Okay, this is for tomorrow, since I'll probably be in a jury pool all day.
Slave Race: 29/?
by Nan Smith and Linda Garrick
Chapter 40
Cory was struggling upward through thick, black water. Things caught at him and tugged, trying to pull him back down. He fought them frantically, calling ineffectually for aid. Had Comishvor caught him? Comishvor had been after him. What had happened? The aircar... Slowly memory was returning. His mad flight across the abandoned, condemned buildings...
"He's coming around." It was a woman's voice. "Take it slow, Cory."
So they knew his name. That could mean only one thing--that he was back at Comishvor's base. The base was the only place where Comishvor kept females, except for Miriam, of course, and this voice didn't belong to Miriam...
He turned his face sideways, trying to sink back into unconsciousness. A hand touched his forehead. "Cory?"
Well, he couldn't hide forever. Better to face it. He opened his eyes and looked up into a small, girlish face. Behind the girl stood a Terran female. Cory frowned up at them, wondering if he was dreaming again. These two were certainly not any of the women he remembered from Comishvor's base. The girl looked about thirteen, with dark, unruly hair, pale skin and a wide, curved mouth. Her eyes were brilliantly green, her features strangely familiar. The woman was probably about thirty or so, he thought, with brown, straight hair pulled back into an unpretentious ponytail. Large blue eyes surveyed him anxiously.
"How do you feel?" the girl asked.
He blinked. "Who are you?"
"Janice Westover, and she's Dr. Mackey. We're members of the Terran Underground."
"The Under... ground?" His voice didn't want to work right. He felt strange, as though his head was floating up off the bed.
"Take it easy." The woman identified as Dr. Mackey stepped up beside him. "You've been out of it for awhile. Go back to sleep now. We can talk later."
"But... what happened?"
"You're with the Terran Underground." Her voice was firm and reassuring. "One of our people heard you calling for help, and she saw that Jil after you, so she went to help out. She and her partner, that is." She smiled. "You're among friends. Close your eyes, Cory."
Half hypnotized, he obeyed. "How...how d'you know my name?" he mumbled.
"You told us. We can talk later." He felt her small hand touch his forehead. "You're safe. Sleep now. Next time you wake up you can find out everything. There's plenty of time."
But there was something else... something he needed to do. If he could just remember what it was. Ed! He must contact Ed!
Cory opened his shields, groping for the mind of his friend, and met only emptiness. Edwin must have his shields up, he told himself. He was okay. He had to be! *Ed! Please answer me...*
"Sleep," the girl said. "You must sleep, Cory."
He'd try later. The girl was right. He was tired.
Cory opened his eyes a second time, much more clear-headed, but with the shock of alarm one feels when one realizes he has probably overslept and has an important commitment to keep. He tried to sit up, and felt small hands on his shoulders, forcing him easily back. The tiny, dark-haired girl was still beside him, but the doctor was nowhere to be seen.
He looked around, for the first time taking in his surroundings. He lay in a small, pleasantly furnished room. Lacy curtains were drawn over the windows and a picture on the wall beside him depicted a scenic waterfall dashing over rocks to fall into a cloud of mist below. The bed upon which he lay was soft, and he was covered with a red checked blanket. Well, he wasn't with Comishvor, anyway, he decided. None of the cabins aboard the Lady Frishville or at the base even vaguely resembled this.
"Hi," the girl said.
His eyes focussed on her face. "Hi." He couldn't recall her name.
"Janice," she said. "Janice Westover."
"That's right. Terran Underground, you said?"
"Yes. My goodness, you remember a lot. Dr. Mackey didn't think there'd be any recall."
"What?"
"She gave you something to break the coma. She said there's usually no memory of the first awakening."
"Oh." He frowned. "How long have I..."
"Take it easy. Five days."
"Five days!"
"Please, Cory, lie down, or I'll have to call the doctor."
He obeyed. "I told you my name? I thought you said I was in a coma."
She looked uneasy. "You didn't exactly tell us."
"How, then?"
"My brother read your mind."
"Through my *shielding*?"
Her eyes wavered. "I'm sorry, Cory. We had to know if you were a Jil plant or something. We can't take any chances in this business, and besides, when you were picked up you were heard calling for someone named Ed. We figured he must be your partner and might need help, too, so we tried to find out where he was from you. It didn't work, though." She looked hopeful. "Can you call him for us now, Cory? He'll tell you where he is and we can go get him."
"Wait a minute." Things were happening too fast for him to sort out. "You say your brother read my mind? No one can read my mind through my shielding."
"My brother's Alan Westover," the girl said, as though that explained everything. "Listen, Cory, we need you to call Edwin so we can locate him. He's probably got Comishvor after him, and we know the Patrol's looking for him, too. We need your help to find him before they do."
"You're brother's Alan Westover--the Alan Westover the Jils are after?"
"Yes, of course. You're not the first he's read through shielding. We know pretty much your whole history from what he learned. We know about Ed, and Comishvor and Loreen, and Blashvor. So please, trust us. We've got to find Ed. Time's running out."
Could it possibly be a trick? Cory wondered. Comishvor was clever. He knew Cory would never willingly betray his friend.
She was watching him, her clear green eyes seeming to see everything. "You don't trust me. No reason you should, I suppose. Now, what can I do to convince you?" She frowned at the wall. "I look a lot like my brother, you know. Can't you see the resemblance?"
Cory had, during his life, seen perhaps a dozen pictures of Alan Westover, and had only a sketchy idea of how he looked. "Uh, I suppose so. I guess his eyes are green, too, huh?"
