My sister-in-law is in town, and we're going to Coronado to see her and don't expect to be back until after midnight, so I'm posting this part now.
Slave Race: 37/?
by Nan Smith and Linda Garrick
**********
Chapter 55
Patrolman Sam Ruffard hurried along behind the Jilectan, carrying Karl Warren. The boy's face was averted, his eyes shut, his mouth set.
Ruffard tried to harden his heart. The boy had been using him, playing on his sympathies, trying to change his loyalties. Sam need have no guilt feelings about his role. Chances were good that he would be promoted again when he returned the boy to Halthzor. His future was assured.
So, why did he feel so miserable? True, Karl had confessed his trickery, but so what? It was the only decent thing to do under the circumstances.
The boy's face hovered before his eyes, no matter where he looked. Ruffard tried to ignore it without success. What could he do to help the kid? There had to be something.
Lord Snarthvar gave a muted exclamation and stopped dead, staring. Ruffard followed his gaze, but only leafy shrubbery met his eyes. Lord Snarthvar's mouth dropped open, he made a queer, yearning sound, and suddenly bolted forward, his arms outstretched.
The ground beneath the Jilectan's feet gave and he plunged downward into quicksand.
He gave a hoarse, startled scream as the stuff mushroomed up around him. It was, Ruffard saw, very similar to the pit he, himself, had fallen into earlier. With a shout of alarm, Karl still clutched against him, he jumped forward.
And caught his foot on a projecting root, tripping and falling hard. Karl flew from his grasp and plunged into the quicksand beside the Jilectan.
The disaster had occurred so suddenly that Ruffard had had no time to collect his thoughts. Now he scrambled upright, gasping, and staggered forward.
The ground beneath his own feet started to sink and he retreated quickly, swearing under his breath. The Jilectan was shrieking in panic and reaching for Karl, who was trying to struggle away from him in the clinging quicksand, his efforts doubly hampered by the fact that his hands were still fastened behind him. Both Terran and Jilectan were sinking rapidly. Ruffard reached frantically for the boy, clutching at roots on the bank to anchor himself, leaned far out, and caught him by the loose uniform top.
Snarthvar's hands descended on Karl's shoulders. Howling with terror, the Jilectan thrust downward, trying to climb on top of the boy. Karl, with a strangled cry, was forced downward into the quicksand. Ruffard's grip was torn free.
"M'lord, let him go! Get off of him!" Ruffard reached again, frantically, then recoiled quickly as Snarthvar, now within reach, made a panicky grab for him. If the Jilectan caught him, Sam knew he would be pulled in with the ones he was trying to rescue. Karl sank deeper into the mire as the Jilectan's grab for Ruffard failed. The boy's eyes and nose vanished beneath the surface.
Ruffard, himself, knew a moment of panic. Karl mustn't die! Moving completely on instinct, he drew his blaster, flipped it to stun and fired at the Jilectan. Snarthvar gave a strangled grunt and half fell sideways. Ruffard fired a second time, then, clutching the roots again, reached over, caught Karl by the shirt, and pulled. Karl came up, mouth wide open and gasping for air. Ruffard pulled him toward the shore, still gripping his anchor of roots with one hand.
But Jilectans were relatively insensitive to stunner fire, and Snarthvar had not been knocked unconscious by the bolts, as a Terran certainly would have been. The Jilectan's hand reached out with amazing speed, caught the boy's legs and pulled as Snarthvar tried to use Karl as a rope to drag himself from the quicksand.
Ruffard held on, but was yanked forward by the Jilectan's weight. Karl cried out in pain and fear. Sam clutched the tree roots desperately, feeling them give slightly. His shoulder popped with the strain.
"M'lord!" he gasped. "Let the boy go! You'll kill him!"
"As I shall kill you, Terran worm! I shall break your neck with my bare hands! Get me out of here! Get me out at once!"
Karl emitted a gasping cry through clenched teeth. The Jilectan pulled harder. Sam felt his hand slipping.
There was the crack of a blaster, and, in utter amazement, Sam saw the Jilectan dropping backward, his burned hair vanishing beneath the surface of the quicksand. Disbelieving, Sam stared at the blaster in his own hand. His finger was on the firing stud. He had shot Lord Snarthvar, and couldn't even remember pressing the trigger.
"You killed him!" Karl whispered in an awed tone.
Sam couldn't answer. He lifted Karl from the quicksand pool, set him down, then stared disbelieving at the now still surface. No sign remained of the Jilectan. He had vanished into the terrible quicksand pool, leaving behind no trace.
Karl sat down hard on the ground, staring at Ruffard in disbelief. Ruffard swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Man!" His voice was hoarse and he cleared his throat. "Man!" he repeated. "I guess that about does it."
"You killed him!" Karl whispered again, as though unable to comprehend what he had witnessed. "Sam! You're a Jil-killer!"
"Oh man!" Ruffard sat down hard on the ground beside his prisoner.
"What are you going to do?"
"I dunno." Sam tried to clear his thoughts. Yes, he had killed a Jil, but Lord Halthzor had said he could to protect Karl...but that was before, when the assignment had been crystal clear, and uncluttered by the emotions he now felt. Karl had been just a Jil prisoner then--a psychic like hundreds of others. Now everything had changed. Sam knew why he had shot the Jilectan. It had been to save Karl from death--not for Halthzor's use, but because little Karl's death would have been devastating to Sam. And when Halthzor probed him, he would know it, too.
"Please, Sam..." The boy's whisper cut into his thoughts. "Please don't give me back to Halthzor! I won't be able to cooperate this time, like I did before. I belong to the Underground now. I'll have to keep my shielding up, no matter what, and the first chance I get, I'll end my life. I swear, Sam, I'll do it."
Ruffard stared at the boy. "I won't let you kill yourself."
