(You may recognize Jeremy Burke from a previous story. He was the main character in "Mousetrap".)
The Crystal Demon: 12/?
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
XI
The Kern spaceport couldn't compare with the modern facilities on the more civilized planets, Jeremy Burke thought, but it was sufficient for the purpose. Eventually the colonists would put in a modern facility, but right now it was largely a wide-open field of packed ground, with a cluster of buildings to one side that housed the traffic controllers, the repair facilities and the other myriad functions of a spaceport.
He glanced a little nervously at the man beside him. "How do I look? I feel conspicuous."
"Me too. The outfits are enough to blind you."
"No, I mean that we're so short."
Jim Summer shrugged. "If anyone gets suspicious, I can work an illusion to make us look a little taller." He smoothed the cloth over his chest, looking like some fantastic African prince in the bright gold and gleaming white of the outfit. The ebony of his skin was a sharp contrast to the brilliant cloth.
Jeremy glanced down at himself and winced. The clothing was, as Jim had said, enough to blind the average Terran. Dazzling white, emblazoned across the breast with an odd, whirligig pattern in flaming reddish-gold -- the official insignia of the House of Dronthvor, first son of the late, lamented Lord Pronthvor, who had perished lately at the hands of Mark Linley. "I wonder what we look like to the Jils," he remarked.
Jim glanced at him with one eyebrow raised. He grinned, a flash of white teeth in his dark face, but the smile was more ferocious than amused. "Like animals wearing pretty collars," he said. "Let's go, my friend. We have business with the Lord of our House."
Together, the two Terran psychics started across the packed ground toward their goal.
The section of the spaceport set aside for the occasional Jilectan visitor looked no different to Jeremy than the rest of it, but he supposed there was some sort of advantage to this part. At present, only a single yacht occupied the private field, a sleek, luxurious silver vessel with a symbol on its side matching the one on their clothing, and reflecting the scarlet rays of the setting sun
Jim squinted, shading his eyes against the reflected light. "Classy," he remarked, sounding a little awed. "He must be a big shot Jil."
Jeremy grinned slightly. "You know what they say. 'The bigger they are the harder they fall.' This guy's not a very good clairvoyant, so unless we get careless we'll be okay."
A Viceregal patrolman stopped then as they approached the boarding ramp. "Identification?" he inquired in a bored voice.
Jim pulled out his identification card. Jeremy did likewise, and the man checked them with an air of indifference. He handed them back. "Okay, go ahead."
Jeremy nodded and they ascended the ramp.
The airlock was open, and they entered the ship, glancing around. Most Jilectan yachts were built on a similar design, but there were usually a few differences that reflected the tastes of the noble owner. Jeremy checked the floor plan posted beside the inner lock. "Looks routine," he murmured to his partner, and thrust his identification into the appropriate slot. Jim hurried to do the same, and they continued on into the main body of the ship. The men that they had replaced were anonymous maintenance men, and the real Jilectan employees were at present enjoying the hospitality of a small shack down by the river. By the time they awakened, the yacht would be in hyperspace, and neither Jim nor Jeremy had any intention of showing their faces anywhere near the galley where they were supposed to be running a check on a faulty food stasis bin.
The yacht was swarming with maintenance men who were doing the final checkout before the ship departed. The two psychics were virtually invisible in the crowd of technicians moving here and there about the vessel, each one intent upon his task. Moving purposefully, they ascended to the level of the Commander's quarters and strode confidently down the carpeted corridor.
This was the deck that housed the officers of the yacht; men who had been in the service of the Jilectan owner's family for years. Halfway to their destination they paused and Jim, the telekinetic of the pair, proceeded to open an invisible door to the custodian's closet. A moment later, now in possession of a carpet sweeper and a small hand vacuum suitable for dusting beneath bunks and in narrow crevices, they continued on their way.
They paused at last outside the door of the Commander's quarters. To their right, a door that led to the quarters belonging to the Commander's valet, was closed, and apparently locked. Jim busied himself with the cleaning of the heavy carpet while Jeremy, the better clairvoyant of the pair, concentrated. "The valet's not there. Looks like a point in our favor."
