Volcano Island Ch 7
By Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
Ch 7
"This place is awful," Lyla Watson said, not for the first time. Alan had to agree with her, but he didn't say so. It was obvious that Mark, Stewart and Shelly weren't affected by the sensations that he and Lyla were picking up, but that was because they lacked the psychometric talent that he and Lyla had in abundance. Unfortunately, very little was known about psychometry, as very few Terran psychics were psychometrists, so dealing with it was pretty much a self-taught thing. The fact that Alan had the talent, Leroy Burke had told him, was probably the reason that he was such an outstanding psychic tracer. That might be true, but there was a lot more to it than that. Alan shuddered slightly at the feeling of the place. It was as if tiny fingers were plucking at his mind, trying to attract his attention, and over all was a sensation of fear and foreboding that made chills crawl over his scalp. He had used the ability before, but not in any situation such as this one. He tried hard to ignore the ghostly sensations nibbling at his consciousness. It was a matter of control, he reminded himself. The feelings were not, in themselves, harmful. Even so, he was keeping a light layer of mind shielding in place to mute some of the psychometric sensations that he sensed around them, and he knew that Lyla was as well.
Linley glanced down at him, a slight frown on his features. "You're linked with me," he informed Alan, unnecessarily. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing," Alan said. "Psychometric vibes. I'm not detecting any immediate danger."
"Oh," Mark said. "I keep feelin' jumpy. Is that you?"
"Probably." Alan kept his voice steady.
A large, tumble-down building, buried in creepers and shrubbery loomed off to their right. A tower of some kind had collapsed, and now projected at a crazy angle from the crumbling roof of the structure. He resisted the urge to put up his shields and started toward it. Mark followed behind and to one side of him, one hand on the butt of his blaster. The two female psychics trailed Mark, and Jeff Stewart brought up the rear, keeping a watch behind them. Alan could hear the motion of small animals in the concealing vegetation, and there was the hint of larger and more predatory things not far away. The wildlife in the area was somewhat wary of them, but not by much, he thought. It must have been some time since there had been any humanoid creatures on the island.
The underbrush and the trailing vines and creepers were growing thicker as they advanced. Alan unfastened the machete that dangled on his belt and slashed at a mat of vegetation that effectively barred his path. Mark moved forward, his own machete in one hand.
"This is gonna be fun," he remarked. "The sun's gonna be down in a little while. Cuttin' our way through this stuff will be damn well impossible." He, too, slashed at the wall of greenery, clearing a path for his companions. "Hope there aren't any poison snakes in this stuff."
"If there are, our boots should protect us," Shelly remarked. Linley grunted.
The light dimmed abruptly as the sun dipped behind a bank of clouds on the horizon. Alan said nothing. The thought of searching who knew how many square kilometers of dense jungle and crumbling buildings for hours on end was not a pleasant thought, but if they managed to find the archives ahead of the Patrol it would certainly be worth it. He didn't have to like it.
They reached the building at last and entered warily. The place was dim and the floor overgrown with vines. Vegetation poked up between cracks in the battered surface and small creatures skittered away at their approach. Scattered rubble crunched under their boots. A small six-legged creature covered in shining pink scales darted away from them and vanished through a crack in the wall.
The ghostly sensations intensified as Alan entered the building and he closed his eyes, fighting the sensations of doom and disaster that engulfed him. He felt smothered and had to force himself to breathe. It was just the aura, he reminded himself firmly. There was nothing in here now that could harm them.
Lyla gasped and took a backward step, colliding with Jeff Stewart. She gave a little scream and clapped a hand over her mouth.
Stewart half-drew his blaster. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing," Alan said, aware that his voice had a tendency to crack. "It's just the aura of the place. I think I've figured out why we're feeling like this. Remember, this was a Jil city. It was inhabited by psychics who were engaged in a war. They probably went out violently in the end. Lyla and I are bound to pick up on a lot of the emotions."
Lyla nodded shakily. "I can't stand it!"
