The Reluctant Pirate: 16/?
by Linda Garrick and Nancy Smith
Chapter 19
The lifeboat sped through hyperspace on course for Lord Dishvor's base. Nathan Packard, seated in one of the passenger chairs, watched in frightened silence as Lord Dishvor turned from the controls. His wife also turned, her lovely face a frozen mask of fury.
The jewels worn formerly by Lord Dishvor were gone; stolen by the clever, powerful psychic belonging to Dishvor's evil, treacherous brother. Nathan swallowed feeling his heart pounding against his ribs. He could sense the fear in the young female psychic beside him, but dared not speak, or even look at her at the moment. Dishvor's psychics were not allowed to communicate with each other while in the presence of their master.
Of one accord the two Terrans unfastened their safety webbing and rose to their feet. Lord Dishvor spoke.
"Approach me, slaves!"
Nathan hurried forward and knelt abjectly before the alien. The girl followed and also knelt, her head bowed.
"I have lost to my brother! Blashvor has my ship, my jewels, and a fair portion of my crew! The fault is yours, Packard! You did not warn me! You are a precog, and yet you said nothing!"
"Master...I...I told you before the raid that it...it might not turn out as you wished."
The Jilectan kicked him, knocking him to the deck. He lay still, ears ringing, and cursing himself. A Terran psychic did not argue with a Jilectan! It did no good, and only got the Terran hurt. Slowly he made it to his knees again. "Forgive me, Master."
"I do not forgive you, Terran. You have cost me dearly on this venture. You will find my brother for me, or I will possibly decide that you are not worth keeping. I have no use for a psychic who does not use his abilities to my benefit."
"Yes, master."
"That psychic of his...." Dishvor's voice became musing. "I want him. You were in contact with him, were you not?"
"I tried, Master. He sensed me and shut me out."
"You were clumsy!"
"Yes, Master. I'm sorry."
"You will find him for me. When you touched his mind, did you detect anything which might be of use in locating him?"
Nathan hesitated. "I...I didn't have time, Master, but I also touched the other psychic's mind, and he didn't get his shields closed too quickly. I got a very quick impression that Blashvor might be heading for Shallock in a very short time. The thought seemed to be uppermost in his mind, Master. That was why I noticed it."
"Shallock?"
"Yes, Master -- at least, I think to."
Dishvor regarded him in silence. Nathan kept his eyes firmly on the deck, trying desperately to keep his mind blank. He was fairly sure that Dishvor wouldn't kill him. He was a powerful psychic, and Dishvor's only precog. Surely that, in itself, would save him, at least for the present.
Dishvor spoke. "We shall go to Shallock, slave, and you had best invoke whatever god you worship that my brother is there, with his psychics, for if they are not, you shall suffer for it."
"Yes, Master."
"Now go, both of you. Prepare us meals and decent beds for the return trip."
"Yes, Master." Nathan rose and backed toward the kitchen. Trish followed.
Chapter 20
It was ninety-six hours since Dishvor's attempted ambush, when Jason, accompanied by Trevor, Fenton and Blashvor landed their small ship in a remote area of Shallock. They were escorted by an armed bodyguard of pirates, all dressed respectably for the occasion. Jason stood up as the purr of repulsers died, Fenton beside him, eager to be off. Blashvor came impressively to his feet, and Jason found himself looking at the alien in admiration. Blashvor wore the modest dark clothing of a lower class Jilectan, his feet shod in slightly worn boots. For the first time since Jason had known him, he wore no jewelry or earrings. Jason, himself, was clad in his former blue jeans and sweater, now laundered and mended. Trevor once more wore Mark Linley's confiscated clothing.
They boarded their modest late model aircar, Trevor taking his place behind the controls. Jason sat beside him, one hand resting on his friend's shoulder, and Blashvor and Fenton climbed into the rear of the craft. Their bodyguard boarded two other aircars and followed as they left the landing bay of the ship.
