Slave Race: 32/?
by Nan Smith and Linda Garrick
Chapter 48
"Concentrate." Leroy Burke, his face intent, fixed Karl Warren with his pale blue eyes. "See it in your mind and make it move."
Karl tried to obey--to shut out his surroundings and envision the tiny tenth credit in his mind. He saw it, all right, but he couldn't feel it, as Burke had said he should be able to. After a moment of futile groping, he gave up. A trickle of sweat ran down his cheek and he swiped at it surreptitiously with the back of his hand. The old feeling of inadequacy nibbled at him. Burke grimaced and shook his head.
"Interesting," the psychic trainer murmured, obviously speaking to himself. He made a note on the pad beside him.
"What's interesting, Roy?"
Karl turned to see his grandparents, Alice and Gregory Cornwall, enter the room.
Gregory came forward to rest both hands on the boy's shoulders. "Are you cudgelin' my grandson's brain, Major?"
Burke grimaced again and looked puzzled. "It's just so unusual that a psychic of his strength and versatility should lack so common a trait as telekinesis--and precognition, too."
"Scientists!" Alice lifted a dark eyebrow at the little man. "Even sweet little Alan's talent's aren't limitless. What's he got? Seven?"
"Eight," Leroy said, absently. "And most of them exceptionally strong. We're certain that both of his parents were psychics. But Karl, here, seems to possess a generous helping of unusual talents--two of which we have never encountered before--although they must exist in others. He's a linguist. All he needs is to hear a language spoken a few times and he has it mastered. He's an illusionist--a rare, extremely useful talent, and he also has that amazing ability to short out electrical devices. Then he possesses several more common talents--empathy, clairvoyance and telepathy. That makes six, and it is inconceivable to me that he does not also possess telekinesis and precognition. Now listen, my boy..."
"Oh Leroy!" A small, dark-haired lady had entered the room behind Karl's grandparents. "Give the boy a rest. You've been at this for two solid hours now!"
Karl glanced gratefully at Leroy Burke's wife. Wanda Burke smiled at him, and one long lashed eye fluttered in a wink. Leroy appeared suddenly uneasy. "Dear me, have I been inconsiderate? I'm sorry, my boy. I guess I do go a little wild when new psychic talents surface--particularly talents which the Jils do not, themselves, possess. I beg your pardon. You are free to go now, but I'd like to have you back after lunch if you... oh, hello, Marilyn."
Karl turned. A girl of about his own age had entered the room. She was small and slight-boned, with light brown, wavy hair and deep blue eyes. She smiled.
"Hello, Grandpa."
"Karl, I'd like you to meet my granddaughter, Marilyn."
"Hello," Karl said, returning her smile.
"Hi," she said. "I heard about you--the one the Jils got hold of."
He nodded.
She grinned. "Some people have all the fun. Grandpa, I came to ask if I could go flying."
"Certainly. Be careful."
"I will. Thanks." She turned to go, but paused at the door. "Want to come with me, Karl?"
"Uh..." Karl glanced at his grandfather.
Gregory Cornwall laughed. "Go ahead, kid, but hang onto your hat. I've seen her fly."
The girl giggled and extended a hand to Karl. "Come on!"
"Be back by 1300," his grandmother called after him. "You're not to miss lunch."
"We will!" Karl ran down the corridor beside the girl.
She slowed to a walk as they reached the exit and glanced sideways at him, grinning.
"I'll bet you were about to hit me when I said 'fun'."
"I knew you were joking."
"Of course. I heard about the whole thing. Sounds like it was murder. Did you get a good, close up view of old Halthzie?" Her voice was careless and happy, lacking any hint of deference or respect.
Karl had to school his reply carefully so she wouldn't realize how the memory of the Jilectan Viceroy still had the power to frighten him. "Yes. He's uh... quite a Jil."
"How did he have his hair fixed this time?"
Karl thought back. "It was different every time I saw him," he told the girl. "The last time, it was kind of frizzed, with curled bangs."
She giggled. "What kind of earrings?"
"Teardrops--pink, with pearls on the lobe."
Marilyn made a gagging noise and giggled. Karl found himself laughing, too, some of his restraint passing. "And he had a fluted cape with red lace and tight red leggings."
"Oh God!" She giggled again. "Did you hear that Lord Rovalthvar, Revolthvor's youngest son, has gone into seclusion to 'recuperate from the trauma sustained during the events of the fire'?"
"No; should I have?"
