Slave Race: 2/?
by Nan Smith and Linda Garrick
Loreen got to her feet and followed the pull of his hand.
For perhaps a minute she walked. The voices of the others faded, then ceased entirely. Ed's hands pressed her shoulders lightly and she settled into another seat. His footsteps crossed the room and she heard the sound of water running. A moment later he was back, and she felt his hand fumble at the blindfold, then loosen it. The wrap came free and she blinked, rubbing her eyes in the sudden illumination.
Ed was standing before her, and her first impression was that she was facing a child. He was very short, and she knew she must top him by at least half a head. He wore a mask, which concealed the upper part of his face. His eyes, through the holes in the mask, were brown, and his hair was also brown and softly wavy. He handed her a glass of water.
"Thank you." She took it and sipped from it, eyes on her captor. He was hardly big enough to keep her here by force if she were to make a determined effort to escape.
She heard him laugh. Of course, he was reading her mind. He could summon help in an instant if he so chose.
Why was he so interested in her, she wondered. She was hardly a girl to arouse passion in a boy simply by her presence.
The smile faded. He sat in a chair beside her, gaze never leaving her. She glanced around at the room with interest. She had expected a hovel of some kind--the hideout of delinquents and felons, but the room was neatly, almost luxuriously furnished, with large, vinyl easy chairs, a video, and a soft carpet on the floor. A large bed sat against one wall, a rosy bedspread over it, and handsome, if rather outlandish decorations covered the walls. Behind them, however, she could see barren, chipped plaster and paint. The building they were in was old and run down, but comforts had been added to make it quite attractive.
His eyes followed hers. "You like it?"
She nodded.
"It's my room. I fixed it up, myself."
"It's... very nice."
He leaned forward, elbows on knees. His body was small but well-muscled. She sensed a wiry strength in him. Perhaps it wouldn't be so easy to over power him after all.
Again his eyes smiled, and suddenly Loreen wasn't so sure she would want to try. He was sweet, in his own way, and rather charming, in spite of the fact that she was his prisoner.
"Do you have any suggestions?"
"A... about what?"
"The room. I'm not a decorator."
"Neither am I."
"No, but you're a female. Females usually have better instincts about such things than men."
Loreen studied the room. "A cover, maybe, on the dresser--and some knick knacks."
"What kind?"
She looked at her captor. "What kind do you like?"
"Animals, maybe?"
"You like animals?"
"Yeah."
"Then put figurines of animals on there."
"I'll keep it in mind." He leaned closer, eyes meeting hers frankly. "Lori, do you love this Cecil guy?"
Loreen caught her breath. "Yes, of course."
"No, you don't."
Anger pricked at the back of her mind. "How do you know? I tell you, I love him!"
"And I tell you, you don't. You're infatuated by his looks, and flattered by his attentions, but you don't love him."
"I do, too!"
"No you don't, and why should you? The guy's a jerk."
"You don't even know him!"
"I know what Cory told me. Is that your engagement ring?"
"Y... yes. I know it's not expensive, but..."
"Do you like it?"
Loreen hesitated. "Y... yes."
"Did Cecil ask you if it was the one you wanted?"
Loreen was silent, eyes on the floor. The carpet was a dull gold color with streaks of darker gold and honey brown... very tasteful.
"He didn't. I can see that. He's going through the motions, but he doesn't really care if you're happy or not. Don't you see? He doesn't want you to change your mind, so he's playing the good Joe, but he doesn't really care about your happiness."
"That's not true!"
"You know it is."
"And if it is, why should you care?"
Her protest died at the look in his eyes. He stood up quickly. His movements were quick and graceful--almost catlike. "I don't know why I should care, but I do. Maybe it's because, like most psychics, I'm an empath, and I hate to see a nice kid like you get hurt."
"I won't get hurt."
"You will if you marry that guy. I'm sure of it."
Loreen stood up, too. She was taller than he by at least ten centimeters, and probably weighed more. "And are you precognetic, too?"
His eyes smiled. "Precog. Not precognetic. No, I'm not."
"Then how..."
"Simple deduction. You're a sweet, sensitive kid, and you're marrying a self-centered creep."
"He's not!"
"Cory's a good judge of character. All psychics are." He shrugged. "Well, maybe you'll see the light before it's too late. Come over here."