Jason glanced back at the other cars. They were flying a little above their own, far enough back not to attract attention, but close enough to be of immediate help, should they be needed.
Blashvor spoke. "Fenton, give him the ring. Let us begin."
Fenton slipped the chain from around his neck and handed it across the seat to Jason. Jason took it and leaned back in his seat, eyes closed, concentrating. At first he could sense nothing, except the faint quiver of movement he had known before which he was sure indicated that the ring's owner was still alive. Around him was deep silence, except for the purr of the car's engine.
A pull from the little object; very faint, but definite, Jason grimaced. "I've got something."
Silence again, Jason could sense Fenton's eager interest and hope. He must find the girl for Fenton. What had happened to the brother and sister was so terribly unfair! They deserved a break out of life after all the hard blows it had dealt them.
"Turn north, Trev,"
The car turned north, Jason concentrated again.
"How far?" Fenton's voice was hushed.
"I don't know. A good distance, but she is here! I'm sure of that much!"
Silence again. Very gradually, almost imperceptibly, the pull was increasing. Jason concentrated, striving to put his whole being into the tracing process. "A little more east, Trev; just a tiny bit."
Again Trevor silently adjusted their course. After an hour the sensation had intensified enough that Jason could actually sense the girl's features and feel her emotions through the little object he held. She wasn't moving, or at least her location hadn't changed during that hour. The face he saw was pale, her eyes dark smudges against it. She was afraid of something, but it was an old fear: one that she had known and lived with for a long time.
Time passed. They moved over the rugged plains of the planet's largest continent, then across mountains, their peaks capped in white. Occasionally Jason sensed that their course was deviating slightly, and Trevor would adjust it at his word. Their escort remained with them, flying steadily.
**********
"We're approaching land," Trevor said.
They had been flying over the ocean for the past three hours, and ahead of them was a dark strip of shore. The pull from the ring was strong now, and Jason could sense that the end of their search was near. Against the dark strip was a collection of lights, glowing dimly in the gathering darkness. Shallock's sun had set, leaving a pale, glow on the horizon to the west.
"That's the town of Riphily," Trevor said, glancing at the car's datanet readout. "'Bout 50,000 inhabitants. The southern section is mostly Jilectans, the northern the lower species."
"Are we nearing our destination, Jason?" Blashvor sounded a little weary of the hunt.
"Yes sir." Jason nodded, his attention still riveted on his quarry. The girl was frustratingly near now. Blashvor mustn't give up! "I think she's in that town somewhere. A little more to the east, Trev."
Trevor adjusted their craft, and a big hand descended on Jason's shoulder. Jason realized suddenly that he was tired. He had been tracing steadily for nearly eight hours, with almost no rest.
The aura of the psychic girl intensified with the touch of Trevor's hand, and suddenly another sensation intruded, tickling on the edges of his consciousness. With a jolt, it registered as the mind of a Jilectan, and he felt the alien's start of recognition Jason gasped and his shields snapped closed.
"Kid?" Trevor was looking at him, expression worried.
"A Jil, Trev! He sensed me! None of them have up until now!"
Blashvor's voice was calm. "Simply keep your shields closed for a moment, Jason. I will tell you when it is safe to open them again."
Jason nodded, looking around at the pirate. "What if he tries to trace me, sir?"
"He cannot if you shut him out instantly, as I perceive you did."
"Why did he notice me, though?"
"He may have been actively scanning for another Terran. Most Jilectans will not notice you. Jilectan psychic senses are on a slightly different wavelength from that of Terrans. We overlap, you might say, and somehow, due to that overlap, I believe, it is hard for a Jilectan to sense a Terran, unless, of course, the Jilectan is actively scanning for the Terran psychic."
Fenton was listening, obviously interested. "1 didn't know that, sir. But I sense Jilectans easily. Doesn't it work the other way, too?