Surprise flickered over her face. "You don't know what Alan looks like? I thought everyone in the sector knew that. Well, I guess you miss a lot if you're stuck on a pirate ship for sixteen years, huh?" She bent, dug in her handbag and drew out a photo. "That's my brother, Alan--best psychic the Underground's ever found." There was pride in her voice.
Cory looked at the photo. Yes, that certainly looked like the Alan Westover he had seen on the reward poster brought back to base by one of the younger pirates. Well, she sure looked like him. She was probably telling the truth, and every second he delayed could be fatal for Ed. On the other hand...
"Is your brother here?" he asked suddenly. "Can I see him?
"He isn't here," she said, soberly. "Him and Mark--Mark Linley, you know, the Strike Commander--are out on a important mission. They..." For an instant she regarded him, thoughtfully, and then shrugged. "Oh well, it won't matter if I tell you, I guess. The Jils have a Terran psychic captive and are using him to read Arcturians. The Jils can't, you know, and only the best Terran psychics can. This guy can and they're using him to locate our Arcturians spies... We have to stop them from doing that. That's where my brother and Mark are now. They were looking for your partner, Ed, and Loreen, but they had to stop for this other thing..."
Things were moving too fast again. "I thought all Terran psychics could read Arcturians."
"You can do it?"
"Sure, and so can Ed."
"That's great! You both must be really powerful psychics. Well, we already knew that about you. Now look, Cory, you've got to help us find your friend. Please? I promise I'm telling the truth." Then seeing him still hesitate, "I'll lower my shields some--just enough so you can see I'm not lying. Okay? I'll only hide things like--oh, our big secrets. How about that?"
He felt suddenly ashamed. They had saved him from Comishvor, and he didn't trust them. But what if she was deceiving him? There was so much at stake.
"I'm sorry. It's just that..."
"You have to protect your partner." Her voice was matter-of-fact. "I know. My shields are down now, Cory. If you want to read my mind, go ahead."
Cautiously, Cory lowered his own shielding and reached for the girl's thoughts.
A powerful psychic mind met his probe. If she was under Comishvor's thumb, then he must have acquired her within the time Cory had been away. Surely, he would have known about such a powerful psychic as this, if she had been there before. Her youth and gender would hardly have kept Comishvor from using her on his raids.
He reached into her mind. Her thoughts were gentle, and highly intelligent. Her name was Janice Westover, all right, and she was fifteen years old. Up until three years ago, she, too, had been a prisoner of the Jilectans. They had experimented on her, and toward the end of her captivity had forced her to read Arcturian spies.
Her shields went up, and she waited, watching him.
"I believe you," he said. "I'll try to contact Ed, now." He closed his eyes and concentrated, reaching for Edwin's mind.
**********
Chapter 41
Karl tensed. Here came the servant, guiding the cart along. This was it, then. He mustn't waver. Fannir needed his help.
But wait. Something had changed. The approaching waiter was not Ch'Grak. It was a Terran.
Well, so much the better. A new servant wouldn't be expecting any resistance. Karl braced himself and concentrated on the videoscreen. He must knock the thing out just as the servant was about to enter the room. He needed plenty of time to subdue the guy, and knew the 'trols would have that maintenance fellow up here fast to fix the screen
The waiter was speaking to the guards. Karl could see him with clairvoyance. Good, he was a little guy--not much larger than Karl himself. There was something odd about him, though--his mind. It was almost as though Karl was only sensing part of it. No, he was imagining things. The guy was just a servant. Now that he concentrated, he could feel the simple thoughts of the Jil toady. The men stopped speaking and the servant approached the door. Karl reached for the videoscreen with his mind.
But what was this? The screen flickered out before he had expended hardly any effort at all. Was he getting so good with his talent that it actually functioned without his being aware of it? Why, he had felt nothing! No, something else must have gone wrong with the machine. What luck!
Still, he'd better make sure the darn thing stayed off. Karl concentrated, located the part he sought, and applied the necessary stimulus. Sure enough, the flash of blue in his mind almost blinded him, and the shock numbed him. The effects lasted a few seconds, then began to subside. He shook it off as quickly as he could. Here came the servant, the cart propelled before him. The door opened and the cart appeared, dwarfing the man behind it. The man passed in, the panel clicking shut behind him. As it did so, Karl formed the image he had prepared for Ch'Grak. It should work equally as well on this little Jil flunky. A charging Loc Tar, its mouth open, teeth gleaming in the room's reddish lighting.
As he touched the fellow's mind, flinging the image at it, for an instant he again had the impression that he was missing something--that a part of the Terran's mind was simply not there. But apparently it made no difference to the effect of the illusion. The little man's head snapped up, his eyes and mouth opening in surprise. Incredibly he made no sound, but Karl saw him duck, bringing up his arms as though to ward off the thing he thought he saw.
The lamp from the bedside table was already in Karl's hand. He swung it with all his strength. Again the little man tried to duck, one arm swinging around to deflect the blow. It was partially effective, but the weapon caught him a glancing blow on the temple. His legs buckled and he fell, blood streaming down his face. Karl leaped forward, shoved him down hard on his face and hit him again. The servant subsided with a low moan. There was a sound behind him and Karl straightened up, turning, ready to renew the attack if the guards had heard the noise and come to investigate, another illusion already forming in his mind. The door to his cell was still closed, however, but the door to the food cart was sliding open. A face peered out. Karl stared in disbelief.
