "Bring in two more."

The door opened and two patrolmen entered, bringing two more bound and blindfolded convicts. Zoppor was removed.

Karl looked at the newcomers, heart sinking. There was no way to resist and he could do nothing but comply. Stithvor commanded him to begin.

The first one's mind parted easily beneath his newly learned probe, but the second was more difficult. This Arcturian seemed to possess a mind that, for some reason, resisted him. He pushed, and the resistance thickened tangibly.

"Natural resistance," he heard Stithvor say to the Viceroy. "Quite common. I'm sure there is no training involved. There are variations with every species."

Karl concentrated, striving to enter the Arcturian's mind. It was much harder than the other two, and required all his concentration. After a moment of effort, though, he felt the barrier part and the Arcturian's thoughts were disclosed, but Karl was unprepared for what they revealed.

Furious hatred at this invasion. The thoughts licked at him like malignant poison, calling him every conceivable undesirable thing in the creature's language, and promising vengeance if it ever came within Fannir's power. Karl cried out in surprise, and the Arcturian pressed the attack, seeming to sense its minor victory. The emotions hurt, and Karl felt his own instinctive withdrawal.

Halthzor voiced an exclamation of anger. His hand moved, drawing an odd looking device from the holster at his hip. Karl turned with a cry of protest.

Halthzor spoke sharply to him. "Withdraw your probe, Terran."

He obeyed. The weapon in the ruler's hand crackled with static electricity, the beam enveloping the Arcturian. Fannir gave a hissing shriek and writhed, reptile-like, on the floor. The ruler watched him dispassionately for a moment, then pressed the device a second time. There was another crackle and a second shrill hiss from the Arcturian. Karl felt a quiver of pain run along his own limbs at the creature's obvious agony. Halthzor leveled the device a third time.

"No! Oh, please, Your Highness, don't!"

The Viceroy glanced emotionlessly at him, hesitated a moment, then thrust the device back into his belt. "Very well, empath." There was poorly concealed scorn in the words. "Are you finished, Lord Stithvor?"

"I am, Your Highness." The Jilectan, obviously picking up on the Viceroy's scorn, spoke with amusement. "The Terran must practice what he has learned, and I can teach him more later. I believe, however, that this is all I should do for today. Terran mentality is fairly limited, and I do not wish to overload him. This subject, however, would probably be best for his practice. The natural shielding it possesses will strengthen the Terran's ability, in my estimation."

Halthzor inclined his head. "Very well. Let us go. Terran, I leave you this prisoner, whom you are so tender of, here to practice upon."

He turned and strode for the door, followed by Stithvor. A moment later Ruffard entered and removed the first Arcturian, leaving the one whom Halthzor had reprimanded, still lying on the rug. The door closed behind the patrolman and the prisoners were left alone.

All was silent, save for the harsh, whistling breaths of the bound prisoner and the soft purr of the ventilation system. Karl swallowed, drew a deep breath, and went over to the Arcturian.

He knelt beside him, torn between revulsion and pity. He turned the prisoner over and removed the blindfold. The Arcturian blinked up at him, its eyes an odd greenish-gold, large against the thinness of its features. The fanged jaws were clenched together and its breath whistled between them.

"Can you sit up?" Karl slipped a hand behind the creature's shoulders, again surprised as the warmth of the scaled skin. Fannir struggled to a sitting position, Karl helping him. The green-gold, alien eyes looked directly into the psychic's. He could read no expression in them.

"Can you stand? I'll help you to a chair."

Fannir stood, his eyes never leaving Karl. The boy helped him to the recliner and seated him in it. "I'll get you a drink. Hold on."

The Arcturian gulped the water eagerly, then sat back, trying to arrange its tall body comfortably in the chair. The strange eyes regarded Karl expressionlessly.

"I zank you," he said suddenly.

"It's okay." Karl sank onto the bed and regarded his fellow prisoner unhappily. Must he start his practice instantly? Would Halthzor mind if he rested a few minutes? Surely not. Stithvor had said that his limited mind shouldn't be unduly taxed.

The Arcturian moved its shoulders uneasily. Its gaze dropped to the carpet. "I am most sorry, Terran. I was very foolish to attack you wizz my zoughts as I did." He paused, then added slowly and deliberately. "Very foolish."

"Don't worry about it. Are you all right now?"

"Yes. I have experienced a shocker many times. Zey are most unpleasant, but cause no permanent damage, which is why zey are used so freely wizz zee inmates of penal colonies."

"I'm sorry."

A fractional pause. The creature's eyes came up to meet his again. "You are very kind. Somehow I did not expect it from such as you."

"I'm a stupid empath."

"Of zat I am glad." Fannir grinned suddenly, displaying a startling array of needle-like fangs. "May I ask your name?"

"Karl. Karl Warren."

"I am most pleased to meet you, Karl Warren. I am Fannir, but you undoubtedly know zat already."

"Yes. What penal colony are you from, Fannir?"

"Borantium Cinnabar mines. A most unpleasant place. Several Arcturians were taken from zere yesterday. We were brought here."

"You're my practice subjects," Karl told him, bitterly.

"But why are zee Shils doing ziss, Karl?"

Karl hesitated, but Fannir continued unexpectedly. "Are zey hoping zat you will discover Arcturian Underground spies in zeir ranks?"

Karl stared at him. "How did you guess?"

"It is zee only zing zat makes sense." He paused, regarding Karl searchingly.

"And have you found any?"

Karl looked down. "Yes."

"Ahhh!" It was a long, drawn out sigh. "Was he captured?"

"They were killed--a Terran and an Arcturian. They blew themselves up--set their blasters on overload to avoid capture."

"Ahhh!" Again the sigh. "Zat would be most painful for you, an empazz."

Karl covered his face with his hands. "I wish I was dead!"

"Ahh, my friend, do not say zat. I, for one, am most happy zat you are alive." His voice changed. "How did zey catch you?"

"I applied for a job. My... father thought I should start helping to support our family. Father works for the Jilectans... or he did."

"I see. You did not sense danger?"

"No."

"So precognition is not among your talents. Still, you are a powerful psychic. I sense your aura strongly."

"Arcturians really can sense Terran psychics, then?"

"Most certainly."

Karl looked up at his fellow prisoner. "What did you do to end up in a penal colony, Fannir?"

The Arcturians eyes wavered suddenly. "I would prefer not to discuss it."

"How long were you there?"

"Zirteen Borantia years."

"Gosh! Is it very bad?" Karl surveyed the creature's emaciated form unhappily.

"It is. Zee guards are cruel and zee work is endless. We are given little food or rest. Many have died since I have been zere." The Arcturian spoke matter-of-factly. "Deazz is said to be a happy release, and yet..." He grinned horribly, "I do not wish to be released in zat manner."

Karl smiled in return. "I take back what I said earlier. I don't either."