"All right," Jim said instantly. "Stand in the way just in case ..." He moved closer to the door and rested a hand on its surface. "Not telekinetic proof," he said. Instantly there was a click and the door slid silently open. "Okay. I'll stand guard. Get in and out fast, buddy."
**********
Five minutes later, the two psychics proceeded down the corridor again, in the other direction. The custodian's closet was small, but afforded Jeremy the opportunity to change his uniform for that of the Commander's valet. Not that anyone seeing him close up would be fooled, but from a distance was another story, and for closer encounters ... well, that was what Jim was for. The chute to the matter converter halfway to the elevators provided an excellent opportunity to dispose of the clothing, and moments later the two of them had ducked into the elevator and were dropping toward the boarding deck.
"Whew!" Jeremy said. "How much longer until takeoff?"
Jim glanced at his chronometer. "Ten minutes. I guess it's time to convince Patrolman Rupert that we've disembarked."
The illusion took bare moments. They were now officially off the yacht, and Jim was merely one of several Jilectan lackeys who remained on board for routine maintenance and cleanup. As for Jeremy, well, it wouldn't be the first time that it had been necessary to substitute another man for Henry Truman, the Commander's valet. It was a known fact that the man had a penchant for bars while on shore leave. Xenis was no exception, and it was highly unlikely that the real valet would venture onto the Engineering deck, which also housed the hydroponics section, the storage and supplies section and the cabin occasionally used as a brig.
Two unsuspected Terran psychics aboard a Jilectan's yacht could cause a great deal of trouble, as the occupants were about to find out. As they stepped from the elevator on the Engineering deck, the five-minute warning sounded throughout the ship, and they located a pair of convenience chairs provided for the crew and servants of the yacht during takeoff.
A voice spoke softly over the shipwide intercom, announcing the imminent takeoff. They glanced at each other and waited as the yacht's engines came to life. The whine intensified, and then, for just a second, Jeremy felt the heaviness of acceleration.
The artificial gravity came on almost at once. They were on their way to Corala, the Jilectan capitol in the Rovalli Sector, and when they reached their destination, Jeff Parnell would die in the execution chair before the watching eyes of the entire Sector.
Except that Jeremy and Jim were here to see that the destination was never reached. Although no one else knew it, they were about to alter course.
"Hyperspace in fifteen seconds," the intercom announced.
With a faint jolt, the transition was made. Jeremy pursed his lips. "Wow, I've never had a takeoff that smooth."
"Only the best for our lords and masters," Jim said sardonically.
"Yeah," Jeremy agreed. He unfastened his webbing. "Shall we attend to business?"
"After you, sir," his partner said. Jim was the junior officer of the psychic Team, a fact that he never allowed Jeremy to live down. Jeremy had been the third Terran psychic discovered by the Jilectans, and the first to meet the Terran Underground when the Scaifen branch had rescued him from the Jilectan scientist who had first discovered that Terrans had psychics in their ranks. Jim had joined the Underground some years later, and during the time Jeremy had been training him, they had discovered their partnership. Colonel Jeremy Burke and Captain James Summer made an excellent psychic pair, because between them, they possessed an extraordinarily wide variety of psychic talents. It made them a very formidable Team.
"Thank you very much, Junior," Jeremy said. They proceeded on down the gently curving corridor, as it ran along the inner hull of the ship until they reached the side branch that led them toward the entrance to Engineering, and coincidentally, the cabin currently imprisoning former Base Commander Jefferson Parnell. Jeremy scanned the corridor that curved ahead of them, determined not to be surprised by any unexpected crewman, but also cautiously aware of the psychic mind of the Jilectan several decks above. Fortunately, Dronthvor's attention was elsewhere, but the sensation of that powerful mind was enough to send chills up his spine.
It was unlikely that the alien would sense them, he knew. Unless actively scanning, Jilectans normally did not detect Terran psychics and there was no reason, he told himself, for Dronthvor to think that there might be any aboard. If, by chance however, he became aware of Jeremy's mind, there were very few places that he and Jim would be able to hide on the yacht. Not to mention, it would end any possible chance of them completing their mission.