Blashvor turned to look at the little man, and Jason sensed annoyance, although the Jilectan's countenance remained expressionless. "I have told you before, Fenton, that Terrans are usually more powerful and versatile than Jilectans. That is why you sense us so easily, while we cannot sense you without conscious effort.
Fenton lowered his eyes. "Yes sir."
"You are not a particularly powerful psychic, Fenton, but even in those talents which we share, yours exceed my own."
"Yes, M'Lord," Fenton replied in a low voice. "Please don't be angry with me, sir."
"I am not angry." The annoyance increased. "It is a simple fact. To be angry about it would reduce mc to the level of the rest of my idiotic species, who refuse to utilize Terran psychics for their benefit, because by doing so, they would admit that in psychic ability Terrans often outmatch them." He spoke to Jason again. "You may continue tracing, my little psychic. The Jilectan who sensed you has departed.
Jason obeyed, once again lowering his shields and concentrating. Almost at once he sensed the girl again, much nearer now, and beginning to move toward him of her own accord. As had happened many times since he had arrived on Shallock, another Jilectan's consciousness touched Jason's, but the alien remained blissfully unaware of him. The girl's mind strengthened even more.
"She's definitely in that town ahead," Jason told Blashvor. "We're a good long distance from Scaifen, though, aren't we?"
"Nearly halfway around the planet," Trevor said.
"How on earth did she get here?" Jason wondered aloud. "Do you have relatives here, Fenton?"
Fenton shook his head, gaze flicking a little apprehensively toward Blashvor again. The big alien noticed. He smiled suddenly and benevolently, placing a large hand on Fenton's head and ruffling his dark hair.
"Ah, my little Terran, I do not wish to see you unhappy. You have sensed my annoyance, of course, and, without doubt, so has Jason. You could not help it, any more than I can help feeling it. I share my species resentment, although I do not let it hinder me. Jilectans have long been the master race, and it was our psychic abilities that made us so. We prided ourselves in our unique talents, and then, quite suddenly, from an insignificant little planet in the Rovalli sector comes a race of tiny beings who challenge our superiority."
Jason had never looked at it that way before. Blashvor was such an overwhelming presence, he just naturally seemed to be the one in charge.
"I am the one in charge, Jason," Blashvor said calmly. "Never forget that."
"I won't, sir," Jason said earnestly.
"Neither will I, sir," Fenton said. "I couldn't."
"I will not let you, will I? Your unspoken words come to me quite easily when I try, my little Terran." Again the Jilectan smiled benevolently, ruffling the psychic's hair like an affectionate father. "How goes the hunt, Jason?"
"We're awfully close, sir." Jason shifted uneasily, wondering at the odd sensation of fear which had begun to worm its way into his elation at being so near. Blashvor frowned.
"Is something amiss, my little, psychic?"
"I'm not sure." Jason shifted again, sensing the girl's mind now near at hand, mingled with the minds of many Jilectans. Fenton moved suddenly and convulsively, hands going to his head.
"I'm getting her!" he cried. "Trish! Trish, it's me: Fenton!"
Vividly, Jason felt the girl's answering start of recognition, and heard her voice.
"Fenton! Is it you? Where...."
The words were cut off suddenly and violently with a force which could only have come from a heavy blow. Jason felt it snap the girl's head sideways, and heard her cry out. Fenton yelped in surprised pain, and Blashvor uttered a startled oath under his breath.
The girl's consciousness was fading, slipping away. Another blow, and it was gone completely.
"What was it?" Trevor demanded.
"She recognized Fenton," Jason said. "She answered him, and someone hit her hard -- knocked her out."
"We've gotta find her!" Fenton's voice was furious. "No one treats my sister like that! I'll kill the guy with my bare hands!"
Blashvor's voice was calm. "We shall find her, Fenton. Do you have any idea who it could have been? Did she have a violent husband, perhaps?"
"She wasn't married, sir, at least, not when I knew her. Of course, it's been three years." His voice trailed off. "No sir," he resumed respectfully a moment later. "I got no idea."