"Zat is good. Do not lose your spirit, Karl. As long as you have zat, zee Shils do not truly own you."

Karl nodded. "I guess that's true. It makes me feel better to think of it that way." He paused. "They don't feed you much in the colony, huh?"

"Brozz mostly, and zose abominable ration cakes."

"Are you hungry now?"

The Arcturian's eyes traveled around the room. "You have food here?"

"No, but I could probably get some. I'm a bit hungry now, too. I didn't eat my dinner."

"Why not?"

Karl looked down. "I was...feeling sick."

"Ah, zee Undergrounders." The Arcturian's voice was gentle. "Perhaps you could get some food, Karl? I am very hungry. My companions and I have not eaten since zey took us from zee colony."

"How long ago was that?"

"Zirty-seven hours and odd minutes. Ten of us were taken. Zey did not tell us why."

Karl sighed. "I'll get you something to eat. Then I have to practice on you. I'm sorry."

"Zere is no need to apologize." Fannir licked his lips.

Karl stood up and faced the videocamera. "Lieutenant Ruffard, can you tell Ch'Grak I'd like something to eat, please? A big, smoked marshhopper sandwich would be nice."

There was a pause. Fannir's muzzle elongated. "Zey will serve you shust for zee asking?"

Karl shrugged and sat down. "They're under orders to keep me happy and in good health. That's why Halthzor punished you when you...uh, did what you did."

"I see. How very convenient."

"He even hit Stithvor when he slapped me."

"Zee Viceroy did?"

"Yes. He was mad." Karl touched his cut lip. "He said if Stithvor touched me again, he'd personally execute him, or something like that."

"Zat is wonderful!"

"I guess it is." Karl turned toward the alien. He needed desperately to talk to someone, but he didn't want to do anything that would endanger Fannir, and every word he said was monitored. Did the 'trols understand Arcturian? Probably not, except maybe the Arcturian 'trols. "Fannir," he said softly, hardly making a sound. "Say something in your own language."

"You speak Arcturian?" The alien's question was also muted.

"If I hear it a few times I will."

Fannir blinked. "What?"

"Please, just do it."

The Arcturian spoke unintelligibly. Karl listened, then whispered, "Now, something else."

Once more Fannir spoke.

"Again."

A third spate of whispered words.

"Keep talking."

Fannir was looking worried. "What is zis about?"

"Again, please."

The Arcturian's crest lifted slightly and Karl realized that he had spoken in the alien's own language. Fannir spoke again. Karl caught words this time.

"If...you...doing this?"

"Again, please." Again Karl spoke in Arcturian, making no effort to keep his voice down. Surprise flickered from the alien's mind.

"You *do* speak my language!"

"Now I do." Karl smiled. "Say something else, please."

"Where did you learn Arcturian?"

"Just now, from you. I learn languages very easily. Halthzor called me a psychic linguist. It's a psychic ability that the Jilectans don't have. He was annoyed--said something about another talent that we Terrans have that Jilectans don't possess."

"You speak like a native! It is incredible!"

"It *is* convenient, isn't it? Now we can talk and not worry about saying the wrong thing. Our guards won't know what we're saying."

"Hah! Your strategy now becomes clear."

Karl lowered his voice. "I don't want to read any more Arcturian spies, Fannir. I don't want to be responsible for any more deaths."

"But what can you do, my friend? You are in their power."

"I know. Can you suggest anything?"

Fannir shifted uneasily in the chair, flexing his shoulders. "The Terran Underground, itself, may try to find you."

"To kill me, maybe. They have no reason to help me now. I blew the whistle on two of their members."

"You did not have a choice."

"Will that matter?"

"It may. Undergrounders are not supermen, Karl, and they understand the Jilectans well--at least, they should."

The door slid open and Ch'Grak entered, a tray held before him. He glared balefully at Karl, strode to the table and placed the tray on it. "Here, Terran psychic, eat. If you do not, then you can shtarve until morning."

Karl smiled mockingly. "Thank you, Grakie old boy. You're a real sweetheart."

The Procyon clucked, spun on its heel and headed for the door. On sudden impulse, Karl formed the illusion of a giant trenchcrawler beside the door. The illusion reared up at Ch'Grak, its webbed paws spread, the wide snout twisting. Ch'Grak stopped short, staring pop-eyed at the creature. Karl made the image scuttle toward him. The Procyon screeched, leaping sideways. Karl turned the image so that it followed him, the long snout lengthening and darting at his legs.

Ch'Grak screeched, squawked, and leaped over the image. The door was before him, and opened obligingly. He went through in a rush. The panel closed.

Fannir was staring fixedly at the door, his leathery crest erect. "What is wrong with him?" he inquired.

"I think he nips the caffeine on the side," Karl told him, sotto voice.

The door opened again and Lieutenant Ruffard entered, glancing around. "Is there a trenchcrawler in here, buddy?" he inquired.

Karl shook his head. "I haven't noticed any."

The man snorted and went out. The door closed.

Fannir looked blankly at Karl. "I once knew a Procyon who was a caffeine addict. He was crazy when he took the stuff. No one could control him."

Karl went to the tray and uncovered it. Ch'Grak had not brought him the requested smoked marshhopper sandwich, but the substitution was equally palatable. A small, roasted fowl of some kind, stuffed with seasoned rice, occupied the platter, accompanied by vegetables and fresh fruit. Fannir's breath hissed eagerly between his teeth. Karl motioned to the Arcturian and Fannir came toward him, trying to look unhurried, but Karl, attuned as he was to the Arcturian emotions, sensed vividly the alien's eager hunger. He detached a leg from the roasted bird and held it out. Fannir took a huge bite, stripping the bone completely of meat, chewed rapturously, and swallowed.

The door swished open and Ch'Grak entered, the head feathers standing out straight around his face.

"Thish ish preposteroush! I prepare your food and you feed it to the shlave! I shall take it away and report thish behavior to..."

Karl stepped before the angry servant. "I do what I like with my food, Grakie. Now get out of here."

"I shall not! You were not hungry! You were mocking me again, degenerate psychic! I shall..."

"You'll get out of here right now!"

Ch'Grak tried to push past him. Karl grabbed him and they grappled. The Procyon was stronger than he, though not by much. However, he must out-mass Karl by twenty kilos.

"No! Get out of here! Lieutenant Ruffard! Get this guy off me!"

The door opened instantly and Ruffard entered, accompanied by another patrolman. The Procyon was seized by the back of its uniform and Ruffard lifted him off Karl with one hand. "Ch'Grak, are you crazy?"

Ch'Grak spoke furiously to the Lieutenant. "He gave the food I brought to..."

"We saw, an' he's right. He can do whatever he wants with his food, an' it ain't none o' your business. You just keep away from him an' do your work, owl. Got me?"