"The word is that he was the arsonist that you ran into. The scuttlebutt says that he thought that his mom had an affair with Halthzor while he was still the head of Viceregal Intelligence, and that Halthzor's actually his father. He'd decided that it was his holy mission or something to save the Autonomy from the corruption of their class system, so he was trying to eliminate the competition." Marilyn rolled her eyes and made a rude noise. "Anyway, the nanny identified him and they put him on ice."
"Wow. Sounds like he's really lost it."
"I'll say. Halthzor's next in line to the Warlordship, you know. I guess the guy had his eye on the top spot."
"I'm not sure if that would be better or worse," Karl said.
"Me, either," Marilyn said. She sobered, suddenly. "I'm glad they got him, though. They were trying to pin the fires on us."
"It figures," Karl said, philosophically.
"Yeah," she said. Her mood changed again. "Come on, my skipper's over here."
"A skippership?"
"More than that. You'll see. I'm a junior fighter pilot. They train every telepath on the base to fly, and at fourteen we're trained in combat--in case we ever have to defend the base. Telepaths are used because we can communicate with each other without radios."
"What's wrong with radios?"
"Other people might hear what you're saying--people who have no business listening in. And besides, radios can malfunction or break. Telepaths don't malfunction and it takes a helluva lot to break us. Whupps, I'm not supposed to swear. Grandma doesn't like it."
"Where are your parents, Marilyn?"
"On a mission to Ranlach right now. They're psychic partners." She spoke casually. "I don't have a partner yet."
"Oh." Karl felt a little confused. "Well, I'll be your partner if you like."
She laughed and squeezed his hand. "What a nice offer! But it isn't that easy. Psychic partners aren't chosen. They just happen--two psychics whose minds come together just right. You'll know when it happens to you--well, maybe not right away, but you'll figure it out sooner or later now that you know what to look for."
"Oh."
They had entered the ships' hangars now, and Marilyn pointed proudly to a handsome silver skipper, the sides embossed in a delicate pattern of red and white. "That's mine."
"All yours?"
She pouted slightly. "Well, no. There aren't enough to go around, so I have to share with four other cadets. But I'm the best."
"I'll bet you are." He glanced at her admiringly. "Who taught you?"
"Ted Moon. He's the best instructor we have."
"He's a psychic, too?"
"Of course. According to him, I'm a natural. Come on. I'll show you."
Karl climbed into the seat beside the girl and watched enviously as she confidently manipulated controls and set the computer coordinates. The control tower cleared them, and an instant later the little craft eased forward out of its hangar and soared upward into the vast blue sky of Lavirra.
Air screamed against the hull, then gradually ceased. Marilyn glanced at the control board. "Clearing atmosphere. See the readout there? Pull lessening."
Karl watched her, fascinated. "Wow!"
She grinned, obviously enjoying herself, and abruptly flipped the little craft sideways, pressing them both into their safety webbing. She spoke to the computer. "Simulate battle, Jean...uh...level three."
"Simulation," the computer spoke back. It's voice was a male baritone, slightly husky. The screen changed suddenly to show a Patrol cruiser moving in, flanked by two scouts. Karl couldn't help but grimace as they roared forward and Marilyn put the nose down. The instruments indicated that the weapons computer had fired and that one of her shots struck a smaller craft, which exploded into a fake ball of flame. Again the skipper turned, coming around at a sharp angle. Karl glanced at the girl and saw that her eyes were shining. Again they roared past. The cruiser took a shot at them, which missed, as Marilyn brought them up in a sharp angle. She laughed as the skipper buzzed past the simulated Patrol cruiser, firing almost into its gun ports.
"Cruiser's gyratron disabilized," Jean, the computer, reported.
Marilyn brought them around, the other scout now on her tail. It fired and Jean registered a hit.
"Darn! He got us!" Marilyn slapped the board before her. "Oh well. We did pretty good. Level three is only one from the most difficult." She switched off the simulation and the stars returned to the screen, sparkling peacefully against the darkness. She grinned at Karl. "Well? Whatcha think of it?"
"It looks great. Wish I could learn."
"I'll teach you to pilot. You ever pilot before?"
"No. I've done simulator stuff, of course, on computer games."
She pressed a button. "There. We're on manual control now. Don't let it scare you. The computer still does most of the work. Go ahead. Take her."
Karl took the control levers in his hands, excitement trickling through him at the feel of the ship under his control. Marilyn pointed out other instruments.
