A Woman's Touch: 2/?
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick

2

Angela watched, her heart in her mouth, as Barney took aim at Kevin. He was holding the blaster tight, too tight for her to even attempt to disarm him, but she tried, striking desperately at the weapon with telekinesis.

The blaster joggled just as the man fired, and vividly, she sensed Kevin's agony as the bolt seared across his back and ribs. Frantically, she struck at the man again, gouging at his eyes with her telekinetic power. Barney stumbled backwards with a roar of pain and fright, batting at Angela's ghostly fingers with his hands.

"They're pulling back!" Ned glanced over his shoulder at his companions. "What the devil's wrong with you?"

Barney swore, rubbing at his eyes.

"Hurry!" Sam yelled.

Ned peered out again. "They're going to have a sharpshooter out there to take us out. Jake, you and Sam bring along some insurance. Her --" He pointed at Angela. "And her." He jerked a careless thumb at a teenager lying on the floor closest to Angela. "And them." He indicated a short, freckle-faced boy and an equally freckle-faced girl of perhaps twelve. "They won't risk a bunch of kids."

"Yeah." The fourth man, apparently Jake, jerked the teenager to her feet. "Let's go, baby."

Angela hardly noticed. She was watching Barney, alert for any indication that he might try to finish the job, but apparently, the man was so distracted by her silent attack that he had forgotten all about Kevin. Her partner lay absolutely still, but Angela could still sense his mind and the excruciating pain of his wound. Kevin was still conscious.

As her captor propelled her out the door, she tried to send him a message of reassurance, relying again on the link to carry her words.

"They don't know I'm a psychic, Kevin. I'll get away and be back for you! Hang on!"

Then, she was outside, clutched tightly against Barney, her feet dangling in the air as the man clamped her painfully against his chest, and the muzzle of the blaster was pressed against her temple. Behind her, she heard the hysterical sobbing of the other hostages.

Each of the men similarly held a hostage in front of them, she saw out of the corner of her eye. They sidled toward the car, keeping the children between them and the police.

The officers made no attempt to approach. As the criminals reached the car, Ned yanked open the door and scrambled into the driver's seat, shoving the boy into the street. Jake pushed the teenager ahead of him into the front and climbed in beside her, the blaster still pressed to her temple. Behind them, Barney scrambled in, shoving the freckle-faced girl away, and Sam pushed Angela in before ducking into the vehicle, himself. Once there, they were relatively safe, as the shatter-resistant plastic of the windows would protect them from anything less than close-range blaster fire. Ned had the car in the air almost before he finished closing the door.

Ned chuckled hoarsely. "I think we're going to make it."

Barney grinned and rested a hand on Angela's thigh. She jerked away from him and he laughed. Very deliberately, he repeated the action, this time closing his hand on her leg with painful strength. In the cramped quarters, sandwiched between Sam and Barney, there wasn't much she could do. These men had the advantage for the moment, but it wouldn't stay that way. Angela was a Terran psychic. She had the training of the Terran Underground to fall back on, and Barney had shot her psychic partner. She gritted her teeth, biding her time. If they gave her the slightest opening, they were going to find out the hard way that they had made a critical error.

Minutes went past. Barney's thoughts were clear to her, and to a lesser extent, so were the thoughts of the other man. Angela and the teenage girl were not to be set free. Their intended fate wouldn't be pleasant if she wasn't able to get them free, but it was hard to really think of that, so frantic was she for Kevin. The entire robbery had been recorded on the bank's videocameras. The police were certain to summon medical help and have Kevin taken to a hospital, and in his condition, he wouldn't be able to get away. Once the recordings were submitted for computer analysis, Kevin would be identified.

Once his identity was known, the Terran authorities would have no choice but to summon the Viceregal Patrol and Kevin would be delivered into the hands of the Jilectans. They would nurse him back to health and then he would be executed slowly and painfully before the entire Sector. She had only a small window of time before the Patrol took him. She *had* to get away!

