The Crystal Demon: 32/32
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
XXXVI
"We're getting close," Alan said. He flinched suddenly. "There's a Jilectan nearby!"
Mark cussed softly. "An' no doubt, the globe is makin' Jeel head right for him, too."
"It is." Alan jerked his telepathic probe back from the touch of the alien's mind. "I think it's Halthzor."
Miki yelped. "I'm pickin' him up, too! It's Halthzor, *an'* the Bovva Ra! What'll we do?"
"Easy, Mik," Mark said. "Don't go to pieces on us. How many 'trols has he got with him? Can you tell, kid?"
Alan tried. His perception was blurred by the combined presence of Halthzor and the globe, but hopefully the globe was also causing some blurring of Halthzor's senses as well. The big alien certainly did not seem aware of him, but of course, he was closer to the creature than Alan was.
"I don't know," he said finally. "He's got an escort, but I don't know how many. Miki, can you take care of them for us?"
"I guess so." Miki looked nervously up at the Terrans. "I'm scared."
"I know," Mark said. "So'm I. Hurry up, now. Alan an' me'll take care o' the Jil." He settled the aircar into a tiny clearing. Branches brushed them on both sides. "Go," he said. "Don't get too far ahead of us. Halthzor wasn't bothered by the Chu before, an' he probably won't be, now. I'm guessin' he's wearin' some kinda nose filters or somethin'." He glanced at Alan. "You ready?"
"I think so. We need to hurry. Once the globe gets where it wants to, it has no more reason not to hurt Jeel." Alan climbed out of the car, clutching the frame as the scenery tipped crookedly.
Mark paused in the act of getting out on his side. "You gonna make it?"
"Sure. Just give me a minute." Alan took a deep breath and the scenery steadied. "Go on, Miki, but don't fire until we give you the signal."
"I won't." Miki's Basic was suddenly clear and precise, like Alan's. The Shirva vanished into the trees overhead and Alan started to force his way through the shrubbery, following the broadcast of the globe. Mark pushed his way through the vegetation to grasp his elbow, and at once Alan felt a sense of reassurance flowing from his partner. It was the Droma, still performing its mysterious function.
The aura of the globe drew rapidly closer and they hurried forward. Alan hoped fervently that the Droma would also shield them from Halthzor, even as it had shielded Mark from him. Miki had said that it would protect its owner from hostile psychic forces, so maybe he, too, would be shielded through the link with his partner. After this was all over, they must have the psychic researchers at the base study the Droma and see if they could figure it out.
Halthzor and the globe were directly ahead. Mark's hand tightened on his elbow at the sound of voices, and with his free hand Linley drew his blaster.
"Take him!" It was Halthzor. Alan increased his pace. An instant later, he stopped still, seeing movement through the shrubbery.
Halthzor's huge form was framed against a background of green leaves, surrounded by the shorter figures of Viceregal patrolmen. One of the men held Jeel, tucked under one arm. The Shirva was squirming weakly, sobbing out incoherent words in his own language. In one hand, Halthzor held the Skelzir globe.
Free of the protecting cloth, it glowed with a brightness that Alan had never seen before. Shocked, he realized that he was sensing emotions emanating from the globe, itself. Relief, triumph, spiteful joy. The creature had achieved its goal.
They would have to kill Halthzor. That was Alan's first thought. As soon as Miki took care of the patrolmen, he would fire, and Halthzor, the powerful lieutenant of the Jilectan Viceroy, would die.
Mark gave a muffled exclamation and Alan turned toward him in surprise. Linley's hand, still clutching the blaster, had come up to cover the tiny stone that hung around his neck. Brightness shone between his fingers, and the expression on his face was one that Alan had never seen before. It was strangely calm, but his eyes were glowing with something like exultation. At the same time, Halthzor uttered a shocked exclamation and Alan turned his head to see that the Skelzir globe's color had changed, was still changing. As he watched, it deepened to a strange reddish hue.
The patrolmen fell back from Halthzor. They were staring at the globe as if fascinated, but horror was mirrored on their faces. The one holding Jeel uttered a sudden, wild scream, dropped his burden and charged blindly away into the underbrush.
It was a signal. His fellows also broke, bolting from the scene in a wild scramble of frantic arms and legs. Their shrieks of terror echoed through the oddly silent forest.