"How much farther, Jason?" Blashvor inquired.
"We're close. She's straight ahead, too." Jason shifted again, fear twisting his stomach. "I don't feel so good, sir. Something's wrong."
"You’re linking with me," Trevor said ominously.
"You are frightened, Jason?" the Jilectan inquired.
"Yes sir. Something's wrong."
"Stop the car, Trevor," Blashvor commanded.
"Sir!" Fenton protested.
Trevor obeyed, bringing the car to a halt and placing it on hover control. The Jilectan glanced coolly at his elder psychic.
"You know Jason's warnings are not to be ignored, Fenton."
"But sir ..."
"Be still!" Blashvor turned his attention to Jason. "Are you sensing anything else, my little psychic?"
Jason gripped Trevor's hand, concentrating. The danger was there, all right, hovering in the wings. He sensed it strongly, and felt Trevor's hand tighten on his shoulder. Blashvor was watching them closely, and now the Jilectan spoke again.
"Get us out of here, Trevor!"
"Yes sir!" Trevor spun the car around, ignoring Fenton's wordless cry of protest.
"Be still, Fenton!" Blashvor's voice was tight. "I do not like this at all. It feels like a trap."
"We're being followed, sir!" Jason heard his own voice, shrill over the sound of the engines. He swallowed, trying to will it back to normalcy. "Sir, I ... I think ..." The consciousness penetrated his suddenly, leaping at him from the confusion of Jilectan presences below. "Sir! It's your brother!"
"My brother!" Blashvor's voice was sharp. "Are you certain?"
"Yes!"
A pause. Then Blashvor spoke again, his voice once more calm. "You are correct, Jason. It is my brother. Get us away, Trevor." He spoke into his communicator. "Lang! Sh'Driff! Prepare for attack! My brother Dishvor is in the pursuing aircar."
"He has a backup, too!" Jason was scanning the pursuing presences. "Two cars of his own, sir, and full of pirates, I'll bet anything you like!"
"No doubt."
Jason heard his own squeal of warning, and at the same instant a shot cracked^ loud through the night. Their craft rocked sharply.
Trevor swore, struggling with the controls as the little craft went spiraling down. From behind them came more blaster fire, and a muffled crash. Then their own craft pancaked to the ground, spun wildly, and smashed hard into a building. Stone rained down on top of them.
**********
Jason shook his head dizzily and glanced at Trevor beside him. The ex-patrolman was slumped limply against the door of the craft, a purpling bruise on his forehead, very evident even in the near darkness. Jason reached for him frantically. "Trev!"
No response, but under his fingers Trevor's pulse was steady and strong. Quickly Jason turned toward the rear.
Blashvor was also slumped against the seat, and Fenton lay across him, moaning softly, one hand pressed to his forehead. Blood oozed between the little man's fingers.
A sound from without brought Jason around, eyes probing the darkness. Someone was approaching, and whoever it was, that person had his shields up to avoid detection Jason opened the door beside him and scrambled out, blaster in hand.
Somewhere off to his right, there was the sound of an aircar's blasters, but Jason's attention was elsewhere. A shadowy form was creeping toward him in the dimness and another form moved a little distance from the first. On instinct, Jason turned his blaster on it and fired. There was a shrill, inhuman shriek, which he knew, somehow, had issued from the throat of a Jilectan.
Dishvor! He'd shot Dishvor! It didn't matter, he told himself. Nothing mattered, except Trevor, wounded and helpless back in the car, depending upon Jason to protect him. Jason turned his blaster on the other form. His enemies were keeping their shields up, preventing him from pinpointing them accurately, but as it was, he didn't score too badly. His blaster cracked and someone yelped. There was a scampering of feet and a voice spoke out of the darkness. "We know where you are, kid! Throw out your blaster and we won't hurt you!"
"You go to hell!" Jason fired again point blank at the voice. There was a muffled curse and the sound of retreating feet. A blaster hummed, the bolt passing close enough to raise the hair on his head. Jason leaped sideways and flattened himself against the wall of a crumbling building. He was in an alley, he realized, the aircar crumpled against its wall.