"That's the blasters. You can fire 'em manually, but you'll miss. Even the comp misses. There's the accelerator, and there's the repulser regulator. It's controlled this way."
Karl nodded. He pressed the thumb control and the craft picked up speed. "Gosh! I thought skippers were supposed to just get you from one place to another."
"They are. But our techs have added weapons and souped ours up for combat. As you saw in the simulation, it works pretty well."
"It sure does. Show me the computer, Marilyn."
"Okay."
For over an hour she instructed him in flying, setting the computer, and in the rudimentary rules of combat. At last she let him take the controls during a level one simulation. Karl managed to hold off his attacker for a good ten minutes before finally getting shot down. Marilyn watched him in surprise.
"Hey! You're good at this!"
"I am?"
"Yeah! You're a natural, like me! You have the makings of a wonderful pilot!"
"Thanks!"
"Do you want to learn? I'll tell Ted if you do, and he can begin teaching you."
"Sure. I'd have to, anyway, wouldn't I? I mean, I'm fifteen."
"He can start you now if you want to. You'd be a lot of help, and we can always use another good pilot. Come on, help me with the landing. I'll show you how."
They disembarked in the hangar and Marilyn grabbed his hand. "Come on. Let's go get some lunch."
"Okay. I'm supposed to be back in your grandfather's study by 1400."
She glanced at her chronometer and made a face. "We'll have to hurry. Come on."
They ran. As they crossed the compound, Karl felt a telepathic message form in his mind. *Hey, Marilyn, when are you having lunch?*
*Right now, John,* came the girl's reply.
*Can I meet you there?*
*Okay.*
Karl glanced at Marilyn as they trotted up the walk to the mess hall. "Who was that?"
"John Burke."
"A relative of yours?"
"A cousin. No, wait, first cousin once removed. There's a lot of us Burkes here at the station. My grandparents had twenty kids, and all of 'em were psychics."
"Gosh!"
"Yeah. I'm the daughter of their seventh--Will. John's my dad's cousin."
"Oh. So he's older than you?"
She laughed. "A year younger."
"Oh."
"When there's twenty kids in a family, the ages are sort of spread around. Grandpa's brother, Shawn, is thirty years younger than grandpa, and the same age as my dad--110. And Shawn's kid--my dad's cousin,--is John, who's fourteen. I'm fifteen. John has twelve brothers and sisters, all of 'em psychics, and his mom's expecting again in about four months."
"Gosh! The folks here on Lavirra sure believe in big families, don't they?"
"That's why we're here." Marilyn glanced soberly at him as they entered the building. "All of us. The more psychics the better, if we're ever going to beat the Jils."
They got in line at the counter. It was late, and most of the people had already been through the line. Karl lowered his voice.
"Do you think we ever can? I've been with Halthzor, Marilyn. He's an awesome Jil. He... well, I tried not to show it before, but he scared me to death. I could never have defied him."
"You might have surprised yourself, eventually." She dimpled. "I heard about you. Fannir says you were magnifissent!"
Karl found himself flushing. "Fannir's an Arcturian. He's grateful that I spoke up for him and saved his life. I wasn't that magnificent."
She shrugged, helping herself to the food. Grilled sandwiches of some kind, he saw, and fresh fruit. And soup, the color of dirty water. He avoided it, contenting himself with a sandwich and a reddish orb, which he thought he recognized as a Terran apple.
"Hey, Mari!"
Karl glanced across to see a boy enter the building and wave to the girl. She waved back and headed for a seat, Karl following.
"Karl?"
He saw it was Cory, his father's friend, who had hailed him. Marilyn saw him, too, and her eyes widened. "Hey! Who's that?"
"Cory Livingston. He arrived about the same time I did. He's my father's friend."
"Wow! What a dreamboat!" Marilyn's eyes were shining. "Introduce me, will you?"
Karl had to hide a smile. "Okay."
Cory came over to their table. "Hi, Karl!"
"Hi, Cory."
"It's Lieutenant Livingston now, I'll have you know." Cory flashed the insignia at him. He glanced at Marilyn, smiling.
"Cory, this is Cadet Marilyn Burke," Karl said. "Marilyn, this is Lieutenant Cornelius Livingston."
"And if you ever call me that again, I'll have you thrown in the brig. It's Cory, Miss Burke. Pleased to meet you."
"Call me Mari." She reached out to shake hands with him. The apple rolled from the tray he held, plummeted toward the floor, paused in mid descent and floated back up to the tray.