Mark's hand closed harder on Alan's upper arm, almost crushing it, but Alan felt no pain. He felt nothing but the quiet strength and reassurance of the Droma that still reached him through Mark. Linley lifted his face suddenly. To Alan's shock, he voiced a sudden shout of triumph.
"We can do it!" he bellowed. He leaped forward, pulling Alan with him.
Halthzor saw them. His eyes jerked toward them but he made no attempt to draw his blaster. It appeared as if he were unable to move anything but his eyes. Jeel, lying at the Jilectan's feet, lifted his head to meet Alan's eyes, then he lowered his face to the ground once more, sobbing softly.
Alan couldn't move. He wanted to press the trigger of the blaster, but something prevented him, something that was drawing all his will and attention.
It was the Droma. All his energy was being pulled inexorably toward the little jewel, even as the reassurance and promise of protection continued to envelope him. Halthzor seemed to be in a similar state, for he remained stock still, his eyes riveted on the globe.
The radiance from the Droma grew brighter and Mark advanced another step. Alan was pulled irresistibly along. The glow from the globe brightened as well, and Alan no longer sensed triumph from the thing. The creature was afraid now -- afraid and fighting for its life.
The strange euphoria that seemed to be affecting Mark engulfed him as well. They *could* do it! Halthzor no longer mattered. It was the globe that mattered. They must destroy it, and with both of them lending power to the Droma, they could do it. He relaxed and ceased his efforts to draw his blaster.
The instant he ceased to fight he felt the flow of power increase, draining from him into the Droma. It occurred to him for one amused moment that this must be what Mark felt like when he tapped his partner for power, but the sensation was far from unpleasant. The feeling was one of triumph and satisfaction.
He wondered briefly if the globe was doing the same thing to Halthzor, and if it was, if Halthzor's contribution was voluntary or involuntary. It was then that he saw Miki. The Shirva was running toward them, his hands outstretched. Halthzor didn't move, and Miki landed against Mark's legs, wrapping his arms tightly against the Terran's knees. Through the cloth of his tunic, Alan could see that Miki's Droma was glowing with a light almost equal to Mark's, and at the little alien's touch, Mark's stone gave a blinding flash that seemed to leap outward from the Terrans toward the globe.
It was met halfway by another bolt of light from the globe itself, and as the two connected, Alan was aware of a tingling jolt that contracted his muscles in a spasm of pain. Miki yipped and Mark swore. Halthzor gave an exclamation in his own language.
Another flash of light followed rapidly, succeeded instantly by another jolt, less painful than the first. Miki yipped again but Mark made no sound and, looking up, Alan could see his partner's teeth bared in a fighting grin that was half a grimace. Vividly, Alan was aware of the battle that was taking place between two opposing forces.
Flashes of light erupted between Halthzor and their oddly assorted group, now welded into a strange alliance, each flash carrying with it that numbing shock. There was no more pain, however. Mark's hand crushed his arm but there was no pain at all.
A mighty concussion burst in the center of the clearing. The ground shook and the shock wave hurled him backwards. He landed hard on top of Mark, the impact driving the air from his lungs. For an instant, the forest dimmed out.
**********
Mark landed hard, his head coming into stunning contact with the rocky ground. Alan fell on top of him and he felt his partner's head snap back, striking him on the chin. For a moment their conscious link faded, and Alan's body went slack.
He lay still, stars sparkling before his eyes. Then recollection returned with a shock of adrenaline. Gone was the euphoric confidence and well-being. He was alone except for Alan and Miki, both of whom lay still beside him.
And Halthzor was here! Mark pushed his partner aside and sat up, frantically scanning the scene around him.
It was the Jilectan he saw first. Halthzor lay in a slumped heap, five meters away. Jeel lay three meters from him, to all appearances dead. Close to Alan, Miki lay, a large, extremely bloody cut on his forehead. He also appeared dead, and beside Halthzor was an object that for some reason seemed vaguely familiar. Blackened and warped, one side half-melted away, it still retained a slightly spherical shape. And with a shock, he recognized it as the remains of the Skelzir globe. It was dead, completely destroyed by the Droma.
Automatically, Mark's hand went to the little stone. The string that secured it around his neck was still there, but the stone was gone.
For a moment, he felt frantically for it -- uselessly. It was gone. A spasm of pain went through him, coupled with overwhelming grief, as though for the loss of a beloved friend.
Alan stirred, groaning, trying to lift his head. The link closed, and with the reappearance of the link, Mark felt his grief dissipating. His partner needed help. He was in danger. They were all in danger. Halthzor was moving, lifting himself on his elbows, raising his head. He saw Mark.