Footsteps approached, and again he fired. There was a scream of pain. Jason scanned widely in the darkness, aware now of another psychic mind nearby, scanning for him. He swung his blaster toward it and fired point blank. There was a cry of pain, and vividly he sensed the other psychic's distress.
*Get away!* Furiously he flung the telepathic words at the other. *Leave us alone!*
No answer, but an instant later a stunbeam hummed. The tingle brushed him, and for a moment consciousness faded. Faintly he heard a shout, and was aware of approaching footsteps. Jason struggled to bring his blaster up, but realized then that he had dropped the weapon. Frantically he felt for it.
Hands grabbed him, scooping him up. He was tossed lightly to a broad shoulder and carried kicking and writhing down the alley. Behind him he heard the crack of a blaster, and fire burst beneath his captor's feet. The man yelped, stumbling to his knees. Jason found himself rolling and bumping across pavement, the rough stone scoring his elbows. Hands caught him, dragging him forward. Fenton's voice shouted something in his mind.
He tried to answer. *Here! Help me, Fenton! They've got me!*
*Jason! Jason!* The fog was clearing now, and he heard the other psychic's voice clearly. Hands were pinning him to the pavement, but he writhed and kicked fruitlessly at his captors, barely able to make out their forms in the dimness. There seemed to be at least four of them.
*Fenton!*
*Hang on, Jason!* The reply came instantly. Another figure loomed up: the gigantic form of a Jilectan. Jason twisted uselessly in the mighty grasp which held him. Then the alien's large hand lifted him easily, and something hard struck him on the side of the neck. Stars burst before Jason's eyes, and faded slowly into darkness.
**********
"Blashvor! M'Lord Blashvor!" Fenton shook the Jilectan frantically with one hand, the other holding the blaster ready, alert for any sounds of approaching enemies. Blashvor groaned.
"M'lord, wake up! Please wake up! They're coming t'kill us! I can't hold 'em off forever! M'Lord!"
Blashvor groaned again. "Do not disturb me, Terran," he muttered thickly.
"Lord Blashvor! Please!" Fenton shook his master again, uselessly, then slapped his face gently.
No response. Gritting his teeth, and praying Blashvor wouldn't strike back automatically, Fenton slapped the Jilectan as hard as he could. Blashvor groaned, eyelids flickering. Anger emanated from his slowly awakening mind.
"Fenton? How dare you ...?"
"M'Lord, please wake up!" Fenton shook him again, then turned toward the window at a sound from without. Approaching footsteps. Fenton fired and there was a curse. The footsteps retreated quickly.
"M'Lord!"
"I am awake, Fenton." The Jilectan's voice was weak, but from the tone Fenton knew his master was aware of the situation. "What has happened?"
"They've got Jason. He was out of the car and shooting at them when I came to. I'd just pulled myself together when one of them got in a lucky shot and brushed him with a stunner. I think it was one of Dishvor's psychics. Then somebody ran up and grabbed him. I managed to wing him, but not before he'd got Jason back to your brother." Fenton gulped. "I'm sorry, sir."
"Trevor?"
"He's in the front. Just knocked out, I think."
"Was Jason hurt?"
"I don't think so, sir, but he's not answering me now. I think they knocked him out. I thought I felt it when we were communicating."
"I see." Blashvor stirred and groaned softly. "We must get out." The door behind the big alien slid open. "Guard the window while I get Trevor out. Then follow me."
"Yes, M'Lord." Fenton crouched at the, window again, aware of Blashvor climbing from the, car behind him, and the, door on the driver's side, sliding open. The same persistent fellow, who had already tried twice, was approaching the aircar again. Wishing far Jason's clairvoyant talents, Fenton aimed and fired again. The man cried out shrilly and went down.
"Come, my psychic," Blashvor said.