The Procyon paused, plainly thwarted. Karl turned away, winked at Fannir, and pulled the other leg from the fowl, holding it for the Arcturian. With a furious squawk, Ch'Grak went out. The two patrolmen followed him. As they exited, Karl saw them glance at each other and grin.

Fannir was devouring the second leg. "Ah, that is delicious! You are a most considerate Terran, Karl! I thank you a thousand times!"

"Think nothing of it. My pleasure." Karl pulled off a wing. "More?"

The tidbit vanished instantly, and the remainder of the bird and stuffing were gone in record time. Fannir refused his offer of vegetables and fruit, however, and settled back in the chair with a gusty sigh. "Ah, my dear friend, there is nothing I would not do for you now. Such food I have not eaten in years."

Karl picked up a pear from the tray and began, rather languidly, to eat it. He was delaying, of course, and Halthzor wouldn't like it. "Fannir..."

"Yes, my friend?"

"I...I have to practice on you now. I'm awfully sorry."

"That is nothing. Do what you must." Fannir closed his eyes and licked his muzzle with a mobile red tongue. "That meal was worth a hundred... a thousand mind probes!"

"Does it hurt you when I do it?"

"No, my friend, not unless I resist you. I was angry before, and I fought you. I will not fight you now." A languid smile, and the Arcturian shifted his cuffed hands. Karl went over and examined them. Fannir's wrists were secured with Patrol restrainers. No way to remove them, of course. He sighed.

"I wish I could let you go."

"There is no way. Come, my friend, do not delay longer. The Viceroy may become annoyed if you do."

"You're right." Karl seated himself on the bunk again and concentrated. Fannir's mind resisted him, as before, but now he knew that resistance was natural, and that the Arcturian had no control over it. As gently and smoothly as possible, Karl penetrated that resistance. Fannir's thoughts and emotions became clear.

And the Terran knew a moment of embarrassed pleasure. Fannir had been speaking the truth when he had said that there was nothing he would not do for Karl now. The Arcturian actually loved him--not in a Terran fashion, but an Arcturian one. This, thought Karl, was what was meant by the Arcturian concept of friendship. Somehow he had not imagined that such deep, loyal feelings could be concealed beneath the scaled hide of one of the natives of Ceregon. Cecil had been wrong--totally wrong. The Arcturians weren't reptiles. They were people--at least, Fannir was a person, kinder, warmer and more loyal than many Terrans Karl had known. It was a real pleasure to see into his mind now, and Karl's despair and hurt faded as he realized how much he had helped his fellow prisoner, and how much Fannir appreciated it. His self-worth grew and blossomed. The feelings of guilt and self-recrimination faded.

What, he wondered, would Halthzor do with his newfound friend once his usefulness was spent? Transport him back to the penal colony? Maybe, but it seemed far more likely that the ruler would simply have him killed. He knew too much, and besides, it was easier.

Karl felt a sharp pang in his middle. If Fannir had come here only to die...

"What are you thinking of, my friend?"

Karl's eyes focussed on the Arcturian with a jerk. "Me? Nothing. I was reading your mind."

"Your face is quite expressive. I am accustomed to Terran emotions. There are many emotions expressed in a penal colony. You appear distressed, my friend, but there is nothing in my mind at this moment to distress you--at least, I hope there is not."

"It's nothing. I was thinking about my problems.'

"Then why did you try to deceive me? Ah, my friend, you are worrying about me."

Karl nodded. No use trying to hide it from his astute fellow prisoner. Fannir wasn't stupid, and would figure things out for himself in time. "I... well, I was just wondering... did anyone say what was going to be done with the Arcturian prisoners, when...when this was all finished?"

"Nooo..." Fannir's eyes searched his and he moved suddenly and uneasily. "Sssst! That is a most thought-provoking question."

"Yes." Karl stood up and went over to the bureau, examining the things that had been provided for him. He fingered the bottle of shaving cream absently, his thoughts racing. He could ask Ruffard. The Lieutenant might not tell him, but Karl could read his mind and find out...

If Ruffard knew.

He must know! He was in charge here!

Karl was suddenly aware of Fannir standing beside him. "Ah, my friend, do not distress yourself. Life in a penal colony is not something to which I truly wished to return. You have made my last hours most enjoyable."

Karl felt the tears behind his eyes. He shook his head. "Maybe they'll take you back," he said indistinctly.

"Perhaps. In any case, there is nothing you can do." He smiled, displaying again those shocking fangs. "In thee short time I have been with you, you have displayed great kindness to me--kindness that I have not experienced in many years. I have never met a Terran psychic before, although I have, naturally, heard of your criminal tendencies." Another hair-raising smile. "Such tendencies I think the Jils would do well to imitate."

"Oh Fannir!" Again Karl felt the shameful tears threatening. He swallowed, forcing them back. "I've got to do something!"

"You have done more than I ever expected already, my friend. What else..."

"Wait a minute!" Karl said. A sudden wild idea had seized him. It couldn't hurt to try. He turned and grasped Fannir's shoulders. "They're under orders to keep me quiet and happy as possible. If only..." He let Fannir go and glanced at the chronometer on his wrist. 2135. If he waited any longer the Viceroy might go to bed, and he was sure Ruffard would never rouse His Highness from sleep for such a request. He must ask now.

But before he could utter a word the door opened and the Lieutenant entered accompanied by a second patrolman. Ruffard spoke. "C'mon, Fish. Vacation's over."

"Wait, please!" Karl crossed the room to the Lieutenant. "Please, sir, can he stay? Please?"

Ruffard stared at him. "What for?"

"For company. Please? I like him, and it's so lonely in here..." Karl employed every bit of empathic ability he could muster on the man. The Lieutenant's thoughts had become clear as he approached. The Fish was to be taken out, driven to the nearest convenient spot, and executed. Halthzor wanted no witnesses to his new secret weapon. Already the other Arcturians who had been in the room with Karl had been thus disposed of. "Please, sir? Will it hurt to let me have some companionship?"

"He's a criminal, kid."

"So am I. Please, sir?"

Ruffard hesitated, then shook his head. "Sorry. Viceroy's orders."

"Please, sir, won't you ask him for me? I'm going crazy in here, all alone with my thoughts. Please, Lieutenant. Your orders are to make me comfortable, aren't they? Well, I'm not comfortable. Please, sir?"

Ruffard bit his lower lip, then jerked his head at the patrolman. The man shrugged and went to the door, opening it. Ruffard followed him, glancing back at Karl. "I'll be back, kid. Don't get your hopes up."

Then he was gone. The door closed behind him.

"I thank you, my friend," Fannir said quietly. "There is nothing else that I can do, so I thank you."

"It might not work. He'll probably say no."

"That is possible." The Arcturian hesitated. "You were close enough to read the Lieutenant's mind, I assume. What did you see?"

Karl swallowed.

"He has orders to execute me, I would say from your expression."