"Why?"
"I'm going to have you write a note to your father." He paused. "Or do you think I'd get better results from Cecil?"
Loreen was silent. Ed sighed. "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair, was it?"
"No." Loreen approached and looked down at the writing desk. Ed placed a paper and a stylus before her.
"Okay, write what I tell you."
Loreen glanced sideways at her captor. "What would you do if I say no?"
An eyebrow went up. "You won't say no. You're too smart for that. You know that if you don't cooperate, you're no use to us."
"But you won't kill me. You said you were too soft hearted."
"I am, I guess, but there's other guys here besides me. Jake and Devin wouldn't care."
"You wouldn't let them hurt me, would you?"
"How would I stop them?"
"Cory stopped Jake in the car."
"Jake was being stupid, and he knew it. I'm their leader. They'll obey me because it's profitable for them. If they saw my empathy was making me too soft, they'd get rid of me and get 'em a new leader. Would you prefer to deal with Jake?"
Loreen picked up the stylus. "What do you want me to say?"
Ed stepped back from her. "Dear Dad,"
Slowly Loreen wrote what he dictated. "Dear Dad, I am being held prisoner by a gang of outlaws. They haven't hurt me, but they will if you don't do exactly as they say. They want money, and know you can supply it. Please obey the instructions they give you exactly, or I will be killed. I love you, Dad. Loreen."
Ed took the finished letter, glanced at it, folded it and slipped it into the hip pocket of the tight black pants he wore. Without another word he went to the door, went through, and closed it behind him. Loreen heard the key turn in the lock.
She let out her breath and sank her head forward onto her folded arms. For the first time since her abduction she felt the tears overflow, and sobbed unrestrainedly.
"Dad!" she whispered brokenly. "Dad, help me!"
Her mind went back then to her home--her parents. Her father, Gregory Cornwall, who had received an honorable discharge from the Viceregal Peace Patrol due to a crippling injury. He walked with the aid of a cane, and would for the rest of his life. Loreen's parents had met after his discharge from the Patrol 20 years ago, and, as her father had often told her, it had been love at first sight. They were married three months later. Loreen's mother, Alice, had borne twin girls a year later. The girls, christened Barbara and Loreen, were not identical. Barbara was small, with very black hair and eyes almost the same color--very like their mother, while Loreen looked more like their father. She had always envied Barbara's petite figure and her natural charm with men. She had married at 16, and her first child had been born only a month ago.
Stop! Stop thinking about it! She would get away. All she had to do was go along with them--comply with their wishes...
She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and saw Ed standing beside the door again.
The mask still covered the upper part of his face, but his eyes looked worried. He took a step forward. "Lori..."
She turned her back on him. "Please leave me alone."
He didn't speak, but neither did he obey her. He stood beside the door, watching her. Time stretched out between them.
At last she turned to face him again. "What do you want with me? You've got your note, and you'll get your ransom. Just leave me alone!"
His voice was quiet. "Is that what you want?"
"Yes!"
"Liar." He placed a bowl of steaming soup, a sandwich and a carton of milk on the table. "I was going to have dinner with you. Do you prefer to eat alone?"
"I..." Loreen stopped. No she didn't. Alone, despair would again engulf her. With Ed there, her mind was distracted.
He didn't wait for her to answer, apparently reading her mind before she voiced her thoughts. He went back to the door, opened it, picked up another tray from a table outside, and crossed the room to place his own dinner on the table across from hers. He pulled her seat out.
Loreen sat down. Ed took the seat across from her, picking up his spoon.
Through habit, Loreen bowed her head and folded her hands. She sensed, rather than saw Ed freeze, utensil in hand, until she had finished. Then she lifted her face, summoned a smile, and picked up her own spoon.
"It smells good. Who does the cooking?"
"Devin. That's how come the sandwiches. His girlfriend's a good cook. She fixed the soup last night. Try it."
Loreen did. Ed was right. It was excellent.
"Does Jake have a girlfriend?" she asked, just to have something to say. She didn't really care.
"Not a steady one. Jake's a womanizer."
That was no surprise. "I see. How about Cory?"
"He's got a couple. All the girls like Cory."
"I can understand that. And you?"
"Me?"
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
His lips smiled. "I'm not sure."
"What do you mean? You're a psychic. I thought you'd know everything."