The police were following at a safe distance, but they didn't dare get too close, she knew. There was apparently some kind of plan on the part of the authorities, but she was too far away from the pursuing police for her telepathic ability to discern what it might be. If she had known any of the law officers personally it might be a different matter, but in any case, when they sprang their trap, it might very well be too late for the teenage girl and her.

The car was slowing. Angela saw that they were over the planet's only spaceport, and that they were coming down next to a skippership parked in an open space near the edge of the field. The doors to the hold was wide open, and Ned aimed the car directly for the opening.

The doors slid shut behind them, and Ned killed the engine. Instantly, the men were leaping from the car, dragging their hostages along. Angela was shoved roughly into the control room and pushed into one of the acceleration chairs. Barney lashed her hands to the padded armrests, and snapped the safety-webbing across her lap, and Jake treated the other hostage in a similar manner. Meanwhile, Ned took the pilot's chair. A whine of engines began.

Barney seated himself in the chair next to Angela's, pulling safety webbing across his lap. There was a brief feeling of acceleration, and then the artificial gravity field kicked in.

"We got two ships after us," Jake announced.

"They're not going to shoot," Ned answered. "What I want to know is what else they've got up their sleeves. That was too easy."

Angela thought so, too, but she couldn't afford to wait for whatever the police had in mind. Besides, the police were almost as much of a danger to her as the four criminals. She might not be the most wanted Terran in the Rovalli Sector, but she was a Terran psychic, and definitely on the Jils' wanted list.

Barney wasn't paying attention to her. Carefully, Angela concentrated on the ropes binding her wrists. They were tight, but as she tugged on them with all her telekinetic strength, she could feel them beginning to loosen. Little Angela Westover, first cousin of Alan Westover, the most wanted man in the Sector, was not quite as powerful as her infamous relative, but close enough. And telekinesis was one of her strongest talents. Before the jolt came that announced their entry into hyperspace, the knots securing the ropes around her wrists were loose.

She left the loops in place, however. If any of the men realized that she was free, they would overpower her by force of numbers alone. She was afraid, but the fear had been pushed away into a corner of her mind where it didn't interfere with what she had to do. She had to succeed, because if she didn't, not only would she be dead, but Kevin would die, too. Her instructor in self-defense had emphasized to her that, although the fighting techniques that she had learned were useful, nothing was as effective as a clear, cool mind. "Keep your head, above all things," Captain Burke had said. "Your brain is the most effective weapon that you have. You're a psychic. You have abilities that they don't expect. You can read your opponent's thoughts; you can feel his emotions. You know what he's going to do next and you can predict how he's going to react. Use that knowledge to defeat him."

She held still as the two men at the control panel rose from their seats, pulling off their masks at the same time. Jake was blond, with red-blotched skin and, in age, somewhere in the latter half of his first century. The second man, Ned, was tall, muscular and good-looking, his dark hair flecked with grey.

Barney stood up as well and pulled off his mask, revealing a grizzled beard and mustache. He grinned a bit foolishly, revealing a mouthful of crooked teeth and a gap where one of his incisors should have been. "We did it!"

"Yeah!" Sam got to his feet, peeling off his own mask. "Damn, but I feel good!" He turned to grin at Angela's fellow hostage. "Let's celebrate!"

"First dibs on this one!" Barney reached down and jerked Angela's safety webbing loose.

Angela reached out with telekinesis and a finger of energy triggered the fire alarm.

With an ear-shattering blast, the siren went off, bringing startled curses from the criminals. Chemical mist poured from tiny holes in the bulkheads.

Angela lunged forward, catching the distracted Barney in the pit of the stomach, and sent him staggering backwards. Beneath her mental fingers, his blaster spun from his belt where he had tucked it and smacked solidly into her hands.

