I've been very busy the last couple of weeks. It seems like I can hardly find time to squeeze in any writing time, however I am still working on The Vampire Murders. The Reluctant Pirate, however, only requires editing, so it hasn't taken nearly as much time. The other story will be up as soon as I can find a little writing time. Here, however, is the next part of Pirate in the meantime.
The Reluctant Pirate: 11/?
by Linda Garrick and Nancy Smith
Chapter 13
Jason Sweeney stood next to Trevor, watching the pirates closely. He wondered what was going to happen now, and why Lord Blashvor wanted to see Trevor again. He had expressed very little interest in Trev on their earlier encounter, and Jason had not expected him to be summoned again.
The lift came to a stop and the doors slid open. The Terran and the Arcturian ushered them through and followed. They found themselves in a corridor which led directly into an airlock. Beyond the lock was the ship’s hatch.
Without hesitation, the Arcturian pressed a control and the hatch clicked smoothly open. They were led out through a tube and into some kind of dome, which arched overhead, rather like the descriptions Jason had read of the domed cities of Luna, Terra’s satellite. Beneath their feet was the smooth metal of a landing bay. Soft reddish lighting emanated from power cells embedded in the stuff beneath their feet. Perhaps a hundred meters away was a building, gleaming pale in the uncertain lighting. Overhead, through the dome, stars gleamed against the blackness. The air was fresh and warm, and smelled faintly of growing things.
“Where are we?” Jason asked.
Neither of their escorts answered. They were herded toward the building, flanked by their guards. All around them was an eerie silence.
Trevor glanced sideways at him, not speaking, Jason could sense his friend’s apprehension, and again Trevor’s thoughts leaped out at him. Was this, then, the payoff? Perhaps it was all a mistake, and they really were prisoners of the Autonomy. Was it possible this pirate guise was nothing but a setup to keep the Underground off their backs until the prisoners could be delivered to a top security base?
Well, they would soon know. The building was before them, and the door slid open. They entered a comfortably furnished lounge, its walls decorated with all varieties of expensive items, and illuminated by the soft, reddish lighting. Thick, expensive carpet carpeted the floor, huge, overstuffed chairs were clustered about an enormous fireplace, and real logs burned within it, snapping and crackling. Perhaps a dozen figures were clustered before it, and faces turned toward them as they entered. Jason beheld a motley collection of beings and had a brief impression of unkempt beards, gaudy jewelry, and various scars and blemishes. He saw another Procyon with a case of red mite, two Arcturians, and one species he couldn’t identify. Three Tormheits were seated on the outskirts of the crowd, speaking together in their own language.
A roar of applause sounded as they approached, and two Terrans stood up, a Procyon behind them. One of the men made a rude gesture toward them.
“You brought the stinkin' 'trol!" he exclaimed. "You're a good guy, Puvvir!"
"He iss not for you, my friendss," the Arcturian said.
There was a chorus of protests. One of the Terrans started forward, one hand on his jeweled blaster. "Well, you ain't gettin’ him all to yourself, Puv!”
"Hiss Lordsship'ss orders. He iss not to be harmed."
"Why?" the Procyon demanded.
"Hiss Lordsship'ss orders. If you wissh to know, you will have to assk him."
There was a disgruntled murmur from the men. "Well, how 'bout leavin' him with us while you take the psychic to Blashvor!" one of the others suggested. "We can show him around!" He gave a roar of laughter.
Puvvir ignored them. Jason and Trevor were ushered through a massive doorway, down an elegantly carpeted hall, and into another room. The Arcturian and Terran followed and took their places beside the door. The Arcturian pressed a switch on the wall. "My Lord?"
"Yes, Puvvir?"
"Zey are here."
"Very well. There will be a short wait. I will call you."
"Yess, my lord."
Silence. Trevor and Jason looked at each other. The Terran guard grinned, not speaking.
Jason cleared his throat. "Do you know why he wants to see us, Puvvir?"
