This is one of the stories in the Terran Underground universe. It is the sequel to "A Family Resemblance" and occurs a year and eight months later, approximately one month after "Shell Game". For anyone who hasn't read this series of stories before, I recommend you read the introduction to "Slave Race", located here: http://www.lcficmbs.com/ubb/ultimatebb.php?ubb=get_topic;f=4;t=000002
That should give you most of the background you need to understand the premise for the series.
Copyright statement: This is an original work by the authors. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is unintentional and coincidental. The writers retain all rights to this work, and the copyright may not be infringed.
Violence Warning:
The initial parts of the story include a hostage situation and contain some violence and mild profanity.
A Woman's Touch: 1/?
By Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
1
New Devonshire was a beautiful planet, Angela Westover thought. She sat back in the seat of the aircar as they cruised lightly through the air over the "city" of New London, which was more of a rural town if you judged it by Terra's standards. The planet reminded her a lot of Liskell, the world that had been her home before her father had made a drastic mistake with the stock market and brought himself to the attention of the Jilectans. The aliens, always alert for possible Terran psychics, had targeted the Westover family, and they had been forced to flee for their lives.
At the controls, her psychic power pack, Kevin Bronson, rested a large hand over hers where it lay on the seat. "Tired, baby?"
She smiled at him. "A little. I'm glad we're finished with the assignment."
"Me too." His hand closed around hers, engulfing it completely. "How about dinner out tonight? You hungry?"
"That would be nice. Do you have enough cash?"
"Probably not." He pulled out his wallet and flipped through it. "Nope. I'm broke."
"There's a New London City Bank right over there," she said, nodding to the right. "Take us down. I'll get us some cash."
"Aw, this was gonna be my treat."
"You can pay me back at base. I won't let you forget."
"Well, okay." He maneuvered the car down with one hand, the other still holding Angela's. She gently wormed her fingers free, trying to be tactful and not hurt his feelings. Bronson had once been a Subcommander in the Viceregal Patrol, and his behavior toward women was frequently less than honorable. Terra's code along those lines was somewhat different than the attitude that prevailed in the Jilectan Autonomy where females, even of the Jilectan species, were subordinate to the males. Kevin had propositioned her more times than she could count, and a little encouragement once before had led to a wrestling match. Angela had slapped him then, and neither of them had ever forgotten it. He had behaved with perfect propriety since. She knew that he loved her, but she also knew that he frequently dated other women who were more accommodating. That hurt, but she would not compromise her values. And besides, Angela's mother didn't like Kevin.
The car settled before the bank and Bronson cut the engine, turning toward her in the same motion, his expression a mixture of annoyance and regret.
"Honey, for the luvvamike, how many times do you want me to apologize?"
Angela felt her face grow warm. "I don't want apologies, Kevin."
"Ever since that business, you act like I'm gonna assault you every time I touch you ... ah hell, I'm sorry. Don't cry, honey, please!"
"I'm okay." Angela felt the infuriating tears flood her eyes and blinked them back. She must get away from him. A few minutes alone and she would regain her control. Blindly, she fumbled for the latch on the door. "I'll go get the cash, Kevin."
"Honey, please don't act like that. Oh dammitall! Go on. Run away. Go back to your mother!"
Angela pushed the door open and scrambled out, the tears overflowing and running down her face. She heard Kevin cursing under his breath as she fled toward the bank.
She paused before it, wiping her eyes with a tissue and trying to regain control. How had her lovely moment of peace and contentment deteriorated so suddenly and disastrously? Anger at Kevin and herself, memory of a six-month-old hurt ... the images raged through her mind. Why was it always like this? She loved Kevin, and he loved her. He knew she was shy and inhibited, so why did he always demand more than she was able to give?
Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she should date around. Kurt McDougal was attractive and fun, and with him there was no romance involved -- not on her part, anyway. Romance always complicated things.
People were looking curiously at her and she knew Kevin was watching from the car. Well, she couldn't stand here forever. With a deep breath, she stepped before the door, which opened obligingly.