With the blurring speed of his species, Halthzor came upright, pulling the blaster from his hip holster. Mark reached for his own weapon, knowing instantly that he would be too late. Alan had twice outdrawn Jils before, but Mark knew that he could not.
Then his blaster was in his hand, lifting, even as Halthzor fired.
Nothing happened. The Jilectan's blaster hissed uselessly, the charge clearly exhausted. Unable to believe his incredible luck, Mark also fired.
Nothing. No beam, no spark of light issued from the weapon. Halthzor was pressing the trigger on his own jewel-encrusted weapon, trying every setting. Nothing.
Mark twisted, disengaging the blaster from Alan's hand, and brought it up, pressing the firing stud -- and again, nothing happened. The weapons were exhausted. Why?
The answer was immediately clear. Somehow, the energy expended during the battle between the Droma and the globe had sucked the energy cells dry. Powerful stuff, all right.
Halthzor was on his feet and approaching, a grim smile on his lips. Mark leaped before Alan, knowing that he had no way of protecting his partner from the alien. Halthzor paused, smiling more widely.
"You cannot escape, Strike Commander," he said.
"Maybe not." Mark spoke tightly. "But you try'n touch my partner an' I'll make things damned messy for you, Jil."
Alan stirred again.
"Alan, wake up!" Mark commanded desperately. "Wake *up*!"
Alan lifted his head, blinking dizzily up at him for several seconds. Comprehension came over his face, and he fumbled for the holster at his hip.
"It won't work," Mark said tightly. "I already tried."
Halthzor came lightly forward, a smile of triumph on his handsome face. He could overpower them, Mark knew. Both of them. The Jilectan was half again as strong as a human man.
"Get up!" he snapped. "Run for it!"
Alan staggered to his feet and leaped to one side, pausing four meters from Mark. Halthzor stopped, his attention split between his two enemies. Alan stood in a half crouch, his eyes fixed on the Jilectan, his face expressionless.
"Come and get me, Jil!" he whispered hoarsely.
The Jilectan lord turned toward him and Mark's heart climbed into his throat. Of the two of them, Alan was less able to put up an effective struggle, and he was also the one that Halthzor wanted the most.
Halthzor advanced toward Alan with a lithe, graceful step. Alan, with surprising dexterity, considering what he had been through, danced back out of range. He was bleeding again, Mark saw, blood running into his eyes from a cut on his forehead. He tossed his head, flicking it away.
"Come and get me, Your Grace," he whispered.
Halthzor lunged forward, making a grab for him. Alan tried to leap out of range, but at last his weakness betrayed him. He stumbled, going heavily to his knees. Halthzor was on him at once and Mark leaped toward them, unsure of what he could do, but knowing he must do something.
His fingers tangled in the Ducal robe as Halthzor rolled away. Mark lost his grip, wrenching one finger painfully as the Jilectan tore free. Halthzor came gracefully to his feet, Alan held before him. The psychic was struggling and kicking frantically in his grasp. Halthzor caught one of his arms and brought it behind him. Alan yelped.
"Be still, Terran." The alien's words were soft and emotionless. "If you struggle, I will break it." He spoke to Mark. "Keep back, Strike Commander."
Mark stopped, mentally gauging the distance between himself and his enemy. Alan's eyes met his for one agonized second.
To one side of the Jilectan, there was movement. Mark's eyes flicked toward it and for a split instant he froze in horror.
A blaster arched through the air toward them, coming to rest less than three meters from Halthzor, at the base of an enormous tree. The Jilectan saw it as well and leaped sideways, releasing Alan and bringing his arms up to protect his face. Alan scrambled away, hurling himself into the brush. Mark spun and dived for cover, striving to put as much distance between himself and the weapon as he could in the scant seconds remaining before the blast.
The blaster exploded.
Mark had put a large tree between himself and the blaster, but even then the concussion hurled him sideways and he landed hard against a thorn bush. Mud, leaves and twigs filled the air around him and from somewhere there was an ominous rending sound. Dazed, he looked up to see the gigantic tree against which the blaster had landed beginning to fall. It was coming down.
The tree fell. For what seemed an eternity, there was mass confusion around him. Mark hugged the rough bark of another forest giant, his eyes closed. Flying debris slapped him stingingly across the face and something struck him hard on the back of the head. He saw stars and his link with Alan, which had formed instantly when his partner had regained consciousness, dissolved.