"Why?" Stewart asked. "What do you feel?"
Alan answered for her. "The whole place has a bad feel to it. It's worse inside the buildings -- this one, anyway."
"But what is it?"
"I feel sadness," Lyla said. "And hopelessness."
"Menace," Alan said.
Lyla shuddered. "It must have been terrible for them."
Alan looked at Stewart. "It's real to us, Jeff. I think I'm starting to get a handle on it, but it's tough. I've never been in any place where it was this intense before."
"I can see that," Stewart said. He put a free arm around Lyla. "Maybe you should put up your shields if it's this bad. Just lower them if we find a place that looks likely."
Lyla shuddered but shook her head. "I'm trying to channel it like Lee told me," she said.
Alan forced a smile. "Put your shields up when things get too difficult," he suggested. "Try it for a few minutes, just to give yourself a short break."
"We'd better get goin'," Mark suggested. "The Leviathan's gonna be arrivin' any minute."
Alan forced himself to nod easily. "All right. Let's get out of here. This isn't a library."
The sensations abated as they left the building, and Alan felt his shoulders relax. Another building, equally smothered in jungle growth, projected from the greenery some distance ahead and he pointed toward it. "Let's try that one."
They made their way slowly toward the structure, Linley swinging industriously with his machete. As they approached, a doorway became evident in the crumbling, gray surface, beyond which they could see little. The sun was almost gone, and the jungle growth was touched with reddish light.
Linley extracted his hand light and shined it through the opening.
A littered, broken surface met their gaze. Alan approached it, his clairvoyant senses scanning, hampered somewhat by the psychometric sensations that pummeled him from all sides.
A loud "boom" shook them and the ground began to tremble. Alan staggered slightly and jostled against his partner. "Oops! Sorry!"
Linley stood with his feet apart, grasping the trunk of a sapling as their surroundings shook. Alan grasped one of his arms and reached out to brace Lyla. Shelly and Jeff were also grasping small trees.
Slowly, the tremor subsided. It probably hadn't gone on more than ten seconds, Alan thought. It just seemed longer.
"Wow!" Shelly said. "No wonder this place is in ruins! I'm surprised anything is still standing at all if this is the norm around here."
"It was just a little tremor, Shell," Linley said. "Shallock has 'em all the time. Let's go check this place out."
"Right." Alan led the way into the building.
It was very dark inside, except for a pale beam of pinkish light shining through a hole in the roof. Linley flashed his light around, and Alan extracted his own handlight to flash it about the room. Jeff also snapped on his light.
The beams illuminated crumbling shelves and cabinets lining the walls. The floor was littered with stones and dried pieces of bone. A large, humanoid skull grinned at them from one corner.
"A laboratory of some kind," Jeff said. "Sure doesn't look like a library."
Alan nodded. The aura here wasn't as strong as the one in the first building but it was bad enough. He was glad to step out of the structure into the rapidly fading light of the planet's sun. As he did so, the ground quivered and began to shake. Bits of stone and gravel pattered behind them as they hurried down the steps into the open. After a second or two, the shaking ceased.
The light was fading rapidly now, and within a few minutes the sky had darkened noticeably. The glow had almost vanished from the western horizon and stars were beginning to appear in the sky visible through the leaves and branches overhead, but to the north and northwest the red glow of the volcanoes lit up the sky. Looking around, Alan now became aware of another glow, much fainter, in the sky to the northeast. Probably another volcano, he thought. There sure seemed to be a lot of them. Maybe it had something to do with the war this planet had gone through.
There was another building some distance farther on, and another beyond that. Well, there was nothing to do but keep going, Alan told himself. The Library was somewhere in this area -- of that he was sure -- but the whole aura of the place threw off his clairvoyance enough that much of this was going to be a manual search. Sooner or later, they would find it.
If the Patrol didn't find it first.
He started toward the next building, Mark slashing a path through the luxuriant jungle growth. As they drew nearer Mark's light revealed that this structure was in better shape than the previous ones that they had investigated.