Uneasiness crawled over her as she entered the bank's main lobby, with its two tellers, the row of computers, the ATM, and four bored-looking security guards lounging in the corners. New London was the largest settlement on New Devonshire, and this was the largest bank, but 25,000 people really wasn't much as cities go and there were only about a dozen persons in the bank besides herself and the employees. She joined the line of four other persons before the ATM, hardly noticing what she was doing. Tears of anger and self-pity still pricked behind her eyes. She couldn't go back to the car now. The argument would simply resume. Maybe if she just waited a while, he would give up and leave. She could take a taxi to within walking distance of the station.
Again, uneasiness crawled over her, stronger now. What was it? A warning? Or was it simply her dread of returning to the battle with Kevin?
The line moved slowly, for which she was glad. The computer seemed to be giving the patrons difficulty, and she saw the woman currently wrestling with it hit the panel with her fist with an exclamation of frustration.
Angela shifted uncomfortably, her spine prickling. The sensation crystallized suddenly into genuine fear. This was no dread of facing Kevin again. This was genuine danger.
Angela deserted her spot in line and made for the door.
"All right, everybody freeze!"
It was a harsh, commanding voice. Angela obeyed as a figure appeared through the door, a stockinette cap concealing his face, and a blaster clutched before him in both hands. Two similar figures entered behind the first.
Angela obeyed at once. Perhaps, if she were very still, the criminals wouldn't notice her. Somebody screamed shrilly.
"Shut up!" The three men were fanning out, two of them covering the customers with their blasters while the third approached the teller window. "Okay; no trouble and nobody gets hurt. Put the cash in the bag."
One of the other men waved his blaster. "Everybody down on the floor!"
Angela started to obey. From one of the teller windows there was a curse and the sound of a blow. She looked around to see the man behind the window slump slowly across the counter.
"He triggered an alarm!" the man who had struck him shouted.
"The cops'll be here soon," one of the men covering the customers said. "Hurry!"
"You heard the man." The man by the teller window thrust his bag at the next teller. "Move!"
Angela lowered herself face down on the floor and waited, her spine prickling.
**********
Kevin Bronson, left alone in the car, glared after Angela as she half-ran toward the bank. Dammitall! Why did the girl he loved have to be such a cold fish?
No, that wasn't fair. Angela was anything but a cold fish but sometimes her behavior could be so frustrating! Ever since that one, stupid episode, she had been ten times worse, not even wanting him to hold her hand.
Kevin grimaced at the memory. It had been a warm, beautiful night on Lavirra, and he had had a little too much to drink. Angela and he had taken a walk in the starlight after dinner and he had kissed her. Something in the way she returned the kiss had made him believe that she really wanted him to make love to her. He had tried and found himself with a struggling, weeping girl who had slapped him hard enough to jar away the cobwebs of alcohol. He had apologized at once for the incident, and many times since, but Angela's reserve never wavered. What had happened just now demonstrated vividly that she no longer trusted him.
Damn it! There were other girls, of course, and Kevin dated around, but Angie was the only one he gave two hoots about. Why couldn't she just forget that unfortunate incident and trust him again? He would never do it again, that was for sure. She must know how sorry he was. She was a psychic, and one of her strongest talents was empathy.
And she was such a desirable girl -- beautiful, really, although many of the other men at the base didn't think so, from what he had overheard. Angela was cute, but too shy and inhibited to make pursuing her worthwhile. Kurt McDougal was the only man at the Nova Luna Base besides Kevin, who had ever dated her, and according to Kurt, his luck had been even worse than Kevin's. Angela hadn't even allowed him to sneak a kiss during the movie.
Kevin frowned, watching as Angela vanished through the doors of the little bank. When he had heard Kurt speaking of his ill-luck, he had cornered him, and seething, warned him to stay away from Angie. And the intrepid, young captain had laughed at him and told him that when Kevin and Angie were formally engaged, then and only then would he quit dating her. He liked her too much to let Kevin scare him away -- especially since he knew that Bronson dated at least a dozen girls besides Angie. If this were the Autonomy, Kevin might have been able to get away with that kind of behavior, but Terran culture was different. Angela had the right to date whoever she chose, as long as Kevin did the same.