No reply. The Arcturian watched them, one hand on the hilt of his blaster. The Terran grinned nastily. "Maybe he's going to toss the 'trol out the dome without a pressure suit. That's what he did to the last 'trol we caught, after the men had finished with him. 'Course, there wasn't much left by that time"
"Sshut up, Morley," Puvvir said.
Jason felt his heart begin to thump with a mixture of anger and apprehension, Trevor seated himself in a chair, his face expressionless, but Jason could sense his fear. The Terran chuckled. "I always enjoy seeing a 'trol caught in a corner. They aren't nearly so brave when they're outnumbered. Shoe's on the other foot now, isn't it, 'trol?"
Silence. Jason stepped forward and faced the man angrily, "He's not a 'trol now! He gave up his career to save my life, so you just shut up!"
The guard laughed. "Somehow I can't see Lord Blashvor holding on to a 'trol for long. He never has before, and he's caught enough of 'em."
"Shut up, Morely," the Arcturian said tiredly. "It issn't ssafe to make a prissoner dessperate. You sshould know zat."
"Okay, Puv." The pirate relaxed against the wall, grinning.
Jason stared at him with hatred. Was it possible Blashvor had reconsidered? Was there any way to find out? He was a psychic, wasn't he? Couldn't he read one of these guy's minds?
If only he knew how? He could sense nothing from either of them. Blashvor must have taught them shielding. Still, he must try.
"Trev," he said.
"Yeah?"
"Come here a minute, please."
Trevor got up and came over to him. Jason clasped his wrist. It was easier to do psychic work when Trevor was touching him. He didn't know why, and he really didn't care.
Trevor's hand closed tight over his shoulder. "What're you doing, Shorty?" he inquired.
The Arcturian was watching them closely. "Do not attempt anything, Terranss," he said levelly.
For some reason he could not have explained, Jason chose the Arcturian for his probe. He concentrated, sensing all at once the blurred consciousness of the alien. It seemed to be shielded, all right, but the shields weren't impassible. After a moment he made it through, feeling the psychic power surge through him as Trevor's fingers gripped his tighter. The Arcturian was still watching him, puzzled and suspicious. So was the Terran.
The alien's thoughts were suddenly clear before him, and Jason knew at once that they had no reason to fear. The Terran would attempt nothing, and Blashvor had no intention of angering Jason by harming his friend. Trevor was safe, at least for now.
He began to laugh in sheer relief, and turned to the Terran, feeling slightly giddy with his success. The Terran glared at him. "What're you doing, Shrimp?"
"Probing you," Jason said maliciously. He concentrated, and Morely yelped. "Hey! You get out of my mind, you little imp! Quit trying to read me!"
Odd that the Terran had sensed it, while the Arcturian had not. Jason giggled triumphantly. "Make me!" He strengthened his probe, feeling the Terran's shields part. The man yelped in protest, and then swore. Jason giggled again. "Ha, ha! Got you."
The man gave a bellow. "Stop it!" He drew his blaster. "Stop it or I shoot your 'trol friend right now!"
Jason laughed again. "Sure you will, Orville!" He squeezed Trevor's wrist comfortingly. "Don't worry, Trev. He doesn't dare. He's a big bluffer. He shoots you, and the Jil'll put him on the rack, and he knows it. It's all right there in his mind, plain to see. And it's in Puvvir's mind, too!" Jason grinned wickedly.
The man swore. "Get out of there, you little monster!"
"Okay." Jason withdrew his probe. "But you leave my friend alone after this, Mister. Hear me?"
"Jusst a minute." The Arcturian stepped forward. "You could not read my mind, pssychic."
"I sure can!" Jason sobered. "It's okay, Puvvir. You've been decent to us. I won't tell anybody what I saw."
Trevor was staring at him. "Shorty, did you really?"
Jason nodded. "He was easier than Morely. That's why I chose him first. I had to know what Blashvor was planning."
The Arcturian's eyes narrowed. "Ziss iss impossible!"
Trevor was frowning. "Shorty are you sure?"
"Sure I'm sure. I'll prove it to you. Puvvir joined these people seven years ago, but he doesn't want anyone to know why." Jason spoke directly to the glowering alien. "And I won't tell."