Marilyn hardly seemed to notice. She shook Cory's hand and smiled breathtakingly.
"Please sit down, Cory."
He did so, and Karl saw that he had already eaten part of his lunch. The sandwich had two bites out of it. Karl seated himself as well. "How's the grilled whatever-it-is, Cory?"
"I think it's supposed to be ham. The guy butchered it."
Marilyn giggled. "We have a lousy cook."
"I see neither of you trusted the soup," Cory said. "Very wise of you." He glanced at the hardly-touched liquid in his own bowl. "I've never tasted anything quite like it before, and I hope I never do again."
A boy appeared behind Marilyn, glancing uncertainly at the girl and her two male companions. "I think I'll sit over there with Lonnie if it's okay with you, Mari," he announced, sounding, thought Karl, a bit sulky. He probably hadn't expected to find his pretty cousin already accompanied by two escorts.
"Okay," she said carelessly. "Any sign of your friend yet, Cory?"
Cory's expression sobered. "No. They're still looking, of course." He met Karl's eyes across the table.
"They're alive," Karl said, before he thought.
Marilyn was watching him. "How do you know?"
"I don't know."
"They're partners," Cory said. "Karl and his sister are, that is. At least, we're pretty sure they are. Karl apparently warned her when he was taken by the Jils."
"Oh." Marilyn nodded soberly. "Sure. Psychic partners always know. I was there when Joe Hench's partner was killed. Harley was ten light years away, and Joe knew it at once."
Karl didn't want to think about the possibility of Ellie being killed. "They're still looking along the possible trajectories," he said. "I mean, it's only been a week. They may show up yet."
"Sure hope so." Cory took another mouthful of soup, grimaced and pushed the bowl away. "Miriam's almost going out of her mind worrying about Kimmie."
"Who's Miriam?" Marilyn asked.
"My wife. Kimmie's our daughter. She was on the ship with Ed when it took off."
Karl saw Marilyn's expression change. "You're married?"
"Yes."
"Oh."
She picked up her sandwich and took a bite. Cory winked at Karl across the table.
**********
Chapter 49
Seventy hours had passed, and still the little craft hurtled unchecked through hyperspace. Supplies had dwindled, and Stephen watched them with growing dismay. They were now down to their last few ration cakes and even the water supplies were becoming critical.
Comishvor stood up, stretching his long limbs. The Jilectan appeared to have recovered completely from his terrible wound and had become annoyingly bossy over the past three ship days. Edwin placated him, Jack avoided him and the others largely ignored him. Stephen wondered what Comishvor would do when the last of the food was gone.
What would any of them do, for that matter?
It was seventy more hours before he was to find out. Comishvor ate the last of his wafer, washed it down with a swig of water, stood up and went to the cupboard.
"What are you doing, sir?" Edwin asked sharply.
Comishvor didn't reply. He removed one of the boxes of powdered milk from the cupboard.
"Put that back!" Loreen was on her feet. "That's Kimmie's!"
Comishvor paid no heed. He tipped the package up, pouring the powder into a container.
Stephen drew out his blaster and pointed it at the alien. "You take one swallow of that, Jil, and it'll be your last."
Comishvor glanced toward him, annoyance mirrored in his handsome features. "It is mine, Terran. Up until now I have generously allowed that Terran infant to consume it. I now reclaim it."
Edwin also drew his blaster. "Put it down, sir."
The Jilectan glanced disdainfully at him. "What did you say, Terran psychic?"
"I said put it down."
"You would not kill me, Edwin. I have seen that in your mind many times. You owe your life to me--you, a Terran psychic, condemned to death by my species."
White steadied the blaster in both hands. "Do you also recall, sir, our previous disagreement where Cory is concerned? I wouldn't kill you, unless his life was at stake--and I'm afraid that stipulation now includes Cory's child. That milk is all we have to keep her alive."
"It does not matter, Edwin. We will soon starve to death, ourselves. Once we are dead, she will die, too."
"Be that as it may, I will not allow you to take the only food on board that she is able to eat. Put it down."
"You would sacrifice me for a Terran female?"
"Cory's daughter? Certainly."
"I do not believe you."
"Then read my mind. My shields are down."
Stephen watched in surprise as Edwin White defied his former master. He hadn't expected it. White had struck him as utterly subservient to the alien when treating his injuries and Stephen hadn't imagined he could actually say no to him. Comishvor stood motionless, the glass in his hand, then took a menacing step forward. "Put the blaster down, Edwin."