"I do. Let's just say, the girl I'd like for a girlfriend isn't sure she wants me."
"She doesn't love you?"
"I think she does. She just won't admit it--not even to herself."
What was he trying to say? Loreen took another spoonful of soup, then a bite of the sandwich. The bread was fresh, and the meat inside was smoked marshhopper--very flavorful. "What's her name?"
"Ah, that would be telling." He laughed. "Like I said, she doesn't know, herself, yet, although she's beginning to suspect."
Loreen looked down at her food. "Really?"
"Yep."
"What does she look like?"
"She's beautiful--the most beautiful girl I've ever known."
Loreen felt a little silly. For a few moments there she had been wondering if he meant her. But, of course, no stretch of the imagination could label her beautiful--although Cory had seemed to think so.
She looked up. "Well, keep trying. I'm sure she'll come around."
"Do you think so?"
"Why shouldn't she?"
"I don't know." He smiled faintly. "Right now she's pretty mad at me."
"Why? What did you do?"
"I told her the truth."
"Why should she be mad about that?"
"The truth hurts sometimes."
"And this time it did?"
"Yeah."
"What did she do when you told her?"
"She denied it. But she knows I'm right."
Loreen looked down again. "Just tell me her first name. I'm sure I don't know her."
He laughed again. "Lori, you're wonderful! Did you know that?"
She stared at him, not knowing what to say.
"And you're very smart."
"Thank you. In what way?"
"In ten minutes you've figured out how to beat a psychic at his own game."
"What psychic? You?"
"Who else? You've figured out I'm talking about you, but you're afraid to say it, because you think you'll look silly if you're wrong. So you force it out of me--very cleverly, too."
"You were talking about me?"
"You bet."
"You want me for a girlfriend? I'm your hostage."
"Temporarily. If you'd like to take me up on my offer, I'll forget about the hostage business."
Loreen stared at the table. Was he joking? He must be--and yet his tone was very serious. "That's... crazy."
"It sure is. Well? What do you say?"
"I... I don't know. I'm engaged to Cecil, and besides, you're a..."
"A criminal?" He nodded slowly. "So I am."
"But you don't act like a criminal. I mean... you aren't like Jake or Devin. You're kind and... and sweet, and you talk like... like an educated person."
"But I'm a criminal, Lori. I'm a psychic."
That stopped her in her tracks. He was right. Psychics were all criminals. The Jils said so.
"And since I have the name, I might as well play the game. Right?"
"Wrong!" She stood up. "My mom says that stuff about psychics is all nonsense. It's propaganda put out by the Jils to turn Terrans against their own people--divide and rule. It's an old game. Why should Terran psychics be any different than other people? You and Cory sure aren't. If anything, you're a lot nicer."
He stared at her. "Lori, don't ever say that where other people can hear you. The Jils don't like psychic sympathizers."
"I won't. But it's true."
"You're right." He also stood up and began to pace back and forth. "Lori, you have more sense than any of us. If I only..." He broke off suddenly. "Holy space!"
"What's the matter?"
"We got trouble! Stay here!" He turned and ran from the room. The door slammed behind him.
Loreen stood stock still, staring after him. Somewhere far away there was a terrific crash. The walls of the room trembled.
Then a strange thing happened. A face formed before her eyes. She could see it, as clearly as if its owner stood before her. It was a face she almost knew... eyes she had seen before, only moments ago...
*Cory!* The name rang through her brain, bringing her forward across the room. *Quick! Bolt that door!*
It was Ed's voice. She saw the face turn, fear mirrored in every line. She heard faint shouts in the background, and saw the expression change. Somewhere another face hovered in the background, but she couldn't see it clearly. There was a sensation of running, and of someone gripping her around the neck. She cried out, reaching for her throat, but, of course there was nothing there. She was alone.
Ed was in trouble! How she knew, she couldn't say, but she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt. The grip on her throat loosened, and again she saw the other face, and had an impression of black hair and brilliantly blue eyes. Someone shouted again.
She started toward the door. Ed needed help, and she must give it. How, or why, she didn't question.
The door opened as she reached it, knocking her back. Two shaggy, bearded men entered the room. One of them glanced at her in surprise.
"Who the hell are you, baby?"