Sam reached belatedly for his blaster and Angela fired. The old weapon bucked clumsily against her hands and Sam was hurled to the deck. Before he could fall, she fired a second time, catching Ned full in the chest, in the act of drawing his blaster. He dropped and Angela's weapon spun to cover the other two. Jake had half-drawn his own sidearm, but froze at the sight of Angela's weapon centered on him. Barney, sprawling on the deck, simply stared in amazement.

Deliberately, Angela reached up with telekinesis and shut off the fire alarm. In the sudden, ringing silence, she spoke.

"If either of you even breathes the wrong way, I'll shoot to kill. You -- Jake. Take the blaster out slowly and drop it."

Jake did so, still staring at her with his jaw hanging open. Angela concentrated, the muzzle of her weapon never wavering. Jake's blaster slid swiftly across the deck plates to stop against her feet, to be followed a second later by the one that Sam had dropped. Then, very deliberately, her attention still riveted on the two surviving criminals, Angela drew in Ned's blaster, adding it to the collection at her feet.

Barney swore under his breath. "She's a damn psychic!"

"You just figured that out, huh?" Jake said, nastily.

Angela gestured with the muzzle of her blaster. "March ahead of me to the hold. As you mentioned, Barney, I'm a damn psychic, and I'm reading every thought in your mind. You give me one excuse and I'll kill you."

Neither man answered, but they obeyed. Angela herded them into the small hold, slid the door shut and locked it from the outside. Then she turned and ran back to the control room.

The other hostage was still seated in the acceleration chair and Angela got a good look at her for the first time. She was a slim girl, no more than sixteen, with ebony skin and short, black hair. Wide, brown eyes met Angela's fearfully, and as Angela approached, she hunched back in her chair, the darker freckles standing out against the slightly lighter shade of her skin.

"It's all right," Angela said, gently. "I won't hurt you."

"You're a Terran psychic!"

"Yes, I am." Angela began to untie the ropes binding the other girl to the chair.

"But ... who *are* you?"

The ropes slithered to the floor and Angela extended a hand to help her to her feet. "My name is Angela Westover. You can call me Angie."

Reluctantly, the other girl accepted her help and let Angela pull her to her feet. "Westover? Are you ... I mean, you look like ..."

"I know. I look like the posters of Alan Westover. I'm his cousin. His father was my father's brother. What's your name?"

"Alan Westover's cousin!" The girl stared at her. "Are you really?"

"Yes." Angela crossed to the control panel and bent over the controls. A readout appeared on the screen, indicating that they were on course for the Procyon system.

"I'm Susannah Perkins." The other girl arrived beside her, but the frightened look had disappeared. "That was amazing! You saved both our lives!"

"Thanks." Angela gave her a smile, hardly paying attention now. "You'd better strap in. I'm bringing us out of hyperspace."

"Oh." Susannah sat down in the nearest chair and pulled the strap across her lap. "Do you know how to pilot this thing?"

"Huh? Oh, sure. They teach us to pilot just about everything in the Terran Underground."

"I suppose they must. I guess I never thought about it."

Angela dropped into the pilot's chair and absently fastened her webbing. "Sublight."

With a jolt, the stars reappeared on the screen. Angela snapped on the hyperspace radio, adjusted it to the Patrol frequency, and instructed the computer to listen for certain critical words. Voices spoke in Basic from the receiver, a mutter in the background.

"What are you doing?" Susannah asked.

Angela glanced up. "I want to check something out," she said. "You know, I have the feeling that something's not right here."

"What?"

"I'm not sure." She stood up, turning slowly from side to side. The tingle of clairvoyance ran up her spine, warning her of something irregular, something not as it should be. She walked slowly across the cabin, trailing her hand across the bulkhead, and abruptly stopped. "Here."

"What?" Susannah had moved up behind her and was practically breathing down her neck.

"A homing device. Looks like the police weren't as stupid as our friends thought." She pressed a spot on the bulkhead and a tiny compartment opened, revealing the little mechanism.

"Wow!" Susannah stared at Angela's find. "How did you know it was there?"