White wet his lips and pressed them together. His face was very pale, but he didn't retreat. "I give you five seconds, M'lord. Then I shoot you."
For three seconds the scene held motionless. Then Comishvor placed the container back on the shelf.
"Very well, Edwin," he said. "But I will not forget this."
"Get over to the seat there, M'lord. Sit down."
Comishvor obeyed, a half smile on his lips. "What are you going to do, Edwin? Hold a blaster on me for the rest of this eternal trip?" His smile broadened. "You used to wonder, did you not, why I never allowed you to carry a blaster. Now you know. You were too foolish to know how to manage one intelligently."
Edwin made no comment. He gestured with the weapon again. "Sit down."
Comishvor sat, mocking smile still on his lips. "You are a Terran, my little psychic. Your strength and endurance are far inferior to mine. Do you not see that ultimately you must lose? Put the blaster down now and beg my pardon, and I shall forget your misguided foolishness."
Ellie was suddenly beside him, facing the Jilectan, small body quivering with indignation. "Shut up!" she shrilled. "Mr. White might not be as strong as you, but he's not alone, either!"
"Ellie's right." Stephen had moved over beside his sister.
"You seem to forget, M'lord..." It was Loreen, her voice quiet but clear and firm as she also moved to stand beside her children, "that Terrans have a way of sticking together in a crisis. There are five of us and one of you. You're stronger than any two of us, but do you think you can handle all five of us?"
For an instant Comishvor's eyes wavered. Then he smiled again. "If necessary," he said.
A momentary silence. Then Stephen cleared his throat. "Mr. White?"
"Yes?"
"Can I make a suggestion?"
"Go ahead."
"It's pretty clear to me that we can't trust M'lord to obey the rules. And, since these are emergency conditions, I suggest that we're either going to have to kill him or somehow fix it so he can't harm us or take our food."
There was a brief silence. Then Loreen spoke.
"I agree with Stephen. If he's free, there's no telling what he'll do. He might kill us all, now that we've defied him."
White nodded reluctantly. "I'm afraid you're right. Stephen, get some rope and tie him to that chair. Tie him tight. He's a weak telekinetic."
Stephen opened a compartment, removed the rope, and approached the Jilectan.
Comishvor glared at him. "You will not touch me, Terran."
"If you move, M'lord," Loreen said, softly, "I'll shoot you."
Stephen bound the Jilectan tightly to the chair, careful not to look at his face, then straightened up, frowning in thought. "Mr. White, this isn't safe. If he gets loose while we're asleep or occupied by something else..."
White glanced briefly at the boy. "So, what do you suggest we do, Steph? Do we kill him?"
"I think it's the only safe way to handle this, sir. And we can't afford mistakes."
Edwin swallowed. "Could you do it?"
Stephen considered a moment, eyeing the alien who sat facing them, that mocking half-smile still on his features. He looked at White. He was beginning to admire this man, and to love him as the father he'd never really had. Comishvor had held Edwin White as a slave for sixteen years. The Jilectan had fully intended to take the man and Ellie back, but Stephen was to be left behind, tearing the family ruthlessly apart. And the so-and-so had used an infant to blackmail White into submission. Stephen looked at Jack, wide-eyed, standing against the bulkhead, his gaze on the deck at his feet--little Jack, cocky and independent, unless Comishvor was present.
Stephen turned back to Mr. White. "Yes, I think I could, sir."
Comishvor's face changed.
"Perhaps we should take a vote," Loreen suggested in a neutral voice, her gaze on her husband.
He nodded. "All right. Stephen, we know your recommendation. Ellie?"
The little girl looked distressed. "I say we just keep him tied up good and tight and watch him," she said.
"Loreen?"
"I agree with my son. We should kill him. He's too dangerous to keep alive. How about you, Edwin?"
"I..." The man's eyes wavered abruptly. "I say we keep him tied--at least for now. There are enough of us to watch him, and if the situation becomes more critical, we can always kill him if he's restrained." He drew a deep breath and glanced over at Jack, who still stood beside the bulkhead, eyes lowered. "Jack, you're the deciding vote."
Jack, Stephen thought, resignedly. He'd vote to spare the trenchcrawler, of course. He was obviously under the Jil's thumb still, in spite of the change in circumstances, and besides, he was an empath.
There was a long silence, before Jack replied, his voice so low that Stephen could hardly hear it. "I'm with Stephen and Mrs. White."
Stephen knew a moment of blank surprise.
"You vote to kill him?"