Karl's gaze was level and unflinching. "I'm the psychic, Sam. We're out here alone. Are you certain you can stop me?"
Ruffard started to speak, then shut up. Of course he wasn't sure. The kid was a wizard. He had powers beyond Sam's comprehension. Of course, he could be stunned and carried in, but what then? Ruffard grimaced at the thoughts of what would happen then. Halthzor would try to force the boy to lower his shielding. Karl would refuse. Halthzor would torture him. Karl would still refuse. Wasn't there any way out of this mess?
"Halthzor will know why you killed Snarthvar," Karl said, quietly. "How do you think he's going to feel about it?"
"Shut up. Quit readin' my mind!" Sam chewed his knuckle, trying to think clearly.
"Do you think he'll trust you, knowing how you feel?" Again the boy's voice cut into his thoughts. "A patrolman who killed a Jil, not because he was obeying orders, but because the Terran he was saving was more important to him than the Jil? Things have changed, Mr. Ruffard."
"I said shut up!"
A fractional pause. Ruffard chewed the knuckle harder. What the boy said was true. Halthzor might not kill him, but on the other hand, he was going to see Ruffard's motives behind the killing, probably with more clarity than Ruffard, himself, saw them. Would he again be promoted to Lieutenant and given an honorary post to guard the boy? No. As Karl said, things had altered drastically since then.
"And what about Snarthvar's kin?" Again the boy's voice intruded on his thoughts. "If Halthzor won't protect you from them, how long do you think you'll survive, now that you've killed the family's first son?"
Ruffard hadn't even considered that. "Halthzor's hangnails! You're right! Damn you, kid! Quit readin' me! I got enough troubles!"
"Please, Sam, let me take you to our base."
Ruffard stared at the boy, mind numb. "What base?"
"The Underground base--the one the folks here moved to when they found out you were coming. Please, Sam?"
"You know where the place is, kid?"
"Yes, of course."
"And you'd take me there?"
"If you change sides, I will. You'd be an officer, Sam. If you'd been in the Underground, you'd never have been demoted for something beyond your control. You were the only one who caught on that something was wrong. You were the one who gave the alarm, and yet, you were the one who took all the blame!"
"I was in charge."
"You were dealing with the Terran Underground, Sam. Psychics! One of them was Alan Westover, himself. How many patrolmen have been fooled by Westover?"
Sam felt his resolution weakening. "A helluva lot."
"Right! You were just one more, but you caught on! You were great, and what did you get in payment? A slap in the mouth!"
"Westover was there? No kiddin'?"
"He arrived with the food cart. He bamboozled the videocamera with telekinesis and came to get me out. No one caught on."
"That was Alan Westover pushing the food cart--the one who told me Ch'Grak had gotten drunk?"
"Yes. He was reading your mind, and picked up everything he needed to make his story sound convincing."
"Son of a...! That bloody little..."
"But things went wrong. I was trying to get away and I bashed him when he came in. The guy in the food cart who came along to help him had to put on his wig and take his place--he was a redhead, if you'll remember?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"And Kurt McDougal had to push the food cart out, after fixing up the bed with his own wig to make it look like I was sleeping. He put on Westover's wig and pushed the cart out."
"Smart. An' my guards didn't notice nothin'."
"No. I guess all they saw was the red hair. But you did notice, Sam."
"Yeah. He looked different--bigger an' more muscular."
"You were the only one who did, Sam! You gave the alarm, and now you're taking the blame. Where's the justice in that?"
"There ain't none."
"But the Underground's different. They're great people. Look how Colonel Linley managed to evacuate everyone from the base, practically under the noses of the Patrol. There are a lot of patrolmen in the Underground, Sam, and they're happy they deserted the Patrol. I've met half a dozen, and every one--every *one*--said there's no way he'd go back even if he could! They know which side is going to win this thing, Sam. The Jils are going to lose. Which side do you want to be on in the end?"
"Kid...I dunno." Sam was wavering. To give up the security of the Patrol to join an outlaw organization, to be automatically condemned to death if he was ever caught...and yet, what choice was there now? He had a death sentence on his head already! He had killed a Jilectan.
"You'd like the Underground, Sam. I promise!" Karl's voice was soft and coaxing. "They're great people, and I was telling the truth about the women. They're beautiful, Sam--every type you can imagine."
"You're kiddin'! Women in the armed forces?"
"Why not? There are female psychics, too, you know. You should see Holly Stevens! She has gorgeous red hair and blue eyes, and what a shape! You have to see her to believe her. She was kind of stuck on Major Bronson, but Bronson's got him a steady girlfriend, now, so Holly's playing the field..."
Sam shook his head. "This is impossible. I can't be thinkin' this way!"
Karl fell silent, watching him. Sam felt his will collapse. There was nothing else to do. He would save Karl and join the Terran Underground. He would follow in the footsteps of Strike Commander Linley, Strike Commander Griffen, Subcommander Bronson, and dozens of others. "Turn around."
Karl obeyed. Sam drew the keys from his belt, unfastened the restrainers from the boy's wrists and clipped them to his belt. "There you go."
Karl turned around again, rubbing his wrists and blinking hard. He cleared his throat. "Thanks, Sam." His voice sounded odd. "Thanks a lot."
"Not yet. First we gotta get off this planet, an' that's gonna be tough. We don't know if that Jil told other 'trols where he was goin'. If he did, there's gonna be search parties out lookin' for us."
"Are there other Jils back at the base, Sam?"
"I don't know. None that I've heard of, but Revolthvor's supposed to be here in about..." He consulted his chronometer. "In about three point six hours."
"Oh great!"
"Yeah, an' he probably won't come alone, neither. He'll bring every researcher an' Terran psychic psychologist he can get his creepy hands on."
Karl grinned unexpectedly. "I like that."
"Like what?"