"Clairvoyance." Angela removed the device from its spot, dropped it to the deck and stepped on it. "That takes care of that."

"What do we do now?"

"First, we're taking our friends back to New Devonshire," Angela told her.

"Angie ... " Susannah hesitated. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Pardon me if I'm being nosy, but you look awfully upset about something. Is it that poor man they shot back at the bank?"

Angela didn't trust herself to speak. She nodded.

"I thought so." Susannah put a cautious hand on her arm. "I guess he was a friend of yours?"

"Yes." Angela said, aware of the quiver in her voice.

"Your husband?"

Angela shook her head. "No."

Abruptly the sound level of the radio's speakers increased. A heavily accented voice spoke in Basic from the receiver. Angela bit her lip. There it was, faster than she'd expected.

Susannah gasped. "Kevin Bronson? So *that's* why you were monitoring Patrol transmissions!"

The broadcast continued. The Patrol Base on the fourth moon of New Wilshire, the fourth planet in New Devonshire's star system, was ordered to send enough patrolmen to mount a constant guard around Bronson until the battlecruiser "Orion" could arrive from its current location on Ravellus.

Ravellus, Angela thought. Only four hours from New Devonshire. That didn't give her much time.

The pilot's chair was made for a larger person than she was. Her feet dangled in the air as she took the spot before the controls and yanked the safety webbing across her lap and shoulder. "Sit down and strap in, Susannah. We have to move."

Susannah obeyed. "Kevin Bronson! The Crazy Subcommander! They'll execute him!"

"Not if I can help it," Angela said. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she ignored them as she bent over the controls. "Hyperspace. I've *got* to help him!"

The stars on the viewscreen vanished. Angela took out her crumpled handkerchief, wiped her eyes and blew her nose, aware that Susannah was watching her.

"You're in love with him."

Angela swallowed. "Yes."

Silence. The other girl put a hand on her arm. "I'll help you."

Angela shook her head. "I can't involve a civilian in this. Besides, you're underage."

"I'm eighteen. I know I look younger, but I really am. Besides, you don't look that old, yourself."

"I'm twenty-two."

"I can help you, Angie. Please let me!" She smiled a little shyly. "I know this is going to sound silly to you, but I've sort of had a crush on him for years."

Angela looked up, startled. "What? But you don't even know him!"

"I know. Call it a youthful infatuation." Susannah gave an embarrassed grin. "I was fifteen when I saw him shoot Tralthvor on interstellar video to save your cousin Alan's life. I sort of fell for him on the spot. I still remember how I felt when I saw it." She smiled shyly. "And now you -- Alan Westover's cousin -- saved me from a death as horrible as the one Kevin saved your cousin from." She broke off and laughed softly. "Don't give me those wide eyes! I know as well as you do what those guys had in mind for us! I'll help you, Angie. Just tell me what to do!"

Angela found herself looking at her young companion more closely. Susannah was tiny for a girl her age, and surprisingly mature in spite of her youth. Not only that, she obviously spoke Basic well enough to understand the language issuing from the radio. Terrans usually learned a smattering of Basic. A year of Basic was a requirement for graduation from all Terran high schools, but very few spoke it well unless they traveled among the natives of the Jilectan Autonomy. Was it possible ...? She extended a mind probe, and was instantly aware of something.

Psychic energy. Susannah Perkins was a psychic, although not a very powerful one. Her aura was weak, which must have been why Angela, distracted as she had been, had missed it earlier. In her rapid, searching examination, she could detect only empathy, and no other talents at all, although an in-depth examination would probably discover others.

The girl was watching her, aware of her change in attitude. Angela took a deep breath, thinking furiously. She couldn't involve a civilian in this mess, but a psychic civilian was different. Susannah was technically a criminal in the eyes of the Jilectans.

"Susannah ..."

"Call me Sue," she said. "I hate my full name."

"Sue." She hesitated.

"What's wrong?"