Bronson stared morosely at the dashboard. What would he do if Kurt and Angie became attached? Logically, Kurt was a better match for her than Kevin. They were both Terran born, with upper middle-class backgrounds. They were better matched when it came to height, too. The top of her head exactly reached young McDougal's shoulder, while Kevin towered over both of them. Why, McDougal barely reached *his* shoulder. Sometimes, he wondered if his very size compared to hers wasn't a stumbling block in their relationship. It must be frightening, anyway, to be that small, and then to have someone of Kevin's size become aggressive with her ...
He shook off the thought. She had to know that he would never hurt her. He just found her so desirable, and things had gotten out of hand that one, single time ...
Faint uneasiness crawled over him, and Angela's link with him quivered on the edge of his awareness. Startled out of his frustrated musings, Kevin reached for the door handle.
The link crystallized with a surge of sheer terror. Angela's face was suddenly and vividly clear in his mind, and he heard her mental voice speaking. *Kevin! It's a bank holdup!*
Kevin scrambled from the car.
*Be careful!* her voice continued. *There's three of them and they all have blasters!*
His heart pounding hard against his ribs, Kevin sprinted up the walk before the bank. He paused before the outer door, slipping a hand beneath his coat to grasp the hilt of his blaster.
"Hold it right there!" a voice said.
Kevin froze. A figure had emerged from the decorative bushes that ringed the building -- a large muscular figure, his face concealed by a stockinette mask, and an old, but serviceable blaster gripped in one gloved hand.
"Put 'em on top of your head," he ordered.
Kevin obeyed, careful to make no sudden moves and silently berating himself for not considering the possibility that the criminals might have a man guarding the door.
The fellow jerked his head. "Inside."
Kevin obeyed. As the doors slid aside, Angela's voice spoke in his mind again. *One of the tellers triggered an alarm!*
They entered the bank and he looked quickly around. The scene he beheld made his already pounding heart climb into his throat, not in fear for himself so much as for Angela. One of the men reached down and hauled her from the floor as he watched, and pressed his blaster against her temple.
"Hurry up!" he shouted. "Move your butts or I blow her away!"
Angela saw him and her eyes widened as she realized he too was a prisoner. He saw her swallow, and the mental link tightened almost painfully.
"Who the devil's that?" the man holding Angela demanded.
"He was sneaking up to the door. I think he might be a cop."
The man holding Angela jerked her roughly, grinding the blaster against her face. Kevin saw her close her eyes and her mouth tightly. Through the link, he could feel the cold muzzle of the weapon against his face.
"You a cop?" the man demanded.
Kevin was silent. The man who had herded him into the bank reached beneath Kevin's coat and removed the blaster. He swore. "Let's get outta here. You got the cash?"
"Yeah. Let's go."
Outside the bank, a voice boomed. "This is the police! You're surrounded! Come out with your hands up!"
"Cops!" Angela's captor ground the weapon into her face again and the man who had been collecting the money sprinted to the door to peer out.
"There's four cop cars, Ned. What'll we do?"
The man addressed as Ned, who hadn't spoken, seemed to be in command. He jerked his head at the people stretched out on the floor. "Take it easy, Sam. We got hostages to burn and that's the whole police force for this hick town." He pushed "Sam" aside and opened the door a crack. "Move back, cops, right now, or we start shooting people!"
There was a silence, then the loudspeaker boomed again. "You can't escape! Your only choice is to release your hostages and surrender."
Ned jerked his head at the man holding Angela and opened the door a little wider. "Make her yell."
Angela's captor grinned savagely and brought her arm behind her, twisting it cruelly. Kevin fought to restrain an exclamation at the sensation that transferred through the link, and Angela gave a scream of agony.