The Arcturian hissed. Trevor gave a bark of laughter. "Shorty, you're great! Not even the Jils can read Arcturians! In fact, that's why Lord Rakinxvor was looking for Terran psychics. He was checking them out. Only a few very powerful Terrans can read the Arcturians, and you just happen to be one of them! The Jils need those Terrans to locate Underground Arcturian spies for them!"
"Really? I thought he was just shielded."
"Arcturian 's can't be taught shielding, but usually, 'cause of their mental makeup, they don't need it."
Puvvir hissed fiercely between his teeth, and at that moment the intercom beeped. The Jilectan's voice emerged. "Bring in the psychic and his friend, Puvvir."
For a long moment the Arcturian didn't answer. He was staring balefully at Jason. "Terran pssychic!" he hissed. "Deshenerate!"
"Puvvir? Morley?" It was Blashvor's voice again. "Bring them in."
"Yes, M'lord," Morely growled. He gestured toward the door. "Walk ahead of us."
They obeyed. The guards herded them down another lavish corridor and stop them before a door. It swished open before them, revealing a Lady Jilectan, a different one than Jason had seen before. She was dressed in a sheer, sparkling pink gown, and her hair hung long over her shoulders and far down her back. Large, heavy jewels which looked like blue diamonds hung from her ears.
Trevor stepped back as though on instinct, colliding with Puvvir. The Lady smiled coolly at him. "Hello there," she said softly.
"My Lady," Trevor mumbled, bowing.
She went out, one hand brushing Trevor's broad shoulder as she passed. The Trevor flinched away, and Jason again sensed apprehension. He turned to glance after the Lady.
But the Arcturian and Terran guards were ushering them inside. They entered a room, exquisitely furnished with sheer, ruffled draperies and gorgeously woven tapestries. Lord Blashvor was seated in an armchair, studying a small, delicately worked piece of jewelry. Other jewels lay scattered on a table beside him. He glanced up as Jason and Trevor entered, gesturing for them to approach.
They did so, and Trevor knelt, pulling Jason down beside him. The Terran and Arcturian also knelt, then rose and stood aside, hands resting on the hilts of their weapons.
The Jilectan gestured gracefully. "Rise, Jason."
Jason obeyed, but Trevor stayed he was, head bent. Jason glanced at him, sensing apprehension, although outwardly he appeared very calm. The Jilectan surveyed them both appraisingly.
"I am told, Jason," the alien intoned, "that you and the corporal appear to have some sort of mental link between you two. I, of course, read that in your friend's mind earlier, some nonsense about Alan Westover forming a link. It sounded most improbable to me, and I dismissed what occurred as trickery by the Underground and perhaps Terran imagination, both of which are quite prevalent in this sector." He paused, fingering the jewel again, his handsome face thoughtful. "But apparently the corporal demonstrated this link again recently, and it was observed by one of my servants." His gaze flicked to Puvvir. "And reported to me. When Ganger attacked you, the Corporal apparently knew exactly what was occurring. I cannot imagine how this could be, unless what I saw in his mind was indeed correct."
Jason glanced at Trevor. Trevor was staring at the rug, his face set. The Jilectan put down the jewel and rose gracefully. "I am told that Terran psychics link with their partners constantly, both those in the Underground and out of it. But these links occur only between psychics. Rise, Trevor."
The Corporal stood up, his gaze still fixed on the carpet. The Jilectan took a long step toward him, and Trevor started to retreat instinctively, then froze as the alien's hand closed on his shoulder.
"Do not move." Blashvor's hand slid up to his temple and the Jilectan concentrated his eyes becoming unfocused. Trevor's eyes closed, his face set.
The probe lasted less than ten seconds. Then Blashvor turned to Jason. "I shall be reading your mind, little psychic. Do not be afraid. It will not hurt."
Jason swallowed. "Okay, sir, if you want."
A faint smile tugged at the Jilectan's lips. He seated himself again, beckoning for Jason to approach. Jason obeyed, feeling his skin prickle a little with nervous tension. He stopped before the alien's chair, but Blashvor reached out, hands catching him about the ribcage, and lifting him lightly to his lap.