Loreen retreated, flattening herself against the opposite wall. The men advanced into the room, and one of them kicked over the table containing the food. He laughed as the other yanked the plush covering from the bed and tossed it into the spilled soup, rubbing his foot over it to rub the food in.
"Man!" he exclaimed. "These boys live well!" His eyes went to Loreen.
She tried to run. A hairy hand caught her wrist, yanking her around. She screamed, struggling uselessly.
Behind her someone shouted and she twisted her face around to see Ed, still with the mask over his face, leaping forward. Cory entered behind him, an also jumped forward. Loreen's assailant thrust her aside, turning to meet Ed's charge. Loreen slammed into the wall, the impact knocking the breath out of her. She saw Cory go by, locked in a furious embrace with one of the intruders, and Ed, circling the other, clutching a long, rusted pipe in one hand. His opponent, Loreen saw, grasped a naked knife.
Cory yelped, and Loreen saw that his opponent had him down and was sitting astride him. Cory was gripping the man's knife in both his own. Cory was far smaller than the man he was fighting, and Loreen realized instantly that his attacker would certainly prevail through weight alone.
Cory had helped her. She remembered his cool, commanding voice back in the car, telling Jake to keep his hands off. The fact that she wouldn't even have been there but for Cory and his companions never entered her mind as she leaped forward, grasping the first weapon in sight--the atomic powered lamp from the bedside table. She crossed the room in two steps and swung the lamp. It struck Cory's opponent on the back of the head. The man gave a strangled grunt and fell forward across his small adversary.
Loreen turned. Ed still circled his opponent warily. His bearded opponent leaped suddenly forward. As he did so, Ed swung the club. The bearded man took it on his left forearm. He howled in pain, but kept coming. Ed danced back out of range, and his opponent leaped after him. The rush caught Ed and threw him backwards. They landed in a grunting, swearing tangle against the wall.
Loreen threw the lamp. It struck the wall above their heads and the light went out, showering both of them with sparks. The bearded man flinched aside instinctively and Ed swung the club. It struck his opponent on the side of the head in a ringing clang. The man sunk limply to the floor.
In the sudden stillness that followed, Loreen became aware of running footsteps outside. Jake and Devin burst into the room and came to an abrupt halt, staring.
Ed stood up, dusting his hands on his pants. "What's going on out there?"
"We fought 'em off." Devin sounded breathless but triumphant. "They didn't have the guts for a real fight... stupid trenchies!"
Cory pushed the slack body of his erstwhile opponent away and rose a little unsteadily to his feet. He looked at Loreen.
So did Ed. His expression, concealed partly by the mask, was totally unreadable. Jake and Devin, she saw were not wearing their face coverings. Like a blow, she realized what that meant. She was a witness. She could identify them.
Jake said something under his breath and took a step toward her. Loreen involuntarily stepped back. Ed spoke up.
"She saved Cory's life. That guy had him down."
All eyes in the room were on her. Ed spoke again. "And maybe my life, too. She threw the lamp and distracted the guy I was fighting so I could get him."
Cory grinned suddenly. He wasn't wearing a mask, either, Loreen saw, and his face was very handsome--no, more than handsome. He was pretty, his features regular and almost delicate. His eyes were huge, the lashes long and curled. His brows arched above them like those of a Jilectan Lady.
"Thanks, honey," he said.
"Why did she do it?" Devin's question was bewildered and a little suspicious. He looked to Ed for the answer.
"I'm not sure." Ed looked at Loreen. "Why did you help us out, Lori?"
Loreen stepped back again, lowering her eyes. She wasn't sure why she had done it, and it didn't matter. If she had simply run, she would now be free. Her own stupidity had kept her a prisoner--and maybe now they would never let her go. She had seen them. She knew what Jake, Devin, and Cory looked like... and Ed, too. She had seen his face before her when he had been fighting the invading gang. It wouldn't hold up in court, but she knew what he looked like.
"She's seen us," said Jake. "She can put the drop on us."
"Jake's right," put in Devin. "What'll we do, Ed?"
Cory shifted restlessly, also glancing at the leader. "Why would she save our lives if she was going to put the drop on us?"
"It don't matter why. Maybe she figured if the Westsiders took her, she'd be worse off than she is now. The point is, she can fry us."
"She could have gotten away," Cory said. "The door wasn't locked. And Ed an' me were busy with those two guys."