"You're a psychic." The words came out in a rush. "I'm sorry. I didn't detect it before. I was so worried about Kevin ..."

"I'm a ... psychic?"

Angela nodded. "I'm afraid so. You'd better sit down. We'll be coming out of hyperspace in a minute."

Susannah sat. "I'm not a psychic!"

"I'm afraid you are. I just realized it when I probed your mind. I'm sorry ... I had to. The Jilectans have spies everywhere. I had to be sure."

Susannah didn't seem to be listening. Her face had become thoughtful. "A psychic," she said. "I've never *done* anything spectacular like your cousin did."

"You're not as powerful as he is," Angela said, with a slight smile, "but you're definitely one of us."

A shrill beeping on the panel announced that they were approaching New Devonshire. Angela turned back to the control board and gestured at her companion. "Fasten your webbing."

Absently, Susannah obeyed. "What powers do I have? Can you tell?"

"Empathy's the only one I can detect right now. You probably have others, though. I've never known of a Terran psychic with only one ability."

Susannah nodded. "Empathy. The Jils think empaths are sissies, don't ..."

There was a jolt as the skippership emerged from hyperspace.

" ... They?"

"Yes. It doesn't matter what the Jils think. I'm an empath, too."

Susannah stared at the planet in the screen before them. "What are you going to do about those guys in the hold?"

"I'm going to give them something else to think about besides robbing banks and hurting innocent people."

"Yes?" Susannah looked interested. "Like what?"

"I'll think of something." Angela pointed the ship's nose toward the southern pole of the planet. From the hold came a loud rapping sound.

Angela ignored it. The ship was hitting the pull and she triggered the repulsers as the thin whine of atmosphere began.

"Won't they spot us from the surface?" Sue asked.

"I'm going in through the southern aurora," Angela said. "It should confuse their scanners enough so they don't bother us. They'll probably think we're a meteor, if they notice us at all." The task of bringing them in unnoticed wasn't difficult, and her mind was mostly on Kevin. How could she possibly rescue him? He would be guarded at all times, and she was almost totally on her own. Her only help on New Devonshire consisted of a small contact station in New London, run by a young civil servant and his wife. He had few resources to assist her, and, although the Underground had begun the process of establishing him in a position where he could set up a functioning station, they had so far laid only the groundwork, part of which had been the reason that she and Kevin had been there this week.

Still, her cousin Alan had had even fewer resources when he had rescued Mark Linley from the "Patton", when Mark had been a prisoner there. He had succeeded with flying colors, not only abducting his partner from under the nose of the Patrol, but bringing Kurt McDougal into the Underground to boot.**

The whine of air against the hull had risen to a scream. Angela didn't glance at her own scanners. They would be useless with all the electrical interference of the aurora surrounding the ship. Letting clairvoyance guide her, she gradually increased the thrust of the repulsers, bringing them out of the dive.

"How can you see anything?" Sue asked, staring in awe at the screen.

"I can't."

"*What*? Then how ... oh, your psychic powers, of course." Sue laughed a little nervously. "You must trust them an awful lot."

"Once you're used to them, it's like an extra set of eyes and ears or any other sense. You'll find out." She glanced at the scanners, realizing why Sue had been so horrified. The screen showed nothing but a jumble of static and meaningless symbols. She hadn't even noticed.

Below them she saw the polar ice cap of the planet, which, she knew, extended well into the southern hemisphere of New Devonshire. The aurora was fading into the distance now, and the screens were clearing. The ship sped northward. The choppy ocean and floating icebergs that made up the southern polar ocean slipped past beneath. Again, from the hold, she heard the frantic pounding.

Sue glanced anxiously toward it. "There's no way they can get out of there, is there?"

"Not unless one of them's a telekinetic," Angela said. "I locked it from the outside. They're just hoping that we'll let them out and then they can try getting the jump on us."

"Are you going to let them out?"