All of them jumped convulsively as a hair-raising scream sounded off to their right. It was succeeded an instant later by a low, rumbling growl and then another scream. The sound was almost human and Jeff whipped out his blaster, starting toward it.
"No!" Shelly caught him by the arm. "It's an animal."
Linley had started forward, too. "Like hell it is! That's a girl's scream!"
The sound came again, coupled with a series of agonized gasps and sobs. Alan grabbed Mark's arm. "No, Mark! Shelly's right. It's an animal."
Linley stopped, turning to look at Alan. "Are you sure?" He grimaced. "Course you're sure. If it was a girl, you'd be runnin' to help, too."
Another scream, and the sound was cut off abruptly. A fierce growl punctuated the sudden silence.
Mark let out his breath. "C'mon, folks."
They tore and slashed their way toward the building, stumbling on scattered stones and half-hidden rubble. Mark, in the lead, came to a sudden stop with a jarring bump. He swore lividly.
"What's the matter?" Alan asked.
"It's a damn forcefield," Mark said.
"A protected building!" Shelly exclaimed. "Maybe it's the library!"
"That'd be convenient," Mark said skeptically. "The Leviathan ain't even here yet. It'd be nice if we could be gone before Pomothvor gets here."
Alan felt his way along the unseen wall. He knew the mechanism to neutralize the field was probably close by. He just had to locate it.
He saw it suddenly, sharp and clear in his mind and came to a sudden stop. Mark bumped into him.
"You find it?" he inquired.
"Yes. Just a minute." Alan concentrated, forcibly ignoring the psychometric sensations tugging at his consciousness and felt the tiny mechanism move. The unseen wall beneath his hands dissolved and vanished.
"Good job!" Linley started toward the building, flashing his light around. Alan started to follow and paused abruptly as the gloom and dread settled abruptly over him. This building was worse than either of the other two. Lyla gasped and fell back. Linley glanced back.
"What's the matter?"
"Come on, Lyla!" Jeff sounded a little impatient. "It's just an old building."
She shook her head. "I can't. You go ahead. I'll wait here."
Mark jerked his head at Stewart. "Stay with her, Jeff. We'll go check it out."
"I'll stay with her," Alan said. "You go check."
Linley took his elbow. "If it's the library we're gonna need you. C'mon."
"If you think it might be, come and get me."
"I ain't leavin' you out here. It's just an old buildin'. No reason to be nervous." He started toward the doorway again.
Alan couldn't admit that he was afraid to Mark. After all, there was nothing really that could hurt him, he reasoned. Just that overpowering sensation of doom and disaster that radiated from the structure which was the remnant of events centuries past. Slowly, he followed his partner.
The sensation intensified as he mounted the steps. Despair and loss rushed over him, and the aura of menace felt as if it were swallowing him alive. He saw Linley glance at him sharply.
He stopped. There was death behind those doors. Ancient, terrible death. He was not going into that building. Not for anything.
"I can't go in there, Mark." He spoke firmly. "I'll be no use to you. I'll stay out here with Lyla. Go on without me."
"Why not?"
"I can't," he repeated. He turned and strode down the steps. "It's the aura of the building. Jeff, you go in with Mark. I don't think there's anything alive in there, but watch yourselves anyway."
"I'll go with you," Shelly told her husband. "Alan's right -- there's nothing alive in there but maybe some bugs and mice and lizards or something."
"Mice and lizards?"
"This world's equivalent, anyway. Come on."
After a short hesitation, Mark nodded and started toward the doorway again, Shelly and Jeff behind him. Lyla looked deliberately away from the building. Alan closed his shields for half a minute to give himself a moment to breathe and then opened them again, trying to force himself to face the onslaught of psychometric impressions squarely. This wasn't working, he realized. His psychometric talent was almost more of a handicap than a help. He had to find some better way to deal with it or he was going to be virtually paralyzed by the sensations of beings long dead.