"Creepy hands."
Ruffard chuckled. "Yeah. Jils' fingers always give me the creeps."
"Their fingers aren't the only thing that gives me the creeps."
"I know whatcha mean. Okay, buddy, what's the plan?"
Karl thought a moment. "How many ships are here?"
"Uh...a lot. All kinds, too--scouts an' cruisers both."
"Well, I think a scout would be less conspicuous to steal, don't you? Are there people on all of them?"
"Probably."
"Hmmm." Karl frowned in thought. "Well, remember, I'm an illusionist."
"You're a what?"
"An illusionist. I can make people see things that aren't there. That'll help."
Sam stared at him. "I've never heard of that."
"It's true, though--kind of a rare talent I'm told, and one the Jils don't know about. Look, Sam."
Sam nearly jumped out of his skin. Standing before him was a beautiful young woman, tiny, but well-rounded, her red hair falling in a flowing curtain over her shoulders and down her back. She wore a soft, clinging suit of pale green chiffon, cut low at the neck. Her lips smiled at him invitingly and she extended a white, slender hand.
Then, just as suddenly as she had appeared, she was gone.
"Halthzor's wart!" Sam gaped at the place where she had been.
Karl was grinning at him. "That's Holly Stevens. What did I tell you about her?"
"Wow! Man, I ain't never seen nothin' s'real in m'life! She really lives at the base?"
"She sure does."
"Man! How do you do that? All of a sudden she was just standin' there..."
Karl shrugged. "I don't know how I do it. I just sort of locate your mind and form the image. I can make anybody see anything I want, but only one person at a time."
Suspicion dawned. "That's why ol' Snarthvar went chargin' forward like that! You made him see somethin' that wasn't there!"
Karl nodded.
"What? What did he see?"
"His first Lady."
"How did you know what she looked like?"
"He was thinking about her, and he wasn't shielded. It wasn't too hard."
"Man!"
"Thank you. I guess I can do it when we steal a scout, don't you think?"
"Sure. Let's move on, and we'll figure out a plan while we're walkin'."
Karl glanced down at his splinted leg. "Uh..."
"While I'm walkin' an' you're ridin'. Up you go." Sam hoisted the boy to his back once more. He was thinking hard now, the shock of what he had done beginning to wear off. "What other powers do you have, Karl?"
"Well, I can short out electrical circuits--like I did with the car's antigrav and crashguard systems, and the coms."
"Nice talent, but I don't think it'll do us much good in stealin' a ship. What else?"
"I'm a linguist."
"Yeah, I remember that. Are you a telekinetic?"
"No."
"Hmmm...too bad. That might come in useful soon. What else do you have?"
"Well, I'm a telepath and a clairvoyant, and an empath."
"Anythin' else?"
"I don't think so."
"I think it'll do. The main thing is, we gotta arrive before the Jils do, an' we're gonna hafta cause some kind o' diversion to get you into a scout without bein' noticed. Scouts generally carry a crew of six. If we can take 'em by surprise we ought'a be able t'get away before an alarm's given."
"Okay," Karl said. "You know the layout. Just tell me what to do."
Sam hoisted him higher on his back and consulted a small device attached to the chronometer on his wrist. "We got about eight more kilometers t'go, kid. I'm gonna trot. Hold on tight."
"Yessir."
It took them a little more than two hours to cover the distance to the base. When they had less than a kilometer to go, Karl's voice brought Sam to a sudden halt. "Yeah?" Sam panted.
"There's a quicksand pit about four meters in front of you."
"I don't see it."
"It's there. Believe me."
Sam did. "Which way do I go?"
"Turn sharp right."
Sam obeyed, skirting the unseen quicksand pit.
Ten minutes later they reached the end of the forest. Sam eased his burden to the ground, and together they peered out of the underbrush at the remains of the Underground settlement.
Dawn was just breaking, the eastern horizon glowing red and orange behind a layer of clouds. A few tiny shapes moved leisurely between the docked ships. The air smelled of coffee.
A faint roaring became audible. Ruffard glanced up.
A ship was descending through the clear, still air. The roaring grew gradually louder, and abruptly a speaker boomed from somewhere. "All units, stand ready. M'lord Snoothvor is arriving. All units into full uniform to welcome His Lordship! On the double!"
"Snoothvor!" Sam swore under his breath. "He wasn't supposed to get here until this afternoon! They said he was havin' trouble gettin' transport."
"Who is he?" Karl asked.
"Snarthvar's first cousin. Their fathers were full brothers, I'm told...same Lord, same Lady."
"I guess that makes them pretty close--Snarthvar and Snoothvor, I mean?"
"About as close as they can get without bein' brothers. No doubt Snoothvor's gonna wanna see his dear cousin just as soon as he can." He cussed again. "We're gonna hafta move."
Patrolmen were swarming from the docked ships as the arriving vessel descended to the landing field and the roar of the repulsers died.
"Maybe we should wait," Karl whispered. "I'll be awfully conspicuous if you come out there right now, carrying me. Why don't you just go on--play your part, and I'll hole up here and wait for you."
"No." Sam shook his head forcefully. "Once they realize Snarthvar's missin' they'll start scourin' the woods for him. An' then Revolthvor'll arrive an' things'll get even hotter. Now's the best chance we'll get. Lemme see here..."
Sam contemplated the airfield for a moment. "Stay here. I'm gonna go get an aircar an' bring it back. That way no one'll see you. We'll head for the nearest scout."
Karl nodded. "Be careful, Sam."
"I will." Sam flashed him a grin. "Don't move, squirt."
He started to stand up, then paused as he felt a hand catch his wrist. "Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks a lot. I just want you to know...well...thanks. I know what you've given up for me, and I can't ever pay you back, but..."
"Maybe Holly'll do it for you." Sam winked at him, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm countin' on that li'l dame bein' all you said she is, kid."