"So why didn't she?"
"She doesn't know herself."
Loreen turned away. "I won't tell. I won't tell anyone. Please, just let me go."
Jake laughed shortly.
"Shut up, Jake," said Cory.
One of the fallen men groaned. Ed spoke sharply. "Jake! Dev! Get those guys out of here."
The two bigger boys stooped to pull the downed men up. Grunting a little with effort, they dragged their burdens to the door and out. Cory shut it behind them and turned back to look at Ed.
Silence, so thick you could cut it with a knife. Loreen's spine prickled. What would they do?
Ed smiled and approached to place his hands on her shoulders, gripping firmly but not painfully. "Well, Lori," he said, "you've turned out to be something of a surprise."
"What do you mean?"
"You're a psychic, yourself, aren't you?"
"Me? No!"
He frowned, then glanced across at Cory. The other boy shrugged.
"She shielded, maybe? You been stringing us along, honey?"
"What?"
Another glance at each other. Cory shrugged again. Ed nodded. "We'll be back, honey," he said, and went to the door, accompanied by Cory.
Loreen stood still in the center of the room for a moment, then bent to right the table, picked up the cloth and shook it out. It was, she noticed, fine Arcturian linen, edged with gilt. Very expensive.
The rug and bed throw were a mess of soup and mutilated sandwiches. She cleaned them the best she could, heaping the dishes on the table and picking up the remnants from the carpet. She might still be killed. She knew that, and yet, for some reason, hope was blossoming. She could still see Ed's face before her, and the memory brought a strange lightening of spirits. No matter what, he wouldn't let her be hurt. The idea was inconceivable.
Time passed. She wandered a round the room, examining things. There was a bathroom, old and decrepit as the rest of the building, but furnished with expensive articles, a fluffy rug, a gilt shower curtain and ornate pictures on the dingy walls. These boys apparently did well for themselves.
She got water from the tap and a fresh, fluffy towel to clean the rug and spread. Then, again, she paced the room. How much time had passed? She glanced at her chronometer. 2035. It was dark outside, then--the autumn day drawing to a close. Her father would have the police searching for her by now... the thought, instead of being comforting, was oddly disquieting. What would happen if Ed was caught? And Cory, too?
She knew the answer to that. On this crime-ridden world of Corala, there simply weren't enough jails to accommodate all the criminals. The death penalty was enacted swiftly for most serious crimes. And kidnapping and jewel theft certainly fell into the category of serious. There would be no trial. As soon as Loreen identified them as her abductors, they would be executed.
The thought went through her like the stab of a knife. She went over to the bed and sat down on it, holding her knees and trying to tell herself that it didn't matter. They were criminals. They had taken her by force. They had threatened her life. They intended to hold her for ransom. Why should she care what happened to them?
She didn't really, she told herself. It was only because Ed and Cory had been gentle with her that the thought of them being killed bothered her.
No, it was more than that. She couldn't deny it, try as she would. Ed attracted her, and Cory, also, to a lesser extent. Was it because they were psychics? *Had* she been brainwashed? The Jils said psychics could brainwash nons easily. Had it happened to her, so quickly and without her being aware of it? And what was it that Ed had said about her being a psychic? Nonsense! She was no criminal! Why, Loreen grimaced when a trenchcrawler was killed. She even carried spiders out of the house on a paper. So did her mother, for that matter, much to Mr. Cornwall's amusement.
The door opened and Ed entered alone. He shut it behind him.
Loreen sat still, eyes meeting his across the room. He still wore his mask, she saw, but she hardly noticed it. His features were sharp and clear before her eyes--as she had seen them in her mind a short time ago.
He reached up and removed the mask, crumpling it slowly in his hand. Yes, his features were those she knew. Her heart jumped as he stepped toward her and she stood up.
He smiled, and against her own will she smiled back.
"I'm going crazy, Lori," he said slowly. "I must be."
"Why?"
"I think I've fallen in love with you." He took her shoulders, held them, then drew her close. She was taller than he by at least ten centimeters, but it didn't seem to matter. In his arms she felt happy and secure. It didn't make sense. It was utterly foolish, but she couldn't help herself.
"Jake thinks we should kill you."
"I know."
"You've seen us. You can identify us."