"Alan!" he shouted. "Where are you?"
Later, he realized that his voice couldn't possibly have been heard through the echoes of the crash, the chaos of splintering branches, and general noise. Branches and leaves shivered and thrashed about for several more minutes before becoming still once more. It seemed to Mark as if the forest was unnaturally silent as he lifted his head. The sudden squawk of a large bird nearby nearly made him jump out of his boots.
The sudden quiet was eerie. Mark tore his way blindly through the branches, back toward the spot where he had last seen Alan. Where was he? Had his partner been killed?
The link quivered on the edge of awareness for a moment, faded, then returned. Suddenly aware of direction, Mark ripped his way through the destruction toward Alan.
"Mark!" He heard Alan's call clearly through the now fully formed link. "Mark, where are you?"
"Here!" he shouted. Linley tore a path through the various obstacles, barking his shin on a rough tree branch. "Where are you?"
"Here!" Mark felt the burst of relief through the link, and then the tie began to fade. "It's okay. I know where you are. I'm coming."
A moment or two later, Alan's face appeared through the tangle of branches. His face was pale; even his lips were colorless, and there was blood streaking his forehead. He was balancing himself by gripping the rough branches that waved on all sides. Mark grabbed him and hugged him with sheer relief. "Are you okay?"
Alan nodded a little jerkily. "I think so. My knee hurts."
Mark had already been aware of it. "I felt something pop just before the link broke. Where's Halthzor?"
Alan glanced around. "I don't know. He let me go when the tree came down. I thought we were both dead."
"Me too. Who threw the blaster?"
"Jeel. Didn't you see him?"
"Uh uh. I was lookin' at Halthzor."
"It was Jeel. He's okay. We must have interrupted things before the globe could harm him. Since he wasn't involved in the fight, I guess his blaster still worked." Alan grimaced. "We should get out of here."
"That's for sure." Mark found that he was trying to look in all directions at once.
"Where are the Shirva?" Alan added. "We have to find them first. You know, I'm not sensing Halthzor at all, now."
"He's probably got his shields up."
"Probably," Alan said. "Maybe the tree hit him. Maybe he's dead."
Mark raised an eyebrow. "You don't really believe that, do you?"
Alan gave a rueful grin. "No."
"Neither do I. Let's find Miki and Jeel."
"You're going to have to give me a hand." Alan gestured vaguely to his knee. "It won't take my weight."
"Let me see it."
Alan started to obey, and suddenly stiffened. "I hear something."
Linley froze, straining his ears, but he heard nothing except the normal forest noises. Of course, Alan's "listening" often did not involve his ears. "What's it sound like?"
"I don't know. Noise. Somebody's coming."
Linley swung his partner to his back. "We gotta get outta here. The Shirva can take care o' themselves."
"Wait!" Alan whispered.
"Mark?" It was Jeel's voice.
Mark let out his breath. "Jeel! Where th'hell are you?"
"Here!" It was a breathless gasp. A twig cracked and Jeel appeared through the tangle of leaves, half-carrying, half-dragging the limp form of Miki. "Help!"
Mark groaned. "Jeel, you're gonna hafta manage. Alan's hurt ... oh, damn! All right, give him here and let's go!"
He took Miki, tucking the Shirva under one arm. Alan hung onto Mark's back. "Mark ..."
"Yeah?"
"The 'trols are coming back."
Mark swore wearily in an undertone and lifted Miki higher, hitching him over one hip. "Tell me which way to go, an' hang on."
"Okay. Go right." Alan's voice sounded a little breathless and the link trembled on the edge of Linley's awareness. "They're coming fast -- scared they might be in trouble with the Duke. Hurry."
"Right." Mark plunged forward, swearing under his breath at the mass of brambles. Jeel moved silently beside him, blowgun in hand.
"M'lord?" The call came from behind and to the left. "Where are you?"
Mark tried to increase his pace. Alan put his lips against Mark's ear. "More of them coming from the right. They're going to cut us off. Bear left."
Linley did so. Alan gave a sudden soft exclamation. "Lyn!"
"What?" Mark gasped.
"She's coming!"
"Well tell her to hurry, for the luvamike!"
"I am! Holy heck, Mark, there's two ahead of us! They've picked us up on their snoopers!"