"Yes." The boy's voice was still almost inaudible, but his face came up, the expression on it hard. "We're nothin' but animals to him. If we get in the way he'll kill us--all of us. We can't trust him. He's let us know that, for sure. He still wants t'be the boss, an' he's strong enough an' quick enough t'do it... if we let him. The only safe Jil is a dead Jil."
Comishvor stared at the boy, unbelieving. "I protected you! You ungrateful Terran ... psychic! Lady Gootishville would have killed you if not for me!"
The boy looked at the deck again. "You kept her from killin' me 'cause if she had you wouldn't'a had any Terran psychic t'help you. You let her do anythin' else she wanted, an' I seem t'remember a few times you hit me, yourself, M'lord."
"But I..."
"I think that's enough, don't you?" Loreen spoke softly to Edwin. "We have our vote."
"Wait!" Comishvor stared, unbelieving, at the Terrans confronting him. "You would allow this boy to kill me in cold blood, Edwin?"
Ed looked away. "Stephen, I suggest you get it over with quickly."
"If you don't want to do it, son," Loreen said, "I'll do it for you."
"Wait!" The Jilectan turned frantically to Jack, then back to Ed. "Listen, my psychics! My shields are down, you know I am speaking the truth. I give you my sacred word as a Jilectan that I will abide by the rules set by you, Edwin, as long as this trip lasts. I will take no supplies that are not allotted to me, and will not harm any Terran aboard this ship. I swear this, my psychics, upon my sacred word as a Jilectan."
Stephen laughed and drew the blaster from his belt. "I don't believe you, M'lord, and I don't think Jack and Edwin do, either."
"I've heard too many promises during my life made by someone in your position," Loreen said, and Stephen knew she was thinking of Cecil. "My vote stands."
"He's telling the truth," Ellie said, her voice distressed.
"Now he is," Loreen said, coldly. "But he may change his mind once he begins to get hungry."
"Get Ellie out of here, Mom," Stephen said. "I'll handle it."
"I'm sorry, M'lord," Jack said. "I know you mean it... now. But I've been with you too long. As soon as you have the chance, your promise will be conveniently forgotten."
"I have two wives!" the Jilectan protested. "And a daughter! You would orphan my child, Edwin?"
"You would have killed Cory's child, M'lord!"
"Not true! I never meant to harm her!"
"You would take her food--if we let you!"
"I was wrong! Edwin, your friend Cory, was very fond of My Lady Frishville. Would you grieve her so, by allowing this boy to..."
"Shut up!" Stephen snapped. "Quit playing on his feelings! He's working on you Mr. White, 'cause you're a empath. Don't listen to him... and besides..." He turned back to Comishvor. "It doesn't matter. Lady Frishville's dead. Mom shot her."
"No, Stephen," Edwin corrected, sadly. "That wasn't Frishville. It was his other wife, Gootishville."
Comishvor's eyes snapped from Stephen to Ed. "What is this? Gootishville is dead?"
"I killed her, M'lord," Loreen said, quietly. "She was shooting at my husband."
"She is truly dead? Can it be true?"
"You don't seem very upset about it," Stephen observed, dryly.
"I am not. I must confess it. Dear lady, you have done me a great service."
"He didn't like her very much," Edwin said, quietly.
The Jilectan turned on him again. "Edwin, I confess, I have underestimated both you and your woman. Now, that I have everything to live for, and that odious Lady no longer stands between me and happiness, I earnestly request that you reconsider." His eyes went to Stephen, then to Loreen, then to Jack. "Do not take my life."
Stephen swallowed, his determination wavering. It was one thing to kill a haughty, cold, imperious being, and quite another to kill that same being who is confessing its wrongs and pleading for its life.
But he was given no opportunity to decide, for, at that moment, with a jolt that hurled them all to the deck, the ship converted to sublight.
**********
Chapter 50
Karl Warren watched as Cory examined the huge star map before them. Around them were dozens of star maps, depicting tens of thousands of different suns and their systems. In the doorway to the Astrogation Center Alan Westover stood, and with him the psychic trainer, Leroy Burke.
"Concentrate," Burke said, softly. "Let your mind go completely blank and let the systems come to you."
Cory's eyes closed. Karl waited, watching him. Alan Westover had theorized that, because Cory had a partner aboard the missing ship, his chances would be improved for finding it with clairvoyance. Cory was a strong clairvoyant, stronger, when tested, than Karl.