A Terran scrambled quickly out of the opening. The cart, Karl saw, had been emptied of its usual contents to make room for its passenger. The young man wore the scarlet and gold of Halthzor's house. Karl backed away, lifting the lamp defensively, seeking the other's mind, the illusion of the Loc Tar ready to hurl.
But he could not seem to locate the fellow's mind. The Terran knelt quickly beside the downed man, feeling for a pulse. He straightened up.
"Dammit! What did you hit him with? A sledgehammer?"
"Just the lamp," Karl said, weakly. "Is he dead?
"No, thank God, but he's out like a light." The newcomer glared at Karl. "Great! Just great! Well, we can't waste time. They'll have that blasted video fixed soon. We'll just have to act cool and hope they fall for it. We're with the Terran Underground, and we're here to get you out." He stood up and strode over to the bunk. Moving purposefully, he picked up a pillow and buried it in a lifelike lump beneath the covers. "Uh..." He glanced around, then reached up to pull a wig from his head, revealing locks of a lighter brown shade beneath. He glanced at the wig, then at Karl's own disordered mop as though comparing the two. "Close enough." He placed the wig on the pillow just above the bedcovers and arranged a sheet strategically. "How's that look?"
"Like I'm in the bed." Karl gulped. "Are you the Terran Underground?"
"Part of it. Look, we can't waste time talking. Your friend Fannir told us where to find you. Get in the cart, quick. And for God's sake, keep quiet!" The man glanced around again, then went back to the unconscious man and pulled gently at his red hair. The hair came away, and Karl realized it had simply been another wig. Beneath it were dark, unruly curls, framing a face that, even unconscious, struck Karl as vaguely familiar. But he had no time to consider it. The first Terran was pulling the red wig over his own hair, tucking dark strands beneath. "Do I look okay?"
"You're going to take his place? They might notice. You're taller than he is."
"I know, but there's no choice. I'll keep my face down." He paused, glancing around. "Wait a second. Alan said you'd thrown food on that Procyon guy. Did you?"
Karl nodded weakly, his head in a whirl. The other Terran seemed to consider for a second, then deliberately picked up a dish from the top of the cart and poured the contents across one shoulder and down his chest. Another pause, and he shoved the remainder of the tray onto the floor. "There. That should look good if they get the video on too soon." He turned impatiently back to Karl. "Come on, get in. There's no time to lose."
Karl gaped at the young man motioning him inside. It was unbelievable! The Underground had done what he had thought impossible. They had come to rescue him, and, unknowing, he had attacked one of its members, wounding him, perhaps mortally. He swallowed hard. "Oh my gosh, I'm really sorry! I didn't realize..."
"In! Move it or we're all dead!"
Karl scrambled inside the cart, curling up to make himself fit. It was crowded in there with two bodies crammed together. The unconscious Terran lay next to Karl, his head in Karl's lap, and, to Karl's vast relief, he heard the little man groan softly. The door of the cart closed, encasing them in warm darkness.
Faintly through the walls of the food cart came the soft swish of the prison door opening. Karl fell silent, feeling sweat break out on his forehead.
**********
Chapter 42
Trying to look disgruntled and annoyed, Kurt guided the cart forward, keeping his face down. The door closed behind him.
The guards glanced at him. One of them snickered. Keeping his gaze on the carpet, Kurt strode rapidly past them, his spine prickling, the sleep capsule clutched in one hand. If anyone noticed anything, he would let it fall.
But apparently no one did. The red hair and the spilled food was enough to distract the men from the difference in size. Kurt reached the lift and pressed the button to summon the conveyance.
It arrived almost instantly and a man in Patrol uniform stepped off. The fellow's helmet bore the stripe of a Lieutenant, and he walked rapidly, nodding distractedly at Kurt. Kurt nodded back, not looking directly at the man, and waited until he had vanished around the corner. Fannir materialized from his doorway as if by magic, and they entered the lift. The door closed and they moved downward.
**********
Lieutenant Sam Ruffard strode toward the guardroom. Something was nagging at him--an indefinable sensation that something, somewhere, was drastically wrong. Karl's face hovered before his eyes, as it had on and off all day.
The guardroom was exactly as he had left it, except that the repair tech was back and had the video casing open again. The man was working on the device and swearing softly between his teeth. Ruffard glanced at him.
"She went out again?"
"What'cha expect?" the tech grunted. "You guys just can't keep your hands off the bloody thing, can you?"
"Nobody touched it!" Sergeant Greisbach glared at the man.
"Right!" The tech tossed two blackened components to the floor. "One o' you guys thinks it's a real funny joke t'keep fiddlin' with it an t'keep pullin' me back here. Well, I ain't amused." He replaced the parts, muttering under his breath. "Okay, turn her on."
One of the men pressed a button. Nothing happened. The tech swore softly and began to hunt through a tangle of wires. "Okay, who pulled loose the damn nickel-pin?" He adjusted something, there was a click and the screen came on, disclosing once again the interior of the room. Karl was asleep, snuggled beneath the bedclothes with only a wisp of brown hair showing above the covers. The video was still on, and the tray of food lay strewn across the plush carpet. A guard laughed out loud. "Looks like the kid's still mad." Another guard snorted.
Ruffard leaned forward, frowning at the picture. Something was wrong here. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was stinkin' fishy about the whole situation.
He thrust the panel open and strode in. In two long steps he was beside the bed. Grasping the bed clothing, he yanked it back.