Karl nodded. Fannir made a soft, hissing sound in his throat. Then, "My companions whom you already utilized..."

"They're already dead." Karl choked on the last word. Fannir hissed softly.

"Ah, my friend, do not suffer so. For Zoppor and Pallar it was over quickly and painlessly. Most likely they never knew what was coming."

"They were scared. I saw that when I read them."

"Ah, sooo. But they did not know what was coming. Karl Warren, my friend, come here and tell me of your family. You have brothers? Sisters?"

"One of each."

"Are they psychics also?"

"Halthzor thinks my sister is. He's looking for her."

"And your parents?"

The Arcturian was trying to distract him, Karl knew. "Mom's a great lady. If it hadn't been for her, I think my father would have killed me."

"Your father? Your father is not kind to you?"

"I don't think he's really my father. When the Jilectan found out I was a psychic, Cecil--that's my father--said Mom had a...lover before him. He said she was kidnapped by...criminals, and one of them is my father. And it looks like it might be true. Neither of my parents--I mean my mom and Cecil, could possibly be psychics. They're both really big people, and psychics are all supposed to be small."

"But this criminal, your true father, must have been a psychic."

"I suppose."

"Zen he must also be your sister's father, is that not so?"

"I don't *know*! Mom just isn't the type to keep a lover on the side."

Golden green eyes surveyed him expressionlessly. "Where is your sister now?"

"I don't know. She vanished, along with my mom and brother. Cecil got clobbered by someone. Halthzor thinks my father came back and took Mom and the kids away."

"That sounds quite logical."

"But it doesn't make any sense!"

"Why not?"

"Because if he knew where she was, why didn't he come get her before? Why did he let Cecil beat up on her and us kids all these years?"

"I do not know."

"And besides, Ellie, my sister, looks just like Cecil! She's got his hair and eyes, and even his blood type! Everything! When she was born, there were problems, and she lost some blood. She had to have a transfusion, and Cecil was typed--his blood I mean, since the kind of blood she has is kind of rare, and they weren't sure they'd have enough if she needed a second transfusion. She has the same type of blood Cecil does--B negative. Only about 3% of our species has that type."

Fannir listened with apparent interest. "This is interesting. She could not, I assume, have taken this blood type from your mother?"

"Mom's O positive, a much more common type. Mine's the same."

The door opened and Ruffard appeared. He was smiling. "Okay, buddy, you win. The Viceroy says okay."

Karl could hardly believe it. "Oh, Sam, thank you!"

Ruffard grinned at him, then turned to the Arcturian and lifted an eyebrow. "You must'a been born under a lucky star, Fish."

Fannir bowed stiffly. "My zanks, Lieutenant."

"Don't thank me." Ruffard sounded completely indifferent. "Thank your empathic little friend, here, an' listen, Fishie, you make one wrong move an' you've had it. Got me? His Highness is keepin' you alive 'cause it makes young Karl here happy. No other reason. You get inconvenient an' you've had it."

"I understand, Lieutenant."

"Good. You'll be watched at all times. No funny moves, an' no trouble."

"Zere will be no trouble, I assure you."

Ruffard started for the door.

"Lieutenant," Karl said.

Ruffard paused. "Yeah, buddy?"

"Could you please let his hands go?"

Ruffard hesitated. "Lord Halthzor didn't say to...ah, what the hell. He don't dare try nothin'." Ruffard went over to the prisoner and removed the restrainers. "There. You happy now, kid?"

Karl smiled at him. "Thanks, Sam."

Ruffard grinned and slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "You charmin' li'l devil! Yell if you need anythin' else." He went out.

**********

Chapter 29

Edwin hefted Ellie to his back and slogged on. The rain fell, icy cold on his neck, and the Jilectan servant's cloak was soggy. Loreen stumbled on beside him, clearly nearing exhaustion. Ed's vision kept blurring with fatigue, his head swam and his breath came short. Only Stephen appeared to be tolerating the long trek well.

Ed stumbled and fell to his knees. Ellie's weight on his back was like a ton of rocks, pressing him down. Stephen bent over him and hefted the little girl.

"I'll carry her, Mr. White. You're shot."

"Thanks." The word was a breathless gasp.

"Can't we rest?" Loreen leaned against a tree trunk, breathing hard. "Aren't we far enough ahead of them?"

Ed concentrated. He was so tired he wasn't sure of his abilities any longer. Far away he thought he detected the flicker of the Jilectan Lady's mind, but he couldn't be sure. "I guess it's all right, but someone has to stay awake and keep watch."

"I will." She took his arm and steered him toward one of the gigantic trees. "You need to rest. You're going to kill yourself if you keep this up."

"I'm okay." He collapsed against the tree and leaned back. The thick branches overhead sheltered them from the storm, and here the wind was almost calm.

"What time is it, anyway?"

Stephen settled beside him, glancing at the luminescent face of his chronometer.

"Almost 0500. It'll be light in another two hours." He lowered Ellie to the ground and let her rest her head in Loreen's lap. "Look, Mr. White, Mom's right. You need to rest. If you give out, we're done for."

Ellie lifted her head, blinking in the dim light of the torch held by her mother. "I hear something," she whispered.

"Lori, put out the light!" Ed whispered. The little girl was right. There were voices somewhere nearby, drawing nearer.

"I don't hear anything," Stephen said. "It's the wind, El. Who would be out here at this time of..."

"Sh!" Edwin clamped a hand on his wrist. "I hear it, too."

The boy shut up. Ed strained his psychic senses and located the men. There were two of them--adult males, their minds radiating fatigue and frustration. The voices became clearer, then the crunch of boots in the pine needles. Light appeared, flickering dimly through the shrubbery.

"Who are they?" Stephen breathed.

"Patrolmen," Ellie whispered.

Ed turned to look at her form, barely discernible in the darkness. "Are you sure, honey?"

"Yes. I've sensed patrolman minds before. They're always like these guys."

Faintly, he caught Stephen's disgusted snort.

"Quiet!" The voices were clearer now, and he made out words.

"I'm sick o' this!"

"Yeah, me too. I want a hot meal an' a warm bed."

"Yeah, with a warm someone in it."

"You said it." The other man laughed. "I ain't been to Lola's in two months."

"It's been three for me." The second man swore unimaginatively. "I'm frozen, an' I could eat a dozen marshhoppers. Let's siddown awhile."

The men settled to the ground not more than four meters from where the fugitives crouched beneath the concealing branches. One of the men drew out a cigarette and a lighter flared. "Want one?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Ed felt Loreen move convulsively and glanced around. Her eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, slightly higher than his own. Her whisper stirred his hair.

"Cigarette smoke makes Ellie sneeze!"

Maybe the men would be too far away for the smoke to affect her. He hoped so, anyway. What were these guys doing here?