The boy's smile was strained. "She is."
Sam chuckled. "Back in a minute."
With another quick look around, Ruffard stood up, stepped from concealment, and sprinted across the field toward the docked ships.
**********
"Ellie!" Stephen whispered his sister's name in horror. "Holy smoke, now what do we do?"
Lord Comishvor's hand closed about his upper arm, gripping with numbing strength. "Do not stare at her, Stephen! You will alert our captors."
Stephen looked quickly away from his sister and allowed his eyes to stray toward their two Jilectan guards. The two primitives stood in a relaxed posture, glancing occasionally at their prisoners. Lord Comishvor was right, of course. To stare at Ellie would be to direct their captors straight to her.
"Jack!" Comishvor whispered, "release your shielding briefly and speak to Ellie. Tell her to remain in concealment and to keep her shielding up tightly."
"The...the Jils, sir..."
"They are not likely to detect you, Jack. It is quite difficult for a Jilectan to hear Terran telepathic communication unless the Jilectan is actively scanning."
Jack looked scared, but Stephen saw him close his eyes and concentrate. A moment later he opened them again. "She can't hear me, sir. Her shields are up."
"Here she comes!" Stephen whispered.
Ellie was skirting the clearing, trying to maneuver into a position closer to the prisoners. She had a blaster, Stephen saw, clutched in her hand, and her blue eyes were round with astonishment at the sight of their guards.
When she had reached the closest possible point among the trees, she stopped again, hesitated, then came softly forward, concealing herself behind huts, flitting from one to the next in utter silence. Stephen watched her covertly and in growing dismay. There was no way she could free them without being seen by one of their guards.
Ellie reached the chief's tent, still moving in utter silence, and slipped around it, concealing herself behind the cage in which the prisoners were confined. She had discarded her bright yellow hood, Stephen saw, and her soft brown leggings and mottled shirt were good camouflage. His young sister, he realized, wasn't as stupid as he had assumed.
Now she was easing herself around the side of the cage, attention on their guards. The two were staring straight ahead and had not glanced toward the prisoners for some minutes.
Ellie moved suddenly with a quick, light step, rounding the cage to the door. She reached up, her fingers flying, and, in a twinkling, the cord binding the cage was untied. Then, just as quickly, she was concealed behind the enclosure again, and their guards were none the wiser.
Stephen let out his breath. He glanced at Comishvor, who met his eyes and grinned.
"You Terrans!" he whispered. "What fools my people are to make you their enemies!"
He crawled forward toward the door and started to apply gentle pressure.
"Wait, sir!" Jack whispered.
Comishvor stopped. "What is it?"
Jack didn't answer, nor did he need to. There was a sudden shout and Jilectans burst from the tents around them as though on cue. Ellie cowered down as the aliens rushed toward the prisoners with cries of triumph and delight. One of them reached up to unfasten the thong which had bound the door, then stopped as he realized the bindings were already loosened. The others paused for an instant, too. The leader spoke scathingly to the appalled guards, who protested and also came toward the cage, examining the ropes incredulously. Then one of the onlookers raised a shout.
Ellie had been seen.
The little girl made no sound as they dragged her from her concealment behind the cage. The blaster was still clutched in her tiny hand, but she made no move to use it--and very sensible of her, thought Stephen. If she killed one of their captors, it might well mean death for all of them.
He waited in an agony of fear for his sister. She faced her captors, terror mirrored in her eyes. Jack clutched the bars.
"Don't kneel, Ellie!" he whispered. "Stand up straight and try not t'look scared!"
She gave no indication that she had heard, but Stephen knew she had, for her body slowly straightened up and he saw her swallow hard, then lift her head to face her captors. The Jilectan leader stepped forward, surveying her impassively. One large hand fingered her yellow curls. He glanced toward the captives in the cage.
"Ah choola!" he stated. "Vinx."
"What'd he say, M'lord?" Stephen whispered to Comishvor.
"Something about her hair," returned the pirate. "He is remarking on the color. Vinx--it means golden or yellow."
"He said somethin' about our hair, too," whispered Jack. "Remember? What's this thing they have about hair?"
The Jilectan leader produced a stone knife. Stephen heard Ellie's sharp intake of breath as the big alien separated a lock of her hair, drew it up and cut it off with the instrument.
"What th'hell's he doin'?" Jack whispered.
The Jilectan held up the lock of hair and closed his eyes. The hair smoked and shriveled, fire running rapidly along the severed strands. At the same instant the ground beneath their feet jolted hard and there was a muffled boom in the distance. Stephen glanced sharply towards it, but could see nothing.
The Jilectan let the shriveled strands fall and stepped back from Ellie, his eyes widening. "Har voo!" he mouthed, and turned suddenly in the direction from which the boom had come, dropping to his knees. The others emulated him. The chief touched his forehead to the ground five times in quick succession, then straightened up, extending his arms westward.
"What is it, sir?" Jack asked softly. "What are they doin'?"
"I would say that they are worshiping something, Jack," the pirate said, softly. "What, I do not know."
"What'd the leader guy say?"
"It is difficult to translate. I do not know the meaning of 'har', but 'voot' means divine in the current Jilectan language."
The leader rose to his feet, his arms still extended in the direction from which the booming sound had come. The ground trembled again, and the sound was repeated, although not as loud as before. The leader turned back to Ellie.
"Var-a-van?" he inquired in a low voice.
Comishvor spoke suddenly, rising his voice. "Tol-a-van! Tastern!" He dropped suddenly to his knees in the cage, genuflected toward the west, then swiveled toward Ellie, extending his arms, palm up. "Van! Mia van! Corvor!"
The girl glanced sharply toward the pirate. "What are you saying about me, Lord Comishvor?" she piped.