**********
Kurt clutched the antigrav cart as the lift moved smoothly downward. The conveyance paused on the fifth level to admit two Procyon servants and a lady Jil, accompanied by three young female Jils, all clad in flowing evening gowns. Kurt stepped back, his eyes lowered, praying none of the aliens would sense the unshielded mind of the Terran psychic within the food cart. Fannir squeezed himself flat against the rear of the lift.
"Get out, both of you!" the Lady commanded imperiously. "There is no room for all of us!"
Kurt was glad to obey. He guided the cart before him between the open doors of the conveyance, and Fannir exited after him with barely concealed haste. The doors closed behind them, and Kurt glanced around for the stairs. Could they maneuver the cart down a flight or two of stairs? Probably--if they were wide enough. The lift was just too risky.
The halls seemed deserted, and from below, he could hear the bass beat of the music. The walls vibrated with the pulse. Nearly everyone was at the concert right now, he hoped, and no one should notice if the two of them took the stairs--at least he hoped not. If questioned, he could think of some excuse.
Within the cart someone stirred and he heard a low moan, silenced instantly. Alan must be recovering.
They had almost reached the stairs when the alarm went off. He'd been half expecting it, of course. Their luck couldn't hold forever. He looked quickly around. They had to get rid of the food cart fast. It would pinpoint them to anyone clued in on what to look for. Maybe Alan had recovered enough by now to walk, or, barring that, Kurt or Fannir could carry him.
There were doors along the corridor, which undoubtedly led to bedrooms--bedrooms which, hopefully, would now be deserted, since the concert was in full swing.
There were footsteps on the stairs. Fannir glanced quickly around and beckoned Kurt toward the nearest door. Together they guided the cart to it, and Fannir reached out to press the control to open it when it swished abruptly open in his face. A Jilectan emerged.
Kurt stepped quickly back, a ready apology on his lips, but the alien aimed a wild swing at him. He tried to dodge, but the blow clipped him on the jaw and spun him sideways. He slammed painfully against a wall, the impact knocking the air from his lungs.
He was in a sitting position, back to the wall, and someone was touching him. He flinched back, trying to bring his hands up.
"Easy, pal. You okay?"
It was a security guard. The man glanced back along the hallway and then turned back to him. "I saw him hit you. What upset him?"
"I don't know," Kurt mumbled. His jaw was throbbing and sparks still crawled on the outer edges of his vision. He looked around. Fannir was kneeling beside him. The Jilectan was nowhere in sight. "I'm okay. Where did he go?"
"Went tearing off toward the lift. Look, are you okay? I gotta go. There's an intruder alarm going off on the seventh level."
"Yeah, sure. Thanks a lot."
The security guard departed at a run, and as he did so a second alarm went off. It was very near, a shrill, screaming whistle. Kurt grasped the food cart and Fannir pressed the control on the wall to open the door before him. It slid aside and together they shoved the cart through, closing and locking the door after them.
They found themselves in a large, beautifully furnished suite, the chairs and tables inlaid with gold and covered with pink plush. A downy rug covered the floor. No one was in sight, but the atmosphere seemed oddly hazy. He smelled smoke.
Sudden realization hit him. The second alarm had been a fire alarm, and he and Fannir, through sheer bad luck, had entered the room where the fire was located.
The Arcturian's golden-green eyes locked with his. Kurt yanked open the door of the food cart. "Out! Quick!"
Karl scrambled out and Fannir pulled Alan out after him. His friend groaned, sagging in the alien's hold. Kurt took him and heaved him to his shoulders in a fireman's carry. "Okay, follow me."
Someone was banging on the door. Kurt looked frantically around, saw another door that must lead to an inner chamber, and ran toward it. His rescued prisoners followed him.
Kurt thrust the door open and fell back, coughing. The room was full of smoke, and through the crackle of flames came the shrill, strident sound of a baby crying. He heard Karl shout something and saw him point to the left. Kurt looked but could see nothing through the smoke.
"Zey are coming." Fannir's voice, typical of an Arcturian, was completely calm. "Come, we must go."
He was right. There was no way they could retreat now. Together they entered the room and Fannir turned to close and bolt the door after them. Kurt glanced around, coughing and squinting through the murky atmosphere.
Through the smoke, he made out delicate, ruffled furniture, but could see little else save lurid flames. But Karl pointed, his voice shrill over the sound of the fire. "There! Over there! It's a Terran lady and a Jil baby!" He started forward and Fannir pulled him back. "Please!" He turned to Kurt. "We've got to help them!"
"He's right!" Kurt spoke rapidly. "Fannir, go with Karl. Get the nanny. Karl, you bring the baby! Hurry! I'll get the window open."
Karl ran forward, Fannir right behind him, jumping through smoke and a thread of flame that had begun to creep across the rug. Kurt, Alan still slung over his shoulders, staggered to the window. To his surprise it was already open, the shade moving softly in the night breeze.
Karl arrived beside him, a shrieking baby clasped in his arms. Fannir arrived a moment later, the body of a tall, rather muscular woman draped across his shoulders. Behind them there was a roar and Kurt looked back to see what must be the child's crib ignite in a huge mushroom of flame.
"The crib!" Karl gasped. "Someone poured some kind of flammable stuff all around it!"
Apparently the arsonist had been here, Kurt thought. So, the guy was a Jil, after all. Still, there was no time to wonder about it. The fire was spreading fast.
"Follow me!" He climbed through the window and led the way down the steep, ladder-like steps of the fire escape. Behind them the flames roared, smoke billowing from the still open window.