"We mean it, cops!" Ned yelled.
Another pause. Angela's captor twisted again, and again Angela screamed.
Ned shouted from the doorway. "You're going to do what we say or there's going to be a bunch of dead people in here. We want a car and transport off the planet. And listen! We got a cop in here!" He nodded to Kevin's captor, who shoved Kevin before the glass door. "You give us what we want or we start with him!"
Silence. Ned gestured. "Tell 'em, pig!" A hand cuffed him across the neck, knocking him forward. "Tell 'em to give us what we want!"
Kevin cleared his throat. This was a bad spot. Anything he said could well make matters worse. At least, his supposed status as a cop had distracted their attention somewhat from Angela, so he'd better let them go on thinking it.
"They mean it!" he called.
He was jerked away from the door. "Good!" The man who had captured him shoved him against the wall. "You stinkin' pig! I've got a mind to knock your teeth out. I've never knocked a pig's teeth out before." He lifted the blaster.
"Lay off, Barney!" Ned snapped. "We need him able to talk."
Barney looked disappointed, but he lowered the blaster. "I'm getting jumpy. Tell 'em to hurry."
Ned did. There was a pause while Barney fingered his blaster and finally pushed the door open a crack.
"I'm gonna drill the cop!" he yelled.
"Very well," the voice boomed from the loudspeaker again. "We'll give you your car and safe passage off of New Devonshire if you free the hostages unharmed!"
Barney let out his breath. "You think it's a trick?"
"Maybe, but we gotta take it. We'll take some insurance to keep 'em off us 'til we're offworld."
Minutes crawled by. Kevin sneaked a look at Angie and saw her watching him. Through the link, her voice spoke in his mind. *Oh Kevin, I'm so sorry for being such a fool!*
He wanted to tell her that it was okay, and that he'd been a worse fool than she, but he didn't dare open his mouth or give any indication that he knew her. Maybe she was reading his thoughts, though. The psychics of their organization weren't supposed to read the minds of nons without their permission, but the circumstances weren't normal. He kept his shields open wide just in case.
Time stretched interminably. Kevin was careful not to look at Angela again.
"What the *hell* is holding things up?" Barney glared at Kevin and then, as though to relieve his own tension, swung at the supposed cop. The blow landed on Kevin's cheek, knocking him to one knee.
He gritted his teeth. *Just pretend it's a Jil,* he told himself. *Pretend you're in the Patrol again an' you got a Jil mad at you. You don't yell, an' you don't fight. You just sit there an' take your medicine.*
Barney planted a heel in his back and pushed him forward on his face. Another kick took him in the ribs, doubling him up.
He lay still, gasping for breath and wishing Angela didn't have to see this. *Just keep quiet, honey,* he thought, hoping that she was picking up his thoughts. *Don't let 'em know we're acquainted. You'll make things worse.*
*Okay, Kevin.* Her voice spoke in his mind. *I'm reading you. Just tell me what to do.*
*Keep on readin' me, baby,* he thought. *Are you readin' these guys, too?*
*Yes.* Again the reply was prompt. *They aren't all thinking the same things. Barney wants to kill you. Maybe you'd better tell him you're not a cop.*
*Just keep quiet,* Kevin thought. *I've put up with worse ...* Another kick interrupted the thought and doubled him up again. He heard Angela's voice through a haze of pain.
"Stop it! You'll kill him!"
Barney favored Angela with a few ripe adjectives and an indecent suggestion and yanked Kevin upright. "You can take it, can't you big boy? Big, gorgeous supercop like you?"
Something warm trickled down his face. Kevin shook his head, spattering blood on the robber. The man cursed, lifting his fist again.
"Here comes the car." Ned spoke from the doorway. "There's eight cops on the force here, and I'm counting seven out there." He opened the door a crack and shouted to the surrounding police. "Get away from the car! Way back!"
There was a long pause. Ned nodded to Kevin's guard, who shoved him face down on the floor. "They need convincing. Drill the cop."
**********
tbc