He extended a mind probe, surprised that he suddenly felt stronger. The minds of the men were quickly revealed to him, and the reason for their presence here became clear. Lord Linthvar, Jilectan noble and psychic tracer, had been called in to search for the elusive Warren family. A high school sweatshirt belonging to the older boy had been found in the apartment, and Linthvar had sensed sentimental value attached to it. A *sweatshirt* for the love of Pete, Ed thought. Linthvar, using the article, had been drawn to the north, toward the wildlife preserve. The thing didn't have enough sentimental value for more precise tracing, but Linthvar believed the fugitives were in this area. He had dispatched half a hundred pairs over this area to try to discover some trace of them.

Ellie sniffed. Cigarette smoke, borne on the night wind, drifted past.

"What time you got?" one of the men asked.

"0513." The other patrolman took a long drag on his cigarette. "Wonder why His Lordship is so interested in these folks, anyway." He exhaled slowly, the smoke blue in the light of the men's torches. Ellie stirred uneasily and sniffed again.

"Who knows? Who cares?"

"I care, that's who! I'm tired. It's assignments like this that make me wonder why I ever signed up in the first place."

"Yeah, me too. It's cold out here." The second patrolman also drew on his cigarette.

Ellie sneezed.

Both men jerked around, their hands flying to the blasters at their hips. Edwin grabbed for the mind of the nearest one and formed the first illusion he thought of--Lord Halthzor, the Viceroy of the Rovalli sector, splendid in his flowing golden robes.

The man gave a squawk, threw down his cigarette and squashed it out in the soggy pine needles, evidently never considering the unlikeness of the scenario. "M'lord! Oh God, it's His Highness, himself! George, put your cigarette out!"

"What th'blazes? Didn't you hear that? It came from over there! C'mon!"

"Patrolman Everett!" the image of the Viceroy snapped, "Tennyson is a traitor. Stun him at once!"

Everett turned, flicked his weapon to stun, and fired. Tennyson had time for a surprised croak before he sank quietly to the ground.

"Now, confine his hands behind him!"

"Yes Your Highness!" The patrolman obeyed at once. Ed waited until he had finished, then, holding the illusion carefully, stepped from the undergrowth, took careful aim, and stunned Everett. The man sank down to slump limply across the body of his victim.

Loreen was behind him when he turned. "Wow! What did you make him see?"

Stephen and Ellie ducked from beneath the branches. Ellie giggled. "The Viceroy! He made Everett see the Viceroy! I saw it in the guy's mind!"

"That's right. Stephen, cuff Everett and get his helmet."

The boy trotted forward to obey. The helmet rolled across the forest floor to stop at Ed's feet. He picked it up and switched on the mike. "Let's hear what they're saying about us."

Voices emerged from the communicator that was built into the helmet. "...Search team seven, reporting in. No luck."

"This is team eight. No luck."

"Nine here. Nothin', sir."

"Donahue here, search ten. No luck."

"They're reporting in!" Ellie whispered.

"And when these guys don't, they'll know something's wrong." Stephen had come up beside them as the girl spoke. "They'll come looking toward the coordinates the guys called in from last."

Loreen looked at Edwin. "Can you fake a call?"

"Maybe." Ed grimaced. "These guys were search team twenty-one, but I'm pretty sure they're both from Shallock. I don't know if I can fake the accent."

"I can," said Stephen. "The kids in school do it all the time."

"And when they hear your voice, they'll be sure something's wrong!" Ellie said contemptuously. "You're just a little boy, silly!"

"Shut up! I can do it, Mr. White."

Ed glanced at him. "I'm afraid your sister's right, Stephen. You sound too young. Teach me, and I'll do the actual broadcast."

"Hurry!" whispered Loreen. "They're up to number seventeen."

"Search team twenty-one," Stephen said in an amazingly adult voice, thick with the accent of Shallock, "Nothin' yet."

"I think he can do it!" Loreen whispered.

Edwin handed him the helmet. "Go ahead, Steph. You sound better than I ever could."

"Search team nineteen," emerged from the speaker. "Zilch, sir."

"Team twenty. No luck."

Stephen took a deep breath and spoke into the unit. "This is team twenty-one, sir. Nothin' t'report."

"Team twenty-two, no luck."

Stephen switched off the unit and grinned, his teeth gleaming white in the darkness. Edwin sketched him a respectful salute. "Nice work."

"Thanks." The boy's voice held smug satisfaction. "Now what?"

"Did you cuff Everett?"

"Sure did."

"Okay, we've got one helmet. Get the other one and we'll get away from here."

Stephen retrieved the helmet. Ellie went over to the unconscious men, looking down at them. Patrolman Tennyson was beginning to stir and groan. The little girl grimaced. "What are we going to do about these guys, Mr. White? We can't just leave them here."

"Why not?" Stephen demanded.

"If a wild animal finds them, they'll be killed."

Patrolman Everett groaned. Tennyson began to lose his last meal on the damp forest floor.

Edwin had to quell the empathic sympathy that welled up in him. "I'm sorry, Ellie, but we can't take them along, and the sooner they're found, the sooner Linthvar, the Jil tracer, will know our whereabouts. They'll have to fend for themselves. We're giving them a chance, and it's more than they deserve."

"Right on," Stephen said.

Tennyson finished throwing up and lifted sick, miserable eyes to the little girl. Ellie's lower lip began to quiver. "Oh, Mr. White! We just can't!"

"If we don't, our chances of rescuing Karl are a lot less," he informed her, and saw her face change.

Tennyson groaned. "What th' blazes happened?"

Ellie knelt beside him. "Where's Karl? What have you done with him? Is he okay?"

"I ain't got the faintest idea what you're talkin' about, baby." The man groaned and lowered his face to the forest floor again.

"Let's go." Edwin pulled the little girl back with one hand, leveled his blaster again, set his jaw, and stunned the two a second time. They raided the men's packs, taking the energy cells from their blasters, all their food, their medical kits and emergency supplies. Then they set off once more through the pelting rain.

When light began to filter through the wet trees, Edwin called a halt a second time. He was utterly exhausted, Ellie was asleep on Stephen's back, and Loreen was stumbling with fatigue. They rested in the shelter of another evergreen, huddled beneath the emergency blankets taken from the patrolmen. Edwin distributed the food and hot soup from the men's packs. Feeling better, Ed closed his eyes after warning Loreen to wake him if she began to nod off. She promised she would.

He woke to the realization that it was broad daylight. Loreen was asleep, but Stephen was awake, the blaster held at ready in his hands. The rain still fell. Ellie was curled up against her mother, also asleep.

Ed stretched and yawned, glancing at his chronometer. It was 1430. He had slept for over six hours, and Loreen had awakened Stephen to take the watch, so that he, Edwin, might sleep. He felt a wash of shame at his weakness. He was the man here--her husband. He should have taken his turn.