Fenton fired one more time, then scrambled across the seat and out into the alley beside his master. Blashvor was half crouching behind the aircar, the slack form of Trevor over his shoulders. Big and muscular as Trevor was, he appeared slight in the Jilectan's powerful grasp.
A shot crackled, warping the hood of the aircar. Fenton fired back, then turned to follow Blashvor as the Jilectan moved silently away through the darkness.
He moved at a crouching run, trying to be completely silent. In spite of his burden, the Jilectan moved lightly as a ballet dancer over the broken pavement. Fenton had to hurry to keep up, spine tingling as he thought of Dishvor, possibly sending his men to follow. Perhaps even now they were laying in ambush. Without Jason to warn them, he and Blashvor were nearly blind, since Blashvor possessed only minimal clairvoyant ability, and Fenton none at all.
"Stop," the Jilectan said suddenly.
Fenton froze, ears straining. Someone was approaching quietly down the alley. They were now out of range of those hiding behind Dishvor's downed craft, and Fenton could see nothing of their escort. What had become of them? What had become of the men who had been with Dishvor?
He brought his blaster up, clutching it between his hands, and stepping before Blashvor. Ahead there was a soft footstep. A voice spoke out of the darkness, shaking a little.
"Is that you, M'Lord? Don't shoot."
Fenton let out his breath. It was the voice of Winfred Lang.
"Lang!" Blashvor's voice betrayed his relief. "Come help us!"
"M'Lord!" Lang was beside them, reaching out to take Trevor from Blashvor's grasp. "You're hurt! Here, give me the 'trol. Fenton, can you help His Lordship?"
"I need no assistance." Blashvor surrendered Trevor into Lang's care. "Take us to your aircar, Lang, quickly."
"Yes sir. This way, sir." Lang maneuvered Trevor across his shoulders, grunting a little with effort, and strode ahead. Blashvor followed, and Fenton took up the rear, still watching behind them. As they reached the well-concealed aircar, he saw another craft lift above the building behind them and circle, great lights sweeping the darkness.
"Hurry!" he whispered. "If they see us now, we're dead."
Lang trundled Trevor inside and ushered Blashvor through. Fenton climbed in behind him, and Lang entered last, sliding the door shut. "Go!" he hissed.
The little craft swooped upward.
It was rather crowded in the rear seat, with Lang, Trevor, Fenton and Blashvor, but there was no more room in the front, into which were jammed five rather large Terrans, and a Procyon. The car rose sluggishly into the darkness, without lights, and the driver leveled them off, flying just above the buildings.
"Where's Jason, sir?" Lang inquired.
"Captured."
Lang swore softly. Fenton spoke. "Lord Blashvor."
"Yes, my psychic?"
"Did you know ... that Jason knows the coordinates of our base?"
"I am aware of that, Fenton."
"Dishvor's bound t'get it outta him."
"I am also aware of that."
Silence, broken only by the purr of the aircar's engines. Fenton bent over Trevor, hands exploring the big man's face in the darkness. He discovered a lump on his forehead at once, and Trevor's hair was matted together with blood.
"How is he?" Blashvor inquired.
"Still out cold, sir. We can't do much for him here. How are you, M'Lord?"
"I will survive." Blashvor spoke to the driver. "Raff, as soon as we are clear of this town, signal our ship to meet us."
"Yes sir."
The car flew in silence. Fenton glanced worriedly at Blashvor in the dimness, wondering if the Jilectan was blaming him. How could he have known that Trish was one of Dishvor's psychics? And Blashvor had wanted to find the girl almost as much as Fenton had.
"I am not blaming you, my psychic," Blashvor said suddenly. "But the harm is done, and now it must be rectified."
"Yes sir," Fenton said in a low voice.
Ten minutes later the aircar settled into an open field. Raff, at the controls, tapped out the signal on the car's communicator. They waited in silence.