The Jilectans all stepped back at the sound of her voice, and the leader spoke quickly to his tribe. The cage was opened and one of the males reached in to catch Comishvor by the collar and drag him out.
Stephen hesitated, then followed as their captor stood back, clearly waiting for them. Jack followed also, staying close to his friend. Ellie ran to Stephen, who pulled her close, putting an arm around her.
The Jilectans watched the gesture, obvious surprise mirrored on their features. One of them spoke glibly to Comishvor. Their attitudes were still most unfriendly toward the pirate, Stephen noted. He swallowed hard.
Comishvor spoke haltingly in reply, gestured to Ellie, then to Jack and Stephen. The leader reached forward suddenly, caught Jack by the arms and thrust him hard against the pirate. Jack's face was shoved into Comishvor's midriff, and he stumbled, falling against his former master. He gave a cry of fear and protest, automatically recoiling and cringing back.
The leader laughed. "Curra nata!" he said harshly and slapped Comishvor hard, knocking him down. The pirate lay motionless where had fallen as the three Terrans stared in horror. One of the primitives drew a long, wicked looking knife from his belt, testing the stone blade with one long, multi-jointed thumb. He chuckled.
Ellie voiced a squeal and Jack gasped. Stephen heard his own inarticulate protest as the Jilectan advanced on the helpless pirate.
But the leader stopped the knife wielder with a quick word, glancing at the three Terrans. "Toola la navax!" he commanded. "Nata!"
Three primitives approached the Terrans. Ellie's blaster was confiscated and tossed away. One of the males lifted Stephen, perching the boy easily on one broad shoulder. Stephen twisted his head around and saw Ellie and Jack also perched on Jilectan shoulders. Comishvor was being dragged unceremoniously to his feet. Two of the primitives supported him, and Stephen saw the pirates nose and mouth were streaked with blood.
"Nata!" the leader repeated.
The Jilectans strode out of the village, carrying their burdens. The two leading Comishvor followed, and the entire camp came after. They entered the tangled jungle once more.
Stephen glanced over at Jack, who rode the shoulder of a huge, golden haired Jilectan beside him. The boy was clinging tightly to the alien's plaited hair, but the primitive didn't seem to mind. Stephen saw him glance up for an instant at his small burden, his eyes solemn, his lips drawn into a hard line.
"Where d'you suppose they're taking us?" Stephen asked. "Did you pick up anything they said?"
Jack shook his head. "Didn't sound too good for His Lordship, though."
"Sure didn't." Stephen glanced back. Ellie rode the shoulder of the Jilectan behind him--the red braided young leader who had borne Stephen to the camp. Behind the leader, Comishvor stumbled along between his two guards.
"It's my fault," Jack said, suddenly.
"Your fault!"
"Yeah. I pulled back and yelled when that guy pushed me at His Lordship. That was a test, I think, t'see if I liked him--Lord Comishvor, I mean--or not."
"But why should these guys care if we like Comishvor?"
"Don't you see? We're divine--at least, I think they're thinkin' that. They ain't sure."
Stephen reflected that Jack had observed and gleaned far more from the occurrences back at the Jilectans' camp than he had. "So, if we're divine and we don't like Comishvor, then they have the right to be nasty to him?"
"I think that's what they're thinkin'. He told 'em we were the messengers, I guess, back there in the cage when he bowed to Ellie then pointed to us. But they tested him--checkin' I guess, t'see if he was lyin'. An' he flunked the test, so now they're really p.o.'d."
"But what about us? Are we still messengers?"
"I dunno what they're thinkin' now. I don't understand their language."
"You picked up a lot more than I did, though."
"I did?" Jack shrugged. "Sorry."
"Just don't assume I know everything after this. I'm not a psychic, remember?"
Jack gave him a scared grin. Beneath their feet the ground shook and a muffled boom reached their ears. Stephen felt the Jilectan beneath him start, his muscles tensing. The boom sounded again and the shaking grew harder for a moment, then subsided.
"Divine messengers?" Ellie's voice said from behind him. "You mean like angels, like mamma talks about?"
"Yeah."
"But we aren't. Don't these guys know that angels are supposed to have wings?"
"Maybe not, El. I don't think these guys worship the same god that we do."
"You mean they've made up a god?" Ellie sounded horrified.
"Yeah, something like that."
The ground was sloping upward now and the trees were thinning. Stephen's mount showed no signs of tiring, however, nor did any of the others. The entire tribe was still following, their passage amazingly silent through the thick underbrush. None of them had spoken since the trek had begun, but they seemed to have no objection to conversation between the Terrans. Another boom sounded in the distance and the ground jolted hard. The hands of the Jilectan who carried Stephen gripped the boy's knees more tightly.
"What is that?" Ellie asked.
"A volcano, I think," Jack answered her.
A volcano! Of course! Stephen hadn't wanted to admit that he hadn't known to Jack.
"I saw one once on Shallock," Jack continued, calmly. "The big one called Xerxes. It's visible from the shoreline near Scaifen."
"I've heard of it," Ellie said. "We studied volcanoes in science last month. Mrs. Shelley says they're dangerous if you get too close."
Boom! The ground shook.
"And it sounds like we're gettin' close," Jack remarked.
Stephen glanced back again. Comishvor had recovered and was walking between his captors. Around them the trees were thinning even more and suddenly gave way to rocky ground, dotted with brush. And beyond, close enough to make Stephen's hair stand on end, was the volcano.
It didn't appear to be a very large volcano, but it was undeniably active. Smoke rose from it, dark against the cloudless blue sky, and, as they watched, a shower of glowing sparks spurted upward to fall leisurely down the sloping sides of the mountain.
"Garavara!" the Jilectan chief intoned, reverently. He sank to his knees, extending his hands toward the volcano. The other Jilectans followed his example. Stephen clung tightly to his own Jilectan's neck to keep from pitching forward as the alien knelt, bowing his face to the ground.