Stephen grinned faintly, glancing sideways at his mother's sleeping form. "She insisted, Mr. White." His voice was low so as not to awaken the sleepers. "You looked like you needed the rest."

"But what about you?"

"I'm okay. I haven't been in a coma for six months or so, remember?"

"How much sleep did you get?"

He shrugged. "Mom woke me up around noon or so. I've had enough."

Edwin grinned to himself. He remembered this age. "What are you, Stephen? About fourteen?"

"Thirteen. I'm big for my age--bigger than Karl..." He stopped suddenly, looking down. "I..." He cleared his throat. "I guess I know why now."

Ed regarded him searchingly. "Don't you and Karl get along?"

"Oh, sure. Karl's great. Everyone likes him. It's just..." he hesitated, then continued in a sudden outburst. "It's just that I always used to tease him about his size. Now I wish I hadn't."

"Did he mind?"

"I don't know. He never seemed to. He'd tease me about my brains--you know, the old business of brains over brawn. Karl's smart. So am I, but not as smart as Karl. And everyone likes Karl, even the girls who are bigger than him." Stephen paused, scowling a little. "I guess I know why about that, now, too."

"We'll get him out," Edwin said with more confidence than he felt.

"But how?" Stephen turned to look at him. "Ellie says he's with the Viceroy, and I'm beginning to think she knows what she's talking about. How are we going to spring him without getting caught ourselves, even with your illusion ability? You can only do that on one person at a time."

Ed nodded. "I've been thinking about it. First, I think I'm going to try to get a uniform of some kind--Halthzor's house if I can. If I can get up close to his estate, I should be able to catch one of his servants alone--maybe a guard or a messenger or something." He paused, letting his shields drop, and concentrated, searching for his pursuers. They were on the hunting preserve, and, as before, there were Jilectan minds in abundance. He couldn't sense Comishvor or the Lady.

"You scanning for Comishvor?" Stephen asked.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I can always tell. Your eyes go kind of funny when you do it, like you're looking at something far away that you're straining to see. Any sign of him?"

"There's lots of Jils around," Edwin told him. "But I don't sense Comishvor or his psychic."

"If I ever get my hands on that kid that's helping him," Stephen remarked, "I'm going to kill him."

"I'm sure Comishvor's forcing him to do it," Edwin told him.

"I don't care. It's not like you with Miriam and her kid to hold hostage. That wouldn't work on a kid."

"Why not?"

"Aw, don't give me that, Mr. White. This kid's doing it because Comishvor's making it hot for him, not for anyone else."

"You might be right," Ed admitted, reluctantly. "But Jils can be awfully persuasive. I pretty much did what Comishvor told me to do."

Stephen shrugged. "Go on. What are your ideas for freeing Karl after you steal a uniform?"

"Well, if I can get hold of a car, I could make the guy at the gate see whatever I want him to see. Of course, if there's more than one I could run into trouble. Still, I could probably handle it like I did those 'trols we ran into--tell the one I'm giving the illusion to that the other one's a traitor and have him stun the guy."

"But how are you going to get into the mansion?"

"Well, I'm a telekinetic. I can unlock locks."

Stephen looked dubious. "Somehow I can't see Lord Halthzor having conventional locks on his mansion. There's too many psychics who are telekinetics. I'm pretty sure his little hovel is equipped with psychic proof locks."

The kid was probably right, thought Edwin unhappily. "Well, maybe I can figure out something else. A lot of this is going to depend on the circumstances."

"I sure hope so." Stephen stood up, then ducked back. "Mr. White! There's something moving over there!"

"It's a harkat."

Stephen peered out from behind the concealing branches. "Hey, it sure is!" The boy's eyes, so like those of his mother, flicked toward Edwin again. "It must be convenient to be a psychic," he remarked. "You knew that thing was over there all the time."

"I didn't think it was worth mentioning." Edwin grinned at him. "We aren't a hunting expedition, and thank God the rain's keeping the Jil hunters at a minimum." He stretched and glanced at his chronometer again. "1500. We ought to move on. I hate to wake up your mother, but we don't want to give Comishvor any chance to catch up."

"We joggled his brains pretty good, Mr. White."

"I don't think it'll slow him down for very long, though. He's a pirate. Jil pirates have to be tough--even tougher than the law-abiding Jils--or they don't survive."

Stephen shrugged. "I guess you ought to know. Okay, Mom." He shook her gently. "Wake up. El, you too."

They ate, then slogged on again. The rain continued without pause, drenching them and caking their boots with mud. They had passed beyond the pine forest now and were surrounded with deciduous trees and scrubby growth. It looked completely unfamiliar to Ed, and he knew they must have a long way to go.

Loreen walked beside him, holding Ellie by the hand. Edwin glanced covertly at his wife. She was as lovely as ever, in spite of the mud streaking her face and her soaked hair. She met his glance and smiled. It sent a pain through him. Somehow he must get her to safety!

"Nothing from Cory yet?" she asked, in a low voice.

"No."

"What do you suppose happened to him?"

Ed swallowed. "I wish I knew. There's been nothing but dead silence since I landed. But Comishvor hinted--in fact, he said he had him."

"Do you think he was telling the truth?"

"I don't know! I don't think so. If he'd had Cory, he'd have brought him along. It would have been a sure way to make me cooperate."

"I don't think he's got him," Loreen said. "I think Cory got away."

"But if he did, why didn't he contact me?"

"Would you know it if he was... dead?"

"It seems like I would, but who can say for sure?" He stopped suddenly, gripping his wife's wrist. "Sh!"

"What is it?" Her voice was a bare whisper.

"Hunters. Get down!"

They hid in the shrubbery as the hunting party passed. Die-hards, Edwin thought. The Jilectans were swathed in long, waterproof cloaks, and their servants tagged along behind them, looking wet and miserable. One of them carried the carcass of a harkat slung over one shoulder. He glanced at his chronometer. 1640. It would be dark in two hours. Probably it would be safer to travel by night. On the other hand, traveling by day gave them another sort of cover. He had heard the betraying hum of aircars overhead, several times, but with all the Jilectan hunters and their servants in the area, the infrared sensors of the Patrol would be almost useless in the search.

The Jilectans passed beyond earshot and he turned to Ellie. "How's Karl holding out?"

"He's still looking for Arcturian spies," she told him. "He's beginning to think maybe Halthzor's wrong and that the Underground isn't putting spies in the Patrol anymore."

"Let's hope he isn't. It's the only hope Karl has."

"He knows that." The little girl's reply was sober. "The Jil with him says there are, though. He seems real sure of it."

Ed nodded. "Then, it's probably true. Look, I don't think we should go on any further until I teach Stephen and Loreen to shield."

"Why do we need to learn?" asked Stephen. "Comishvor isn't tracing us, is he?"

"No, but Linthvar is. He has your school sweatshirt and is trying to use that."