Jason found himself enthroned like a baby on the alien's huge knees. Blashvor relaxed, placing a hand against his face. Jason sat still, trying not to mind. If Trevor could stand it, he could.
Blashvor frowned abruptly. "Jason?"
"Yes sir?"
"You have received no training, have you?"
"No, sir. Trevor gave me a few pointers, but that's all."
"You have formed some rather rudimentary shielding and are using it against me."
Jason’s heart jumped. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know."
"I see that, do not be afraid. It is quite ineffectual, but definitely a good beginning. Try to relax it, now. This should only take a moment, if you cooperate."
Jason tried his best to cooperate. The Jilectan grunted in annoyance. "You are tightening it, Jason. Relax. I shall not hurt you."
"How do I do it, sir?" Jason swallowed the lump of fear in his throat.
Blashvor didn't reply. His big hand moved, then tightened around Jason's face, and the boy was uncomfortably aware of the strength behind that hand, and the fact that Blashvor could probably crush his skull easily if he so chose.
But the grip did not become painful. Jason concentrated on relaxing, trying to will his mind to go blank. Again the Jilectan grunted with annoyance.
"I'm sorry!" Jason gasped. "I'm not trying to do it!"
The alien glanced at the two guards. "Both of you. Go!"
The men went to the door. The Terran hesitated. "M'lord, are you sure --"
"Go, Morely."
The guards went out. Blashvor regarded Jason with interest. "You read the mind of Puvvir, Little Psychic?"
Jason nodded. "Yes sir. I hope you don't mind. That Morely guy was sort of hinting that you might have changed your mind, about keeping Corporal Trevor alive. I wanted to be sure he was just -- joking -- you know."
"Of course." A faint smile. "But Arcturians cannot be read -- at least, not by Jilectans. Did you know that?"
"No, sir -- not until after I did it. Trev -- Corporal Trevor told me."
"I see." Blashvor lifted him lightly down and beckoned to the Corporal. Trevor approached to stop beside Jason. The Jilectan surveyed them both in silence.
"I detect no link," he said at last.
Jason looked, quickly at Trevor. The Corporal remained still, eyes down.
"I have detected links between Terran psychics before, but as far as I can see there is no communication between your minds. And yet, the Corporal knew, just as Linley apparently knew when --" He stopped.
"Mark Linley, sir?" Jason said, forgetting himself. "Have you met Mark Linley?"
The Jilectan laughed softly. "Not exactly, my little psychic. But I have met Westover. In fact, I mistook him for something he was not, much to my chagrin. I held him prisoner aboard this ship for approximately twenty minutes, during which time he apparently summoned help, for I found myself being pursued by several Underground ships. I find this very interesting that Westover, who apparently formed this undetectable link between you and the Corporal, also has a link of his own which apparently functions over quite lengthy distances."
Jason felt his jaw drop. Westover, while pursuing them, had been captured by Blashvor and brought aboard this very ship! "Is he still here, sir?"
"Certainly not. I released him as soon as I knew who he was. I wish no trouble with the Terran Underground, my little psychic. He asked about your welfare, by the way, and made my servant promise to take good care of you."
"Really?"
"Really." The Jilectan concentrated for a moment. A door to their left opened suddenly and a man entered.
"Yes, M'lord?"
"Come here, Fenton," the Jilectan said.
The newcomer approached. He was a young man, probably no more than nineteen, with huge dark eyes and black hair, which was cropped just below his ears. His high cheekbones and reddish complexion spoke of American Indian descent, but there the resemblance ended. He was very small, only about a head taller than Jason, himself, and his build was lean and supple. A tight, black bodysuit outlined his form, the waist adorned by a bright red sash. A silver hoop dangled from one ear. He reached the Jilectan's chair and dropped gracefully to one knee.
Blashvor addressed him. "Fenton, speak to Jason telepathically."
A Terran psychic! Jason regarded the young man with interest. Another psychic in the service of Lord Blashvor! For what reason, then, had the alien needed him?