It didn't make sense, Alan told himself firmly, that he should possess such a talent and be unable to handle the impressions that it sensed. There had to be some way to control it, rather than letting it control him. Lee Burke had said the same thing, but the solution had never presented itself.
The onslaught was not actually aimed at him, he knew. He was picking up the thoughts and emotions of the Jilectans that had lived here in the last days of this world's civilization. He needed to separate himself from them, not block them out. Perhaps, he thought, others with this talent who were not psychically trained, might deal with the problem better than he was doing, simply because they had no other defenses to fall back on. What would happen if he simply shut down his shielding and let whatever was picking up the sensations function as it needed to? As far as he knew, no one had ever tried that before. At this point, he didn't see how it could hurt.
In the back of his mind, he knew that desperation was probably driving him, but stranger things had happened with psychic powers. They had a way of solving problems without the conscious effort of their owner, if they were allowed to. It was worth a try.
The thought was intimidating, but the things he was experiencing trying to halfway deal with this onslaught were worse. He glanced at Lyla Watson, trying to formulate what he was going to say into something that actually made sense.
"Lyla, I'm going to try something. I want you to keep alert for any threat while I do it. All right?"
She swallowed. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to try to get this under control. I can't explain right now. Just stay alert, all right?"
"All right." She glanced briefly toward the building. "I wish they'd come back."
"They've only been gone about three minutes," Alan said. "Are you ready?"
She nodded jerkily. Alan also swallowed and closed his eyes. Then, with an effort, he dropped his shields completely, even the light ones that he had used to keep the worst of the impressions at bay, allowing the ghostly sensations to sweep in on him.
At first, the feeling was wild chaos. He had to forcibly prevent himself from erecting his shields at once to block them out. It was if a thousand voices gibbered, screamed, shouted and cried at him, and the emotions of fear and despair almost overwhelmed him, but he forced himself to keep his shields down, telling himself that no matter how terrifying, they could not harm him. It was nothing but an echo out of the past. It couldn't hurt him unless he let it.
He held it and held it for what seemed an eternity, trying to find a way to prevent the sensations from affecting him so intensely. It seemed impossible, and he nearly raised his shields in despair, when he became aware of a change.
Gradually, the sensations were separating themselves from his emotions. Encouraged, he waited, gritting his teeth, letting whatever part of his psychometric talent was changing to complete itself. All at once, it was as if the impressions had been shut away from his mind by a thin but impenetrable barrier. They were still there, pounding on the new psychic wall for admittance, but they were no longer overwhelming his mind. He could sense them, but it was a different feeling, and he knew that somehow the very talent that allowed him to sense these things had given him his defense. They could not affect him unless he allowed it.
It wasn't mind shielding, he thought. Mind shields required no psychic ability. This did. It was part of his talent that he had never known about before because the necessity had never arisen. It was if some part of his brain had channeled the invading sensations onto another frequency that was equipped to handle them. The relief was so sudden and intense that he felt almost dizzy.
He opened his eyes. Lyla was sitting still, turning her head right and left, watching as he had directed her to do. A glance at his chronometer told him that the whole process had taken less than five minutes.
He spoke quickly. "Okay. You can relax."
She turned quickly toward him, drawing a relieved breath. "Are you done? What did you sense?"
He glanced toward the building, sensing at once the clear impressions of Mark, Jeff and Shelly. The terrifying sensations of a few moments ago were no more than a minor tickle at the back of his mind.
"I figured out how to handle the psychometric vibes," he told her. "It's easier than you think."
"Show me!" she commanded at once. "I mean, would you show me how, sir?"
Alan chuckled. "Sure." He reached out telepathically, touching her mind through its light layer of defensive shields. "This is what I did …."
Lyla's eyes widened as he let her feel the process that he had endured to complete the talent's development. She swallowed.
"Do you think you can manage it?" Alan asked levelly.
Lyla nodded jerkily. "I think so -- as long as you stay right with me."
"Don't worry about that," Alan said. He extended a hand. "Hang onto me. It might help."