No one was in sight as yet, but that couldn't last, and beneath them the steps of the fire escape descended to the brightly lighted grounds of the Viceregal Estate.
He alighted on the grass a moment later. Karl was right beside him, his movements light and quick--the typical psychic, Kurt thought. The baby in his arms was still wailing, but hopefully no one could hear it. From somewhere not far away, faintly, Kurt could still hear the raucous strains of Lola Davenport's rock band, continuing in spite of the alarms sounding in the palace. But that, too, couldn't last long.
Fannir, hindered by the woman, was slower to descend the fire escape. He arrived, panting, his taloned claws gripping the legs of his burden. The woman's hair was singed, Kurt noticed, but there was no time for a thorough examination. He motioned to his companions and led the way across the grounds toward the parking lot.
The psychic boy was limping, he saw, and Fannir came up beside him, shifting his grip on the woman and grasping the boy one-handed. "Come, my friend. I will help you."
They pounded breathlessly toward the parking lot. Kurt felt Alan stir against his shoulder, his muscles flexing. "Kurt?" he muttered.
"Hang on, Colonel!" Kurt panted. He dodged between cars, one eye out for security guards. There were none. All of them must have headed for the mansion to assist with whatever the emergency was, when the alarms had sounded.
He paused beside one of the Jilectan limousines, tried the handle, then set Alan down. His friend's legs wobbled.
"Alan, can you open the door?" Kurt clamped an arm about him. "Hurry! We're running out of time."
Alan looked blearily at him, then seemed suddenly to comprehend. He reached toward the handle of the door and gripped it. Behind them sirens wailed, mingling with the shrilling of the alarms. The baby continued to howl.
He pulled the door open. Kurt reached inside and touched a control. The hood popped up.
"Get them inside!" he barked at Fannir, then ran around the vehicle to bend over the open hood. Almost automatically, he bypassed the engine lock and proceeded to hotwire the car. The engine roared to life.
He slammed the hood, ran around the car again and slid behind the controls. Fannir had pushed Alan and Karl into the rear and taken the front passenger seat for himself and the unconscious nanny.
Kurt touched a control and the car soared upward. He spun the wheel and sent them tearing away from the approaching emergency vehicles.
Alan spoke, his voice unsteady, but clear. "Kurt, what happened? It looks like the mansion is on fire over there."
"It is," Kurt told him. "But it wasn't us that did it. We had a little run-in with the arsonist--you know, the one who's been setting fire to Jil mansions? It's another Jil--young fellow with sort of reddish brown hair and grey eyes. I saw him--face to face."
"Kurt!"
"Yeah. He hit me--tried to kill me, I guess, then took off running. I went into the room he'd just come out of, and bingo! There was a fire in there. He must have been the one who set it."
The Jilectan baby whimpered and let out a short howl. Kurt heard Alan draw in his breath sharply. "A Jilectan baby!"
"He was in the room with the fire," Karl said.
"And zee nanny was zere, too," Fannir put in. "She had been knocked unconscious."
"I had 'em bring the kid and the nanny along," Kurt put in. "We left the food cart behind in the room--the kid's nursery, I guess it was--and went down the fire escape."
"On, man!" Alan sat up straighter, rubbing his head. "So, the arsonist is a Jil!"
"Looks like it." Kurt glanced quickly at the rear scanners. No pursuit; at least not yet. "Now what?"
"Follow the emergency plan. They'll be expecting us, given the unexpected events."
"Got it." Kurt turned the car away from the direction of the gate and headed toward the forested lands of the enormous estate. "I hope nobody notices the car missing until we're out of here." He glanced in the mirror. "Is that a boy or a girl you have there?"
A short pause. "It's a boy," Karl said.
"Lord Talthzar," Alan said. "It has to be. That's going to present another situation altogether. We've got the Viceroy's heir apparent, here. It looks like somebody wanted him out of the way. Somebody with Viceregal ambitions?"
"Could be," Kurt said. "It would be interesting to see who the victims were in the other fires."
"Regardless," Alan said, "they're going to blame us -- at least initially. As soon as they realize that their psychic is gone."
"I'm keeping us low to the ground," Kurt said. "I hope they don't start looking for this thing's locator."
"It won't matter," Alan said. "I already took care of it."
Kurt nodded silently. "The nanny can clear us."
"If she saw him," Fannir interjected.
"How's she doing?" Kurt asked.
"I zink she is waking up." The Arcturian shook the woman gently.
On cue, the nanny groaned and a moment later, her eyes opened. She looked around blearily for several seconds.
"Where..." The word was a thick mutter.
"Remain still, Miss," Fannir said.
"What's happened?" Another rustle of movement and the woman straightened up, rubbing a hand over her face. "Where..." She pushed herself upright abruptly, wincing as she did so. "Where's Lord Talthzar?"
"He's right here, Miss," Karl said.
"He's all right?"
"He's fine. He's asleep."
A long sigh and the nanny spoke again, voice a little unsteady. "What happened?"
It was clear that she didn't realize yet that she was in the hands of the enemy. Kurt spoke gently. "We came in and found the nursery on fire. A Jilectan ran out just before we went in. He hit me when he saw me and seemed to be in a big hurry. Young Lord, nicely dressed..."
"Yes." She moved convulsively. "Yes. I came in and found him pouring stuff around the crib. I started to ask what he was doing, and he hit me."
"Do you know who he was?" Kurt asked.