"Garavara!" he repeated.
"Garavara toa lan! Sora prinx!" It was the leader speaking again, and the others echoed him.
Slowly, then, the whole tribe rose to its feet and started across the rocky ground toward the volcano.
"We're heading right toward it!" Ellie's voice was shrill with alarm.
"They worship the volcano," Jack whispered. "They're takin' us right to it! M'lord had it wrong! He thought he was gonna be sacrificed to the earthquake god, but it ain't that at all! Their god is the volcano! He just speaks through the earthquakes!"
"How do you know that?"
"Uh..." Jack looked confused. "I dunno how I know. I just do. An' I'll betcha anythin' that Garavara means god in their language. Maybe it's even their god's first name."
"Garavara!" the chief echoed. He turned to Jack and fixed the boy with those electrically blue eyes. The tribe came to a halt, watching him. "Garavara!" the chief repeated. "Toa lan! Sora prinx!"
"Garavara!" Jack echoed, voice shaking slightly. "Toa lan! Sora prinx!"
The leader smiled widely and turned to continue their trek up the slope. There was much less vegetation now, and the air was warm and sultry. The sun, well past midday, beat down on the rocks.
Another hour they traveled. The volcano was alarmingly near now, and the occasional ground tremors were strong enough to make the Jilectans stagger. Sparks leaped from the volcano's mouth, sparkling brightly through the rising smoke.
Then, quite unexpectedly, Stephen's Jilectan turned sharply right and strode into a rock crevice that gradually widened into a cave. The Jilectan walking ahead concentrated and a stick in his hand flickered, smoldered, then burst into flame. Around them other torches appeared as the tribe followed the leaders into the darkness of the cavern.
The cave was about four meters high, Stephen saw, and appeared to be naturally formed out of native rock. The Jilectans filled it from wall to wall as they followed their leaders along, their feet soundless on the stone floor. It was eerie, moving along like this, surrounded by the huge crowd of Jils, all of them proceeding in complete silence.
"It's hot!" Ellie whispered.
Her soft voice sent the echoes muttering about them like ghosts. Stephen couldn't restrain a shiver. Jack glanced over at him as though sensing his discomfort. They proceeded deeper into the cave, and Stephen heard Ellie begin to sob softly. He turned around to look at her, still perched on her Jilectan's shoulder. Her face was turned upward, and the light of the torches revealed tears tracing their way down her cheeks. Her face was white, her eyes huge in the torchlight.
"Whatsa matter, El?" Jack called.
The words echoed hollowly around them.
"This place gives me the creeps." The little girl's voice trembled with repressed sobs. "This is the place they all went when everyone else was dead. They were scared and hurt and starving!" Her voice rose hysterically. "I don't like it here! I want to get out!" She twisted suddenly against the hands of the Jilectan who held her. "Let me go, please! I can't stay here! Let me go!"
The Jilectan released her, voicing a sharp question to his leader. Ellie dropped to the cavern floor and began to run blindly back the way they had come, stumbling on the scattered rocks. The leader shouted something and one of the males caught here, restraining her gently but firmly. She struggled blindly, sobbing for the alien to let her go.
"Ellie!" It was Jack, his voice carrying over the girl's sobs. Her face came up, eyes meeting his across the distance. Her cries faded to a soft whimpering.
"Pull yourself together, El!" Jack's voice was sharply commanding, and Stephen saw it take effect. Ellie swallowed hard.
"Don't make these guys mad, El! You hear me? You're gonna get us all killed if you do!"
Ellie gulped. "I'm sorry!" The words were a quivering whisper. "Oh, Jack! I can't stand it!"
"Can't stand what?" Stephen demanded. "What's the matter with you?"
"This place! It's horrible!" She looked at Jack, eyes wide with horror. "Don't you feel it?"
"I don't feel nothin'." Jack glanced uneasily around. "Are you havin' a premonition?"
"No...no...this happened a long time ago. But I feel it! It's still here!" Her voice shook. "So terrible! So hungry and lost and scared!"
A great light was dawning on Jack's face. "I've heard of this! M'lord told me about it! She's a psychometrist. She can sense things that happened a long time ago. The talent's really rare."
The Jilectan who held Ellie said something to the leader, who answered briefly. Ellie was lifted to the alien's shoulder once more and the trek continued.
The little girl shuddered, again beginning to sob softly. The cave branched sharply and the Jilectans turned left. The tunnel opened out into a huge cavern, a smoking hole in the rock floor revealing a stream of lava oozing from a huge pool on a shelf above and vanishing into an abyss somewhere below. The cavern was full of steam and smoke, and in the center of the huge space...
Stephen stared, unbelieving. It was a ship--a huge ship, bigger than the biggest battlecruiser or passenger liner that he had ever seen. Its hatches were closed and there were no signs of life.
The Jilectans skirted the pool of lava, stepping gingerly, and approached the vessel. Their attitude suggested reverence again, their faces lowered, their eyes downcast. The leader stopped before the ship, prostrated himself, and lay motionless. The Jilectans holding the Terrans also approached and set their burdens down before the hatch, then, too, fell on their faces, unmoving.
"Now what?" Stephen whispered.
"You got me." Jack glanced at the motionless forms of their captors. "We're the god's messengers. Maybe we oughta bow or somethin'."
"Hold on a minute." Stephen approached the hatch of the ship and went up the boarding ramp. The hatch was closed and sealed, lights off. "Ellie?"
"Yes?" Her voice wavered.
"How old is this? If you can sense things that happened a long time ago, you ought to be able to tell."
"Sure, I can tell." Her voice still shook, and she sounded uninterested in the ship. "It's maybe three hundred Coralan years. Oh, Stephen!" Again she began to cry. "I can feel such terrible things! It was so awful!"