The young man frowned, his eyes closed. He reached sideways suddenly, groping. The group within the room stood motionless, waiting. Cory touched one of the star maps, paused, then slid his finger slowly upwards to rest in a remote area showing the soft grey shading that indicated it was unexplored.
"Somewhere in this section," he said.
Leroy Burke stepped forward to examine the area. "The Jorgeen sector," he said. "Largely unknown. That star you're pointing to, Cory--is that where they are?"
"No...I don't think so. It might be...maybe."
Burke sighed and examined the chart. "There's at least a thousand possible systems in that area--probably more. It's so remote, and since it's unexplored, we'd have a horrendous amount of searching to do. Still, it's a start."
"They haven't shown up," Cory said, slowly. "We know now for certain that something went wrong. We've got to go find them, sir!"
"We may not be able to," Burke said, unhappily. "But we'll try. We'll send ships to that area--with psychics aboard. You for one, Lieutenant Livingston."
"How about me?" Karl asked, quickly.
"We'll put you both on separate ships, I think, and have you both look. Who knows? It's a big galaxy, but we might turn up something."
"When do we start?"
"As soon as we can get the ships ready."
Mark Linley appeared in the doorway. "Buddy? Ah, there you are. Ruby told me you were here. C'mon. Kaley wants us."
"Oh. Okay." Alan went to the door, lifting a hand to the occupants of the room. "See you soon."
Burke was studying the star maps again. He gestured to Karl. "Cadet Warren, do you have any feelings as to where your family might be? Use the techniques I taught you."
"Uh..." Karl concentrated on the map, trying to do what Cory had done. He could feel nothing. "I'm sorry, sir. It's a big blank."
"Concentrate."
Karl tried without avail. "I'm sorry, sir," he repeated, feeling like a failure. "There's nothing at all..."
"Well, it doesn't matter. Don't feel bad, my boy. Your major talents lie in other areas--not in long range clairvoyance. We're pretty sure they must be in the Jorgeen sector, and, if what Cory says is accurate, somewhere in the central section..." He glanced around as Marilyn Burke appeared in the doorway. "Yes, honey?"
"Karl's due for his flying lesson. I came to go with him."
"Go ahead," Burke said. "I hear you're getting pretty good, son."
"He's great!" Marilyn told him. "He's a natural--like me!"
"But not as modest," Leroy said, laughing.
Marilyn glanced under her lashes at him. "You ready, Karl?"
"Sure."
**********
"We're there!" Stephen scrambled to his feet and ran to the control room. Ellie and Jack were right behind him.
The screen above the control panel showed nothing but stars at first. Then a planetary body drifted onto the screen. Jack shouldered past him and bent over the comp. "We're on the fringes of a star system," he announced. "Just about a hundred thousand kilometers beyond the orbit of the final planet. There's fourteen of 'em showin' up here, an' an asteroid belt... no, two asteroid belts. Man oh man! We made it! Steph, we made it!"
"Yeah!" Stephen also bent over the board. "What's the system? Does it say?"
"No." Jack pressed another button, frowning at the unresponsive screen, "but this poor comp's so messed up, I ain't sure o' nothin'."
"What is it, kids?" came White's voice from the passenger cabin.
"We're in a star system!" Ellie shrilled. "We aren't sure where!"
"Watch the Jil!" Stephen yelled.
"We are!"
Jack was still studying the screen and doing things to the controls. "I got it. The fourth planet's in the comfort zone. It's smaller'n Shallock. Can't pick up much else yet. We ain't close enough." He fiddled with the computer settings. "Looks like it's still workin' pretty good so far. Guess it'll take us in."
The planet on the screens slid past, revealing a swirling, gaseous surface and half a dozen orbiting moons. Then, for ninety minutes there was nothing save the distant glow of the system's star, bright and inviting against the darkness.
"We've passed the thirteenth planet's orbit," Jack said. "The twelfth is in range, way over there. Look! It has rings!"
It surely did, Stephen saw--a glowing rainbow swirl of rings, magnificent against the blackness. It drifted off the screen and again the system's star dominated the viewer. Hours passed. They crossed the orbits of the next six planets without seeing the bodies, themselves--too far away, Jack informed him absently. "Here comes the second asteroid belt now, though. Look, Ellie! Look, Steph!"
Stephen looked and saw the misty haze of the belt. Then it, too, vanished. Another thirty minutes passed.