There was a Procyon ahead. The creature was normally a deckhand on the yacht, but had been drafted by the Jilectan to stand a perfunctory guard on the prisoner. Not that either the Procyon or the Jilectan really had any expectation of Parnell's escaping the fate to which he had been condemned.
Jim had also sensed the alien. He and Jeremy paused just beyond the bend in the corridor, and then Jeremy nodded to his partner. *You ready?*
*Any time you are, old man.* Jeremy was twenty-nine. Jim, at twenty-three, never let Jeremy forget that either.
Jeremy threw back his shoulders and proceeded.
The Procyon was leaning against the bulkhead by the locked door, his feathered crest drooping. Ch'Druk was bored. Still, guarding this poor fool of a prisoner was better than waiting on crewmen in the mess hall. A little, anyway.
Jeremy stopped in front of the pseudo-avian. "You're crewman Ch'Druk, right?"
"That ish correct."
"I've been sent to take over for you. You're to return to your normal duties."
The way the Procyon was looking at a spot a good six centimeters above his head led Jeremy to think that the Procyon wasn't seeing the real Jeremy Burke. The alien's crest drooped further. "Very well, shir. The shob is yoursh."
"Thank you," Jeremy said, mockingly. "Enjoy waiting on tables."
The Procyon's beak clacked in mild annoyance and he muttered a phrase in his native language that would have seared the ears of any of his own species. Since, however, Procyon insults were highly specific to their species, Jeremy was unimpressed. He moved to take up the position by the cabin door that the Procyon had vacated, and waited until the echoes of the alien's footfalls had died away.
Jim had strolled up while he was waiting. He glanced after Ch'Druk. "One possible complication disposed of. You ready for the next phase?"
"Ready."
"Okay, on to Engineering." Jim's ivory teeth flashed in a feral smile. "I'm going to enjoy this part. I'll bet this yacht cost ol' Dronthvor a pretty penny. With luck, maybe his insurance company will raise its rates on him."
Jeremy smiled. "Don't blame you a bit. Personally, I hope he's too embarrassed to show his face in public for a while after this. It's not every Jil who has his yacht hijacked in hyperspace by members of the Terran Underground."
Jim nodded. Jeremy couldn't blame him. Jim's first psychic partner had been his twin brother. The Jils, Jeremy reflected, not for the first time, had a great deal to atone for, and the relatives of the psychics they had killed weren't likely to be very merciful, empathy notwithstanding.
Engineering was some distance further down the corridor. The two men proceeded at a brisk pace toward their goal.
Normally, the engine department of Jilectan yachts was staffed by two persons, and Jeremy's extra senses told him that this was the case here. Since Jim could handle illusions only for one person at a time, this was fortunate. Jeremy, however, wasn't totally without resources himself. They paused just outside the door. Jim concentrated for several seconds. "All right, I've got the man in charge. Be ready when he panics."
"I'm already in the other guy's mind," Jeremy told his partner. "Do your stuff."
Inside there was a yell of alarm. "Holy crud! We've got an overload in the starboard engine!"
Jeremy began to broadcast. Sheer, blinding terror. The second man had to be too frightened to think.
"Shut it down!"
"It's not responding! I'm gonna dump the engine! Signal the control room to bring us out of hyperspace!"
An alarm began to sound throughout the ship. Jeremy continued his broadcast.
There was a sudden jolt as the ship emerged from hyperspace. "Ejecting engine ..." A cussword. "It's not responding! The ejection mechanism's jammed!"
"That's not possible!"
"It's not responding!" More interestingly inventive cusswords. Jeremy was mildly regretful that he was too busy to take notes. "The chain reaction's reaching critical! Sound 'Abandon ship'!"
Inside the cabin Jeremy could hear the intercom shouting at the two men, and the confused responses. An alarm began to shriek throughout the ship.