Linley cussed and turned right, plunging away from the sounds of the approaching patrolmen. Alan said nothing, clutching his shoulders tightly. They broke through the thicker underbrush, into a more open stretch of forest and Mark began to run.
From somewhere, there was a soft, humming sound. An electrical tingle brushed him and he felt his legs buckle. Alan gave a yell of alarm.
Then he was rolling over and over on the forest floor to come up hard an instant later against something rough and unyielding. He lay still, regaining his breath, and then raised his head.
There were patrolmen all around him, blasters leveled. Alan was sprawled next to him, also lifting his head to blink dizzily at the men surrounding them. Miki lay beside him, still unconscious. There was no sign of Jeel.
The nearest patrolman, whose helmet bore the insignia of a lieutenant, advanced, pointing his weapon at Mark's nose.
"Okay, Linley!" he barked. "Whatcha done with the Duke?"
Mark shrugged, the movement sending a dozen electric shocks down his spine. "I dunno. Dead, I guess. That big tree came down on him."
The man swore unimaginatively. "Perkins! Take your men and go look. Move!"
Alan groaned softly and rolled to his back, pushing himself to his elbows in the same motion. Blasters swung to center on him.
"Don't move, Westover!" the Lieutenant snapped. "Evanston! Get the crawler! We gotta get these two outta here!"
A familiar sensation washed over Mark. Alan was using power and tapping him for energy. The Lieutenant was speaking into his helmet's throat mike. "Lieutenant Weaver to base! Send reinforcements and an antigrav lifter on the double! Home in on these coordinates!"
There was no response. Again, Mark felt the power drain, then again. The Lieutenant was tapping the unit. "Base! Do you read? Corporal Sanchez! Dammit, come in! Are you readin' me?"
Mark kept his face blank, despite his sudden realization of what his partner had done. The unit remained silent.
"Johnson!" the Lieutenant ordered, "My com's on the fritz. Call the base!"
Johnson complied. "Base, come in. This is Patrolman Johnson."
Complete silence answered the call. The power drain had ceased, and Alan slumped limply back, closing his eyes. Johnson fiddled with the unit. "It seems to be dead, sir. I can't even hear any static."
Suddenly all the patrolmen -- ten of them by Mark's quick nose count -- were trying their communicators. Linley had to work to keep his face expressionless, glancing at the apparently half-conscious form of his partner. Alan was a whiz at disabling com units, and must have been doing nothing else for the past sixty seconds or so.
"What th'hell's wrong with 'em?" the Lieutenant asked.
"Crazy, sir, all of 'em going out like that at once ..."
The crawler came trundling through the underbrush, crunching branches and greenery under its treads. Mark watched as Alan was heaved to a patrolman's shoulder and carried toward the vehicle. Again came the power drain, and an instant later the soft growl of the crawler's engine died.
The patrolman carrying Alan started to lift him inside. The driver of the vehicle spoke. "Just a minute, Jock. I can't get her to start. Hold on ..."
The man paused, Alan limp in his hold, his head sagging, the picture of dejection and defeat. The crawler's driver cussed.
"Something's wrong, sir. It was okay a minute ago, but now it just isn't working."
The Lieutenant frowned. "Now what th' ..." He stopped, and comprehension came over his features, mixed with annoyance. "Westover, you little devil! Stun him, Johnson! Evanston, get out of there and go tell Clyde we need the other crawler. Move it!"
Evanston obeyed, and the patrolman carrying Alan began to lower him to the ground.
There was a sound, then -- a very familiar sound. It was a soft hiss, almost like steam escaping from a kettle. Muffled by the rain as it was, Mark thought at first that he had imagined it.
Alan's voice shouted suddenly in his mind, so loud that he jumped. *Hold your breath!*
Linley obeyed, gulping a lungful of air and holding it. An instant later, the patrolmen were crumpling to their knees with moans and curses. Alan's voice shouted at him again, telling him to run, and instantly, he was up, staggering a little with the pins and needles that seemed to shoot through his muscles. With two quick movements, he swept up Miki and Alan, and lurched away with them through the trees.
Behind them were muted curses, groans and retching sounds. Mark kept moving. He staggered through wet shrubbery, rain slapping him in the face.
At last, he could run no more. He dove forward through a mass of leaves and tangled vines, generously supplied with thorns, and fell flat, gasping for breath. Beside him, Alan was gagging miserably.
"You okay?" Mark asked.
"Sure ... not bad ..." Alan got the words out, then rolled to his stomach and began to lose his last meal rather violently on the forest floor.