It seemed an age before the scout ship arrived. Raff touched the controls and the little aircar moved forward to settle into the ships landing bay. Fenton opened the door and climbed out, glancing at his chronometer. It had been just over two hours since Jason's capture.
Trevor, still unconscious, was carried through the airlock and into the main body of the ship. He was placed on a bunk, and Fenton bent over him, noting a large, purple bruise on the man's forehead. Blood oozed from a cut on the hairline, matting the dark hair together
The ships engines deepened in pitch. There was a momentary heaviness of acceleration.
"Try to wake him up," Blashvor commanded. "If Jason is not yet in hyperspace, Trevor may be able to trace him for us."
Fenton nodded and went over to the latrine. He dampened a cloth, and returned a moment later to sponge the injured man's forehead. Trevor didn't move.
Fenton glanced at Blashvor, then looked again at Trevor. "Corporal Trevor! Wake up!"
No response. The scream of air against the hull was lessening. One of the men spoke from the control room. "Clearing the pull, sir. Shall I set for our base?"
"One moment, Angelo," the Jilectan said. He bent over Trevor, slapping him lightly on the cheek. "Wake up, Corporal!"
Trevor didn't respond. From the control room there came a shrill beeping sound. Fenton knew what that meant, and a moment later it was confirmed.
"Patrol cruiser, sir!" came Angelo's voice. "They're tellin' us t'lay to."
Fenton swallowed. Blashvor glanced around, obviously annoyed. "You cannot evade them?"
"For a while, sir. He's callin' for reinforcements, though. Whatcha want me t'do, sir?"
"Take us into hyperspace, Angelo." Blashvor turned back to Trevor.
"Yessir" Angelo vanished. Blashvor bent over Trevor again. "By the time he comes to, Dishvor will already be in hyperspace, or else we will be too far away, if we are not, already."
Fenton wasn't so sure. Trevor and Jason had already amazed him more than once. Somehow, in spite of his master's pessimism, he didn't believe distance could make that much difference, unless, of course, Dishvor had already managed to go into hyperspace. The last was a distinct possibility.
He bent over Trevor, at the same time removing a stimulant capsule from the emergency kit. There was a jolt as their ship converted to hyperspace.
"Bring us out in three minutes, Angelo," Blashvor said.
"Yes sir," came the reply from the control room.
Fenton broke the capsule beneath Trevor's note. Blashvor drew back, holding a lace handkerchief beneath his nostrils to protect himself from the fumes. Trevor coughed and jerked back, swearing weakly.
"Corporal Trevor," Fenton said. He shook him gently.
Trevor groaned. "Jason!" he muttered thickly. "Easy, kid! You're dreaming again ..."
"Corporal!" Fenton wiped the man's face again, sponging away the crusted blood.
Trevor muttered Jason's name again. His eyelids fluttered and opened.
"Trevor!" Blashvor snapped.
The Corporal stared upward, eyes glassy. "JASON!" His bellow shook the bulkheads. He sat up, clutching his head with both hands. "JASON! Hang on, Shorty!" He swung his feet to the deck. The Jilectan caught him, restraining him easily.
To Fenton's surprise, Trevor fought Blashvor, eyes wide and yet apparently unseeing. "JASON!" he bellowed. "Let me go, you damned Jil! JASON!"
Blashvor brought the big man's hands behind him in an armlock, and pushed him back face down on the bunk. Fenton bent over him, speaking soothingly.
"Corporal, take it easy. You're safe. Just cool down, okay?"
Trevor became still. "Fen? Is that you?"
"Yeah. Take it easy. You ain't a prisoner."
"Jason's caught!"
"Yeah, we know." Fenton glanced quickly at Blashvor.
"We gotta get him loose!"
"Relax, Corporal," Blashvor said. He released Trevor's arms. The corporal twisted around on the bunk to stare wildly up at the alien.
"How did you know Jason had been captured, Corporal?" Blashvor inquired.
"He's linked with me, sir! He's telling me."