"No, but I'd know him if I saw him again." A pause, and Kurt saw her move a little away from Fannir, rubbing her face again. "Look, you'd better take me to His Highness right away. I have to tell him... hey! Where are we? What are we doing out here?"
"Give me the baby," Alan said. Kurt heard movement in the rear seat and a moment later, Alan lifted the child over the seat. "Here you go, Miss Attenbury. As you can see, he's not hurt."
Miss Attenbury took the child and appeared to examine him closely. Kurt couldn't resist a pointed comment. "All twenty-four fingers and toes are there, I promise."
The woman stiffened. Kurt continued, "If we'd wanted to hurt him we could have left both of you there, you know."
"Kurt." Alan's voice sounded faintly reproving. "Miss Attenbury, you're only here because we couldn't leave you or Lord Talthzar to die. We're going to drop you off in the trees. It's probably no more than a mile or two back to the mansion. By the time you arrive, we'll be long gone. You might, however, be very careful when you do get there. Whoever the Jilectan was that tried to kill Talthzar and you, he'll know that you can identify him. It sounds to me as if someone may have Viceregal ambitions."
Miss Attenbury nodded. "I thought of that," she said. "It wouldn't be the first time. But, that means Lord Halthzor's other sons could be in danger, too. And, so could he!"
"That's true," Alan said. "Take us down here for a moment, Kurt."
McDougal obeyed, without comment. Fannir slid out of the limousine and held the door for the woman.
"How is your head?" he asked, as Miss Attenbury stepped out onto the forest floor.
"It will be fine," she said. "Why should you care, anyway?"
The Arcturian shrugged. "My friends care," he said. "If zey care, so do I. I do not wish to see zee innocent suffer. Do not go straight to zee mansion, Miss Attenbury. Find a guard to escort you. It will be safer bozz for you and zee young Lord."
The woman inclined her head.
"Take this," Alan said. He handed Fannir a small, handlight. "It's getting dark, pretty fast."
The Arcturian passed it to the nanny. "I wish you good luck, Miss Attenbury."
"Thank you," the nanny said. She turned and moved off in the direction of the mansion.
**********
"It's funny," Karl said as they wove their way toward the forcefield that protected the estate, "you saved my life and I don't even know your names."
Kurt glanced back at him and grinned. "Kurt McDougal, Karl. Glad to meet you. And the guy sitting beside you is Alan Westover."
In the mirror, Kurt saw Alan wipe a trickle of blood from his cheek and extend a hand toward the boy. Karl stared at the hand a moment, then took it, his eyes round with astonishment. "Alan...Westover? *The* Alan Westover?"
"How do you do, Karl?"
"I'm fine now." The boy gulped. "Holy space! I bashed *Alan Westover* twice! Oh, gosh, I'm sorry! I had no idea who..."
"Of course not." Alan rubbed the bump on his head, smiling ruefully. "How could you? It was my fault, really. I should have suspected something when the guards told me about the video acting up. If I'd had any sense, I'd have tried to contact you, then, and let you know what we were up to."
"I sensed you coming," Karl confessed. "Your mind, I mean, and you seemed just like all the other Jil flunkies I'd met. I didn't even think you might be coming to help me. I mean, I could read you just as easily as anything."
"You didn't sense anything different?" Alan asked.
Karl hesitated. "Well, once or twice while you were outside the door, I had the impression that something was missing--like I was only seeing part of your mind. I thought it was my imagination, but I guess not, huh?"
"It's called selective shielding. I'm a lot more careful with it when I'm in the presence of a Jil, believe me. I wasn't being careful when I came to get you, which is why my mind felt odd to you."
"I see. Look, are you really all right? I hit you awfully hard. I was angry, worrying about Fannir, and I guess a little desperate. I really didn't care if I killed you."
"I'll be okay," Alan said. "It's not like I haven't been hit before. I want to hear about your whole escape plan, later. I'm interested in what you had in mind. Up until we butted in, it looked like you were doing just fine."
"Oh, no! I'm glad you did butt in. I'd probably have gotten myself killed. My plan was pretty desperate."
"Well, it worked pretty good as far as you got."
He broke into the conversation. "Alan?"
"Yes, Kurt?"
"We're coming up on the barrier."
"Right. I've signaled. When a spot opens, head right for it. We'll have about five seconds. We're running out of time."
"How do you know?"
"I've felt the mind of a Jil, sweeping the area twice now."
"Oh," Kurt said. "It's too bad you can't teach him to shield, real quick."
"I can shield," Karl said.
"You can?" Alan turned to look at him. "Don't tell me Halthzor taught you?"
"No. Halthzor forbade me to do it, or to even practice it, so I'm probably not very good. It was two little Jil girls who taught me."
"Two little... never mind. You don't have your shielding up now. Raise it."
"All right." Karl closed his eyes, appearing to concentrate. He'd never practiced, Kurt thought. Shielding was automatic with most Undergrounders, who were taught from the moment they joined the Underground to keep their shielding up constantly unless they didn't care if their thoughts were being read. But Karl, although he knew the fundamentals, had been firmly instructed not to implement them.
"Not bad," Alan said. "You need practice, though. I think a good tracer would still be able to find you. Still, it should do, for now."
The barrier was visible, now, a wall of energy that showed as a pale, iridescent shimmer in the darkness. As the car neared it, a hole perhaps three meters in diameter opened in the energy field, flaring yellow around the edges. Kurt aimed the car directly toward it and hit the accelerator.