Fenton rose easily to his feet, his eyes still on the Jilectan. He made a soft sound in his throat. "Tell him to lower his shieldin', M'lord," he said.
"He is not aware of it," Blashvor said. "Can you penetrate it?"
"Maybe." Fenton concentrated again.
Slowly Jason became aware of a voice speaking in his mind -- the voice of the other psychic. *Hi there, Jason.*
*Hi,* Jason thought back.
"Enough." It was the Jilectan. "Fenton was the one who accidentally captured Westover, Jason."
"Really?" Jason turned eagerly on the other psychic. "What did he say?"
The psychic lowered his eyes. "He asked me to take care of you for him."
"Oh. Nothing else?"
Fenton glanced at the Jilectan. "No, nothin' else."
Blashvor smiled benignly. "You may go, Fenton."
Fenton knelt, rose, and retreated. The door closed behind him.
"Very interesting," the Jilectan said. "I easily followed your communication with the other Terran psychic. Jason, try to speak to your friend telepathically."
"Okay, sir, but I don't think it'll work," Jason told him. "The only time he seems to hear me is when I'm scared."
"Try," the Jilectan commanded.
"Okay, sir." Jason concentrated, reaching for Trevor's mind. He could feel his friend's consciousness easily, and called his name in his thoughts twice, as loud as he could think it. There was no response from the Corporal—no flicker to indicate he had heard. The Jilectan leaned forward, brow furrowed, watching.
At last Jason gave up. "It just doesn't work, sir."
"You are correct, Jason." Blashvor sat back in his chair again. "This is most interesting. I should very much like to meet Alan Westover again and ask him what he did to you."
"I'd like to know a little more about it, myself, sir," Jason said. "Sir?"
"Yes, Jason?"
"Where are we?"
A benevolent smile. "Ah, boyhood curiosity! We are at my base, Jason. We are located on an asteroid in the center of an asteroid field. Very difficult to find, I assure you."
"Yeah, for sure! I mean, yes sir!"
Trevor cleared his throat. "My Lord Blashvor?"
The Jilectan glanced at him, face becoming cold and distant. "Corporal?"
"Could you please -- I mean -- may I ask what your plans are for Jason? Why do you want him?"
Blashvor surveyed Trevor coldly. "He is a Terran psychic. Such beings are very useful to pirates. My brother, Dishvor, had three, the last I heard, although none so powerful as little Jason here. He will be a great asset to me on raids against ships."
"He's an empath," Trevor muttered. "He'll likely get killed."
"I will guard him carefully, Corporal. He is valuable to me, and I will soon be testing him to discover what powers he possesses. A valuable psychic is not regarded lightly. Does that satisfy you, Corporal?"
Trevor bowed. "Beg pardon, M'Lord. I'm just worried about him."
Blashvor regarded him, his expression remote. "Interesting. But then, I suppose if he were killed, your life would not be worth much, would it?"
"No, M'Lord," Trevor said, his voice very low.
The alien frowned at him. "Be advised, Corporal Trevor, that I am not overly fond of Patrolmen, myself. I will tolerate no impertinence from you."
"Yes, M'lord." Trevor lowered his eyes again.
"If not for Jason, you would be dead by now. I advise you that, while in my presence, you remain silent."
Trevor stepped back, his eyes fixed on the carpet. Jason bit his lip, feeling sorry for Trevor, but knowing that if he spoke, he might well make matters worse. The Jilectan pressed a control on the chair arm and instantly Puvvir was in the room again.
"Yess ssir?"
"Take the Corporal back to his room."
"Yess My Lord."
"And Puvvir?"
"Yess ssir?"
"I know that the psychic boy has read your mind."
Puvvir's muzzle seemed to quiver for a moment. "Yess M'Lord."
"This makes no difference. My orders still stand. No harm is to come to either my psychic or his friend. The boy will keep your secrets. You may be sure of that."
Impassive yellow eyes met the equally impassive blue ones of the Jilectan.
"Yess, My Lord."
"You may go."
Trevor accompanied the Arcturian from the room.
**********
tbc