"Indeed. That is quite impossible, Corporal. We are presently in hyperspace."
Trevor didn't seem to notice. He started upright, his eyes widening again. "He's aboard Dishvor's ship. He's scared stiff." He jerked convulsively, and abruptly his accent altered from the stiffly correct tones of Corala, to the soft, almost musical speech pattern of Bellian. *Trev, can you hear me? I'm aboard Dishvor's ship. Oh, Lord! You've got to hear me! Tell Blashvor I'm caught! They're taking me back to Dishvor's base of operations! I don't know where it is, but I'll try to find out! Tell Blashvor, Trev! Oh, please, you've got to be hearing me! We're already in hyperspace! I wounded Dishvor during the fight, and he's awfully mad! Trish says he's burned on his face. Oh, Trev, do you hear me? I wish you could answer!"
Blashvor reached down and shook the ex-patrolman roughly. "Trevor, this is impossible! We are in hyperspace!"
"I know, sir, but it doesn't seem to make any difference. I'm hearing him loud and clear."
"It is the blow to your head. You are hallucinating."
"No!" Trevor sat up. There was a jolt as the scout emerged from hyperspace again.
Blashvor pushed him back down. "Remain where you are, Trevor."
"I tell you, I can hear him!" Trevor's voice changed, and Fenton sensed anger and desperation. "He's talking to me!"
"I hear nothing, Terran," the Jilectan stated. "You believe, you are hearing his voice, but auditory hallucinations are quite common after a blow to the head..." He glanced at Fenton. "Do you hear anything, my psychic?"
"No, M'Lord," Fenton said reluctantly.
Trevor tried again to sit up. Blashvor pushed him back and pinned him to the bunk with powerful hands. Trevor strained against those hands, quite uselessly, of course, and swore furiously.
Then suddenly he again relaxed, and his accent altered again to the Bellian speech pattern. *Trev! I know where we're going! An Arcturian just came in, and I managed to read him! We're going to the Jafflee system! Dishvor's base is under a dome on a moon circling the sixth planet! Do you hear me, Trev? It's the Jafflee system: the sixth planet! It's the smallest moon: just a hunk of asteroid, really! We'll be there in two hours. Trev, here comes Dishvor! Oh m'gosh, he looks mean!* Trevor's voice rose hysterically. *Help me, Trev!*
"This is impossible!" Blashvor snapped, sounding almost angry. "Psychics cannot communicate while in hyperspace!"
"It's not impossible!" Trevor's accent was his own again. "You said it was impossible before, sir, when Jason insisted he was a better psychic when I was around. You were wrong then, and you're wrong now!"
Fenton drew in his breath sharply. Blashvor's face hardened. "I will tolerate no insolence, Terran!"
"It's the truth, dammit!" Trevor faced the Jilectan, and Fenton sensed anger, intermingled with apprehension. Blashvor's face was a frozen mask.
Trevor yelped suddenly and jerked beneath Blashvor's imprisoning hands. Fenton felt empathically transmitted pain from the other Terran at the same instant, as though heavy knuckles had struck him across the face. He heard his own startled cry, and saw Blashvor's eyes turn toward him.
"Fenton?"
"Dishvor's hitting him!" Trevor yelped again, and again Fenton felt a blow, this time on his other cheek. Trevor swore, face flushing red with anger. "Damn that Jil! He'll kill him! Ouch!"
Again, unbelieving, Fenton felt the transmitted pain from Trevor's mind. This was no hallucination, or if it was, it was the most convincing hallucination he had ever encountered. Fenton turned to Blashvor.
"Sir! He's telling the truth, I'm sure of it! Jason is communicating with him!"
Blashvor didn't answer, eyes on Trevor, expression unreadable, Trevor was shaking his head dazedly.
"Poor little kid," he muttered.
There was a pause. Then Blashvor stood up.
"We will go to the Jafflee system," he said. "Fenton, give the order."
"Yes sir!" Fenton ran for the control room.
**********
tbc