She clasped his hand in a grip that belied her slender frame. "Okay. Here goes." She squeezed her eyes shut and he felt her drop her shields. Her hand contracted like a vise on his.
Alan was completely silent, aware now of what she was enduring. The grip on his hand became almost painful but he didn't attempt to free it from her grasp, but instead kept his mind alert for anything that could pose a threat to them while Lyla Watson completed her psychometric defense.
The three figures of their companions emerged from the dark doorway of the building, shining their lights around. Mark flashed his light over the two psychics and Alan held a finger to his lips.
Lyla gave a great gasp, as if she had been holding her breath -- which she probably had been, he realized -- and opened her eyes. She stared at Alan in astonishment.
"Wow!" she said.
"What's goin' on?" Linley asked, clearly puzzled at the complete change in the two psychics.
"Alan -- Colonel Westover, I mean -- figured out how to handle what's been happening," Lyla said, still looking at Alan with that astonished expression. "It's incredible!"
"In ten minutes?" Jeff said, clearly skeptical.
"Psychic powers sometimes work that way," Alan said. "If you let them work by themselves, sometimes they solve the problem for you." He turned his head abruptly. "Do you hear that?"
"What?" Mark asked, half-drawing his blaster.
"I think the Leviathan's coming."
Lyla frowned. "I don't -- oh, now I hear it."
Jeff sighed. "I don't, but that doesn't mean anything."
"I hear it too," Shelly said.
A faint roaring sound was gradually becoming audible, and now the lights of the descending battlecruiser came into view, glowing brightly against the darkness. Jeff swore.
"It's landing right on top of us!"
Shelly grabbed his arm. "No it isn't. Look."
Stewart relaxed. "Of course not. It couldn't be."
The ship drew nearer as they watched and vanished behind jungle growth off to their left, perhaps two kilometers distant. The noise of the engines increased to an earsplitting level and then ceased abruptly. The muffled "boom" from one of the volcanoes a few seconds later was almost an anticlimax. The ground trembled slightly.
"Pomothvor's going to be searching for the library," Alan said. "We'd better hurry. We're going to have to put up our shields soon. If he senses a Terran psychic the fat'll be in the fire." He nodded toward the building. "I guess you didn't find anything in there."
Linley shook his head. "A bunch o' busted machinery and lotsa bones. No archives. Beats me what went on in there that shook you an' Lyla up."
"I don't know, either. Something happened in there, a long time ago, that must have been pretty bad but I can't tell what it was."
Stewart glanced left in the direction the battlecruiser had vanished. "Do you think we should get our shields up? That Jil's going to be scanning soon."
Mark looked at Alan. "What do you think?"
Alan sighed. "He's right. This is going to be an awful search without clairvoyance and in the dark, too. All right, everybody. Shields up. Lyla, take quick peeks when we come to buildings. Come on."
They started on once more, Alan leading. Stewart, who was taking rear point, remarked, "I wonder if Pomothvor will risk his golden hide in this place."
"Not likely," Mark said cynically. "He'll send out a bunch o' expendable 'trols to look around for him. He doesn't know that we're here yet, remember. If we can keep it that way, our chances of findin' these archives are gonna be a lot better. So lay low, kids, an' keep those shields up."
They continued on. The glow from the distant volcanoes seemed to be brightening, probably because it was still growing darker, Alan thought logically. Something roared loudly not far away and Shelly gasped faintly. A loud clacking sounded overhead and there was a rustling and then a frantic flapping of wings. Something large and pale swooped away into the darkness.
"Lotsa night life," Linley remarked. "Stay close together, everybody."
The ground jolted, and Alan staggered slightly. Mark swore between his teeth.
The next building was a low, sprawling structure, half caved-in and surrounded by a crumbling wall. As they approached, a dark, bulky shape materialized suddenly in the doorway before them. Two reddish orbs glowed in the beam of Mark's handlight. Linley removed the blaster from his holster, regarding the creature warily.
It stood still, watching them. For the slow count of ten, nobody moved. Then Mark cleared his throat. "Well kid, what do we do now?"