The hole closed almost on their tailfins. Kurt braked hard and brought the Jilectan car down in the shadow of a wide spreading bell tree. The huge, trailing limbs, covered with bell-shaped leaves dipped to the ground, effectively concealing the limousine from sight.
"Everybody out," Kurt said. "We're all clear so far, but it can't last much longer. The skippership is about a hundred yards straight ahead."
**********
Chapter 43
Edwin seized the little girl's hand. "Lets get going! Hurry!"
Ellie glanced quickly back, and Ed did, too. Someone was coming, and was close behind. He urged Loreen and her children ahead of him. There was a Jil back there, all right. Close. The aura was clear now.
The cliff beside him had a familiar look, didn't it? Yes, he was sure of it! Mentally he reached back, scanning for their pursuers, wincing at the aura of the Jilectan. How many were with him? In his hurry he couldn't be sure, but clear and sharp, though fleeting, he sensed the mind of the Terran psychic who had assisted Comishvor in tracking them. Fury welled up in him. Blast the kid! Stephen was right! He was sure the boy was doing it for no other reason than to keep Comishvor off his own neck. He started to close his shields.
A voice burst in his mind. *Ed!*
"Cory!" He shouted his friend's name aloud, relief washing over him like a great wave. *Cory, you're alive!*
*Sure am.*
*Where are you?*
*I'm with the Terran Underground. Where are you?*
"He's with the Underground! You were right, Lori!" Edwin spoke telepathically to Cory again. *I'm trying to reach my ship, and Comishvor's after me. He's getting close.*
*Hurry, Ed. How far do you have to go?*
*I think we're almost there. I have Lori and her two kids with me.*
*Lori's with you? Then you know about your son.*
*Yes. How did you know?*
*The Undergrounders told me.*
*And how did they know?*
*You wouldn't believe how much they know. Better close your shields. Just open 'em occasionally so I can pinpoint you. We're on our way.*
*Okay.* Ed swallowed hard. *Glad you're okay, Cory.*
*Yeah, I'm glad, too. I'll tell you all about it soon. Get moving, and get to your ship if you can.*
Ed put up his shields. Lori was smiling at him. "He's okay. Oh, thank God, he's okay."
Ellie clutched his hand. "I feel sick, Mr. White! I think I'm going to...
Ed pulled her forward, at the same time opening his shields again. *Cory!*
*Coming, Ed!*
*Hurry! They're after us, and they're awfully close. I'm not sure, but I think I'm picking up more than one Jil.*
*How close is your ship?*
*Uh... just a kilometer, or so. Maybe not that much.*
*Can you make it?*
*Maybe. I'm not sure.*
*Stay in contact. Forget about your shields. He must know where you are now. If your shields are open, I'll be able to guide them better.*
*Okay.* Ed yanked Ellie along forcibly. The presences behind him were making his scalp prickle. There was definitely more than one Jil there. Who was the other one? Had Comishvor brought along Lady Gootishville? No, it wasn't her. It was the aura of a male.
Before him, unbelievably, loomed the cave where he had hidden the ship.
*Cory, we're there!*
*Good! Let me know as soon as you get her in the air.*
*I will.* Ed pulled Ellie through the opening and Loreen and Stephen followed.
The little girl was gasping something about Karl, but he was too busy to listen. Behind them was the thud of feet, and ahead, revealed by his handlight, the dark bulk of the escape craft.
Loreen cried out and Stephen yelled something. Ed glanced back and saw figures enter the cave behind them, and even in the dim light he knew what they were. Viceregal patrolmen, and behind them the tall, slender form of a Jilectan.
A blaster hummed and he felt the beam pass close enough to raise the short hairs on his neck. Stephen turned and dropped to one knee, blaster gripped before him with both hands. The weapon cracked and there was a scream of pain.
"Keep 'em busy while I get her open!" Ed ran up the boarding ramp, hearing behind him another hum and a cry from Ellie. Two blasters cracked simultaneously in reply and there was a scream, too high-pitched to issue from a human throat. Someone had clipped the Jil.
Ed's fingers flew and he gave the voice code. The hatch slid open. Behind him, someone was shouting, "M'lord! M'lord, are you hurt?" The words were punctuated by more blaster fire.
"Come on!" Ed yelled. He turned and fired at the approaching figures. They fell back, and a blaster beam raised a smoking blister on the hull of the ship above his head. He ducked instinctively, firing back.
"Come on!" he shouted.
Another figure appeared behind the patrolmen and a blaster roared. A great mushroom of flame billowed forth, engulfing the patrolmen and filling the foremost part of the cave. As it subsided, Ed, through the ringing in his ears, could hear a thin screaming. Blinking back tears, he saw more figures appear at the mouth of the cave--the Lady Jil! Holy smoke, he *had* brought her along! Surrounding her were three gaudily clad pirates. At their feet was a hunched, crawling shape, creeping feebly toward the cave mouth--the Jilectan, he realized, who had been with the patrolmen.
Not Comishvor. Edwin caught an indistinct impression of blond, fantastically kinked hair and clothing embroidered lavishly with silver frost and jewels.
Loreen and Ellie ran up the ramp to pause at the hatch. Loreen pushed Ellie on in, but remained beside Edwin, a blaster clutched before her.
Comishvor, surrounded by his pirates, stepped into view. Lady Gootishville moved up beside him, tossing blond hair back from her face. She glanced scornfully at the crawling figure of the Jilectan noble at her feet and aimed a kick at him. The injured alien moaned, writhing sideways. Around him, Ed could see the figures of his escort--or rather, what was left of his escort. The pain from the injured men tore at him. He put his shields up and hardened them, placing an arm around Loreen, the blaster steady on Comishvor and the pirates.