"When I'm ready, sure. I don't want them on board any more than they want to be here." She glanced at the scanners again. Beneath them, the ice crusted ocean had given way to grey water and a few small, inhospitable-looking islands. Angela chose one and brought the ship down on a rocky stretch of beach. "This'll do. What do you think?"

Sue giggled. "I think it's better than they deserve. How do you plan to get them out without them getting the jump on us?"

"Leave it to me," Angela said. "You just stay back."

The two men in the hold, it seemed, weren't particularly anxious to leave their sanctuary. Angela triggered the door with telekinesis and stood well back, with her blaster aimed at the opening. "Come on out, you two."

"Come in and get us," a voice responded.

Angela grinned savagely. "You both come out right now or I set this blaster on overload, toss it in there and shut the door. The hold reinforcement should contain the blast, but you won't care," she said flatly. "I don't have the time to fool around."

There was a long, charged silence, and then Jake and Barney emerged from the doorway. They glared sullenly at her.

"Hands on your heads," Angela said. "One wrong move and I shoot."

Jake grinned crookedly at her. "Aw honey, you wouldn't do that, would you?"

"Count on it. Now, walk ahead of me through the hatch. You're getting off here. I'll be right behind you. Don't give me a reason to finish what I started." Angela jerked her head at the two bodies on the deck. "Let's go."

Jake considered a moment, than apparently decided that she meant it. Slowly, he placed his hands on top of his head, and Barney reluctantly followed his example. "What are you gonna do with us?"

"Nothing," Angela said, expressionlessly. "I'm letting you go. Walk toward the hatch."

"Aw, c'mon, baby," Jake said. "You don't really want to do that, do you? Not a nice kid like you ..."

Angela didn't answer. With a finger of telekinesis, she triggered the hatch. It opened, revealing the sandy beach and the cold, grey ocean beyond. An icy wind blew into the ship. Jake, in the lead, stopped.

"You aren't gonna dump us here!" he said, incredulously. "Come on, lady, give us a break! We'll split the take with you -- you know, partners?" He grinned persuasively. "We weren't really gonna hurt you. Just have a little fun, y'know?"

"Sure," Barney chimed in. "Come on, honey ..." He started to lower his hands and gave a startled yelp as Angela's weapon spat. The needle beam singed his ear, leaving a red streak on the upper curve.

"Don't try it," she said. "March."

"Aw, baby ..."

"I'm not your baby. You can get along here all right. There's plenty of animal life, and driftwood for fires. You won't starve to death. It might even get warm when spring arrives."

"But it's fall now!"

"Tough. Out. Next time it won't be your ear."

Slowly, they obeyed. As they stepped off the ramp, Angela stepped back, scooped up an emergency kit and tossed it after them. "There's blankets in here," she said. "And emergency rations. They should keep you going until you can catch something to eat. I'd go for the shellfish if I were you. And, oh yes, here. I almost forgot." She reached down to pick up one of the bags of credits. "Take this. You wanted them bad enough to kill a man for them. Enjoy them." She tossed the second bag after the first and triggered the hatch. It closed, concealing their sullen faces.

As the skippership lifted off the beach minutes later, Angela had already forgotten the two men that they had left behind. In spite of their attempts to win her over, she had seen their real emotions as plainly as she could see the instruments on the control board before her.

Varied though the emotions had been, the ones that stood out most plainly in both men were a cold, vicious ruthlessness and overwhelming anger that a mere girl had been able to outwit them with such ease. In spite of their promise to share their loot with her, they had intended to kill her at the very next opportunity that offered. She could not feel the least guilt at marooning them so completely, with the money. Absently, she wondered which one, if either, would survive the battle over that, then decided she didn't really care. She might be an empath, but they had crossed a critical line: they had tried to kill her psychic partner, and that put them beyond pardon. The Rovalli Sector was well rid of them.

Dismissing them from her thoughts, she turned the nose of the skippership northward toward New London and Kevin.

**Two Giants for David

**********

tbc


Earth is the insane asylum for the universe.