Loreen didn't move. "But I won't."
"I know that. Don't worry about Jake. I can handle him."
"I'm not worried."
"The question is, what about you? I don't want you to marry that Cecil guy."
"I'm not going to."
"Would you marry me, instead?"
She let go and drew back to look at him. "How old are you?"
"Seventeen--same as you."
Common sense battered at the emotions washing over her. "I can't believe I'm thinking like this. I hardly know you."
"And besides, I'm a criminal." He finished her unspoken thought. "And your upbringing wouldn't allow you to marry a criminal."
She looked away. "I don't know. I've... never met anyone who makes me feel like you do."
He took her hand looking at it, fingers touching the engagement ring she still wore. "What if I wasn't a criminal? Would you marry me then?"
"But you are a criminal."
"What if I wasn't? You were right, Lori. It doesn't have to be this way. Psychic criminals simply reinforce the Jils' propaganda. I sure don't want to help out the Jils. So, suppose I renounce my evil ways and become a clean living citizen. Would you marry me then?"
"How would we live?"
"You think I can't get a job?"
"Have you ever had one?"
"When I was a kid, but it doesn't matter. I'm an empath. I know how to make my employer-to-be like me. I can get hired."
"What will you do?"
"Anything you want. Will you marry me, Lori?"
"You hardly know me, Ed."
"I know everything I need to. I've looked into your mind, and I've seen enough to know that you're the girl I've waited for all my life."
"You're life's only begun. You're only seventeen."
"There'll never be anyone else like you. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. And you feel the same about me."
Loreen opened her mouth to deny it, then stopped. It was true--stupidly, preposterously true! From the first moment she'd seen him, she'd been in love with him. Love at first sight? Such things supposedly only happened in fairy tales. Certainly not in this modern age of light speed travel and Jilectan domination.
He didn't speak, but Loreen stood motionless in his hold. She couldn't deny her feelings, and she could read the same feelings in his face. So this was what it was like to be in love.
He smiled, and his arms tightened around her.
"Let me tell you a little about myself," he said. "My full name is Edwin Rothchild White. Isn't that sickening? Call me Ed, okay?"
"Okay. But I like the name Edwin."
He paused for an instant, considering, then smiled. "I like it when you say it. Funny--I've always hated it before."
"Were you named after someone?"
"My father. His name was Edwin, and Mom's maiden name was Rothchild. He died when I was a baby. I don't remember him at all."
"Oh."
"Mom was left alone to raise me. Then, when I was about six, she died."
"How?"
"She got sick. That's all I know. We didn't have very much money, and couldn't afford a doctor. I took care of her until it was over."
Loreen swallowed. "How awful for you. What did you do then?"
He shrugged. "I had no relatives. I knew I'd get stuck in an orphanage if I didn't move, so I left town."
"You didn't have any relatives?"
"Mom had a brother, but he's a dope dealer. She never let me visit him, and now, after what I've seen of drugs, I know why. I knew he wouldn't want me, anyway, so I left town on an air freight car. I let it take me as far as it would. It brought me here, and I've never gone back."
"Where were you living before?"
"In Drevelle." He grimaced. "After I got here, I stole to survive. I found I had kind of a natural talent for it."
"Oh. Did you know you were a psychic?"
"Not then. Terran psychics weren't really verified until a year ago, remember?"
"Oh. Yes."
"But I knew I was somehow different from the rest of the population. I could do things, and I knew things no one else did--and I learned so fast. Mom was an educated lady--her dad had taught her, but he died when she was a teenager. She taught me what she could, and later I read books. I don't forget much. Then after I'd been on my own about a year I met Cory. We hit it off right away. Cory was the same age I was, and we sort of took care of each other. Cory'd run away from home when he was five. He doesn't remember his mother, and his stepfather used to get drunk and beat him. He'd been on his own for three years when we met. Then we joined up with Devin and Jake. They're brothers, you know."
"I guessed it."
"Not overly smart, but they provide the muscle power Cory and I don't have." Edwin smiled. "They aren't bad guys. They're loyal to Cory and me. Don't be afraid of them."
"I'm not."
"They were orphaned young--the usual story. No father. Their mother supported herself and her kids the only way she could. Then, one day her pimp got mad at her and hit her a little too hard. Jake and Devin were left on their own."
**********
tbc