"Got a whiff of the Chu, huh?"
Alan didn't reply. Mark patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. "Easy, there. You'll feel better in a minute."
A Shirva face appeared through the shrubbery and Jeel grinned cheerfully at them. "Hi there!" he piped.
"Hi, Jeel. Thanks for the rescue."
"Oh, it wasn't just me," Jeel said. He chuckled shrilly. "I had lotsa help!"
Lyn Parnell's face appeared beside the Shirva's. She smiled happily. "We both did."
Linley stared at her. "What're you talkin' about, baby?"
"Them," Lyn said.
There was a sudden rustling in the underbrush and around Lyn and Jeel there crowded an immense mob of the Shirva people. They were chattering and laughing, their faces alight with welcome. Alan was lifted upright and one of the little people held a leaf under his nose. Alan jerked back with a sharp gasp.
"It's the antidote," Lyn said, solicitously. "Breathe deep. It'll make you feel better."
Alan nodded and obeyed stoically. Within seconds, his face cleared and a little color came into his cheeks. "Where's the 'trols?" He managed.
"Gone," Jeel said, airily. He knelt beside Miki. "Is he okay, Alan?"
Alan examined the unconscious Shirva. "I think it's just a good knock on the head. Let's get him back to the ship."
Mark slapped his partner on the back. "You okay now?"
"I'm fine. The antidote worked."
"You knew they was comin', didn'tcha? That's why you was bustin' the coms an' the crawler."
Alan nodded. "Lyn told me."
Lyn looked worried. "No I didn't. I don't see how you sensed me, anyway. I had my shields up all the time. Sure, I know my shielding isn't that good, but I thought it was good enough to keep other psychics from sensing me. I don't think Halthzor did."
"You forget," Alan said, simply, "that we've been doing this for some time. We're used to each other's minds." He smiled, taking her hand. "Even with your shields up, you found me. Remember?"
Mark felt his jaw drop as Alan's words registered. Alan had picked up another partner -- a *psychic* psychic partner, this time, and a female. *He* knew the results of that kind of relationship. Everyone in the Underground did.
He put a hand on his partner's shoulder. "I guess Lorie'll understand, kid."
Alan went bright red.
"Who's Lorie?" Lyn asked.
"One of the nurses at the base," Mark said. "She has a crush on Alan."
Alan swung at him and Mark skipped back out of range, laughing. "Sorry, pal. I'll never mention it again."
"We better move it," Jeel said. "We still got a job to do, you know."
"True," Mark said. "C'mon, kids, time's a-wastin'."
**********
Epilogue
Walter Kaley stood before the assembled crowd of Shirva, looking very calm and official. He cleared his throat and spoke. Alan translated as rapidly as he could for the benefit of any Shirva who did not yet speak Basic. Considering the ease with which the little people seemed to learn languages, and the fact that the entire population of the Shirva had been on the Lavirra Base for three weeks, that number was gratifyingly small.
"The Terran Underground is pleased to assist another species in its fight for survival. The planet that is your destination is a world of the Terran Confederation known as Midgard. One continent of this world has been settled by Terrans, but the southern continent is as yet unpopulated, and under the laws of the Confederation, open to claim by your people. The climate is similar to Kasal's and fruit is abundant. My staff has assured me that as long as you consume at least one of these fruits a day, you will remain free of the disease that afflicted your people when they were deprived of the Lemke. If there is anything you need, you are to go to Miki and Lieutenant Timmar, who has volunteered to act as liaison for the next year, to assist in dealing with any unforeseen problems that arise during the transition." The General glanced at the Shirva and the Arcturian who were standing beside Alan. "They will relay the message to me, and we will attempt to supply your needs. In return, we ask that you support us in our struggle against the Jilectans. If we need you, we will contact you. In the meantime, live your lives as usual, and do not worry about the Patrol. Midgard is a planet in the Terran Confederation, and there are no Patrol bases there." He paused. "Any questions?"
There were none.
"Thank you for your attention," Kaley said. He stepped down from the podium.
A cheer went up, and the Shirva rushed the General, embracing his legs, chattering and laughing. One of them, smaller than Miki, and female, leaped lightly into his arms and caught him around the neck in a stranglehold.