The two psychics pressed themselves to the bulkhead on either side of the doorway, and just in time. The two men bolted through and charged down the corridor toward the lifeboat bays. Jeremy and Jim followed behind, careful to keep the men within range. They paused by the cabin that imprisoned Jefferson Parnell, and Jeremy could 'hear' the man's mind. If the ship exploded, it would save him from execution on Corala. The former Base Commander seemed not to care. If he had managed to save his daughter, it was all that mattered.
Jeremy felt a little sorry for him, but at least his attempt to save his daughter, while it might have ended his career, showed that he was capable of love and loyalty. Parnell might very well have a place in their organization.
He and Jim waited while the ship evacuated and their mental scan told them that the entire vessel was deserted except for themselves and the prisoner. He nodded to his partner. "Go on up to Control and take us back into hyperspace," he said. "General Kaley can always use another Jil yacht. It'll make a good addition to the Fleet."
Jim grinned and lifted a thumb to him. "You got it, boss."
Jeremy removed his little ladies-sized blaster and flipped it to needle beam. Disabling the lock was easy. He stood back and pushed the button to open the door with the nose of his blaster. "Commander Parnell?"
The former Base Commander was sprawled on the narrow bunk against the opposite bulkhead. His hands were still confined with restrainers, Jeremy saw, and the expression on his face was enough to make the psychic wince. Jeremy stepped into the cabin. "Hold out your arms," he said. "The only key I have to those things is a needle beam."
Parnell didn't move. He was a tall, olive-skinned man with dark brown eyes and heavy eyebrows that, at the moment, were drawn together in puzzlement. One eye showed a dark bruise, and there was a cut on one cheek. Jeremy smiled. "Colonel Jeremy Burke, Terran Underground, Commander. You've been officially rescued."
Slowly, Parnell pushed himself to a sitting position on the bunk, and even more slowly he held out his arms. With great care, Jeremy burned the lock away with the needle beam. The restrainers clattered to the deck, and Parnell rubbed his wrists. "I don't understand," he said. "Why should the Underground help me?"
Jeremy smiled slightly. "You kept your word with us, Commander, and landed in trouble because of it. The Underground always fulfills its obligations. We're going to be on our way back to base momentarily. I'm authorized to offer you membership in our organization, if you want it."
Parnell winced and rubbed his neck. Jeremy grimaced slightly in sympathy. "The muscle spasms will go away in a day or two," he said. "Interrogations aren't any fun."
"You been through any?"
"No, but some of my friends have, and I'm an empath."
"A psychic, huh?" Parnell nodded. "I guess I should thank you for rescuing me. How many of you are there?"
"Just my partner and me," Jeremy said. "We've got the whole yacht to ourselves." He paused. "Hyperspace in ten seconds."
Parnell's eyebrows had risen. "Two of you, and you just took over Dronthvor's yacht? I'm impressed."
"You haven't seen anything yet, Commander. What's the answer?"
"Oh, I'll join, of course. I haven't really got much choice," Parnell said. "What happened to my daughter?"
"We aren't sure," Jeremy said honestly. "The last we heard she was still alive, and she was with Major Linley. They'd gone to make the trade for the globe thing. There's been no news since."
Parnell closed his eyes for an instant. "Dronthvor read me and found out where I was supposed to meet the Underground to make the exchange. They were probably right on top of Timmar when he arrived. Lyn would have been in the middle of it, I suppose. She and Linley were probably killed."
Jeremy bit his lip. "My partner and I have had no word, but there may be some when we contact our people. A ship of ours was heading for Kasal when we got the order to attempt to rescue you. They've certainly reached it by now, and have traced Linley and your daughter."
"If they're still alive," Parnell said.
"Don't count Major Linley out too easily," Jeremy said. "You should know his reputation."
Parnell smiled mirthlessly. "I won't. He's the only hope I have that she could have survived." He got slowly to his feet. "I really do thank you for what you've done, Colonel Burke."
"Jeremy," he said. "You and I need to go back to Engineering, just in case my partner needs us there. I don't anticipate any problems -- and precognition is my strongest talent. If it's any reassurance, I don't see any more trouble ahead for you, either, Commander, at least in the immediate future, so maybe things will be all right."
Parnell smiled grimly. "I hope you're right," he said.
**********
tbc