"My sweatshirt?" Stephen sounded puzzled. "I don't care about that old thing. How could he trace me with it?"

"Well, he's picked up your direction from it, anyway. He must be a really good tracer. Most Jils aren't very good at tracing Terrans. And besides, there are all these Jil hunters around. One of them might sense you. Shielding's a good thing to know, anyway, and it doesn't take long. Ellie learned in just a few minutes."

But his optimistic prediction proved incorrect. Loreen was not a good shielder, nor did she learn the art quickly. After twenty frustrating minutes, he turned to Stephen and tried again, only to meet with failure. Stephen, bright boy that he appeared to be, was hopelessly dense when it came to mind-shielding. Edwin tried every method he had learned during his years with Comishvor. He tried a couple of his own invention, and every one met with miserable failure. Loreen watched his frustrated efforts with grave eyes, then spoke slowly.

"Maybe non-psychics can't learn, Ed."

"They can! I know they can! Comishvor taught all of his men to shield. He had to, and it was usually pretty simple. I'm doing something wrong, and I don't know what."

Ellie screamed.

The action was so sudden and unexpected that they all spun toward her. The little girl was staring straight ahead, eyes dilated. She screamed a second time, the sound lifting the short hairs on Edwin's neck. He grabbed her. "Sh! Ellie, what is it? What's happening to Karl?"

"He's found one!" She started to scream again and he muffled the sound with his hand. Stephen swore under his breath.

"Someone's coming, Mr. White!"

Ellie had been heard. Ed grabbed her, clutching her close, muffling a fourth scream. Stephen was quite right. Somewhere near at hand were voices and the sound of feet crunching in the leaves.

"Come on!" Holding the child tightly against him, hand clamped over her mouth, he began to run. Ellie writhed against him, trying to scream. Loreen ran behind him, Stephen taking up the rear and glancing back at intervals. Ed jumped over a fallen log and heard the sound of water ahead. A river, he realized. Great. Just great.

"Over here!" Loreen pulled him sideways under a clump of dense shrubbery. A thorn raked him beneath the right eye. He hardly felt it. Loreen and Stephen landed beside him. He held Ellie tightly. "Quiet, baby!" he whispered.

Silence, except for the falling rain and the murmur of the river somewhere ahead. At last he relaxed.

"I think we shook 'em." Carefully he released Ellie, ready to grab her if she should show inclination to scream again.

But she didn't. She was crying, he saw, great tears running down her face, her nose running. He fished in his pocket and drew out a tissue. She took it, dabbing at her eyes. "What happened, El?" he asked gently.

"He...he..." She began to cry again. "He found an Arcturian who was a spy!"

"And what happened?" Stephen caught her arm, shaking her a little. "Did they catch the spy?"

"The spy and his...friend, they blew themselves up to keep from being caught. Some of the patrolmen got killed, too." Ellie gulped and caught her breath on a sob. "He... he feels so awful! He feels like it's his fault!"

"Yeah, he would," Stephen said.

Loreen sighed. "Where is he now, Ellie?"

"Still in the aircar. They're going back to Halthzor's mansion." Ellie sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of one grimy hand. "We've got to get him loose! Mr. White, we've got to hurry! Please!"

"We will, honey." He opened his shields and did a quick scan. The party that had almost discovered them was now moving away at an angle. "Let's get moving."

Ellie stumbled along beside him as they approached the river. The sound was loud in their ears, and they found that the river was swollen by the rain and totally impassable. They must find a way to cross.

Loreen brushed drops from her eyes. "Which way do we go?"

"Upstream, I guess. Maybe we'll find a narrower place where we can cross. Come on and we'll see."

Ellie fell silent as they went on. Glancing at her, Ed saw that she was still weeping quietly. Karl must be pretty upset, he thought. It figured. The boy was undoubtedly an empath. What had happened would effect him deeply. Edwin recalled several of the raids that he had assisted with, and his own reaction when one of their victims had died. He had eventually learned to keep his shields up to protect himself at least partially. It had helped some.

The light was beginning to fade when they found a place to cross--a bridge, constructed of stone and timber, undoubtedly erected for the convenience of the hunters. He scanned carefully, detected no one, and led his companions across. The water roared beneath them.

Half an hour passed. He kept them going with all the speed he could, stopping for nothing except the occasional hunting parties that passed. He detected another Patrol scouting party, but they avoided it easily.

Ellie muttered to herself and he turned to look at her. Her eyes had become haunted again and she stumbled, falling, and hardly seeming to notice. Stephen lifted her to her feet again.

"You okay, El?" His voice was thick with fatigue and what Edwin now recognized as strain.

"It's Karl. There's another Jil with him, and Halthzor. They're making him practice on another Arcturian..." Her voice trailed off, and she gave a soft cry.

They all stopped, watching her. Stephen shook her. "What is it?"

"The Jil hit him!" she whispered. Her white face flushed suddenly red. "That big bully!"

"Is he okay?" Loreen asked.

Ellie nodded, the flush ebbing slightly. She giggled. "Halthzor hit the Jil who hit Karl!" She giggled again. "He's real mad! He's telling the Jil that if he ever touches Karl again, he'll be in real trouble! Now he's talking to Karl, asking him if he's okay. He's picking him up and putting him on the bed. They're calling for a doctor... and a dentist."

"You're sure he's all right?" It was Loreen again.

Another nod. The girl fell silent. Edwin nodded toward a fallen tree. "Let's stop and have something to eat. Ellie, you keep us informed."

"Okay, Mr. White."

"Why did the Jil hit Karl?" Stephen asked. "Did he sass him or something?"

"No. He's just a mean Jil. Karl asked a question he didn't like." She smiled maliciously. "I'll bet the next time that stupid Jil'll think twice. Now the doctor's there. He's checking Karl. Karl's feeling better now, except for his teeth."

"What's wrong with his teeth?" Edwin settled under the roots of the fallen tree.

"The Jil who hit him--Stithvor's his name--knocked a couple of 'em out. It's okay, though. There's a dentist coming."

Edwin hunted around in the pack and extracted the food he had taken from the Jil servants two days before. It was still fresh, wrapped in its sealed packages, and there was plenty of it. The Jilectans evidently believed in bringing along ample supplies on their hunting expeditions.

They ate in silence, watching the little girl. Ellie accepted the food he offered her absently, her eyes still unfocussed as she watched the events occurring around her brother, kilometers away. "The dentist's fixing his teeth," she told them. "He's all right." A pause, while she chewed thoughtfully on the marshhopper sandwich he had supplied her with. "Now the dentist's leaving. Karl's getting up. He's okay."

"Now what?" Loreen murmured.

"Halthzor's telling him to listen to Stithvor. The guy's a psychic trainer. They want Karl to be really good at his mind reading stuff. I guess the Undergrounder wasn't supposed to know when Karl read him, but he did. They think the Underground taught the Arcturian to know when he was being read. They want Karl to be able to read the guys without them knowing."