"I'm not sure," Alan said. Mark's light played over the thing, revealing reddish fur hanging in tangled clumps from long, apelike arms. It was almost as tall as Linley, and red whiskers dangled from its chin, reaching easily to the bulging midriff. The generously fanged mouth opened, and it laughed hoarsely.
"Damn!" Mark said. "What do I do, kid?"
Alan swallowed, lowered his shields and stepped forward. The animal wasn't hostile; he was sure of that much.
"Please excuse us." He spoke as politely as possible. "We need to go by."
White teeth flashed and again the thing made an odd chuckling sound. Then, to Alan's unutterable astonishment, it stepped courteously to one side.
"Come on," he said softly and went past it, his neck prickling. The others followed, blasters held at ready. The thing watched them, chuckling softly. When they had passed, it turned silently away and vanished into the jungle. Jeff flashed his light over the spot.
"Think it'll come back?"
"I don’t know," Alan said. "He's not a bad fellow, anyway. Better than most 'trols I've met."
"Watch it, kid," Mark said ominously.
Alan laughed. "Present company excepted, of course."
"Yeah," Jeff said. "You know, this place reminds me of a planet I was on about five years ago. I'd just made corporal and we'd been sent to look for an Undergrounder who'd supposedly made a crash landing there."
"Did you find him" Shelly asked, interested.
"Never even got a glimpse of him," Jeff said. "I got teamed up with this young kid -- a third classer, and scared half to death. His name was Calligan, I think. Some big, hairy critter jumped me and the poor kid panicked -- blasted the thing about fifty times. I ended up in the infirmary with most of the hair scorched off my head and a big burn on my back." He laughed. "Poor Calligan was so upset about it I didn't have the heart to say anything. In fact, I thanked him for saving my life. He felt better after that, and told me confidentially that he thought probably that one or two shots would have finished the thing and that he'd gotten a little carried away."
Linley snorted and Alan found himself laughing as well.
There was no forcefield surrounding this building to halt their progress, and they entered the structure, flashing their lights around.
The beams revealed crumbling walls, a floor littered with debris, bones, teeth and sprinkled with yellow balls about the size of marbles. Shelly bent and picked one up.
"What is it?" Mark inquired.
"I don't know. It looks like it might be a seed of some kind." Shelly dropped it into the pocket of her coveralls. "Well, this doesn't look like a library to me."
Jeff cussed. "This is going to take all night!"
"We might have better luck in the mornin'," Mark suggested hopefully.
Alan shook his head. "Pomothvor might have located it by then. We need to keep looking."
Linley sighed. "Whatever you say." He turned toward the exit and stopped, swearing.
The apelike creature had returned and was standing in the crumbling doorway, watching them. Jeff stepped back, his blaster leveled at it.
"Okay, Colonel," he said tightly. "Do your stuff."
Alan stepped up to the thing, extending a cautious hand, palm up. "May we go by, please?" he inquired.
The creature chuckled and long hairy arms reached out with blurring speed, encircling him and lifting him effortlessly from the ground. Alan gave a surprised yelp as he found himself clasped snugly in the creature's powerful arms. A long, wet tongue rasped across his face from chin to forehead.
Then it was setting him carefully on his feet once more. A large, hairy paw patted him gently on the head.
Mark grabbed him and pulled him back, his blaster covering the thing. "You okay, kid?"
Alan nodded, a little dazed. "She didn't hurt me." He wiped his face with both hands. "Wow! What a kiss!"
Mark began to laugh. "She? I always knew you had a way with women, kid, but really!"
Alan flushed. "I think she's about to be a mother, Mark."
Shelly giggled.
"You can't fool us, kid," Jeff said. "She's in love with you."
Alan laughed suddenly. "Come on. We'd better go."
"If she'll let you!" Mark snorted.
The creature squatted on its haunches and picked up one of the yellow balls, cracking it between its teeth. As Alan went past, it reached out again, patting him tenderly on the head. Jeff snickered.
**********
tbc