"What happened here, El?" Jack asked, softly.
"They came to colonize." As though in a trance she went forward and reached out a hand to touch the surface of the boarding ramp. "They were the first colony from their planet, a long time ago. They got lost, and weren't sure where they were. The ship got off course somehow, but they found this planet." She looked up at the roof cavern, eyes widely dilated, apparently unseeing. "It was a nice world. They settled down..." Her face turned toward him, and he saw that the pupil had spread to blot out the blue of the iris completely. If it were a thousand years ago on Terra, Stephen thought, she would surely have been labeled a witch. Her look frightened him a little, even though he knew she was only using her psychic powers--powers possessed by many Terrans.
"But things went bad." Her voice fell. "There was war--lots of wars. The two different continents fought to the death. Their cities were burned, the land was destroyed. The survivors came back here--to this island where they'd first landed. There weren't many of them that made it--maybe five hundred or so." She shuddered shrilly. "Many more died of hunger and disease after the wars. Everything fell apart. The population was scattered and all but wiped out..."
The Jilectans were rising to their feet, all of them staring at the little girl. Ellie appeared unaware of it, eyes still wide and dark, her hands feeling searchingly along the boarding ramp. She continued go speak, telling of the images, the history contained within this ancient cavern and the ship before them.
"Years passed and the Jilectans who were left fought to survive. They forgot their heritage. None of them knew where their race had come from, but legends remained." Her voice changed abruptly to a high, singsong quality. "Tula donat! Cavavan coo! Tor lorra tova! Garavara coo tono!"
"What's she saying?" Stephen whispered, turning to Comishvor.
Comishvor glanced apprehensively at their captors, then replied in a low voice.
"Archaic Jilectan words. Some I do not...cannot be sure of their meaning." Again he paused, listening, then resumed, his voice carrying some of the singsong quality of the little girl's. "In a great chariot came the great god and his wives and children. The chariot he left within the walls of the great...Garavara? And Garavara still guards his chariot, but the god, our great god has gone--none know where. He saw the weakness of his people and, in contempt, left them until they might grow strong as they once were. Still he speaks to us, through his servant, Garavara, and through him we receive our power of fire starting."
Comishvor paused, listening as the Jilectan words continued from the little Terran girl. "I...I missed part of that last bit--something about other tribes, I think, wanting evil, taking their women and breeding weakness among them...uh, delaying the god's return. Children born without the power of fire are killed--signs of weakness among the race..."
"My God!" Stephen muttered.
"There aren't many such children born now," Comishvor continued. "The weakness has been eliminated from the great god's people..."
"Kavurrix!" One of the Jilectans struck Comishvor, knocking him to the ground again and silencing him. Ellie, apparently shocked out of her reverie, gave a cry of distress. The Jilectans surrounded her, staring at her in open-mouthed astonishment.
"Let him alone!" Ellie cried, angrily. "He isn't doing anything wrong!"
"Vinx," the leader muttered. He reached out to touch Ellie's hair again, then gestured to his people. Two of the girls who had danced during the attempted burning of Comishvor, came hesitantly forward. They knelt before the little girl, bending their heads forward so that their brown hair cascaded across their faces.
Ellie's eyes went vacant again. "Corta lee!" she whispered. "Vinx. Corta lee."
Comishvor lifted his head, coughed, and glanced around at his captors.
"The god will return!" he whispered apprehensively. "She says that he will signal his coming by sending messengers ahead--small people with dark hair, and their leader will be a tiny female with hair like the night sky..." His rapid translation ended in a grunt as one of the primitives kicked him in the mouth. His head sagged forward.
"Her hair's the wrong color!" Stephen breathed. "That's why they're not sure. They don't know what to make of her--and of us!"
Ellie's eyes focussed. "Let him alone!" she piped. "He hasn't hurt you! Why are you being so mean to him?" She stepped past the kneeling Jilectan girls to bend over Comishvor. "Are you okay, Lord Comishvor?"
"Careful, El," Jack whispered. "Your hair's the wrong color. They're not sure what t'think of you!"
For a second Ellie looked puzzled, and Stephen wondered if she hadn't understood her own words of a moment ago. Then her expression cleared and she stood up, watching their captors warily. One of the Jilectans spoke to the leader, who inclined his massive head.
"Gurta!" he intoned and motioned. Two of his followers approached the pirate Jilectan, caught his arms and pulled him to his feet.
Comishvor's face came up and he voiced a terrified cry. Ellie screamed at the same instant. "Stephen! Jack! They're going to throw him into the volcano!"
The primitives were yanking Comishvor forward toward the glowing pit of lava. The pirate struggled weakly and totally ineffectually against the combined grasps of his captors. Jack turned on Stephen, his expression horrified.
"What'll we do? I can't put out the volcano!"
"Stall 'em!" Stephen turned to Ellie. "Quick! Think of something!"
Ellie leaped forward, one tiny arm extended upward toward the roof of the cavern.
"T'was the night before Christmas!" she shrieked. "And all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse!"
Stephen took her cue, also jumping forward, catching her around the waist and swinging her high over his head. "The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there!"
Ellie arched her back, arms and legs splayed out. She and Stephen had practiced joint tumbling many times at home, and the moves were almost automatic to both of them. "The children were nestled," she cooed softly, "all snug in their beds, while visions of sugarplums danced in their heads."
The volcano rumbled softly, and black and orange bubbles rose to the surface of the lava pit. Sparks danced for an instant around the edge. The Jilectans had paused, watching the two Terran children, large blond faces betraying no expression at all. One of them voiced a wordless exclamation as his torch abruptly flickered and went out. Good old Jack, Stephen thought, adding what he could to their attempts.
He tossed Ellie high and caught her again, swinging her in a wide circle. "And mama in her kerchief and I in my cap, had just settled down for a long winter's nap!"