"I'll set it on overload, M'lord!" he spoke tightly. "You try to approach me, and I'll throw it. I'll blow you all to pieces!"
"I think not, Edwin." Comishvor gestured casually with one hand and a pirate stepped forward pushing a boy before him. The kid was stumbling, obviously at the end of his strength, and clutched in his arms...
Ed swallowed hard. The boy held a baby, it's small figure swathed in blankets. In the sudden silence, the little one's whimpering wail could be heard. The tiny head turned, and Ed caught a glimpse of Cory's daughter--the lovely little face and dark, waving hair.
"I believe you have met your friend's child before?" Comishvor's mocking voice held unconcealed triumph. "Miriam has named her Kimmie. Do you still intend to throw an overloaded blaster my way, Edwin?"
Ed felt his shoulders slump. "M'lord... no... please, for God's sake..."
"And Miriam, of course I could not leave her behind." He gestured again and another pirate stepped forward, Miriam gripped before him.
"Come, Edwin, it is so useless to fight me. Often we have sparred, but you have never triumphed. Put your blaster down."
"What about Loreen?"
"Your woman? She may come, and the female child, too."
"And Stephen?"
"Stephen? Oh, the boy. I do not want him, Edwin. He will be nothing but trouble if I read the signs correctly. He remains here."
Stephen yelled an obscenity at the Jilectan, and for an instant all eyes turned toward him. The boy holding Kimmie moved, lunging forward with sudden, amazing strength. Comishvor reacted with the lightning reflexes of his species, jumping after him. Stephen's blaster cracked and Comishvor voiced a scream. Lady Gootishville fired, and at the same instant Loreen's blaster cracked. The Lady's shot missed Ed by a hairsbreadth, but Loreen's caught the Lady full in the chest. She was hurled backward against the pirates behind her.
The psychic boy was staggering up the ramp, sobbing broken pleas for help. The baby wailed, and Stephen scrambled up the ramp behind the psychic boy, firing over his shoulder at the stupefied pirates. They recovered quickly, returning the fire. The one holding Miriam fled, dragging the girl with him.
Stephen went past, catching the psychic boy by one arm and dragging him and his small burden through the hatch. Ed grabbed Loreen and followed, feeling a blaster bolt barely crease his leg as he went through. Absentmindedly he slapped at the smoldering material of his pants as he pushed his wife out of the line of fire.
"Shut it!" he yelled, and ran forward toward the control room. Stephen and Loreen followed, leaving the children in the passenger cabin.
*Cory!* Ed's shields were open, locating his friend's mind again at once. *We're on board, but Miriam's still outside with Comishvor and his pirates!*
*We're on our way!* The contact was close! Cory was coming fast. *The Patrol's been alerted, too. We've picked up their transmissions. Linthvar--the Jil who was tracking you--called them! Get out of there! We'll take care of Miriam!*
Edwin triggered the emergency start sequence and the repulsers roared. The ship surged forward out of the cave and upward into Corala's star-studded sky.
*We're away, Cory!*
*Good! The Underground's sending ships to cover you. Set for Terra. Meet us at Finnian's Imports, Dublin, Ireland! Got it?*
*Finnian's Imports, Dublin, Ireland! Got it. Cory... my boy... the Jils have him...*
*I know. The Underground's on it. Just head for Finnian's Imports. Don't try to go back to Corala! Understand?*
"Ed!" Loreen cried.
*Cory, we have a Patrol battlecruiser after us!*
*Try to hold out. Help is on the way.*
*Tell them to hurry!* Ed clutched the controls, setting for Terra. Would they make it? Not unless the Underground showed up awfully fast!
On the screen, the huge disk of the cruiser seemed to race toward them. A Shallokian accented voice spoke from the com. "Jilectan escape craft, you are ordered to lay to! We have you in our sights! Lay to and prepare for a tractor beam!"
So, they thought it was that easy, did they? Edwin pulled the lifeboat sideways, glancing at the comp. Three minutes to hyperspace, and here came the Underground's ships to cover. They were going to be okay, if they could just stay ahead of that guy a couple of seconds more...
"Stay on course, Ed." It was another voice on the com, this one carrying a distinctive Terran accent. "We're coming."
It was almost impossible to ignore the cruiser. Ed glanced at the comp again. Less than two minutes now. They were clearing the gravity well. The Patrol ship was almost within firing range. Seconds to go...
The Underground's cover ships, two sleek, needlenosed craft, roared past the larger vessel, firing. The Viceregal battlecruiser pivoted slightly, forced to defend itself.
"Here comes another one!" Loreen's voice held consternation.
She was right. A second Patrol cruiser had appeared, closing in from the side. Ed gritted his teeth. One minute to hyperspace. Stephen crowded close, and he spoke sharply to the boy. "Go make sure those kids are strapped in. And strap yourself in, too!"
"Yessir!" The boy vanished. Ed glanced at the comp.
"Twenty seconds..."
"Are we going to make it?"
"Sure we are!"
He hoped. That second cruiser was turning on the Terran ships, distracting them, Ten seconds. Nine... eight... seven...
The cruiser fired. The shot struck them, throwing them all sideways as the lifeboat, with a teeth-rattling jolt, converted. For an instant the stars on the viewscreen formed a rainbow swirl of color, then faded into the darkness of hyperspace.
**********