"Sensible," Stephen said. "No use in getting a dozen of your guys killed every time you find a spy."

"Yeah, and then the spy doesn't do you any good, anyway," Loreen said. "He just catches on and blows himself up."

Ellie grimaced. "Stupid Jil!" she muttered.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. Karl's trying to do what he says. Stithvor's not very nice. He doesn't like Karl much, but he's trying not to scare him 'cause Halthzor's watching. What a bastard!"

"Ellie!" Loreen exclaimed, shocked.

The little girl looked surprised. "Sorry, mommy. I just said what Karl's thinking."

Stephen grinned. "See, mom, he thinks those things, too. He just doesn't say 'em."

"He did it," Ellie said. "He read the Arcturian, I mean." She finished her sandwich and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "I'm thirsty."

Edwin poured her some juice from the canteen. She drank it, her expression still distant. Edwin pulled the cape around himself more tightly. The rain, at last, seemed to be letting up.

Ellie jumped suddenly. "Ick!" she muttered.

"What?"

"One of the Arcturians he read is mad at him! Oooh! He's yelling at Karl while Karl's trying to read him!" She yipped suddenly. "Oh! Oh no!"

"What!?"

"The Viceroy's hurting the Arcturian bad! Oooh! He's doing it again!"

"Sounds like he deserved it," Stephen observed, heartlessly.

"Oh, no!" Ellie's voice was distressed. "He didn't deserve this. Oh, no, not again

, undoubtedly erected for the convenience of the hunters. He scanned carefully, detected no one, and led his companions across. The water roared beneath them.

Half an hour passed. He kept them going with all the speed he could, stopping for nothing except the occasional hunting parties that passed. He detected another Patrol scouting party, but they avoided it easily.

Ellie muttered to herself and he turned to look at her. Her eyes had become haunted again and she stumbled, falling, and hardly seeming to notice. Stephen lifted her to her feet again.

"You okay, El?" His voice was thick with fatigue and what Edwin now recognized as strain.

"It's Karl. There's another Jil with him, and Halthzor. They're making him practice on another Arcturian..." Her voice trailed off, and she gave a soft cry.

They all stopped, watching her. Stephen shook her. "What is it?"

"The Jil hit him!" she whispered. Her white face flushed suddenly red. "That big bully!"

"Is he okay?" Loreen asked.

Ellie nodded, the flush ebbing slightly. She giggled. "Halthzor hit the Jil who hit Karl!" She giggled again. "He's real mad! He's telling the Jil that if he ever touches Karl again, he'll be in real trouble! Now he's talking to Karl, asking him if he's okay. He's picking him up and putting him on the bed. They're calling for a doctor... and a dentist."

"You're sure he's all right?" It was Loreen again.

Another nod. The girl fell silent. Edwin nodded toward a fallen tree. "Let's stop and have something to eat. Ellie, you keep us informed."

"Okay, Mr. White."

"Why did the Jil hit Karl?" Stephen asked. "Did he sass him or something?"

"No. He's just a mean Jil. Karl asked a question he didn't like." She smiled maliciously. "I'll bet the next time that stupid Jil'll think twice. Now the doctor's there. He's checking Karl. Karl's feeling better now, except for his teeth."

"What's wrong with his teeth?" Edwin settled under the roots of the fallen tree.

"The Jil who hit him--Stithvor's his name--knocked a couple of 'em out. It's okay, though. There's a dentist coming."

Edwin hunted around in the pack and extracted the food he had taken from the Jil servants two days before. It was still fresh, wrapped in its sealed packages, and there was plenty of it. The Jilectans evidently believed in bringing along ample supplies on their hunting expeditions.

They ate in silence, watching the little girl. Ellie accepted the food he offered her absently, her eyes still unfocused as she watched the events occurring around her brother, kilometers away. "The dentist's fixing his teeth," she told them. "He's all right." A pause, while she chewed thoughtfully on the marshhopper sandwich he had supplied her with. "Now the dentist's leaving. Karl's getting up. He's okay."

"Now what?" Loreen murmured.

"Halthzor's telling him to listen to Stithvor. The guy's a psychic trainer. They want Karl to be really good at his mind reading stuff. I guess the Undergrounder wasn't supposed to know when Karl read him, but he did. They think the Underground taught the Arcturian to know when he was being read. They want Karl to be able to read the guys without them knowing."

"Sensible," Stephen said. "No use in getting a dozen of your guys killed every time you find a spy."

"Yeah, and then the spy doesn't do you any good, anyway," Loreen said. "He just catches on and blows himself up."

Ellie grimaced. "Stupid Jil!" she muttered.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. Karl's trying to do what he says. Stithvor's not very nice. He doesn't like Karl much, but he's trying not to scare him 'cause Halthzor's watching. What a bastard!"

"Ellie!" Loreen exclaimed, shocked.

The little girl looked surprised. "Sorry, mommy. I just said what Karl's thinking."

Stephen grinned. "See, mom, he thinks those things, too. He just doesn't say 'em."

"He did it," Ellie said. "He read the Arcturian, I mean." She finished her sandwich and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "I'm thirsty."

Edwin poured her some juice from the canteen. She drank it, her expression still distant. Edwin pulled the cape around himself more tightly. The rain, at last, seemed to be letting up.

Ellie jumped suddenly. "Ick!" she muttered.

"What?"

"One of the Arcturians he read is mad at him! Oooh! He's yelling at Karl while Karl's trying to read him!" She yipped suddenly. "Oh! Oh no!"

"What!?"

"The Viceroy's hurting the Arcturian bad! Oooh! He's doing it again!"

"Sounds like he deserved it," Stephen observed, heartlessly.

"Oh, no!" Ellie's voice was distressed. "He didn't deserve this. Oh, no, not again!" She covered her face with her hands for a moment, then slowly relaxed.

"It's okay. It's okay. Karl stopped him."

"Halthzor stopped 'cause Karl asked him to?" Stephen's tone sounded incredulous. Ellie nodded.

"Yeah. I guess he didn't want to upset him any more. The Jils are leaving." She settled back. "I'm tired, Mommy."

Loreen glanced at Edwin. He shrugged. "Sure, we can rest. Looks like Karl's managing pretty well for now."

"We've got to get him out!" Loreen's voice was savage. "He isn't very big. If too many Jils hit him, it'll kill him."

Ellie smiled faintly, her eyelids drooping. "He's being nice to the Arcturian, and the guy likes him, he thinks. Karl's feeling better..." Her eyes closed.

Stephen covered her with a blanket. "I wish I was her age again," he remarked.

"Me, too," Edwin said. "No, I don't. I wouldn't go through these last sixteen years again for anything."

"Me either," Loreen said.

**********