"A double planet! Look!" Ellie pointed at the screen, her voice soft with wonder and Stephen saw that they were indeed passing two bodies circling one another. They were almost the same size, but one glowed a rusty red shade while the other was an icy blue and showed evidence, even from this distance, of volcanic action--reddish smears dominated half a dozen areas on its surface.
Stephen stared as it swelled in the screen, then slid past and out of sight. "Man! Some real interesting planets in this bunch. I wonder where we are."
"Me too."
As they neared the inner planets, the distances were becoming less. It was barely twenty minutes before Jack pointed. "Look. There's our planet ahead!"
Stephen leaned forward, staring. It was a small planet, all right, and not only in relation to Shallock. Stephen had been interested in the origin of his species, and had studied in school the tiny planet of Terra where his race had been born. This planet was even smaller than Terra--perhaps only two-thirds its size. One small moon swung into view as they watched and moved rapidly across the screen.
Jack was examining the computer readout. "Oxy-nitrogen atmosphere." He pressed another button. "Blast! Can't get it!"
"Get what?"
"A readin' on the gravity...wait...got it! Point seven o' Shallock's. It must be pretty dense for its size."
That made it approximately 0.9 of Terra's, Stephen thought. "What else?"
"Can't get nothin' else yet. This bloody comp..." He paused, then patted the keyboard in an oddly gentle manner. "Sorry, baby. I know you're doin' your best."
"Any life showing up?" Ellie asked, trying to peer over the boy's shoulder.
"Told you, I can't see nothin' else."
"If there isn't," said Stephen, "We're just as dead as we are up here."
"There's life," Jack said.
"You picking up something?"
"No. But there's life down there. I'm sure o' that much."
"How?"
He shrugged, glancing up at Ellie and grinned. "Am I right, El?"
She nodded, looking not at all worried.
"How are the repulsers responding?" Stephen tried to quell his annoyance at the obvious camaraderie between the two psychics, that excluded him.
"Hmmm." Jack pressed a button. "They're respondin', sort of. I dunno what'll happen if we put any strain on 'em, though." He spoke to Ellie. "Better get Mr. White."
She nodded and went back into the passenger compartment. Stephen followed her, glancing at the Jilectan, still bound to the chair. White stood before him, one hand resting lightly on the blaster which protruded ridiculously from his belt.
"Jack needs help with the landing," Ellie told White.
"Okay. Watch M'lord, Stephen, and both of you strap in."
They obeyed. Stephen sat beside his mother, Ellie on her other side. Comishvor surveyed him expressionlessly. "Where are we, Stephen?"
"I don't know," Stephen told him stiffly. "It's an Earth-type planet. We can breathe down there and the gravity's okay, but we don't know anything else yet."
"Is it inhabited?"
"The comp wouldn't tell us."
"Are there life forms?"
"I just said, the comp wouldn't tell us, Jil!"
"Stephen," Loreen said, quietly, "Lord Comishvor is our prisoner at the moment. You don't have to like him, but you will be civil to him."
Stephen bit back an instinctive protest. "Yes, Mom," he said. "Sorry, M'lord."
Comishvor raised an eyebrow at him. "Can you give me statistics on the planet, Stephen? What is the system like?"
"Fourteen planets--fifteen if you count the double one. There are two asteroid belts, and one of the planets has a spectacular set of rings." Stephen couldn't get the stiffness out of his voice, and didn't really care. An hour ago he'd been on the verge of killing this arrogant, contemptuous being. "The planet we're landing on has one small satellite."
"There's life down there, too," Ellie informed them, complacently.
The Jilectan glanced quickly at her. "You sensed it, psychic?"
She nodded. "So did Jack."
"Any people?"
A shrug. "I don't know about that. Maybe."
"We're hitting the pull," White's voice said from the control room. "Everyone strapped in?"
"Yes, Edwin," Loreen replied, calmly.
Stephen slid the blaster into his belt and sat still, clutching the handholds on the chair. A new sound intruded on his senses--the uneven, ragged throb of the repulsers. Of course. White was applying them to slow their descent. The gravity of the planet was pulling them in.
He became gradually conscious of a thin whine. The sound grew slowly louder. Air. They were striking the atmosphere.
The whine became louder and louder as they dropped deeper into the planet's envelope of air and Stephen put his hands over his ears. The uneven throb of the repulsers caught abruptly. The ship jolted hard, bringing a shrill gasp from Ellie.
The throb resumed, more ragged than ever, then caught a second time. The squeal of air against the hull grew louder. The repulsers coughed, sputtered and went silent.
**********
(tbc)