Another soft rumble from the volcano. A second of the torches flickered out. Then a third.
"When out in the yard there arose such a clatter!" Ellie cried, breathlessly, "I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter."
Stephen swung the girl down and dropped beside her, going into a handstand. He walked on his hands three steps, then dropped onto a shoulder, rolled, and came to his feet. "Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters..." He spread his arms wide and performed a cartwheel. One of the sharp stones beneath his hand jabbed him and he yelped, losing his balance. He fell clumsily and rolled to a sitting position, sucking his cut palm. "And threw up the..."
He stopped. The Jilectans were staring at him still, but their expressions had changed from wonder and awe to anger.
"Sousa san!" It was their leader. "Susa susa Sousa san!" In three steps he was beside the boy, drawing the cut palm toward him. "Vaska vu!"
He smeared his own palm across Stephen's and held it high. "Vaska vu!"
"He says you bleed!" Comishvor croaked. "The great god's messenger could not bleed!"
Stephen felt cold fear run through him as the iron grasp on his wrist tightened. Ellie cried out and started forward, but one of the brown haired dancing girls caught her, thrusting her back.
"Koova!" The Jilectan chief yanked Stephen over beside Comishvor. "Kesta Koova!"
"He says," Comishvor whispered, "that the desecrator and the deceiver will enter the great god's belly together..."
Ellie screamed as the Jilectan and Terran were thrust inexorably toward the lava pit. The Jilectan girls, except for the one holding Ellie, tripped forward, beginning to chant rhythmically.
"We're done for!" Stephen said.
"Kosa Kater!" Comishvor shouted. "Kavu tat tanna! To no..." The word ended in a grunt as his captor struck him.
Something made Stephen turn to look at Jack. The boy's eyes were wide, but he wasn't looking at either Stephen or Comishvor. His gaze was fixed on the opening through which they had entered, utterly ignoring the hundreds of Jilectans assembled in the cavern. Stephen followed his gaze.
Edwin White stepped through the opening, holding Loreen by one hand. The baby, Kimmie, was balanced on his hip.
"Mr. White!" Jack shouted. "Speak to them! Tell them we're their god's messengers! Hurry! Tell them!"
To Stephen's amazement and relief, instant understanding came into the little man's features. He let go of Loreen's hand and stepped forward.
"Spanx vacu!" he intoned. "La vora!"
The Jilectans froze, staring at him.
"Tell him it's okay for a god's messenger to bleed!" Ellie shouted. "They're going to kill Stephen cause he's bleeding! Tell 'em, Mr. White! Hurry!"
White's calm, dark eyes swept the scene, and he took a step forward, looking incredibly impressive in the flickering light. He began to speak quietly, and yet his voice seemed to fill the entire cavern--a voice filled with power and authority--a voice that commanded respect and unquestioning obedience.
Comishvor translated rapidly in an undertone as Edwin's words continued, filling the eerie silence of the cavern.
"'What is this, people of the great god? At long last your god sends a messenger to you, and you try to destroy his servants, sent before him to prepare his way!'" Comishvor's voice fell to an awed whisper. "By the stars, the Terran is magnificent! 'People of the great god, certainly the god's messengers bleed. Are they not mortal, like yourselves? Only the great god, himself, is divine!'" Edwin placed Kimmie on the floor of the cave and held up a hand in the flickering torchlight. Stephen watched, breathless, as White drew his own knife from his belt, and, with a swift slash of the blade, sliced his own forefinger. Blood trickled red in the torchlight and the primitives fell back with a concerted gasp. Edwin began to speak again, and again Comishvor translated rapidly in an undertone. "'The messengers of the great god, and the messengers servants too, will bleed as easily as yourselves! Does that mean you are to kill them? Do you presume, people of the volcano, to tell the great god how to form his creations? Do you presume to tell him that they should not bleed, should not sleep, should not eat or feel pain? The great god sent them ahead of me, to prepare the way for his messenger, and now his messenger must save them from you!'" He bent suddenly and lifted Kimmie before him, drawing back the blanket from her head to reveal her dark, waving locks.
A Jilectan female screamed shrilly and hid her face in her hands. The scream bounced eerily around the mammoth cavern and was echoed by groans and cries from the other Jilectans. The leader spoke sharply and the Jilectan holding Stephen released him as if he had suddenly become red hot, and stepped back.
"Tell them to release me, Edwin!" Comishvor shouted. "Tell them I'm your servant too, or something. They think I am a member of an enemy tribe."
"Nostorma vata va!" Edwin snapped. He gestured imperiously.
Instantly Comishvor was also freed. The leader approached Edwin, his eyes downcast, and knelt before the Terran. The rest of the tribe quickly followed suit. In all his life, Stephen decided, he would never again witness anything quite so incredible.
Edwin stood in impressive silence. Kimmie smiled toothlessly and gurgled happily to the bowing throng. Then Edwin strode past them and over to Stephen. Loreen hurried behind him and bent to help her son to his feet.
"Are you okay, Stephen?"
"Yes, Mom." Stephen realized only then that his mouth was very dry. "Thanks, Mr. White." It came out as a sort of croak. "You were great."
"My pleasure, Steph." The man flashed him that wide, magnetic smile. "Now, let's see if the god's chariot still has the umph to take his servants back to heaven." He strode past the prostrate throng and up the boarding ramp. Ellie, Jack, Loreen, Stephen and Comishvor followed. Edwin handed the baby to Ellie and reached forward to place a hand on the hatch. He closed his eyes, one arm around Loreen, and concentrated. The hatch gave sort of a protesting squeal and slid open.
Some of the Jilectans lifted their faces to stare while the rest remained where they were. Edwin stepped through the hatch, his arm still firm around Loreen. The others followed.
**********
(tbc)