Alan laughed softly at Kaley's expression of mingled confusion, embarrassment and pleasure. Then he, too, was being embraced, as well as Mark, who stood behind him. Lyn, standing at the foot of the podium was half-buried in the little people. She looked up at Alan, and he felt clearly her half-embarrassed pleasure at the unrestrained gratitude of the Shirva. She had come a long way in a very short time, he thought, from the arrogant daughter of a Patrol officer to the psychic partner of the Terran Underground's most wanted psychic. In spite of their initial meeting, the mutual dislike and misunderstanding, the link between them had triumphed as it always did in the history of psychic partnerships. Lyn was unquestionably part of his life and future now. Neither of them doubted it. The speed with which it had happened should have surprised him, but then, his partnership with Mark had happened with equal speed, when Strike Commander Linley had thrown his hard-won rank back in the faces of his masters to save Alan's life. The psychic link was a force to be reckoned with, as even the High Command on Terra had been forced to acknowledge. Looking down at his newest partner now, he could only marvel.
"Well," Linley said, lowering one of the little people gently to the ground, "it's nice to be with folks who appreciate your efforts." His voice fell. "It's too bad, though, really."
"What is?"
"That the Droma had to be destroyed."
Alan nodded. "I'm sorry, Mark."
Linley shrugged, and Alan could tell he was trying to make his voice light. "Aw hell, it was just a rock."
"It was more than that," Alan said, soberly. "I've talked to some of the ones who have them."
"What did you find out?"
Alan sighed. "The Shirva wise man I spoke to had a hard time explaining. He was a telepath, too, but even with telepathy we didn't quite connect. There's a lot I still don't understand. The Dromas are composed of energy -- psychic energy, which is somehow converted into matter. That's where we ran into trouble. He really didn't explain how. I don't think he *could*. I'm not sure he knew, himself." He hesitated. "Did you ever feel like the Droma was alive?"
Linley shrugged and cleared his throat. "Yeah, I did. Crazy, huh?"
"No, not crazy. I got a similar impression from the Shirva I spoke to, and from Miki, himself. I don't think they're *exactly* alive, you see --"
"No, I don't."
"Neither do I," Alan said. "Some experts want to study the Dromas, but I think the Shirva turned them down."
"I don't blame 'em. I didn't want nobody studyin' mine. Besides, if I was one of 'em, I wouldn't want a bunch of aliens -- even friendly ones -- messin' around with a tribal secret."
Alan nodded. He could understand the reluctance of the tribal leaders when it came to the Dromas, but there was one small spark of comfort that he could offer his large partner. "I don't blame them," he said soberly, "but there's something you should know. The Droma picked you, and that means something important in their society. The Elder I spoke to said that Miki had already told him the story of what you did for them, and the way you sacrificed the Droma to stop the globe and to save Jeel. He told me that you're part of their tribe now, and said something about trying to get you another Droma."
"Huh?"
"Yes. He seemed to feel very sorry for you. I guess it's a pretty terrible thing to have a Droma destroyed. He said it could take years. Apparently it's a pretty long, complicated process, but a few of them still know how it's done."
"I'd like that," Mark said. "It was kinda like losin' a friend." He glanced at Miki, who was chattering and laughing to Jeel, both of them surrounded by a massive crowd of their people. "So I'm an honorary Shirva, huh?"
Alan nodded. "And as your psychic partner, I am, too."
Normally, Mark would have roared with laughter at the idea, but Linley surprised him. "Well, if somebody's gonna adopt me, I can think of a lot worse candidates than this bunch. I'm gonna kinda miss 'em."
"So am I," Alan said. "There's nothing to prevent us from dropping in sometime to say hello, when we're in the neighborhood, though."
"I wouldn't mind that," Mark said. "I guess we're not likely to run into any more Skelzir globes on Midgard."
"I hope not," Alan said. "I still have nightmares about it."
"Me too," Mark said. "I'd sure like to know how it got where they found it -- and how the Shirva ever managed to run into them. The thing couldn't move under its own power, but I've never met anythin' more dangerous."
"Me either," Alan said. "And it was definitely a life form. I wish we knew where it came from originally."
"Me too. Hellish thing. How about the guy it took over?"
"Tarfee?" Alan sighed. "They don't know. Dr. Mishamoto says there's nerve damage, but they think they can retrain him, using what the thing left him. He's eating again, anyway, like a baby, though, using his fingers."
"Poor guy." Linley shook his head slowly. "I sure hope there ain't any more o' those critters lyin' around the Sector."
"Me, too," Alan said. "One was more than enough."
The End
