Giant Killer: 10/12
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
18
"STEVE LAWSON, WILL YOU AND YOUR PARTY PLEASE REPORT TO THE SHUTTLE LOBBY ...!"
"There it is," Alan said. He nudged Mark, who was dozing in the chair beside him. "Let's go."
Together they headed across the spaceport toward the lobby. As they entered, a stocky, dark-haired man came toward them. "Mr. Lawson and Mr. Woodruff?"
"Yes?" Alan already had a mental finger reaching for the other man's mind. Instantly he encountered shielding, which lowered almost automatically at the touch of his probe. This was Lieutenant Waldorf Cross, Terran Underground, here from the Los Angeles station.
Alan glanced at Mark and nodded slightly. The newcomer was speaking and extending a hand toward them. "Waldorf Cross from L.A. I'm sure glad to see you both." He frowned suddenly. "Good grief! What happened to you, Mr. Woodruff?"
"He had an argument with a street," Mark said. "It won."
Cross looked confused. "Really? For some reason Phil had the impression that you'd gone down in the jungle."
"We did," Alan said. "This happened on Riskell."
"I see. Well, once we're in the aircar, I'd like to hear what happened. This way." He glanced around. "You have luggage? No, of course not!" He led the way across the lobby and out of the spaceport. They stepped onto a slidewalk that bore them smoothly toward the parking area. Alan glanced abstractedly at the large, glowing digits on the side of the spaceport that announced that it was 0214 hours and 32 degrees Celsius. The air still felt hot and humid outside the air-conditioned building.
Cross's aircar was a modest craft with a large, very recent-looking dent marring the fender. Their escort glanced at it and sighed.
"That happened just this afternoon," he said. "L.A.'s famous for being hard on cars. My wife, Eileen, went shopping, and when she came back she found it like this."
Alan ran his hand lightly over the dent and closed his eyes. An image formed behind his closed lids. "Uh ... this was done by a young man -- about eighteen or nineteen -- driving a large, ground vehicle, probably blue or green in color ..."
Cross's eyebrows flew up. "Really? I've heard some stories about you, Lieutenant, but I didn't realize --"
Mark slapped Alan on the shoulder, grinning proudly. "He's the best they've ever found."
"Yet," Alan said quickly.
"We have a clairvoyant at the base," Cross said. "He's a good one, but he couldn't get a trace. I asked him to try. I mean, good grief, this car just had a brand new paint job."
Alan could feel his face burning. "I doubt if I've been any help, really. I can't tell you his name or anything."
Cross shrugged, but he still looked impressed. "It doesn't matter, of course. The insurance will pay for it. Get in, and we'll be on our way."
A few minutes later, they were airborne. Cross set the controls and turned to his two passengers. "Now that we can talk freely, let me introduce myself more fully. I'm Lieutenant Cross, second in command at the Los Angeles station. Captain Connors told me you needed a lift to Station Seven. That's all I know."
"How long will it take?" Alan asked.
"About nine hours."
Alan glanced uselessly at his chronometer. "I guess there's a time difference, isn't there?"
The man nodded. "They're about seven hours ahead of us, and in the northern hemisphere."
"Any sign of Julia yet?" Linley asked.
"The Austell girl? None at all." He threw Alan a swift glance. "Captain Connors says you think she's still alive."
"Yes," Alan said.
Cross cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I know this sounds silly, but how do you know?"
Alan produced the bracelet. "This is hers. There's a lot of sentimental value attached to it. If she was dead, I'm sure I'd sense it."
"I see," Cross said. "I lost a younger sister to the Jils a few years ago, Lieutenant, so don't get me wrong. I believe you. It's just ... well, I've never encountered a psychic before that seemed so completely sure of himself."
Alan looked down. "I'm not, really. I'm just a learner so far. Mark and I are both still in training. It's just that -- well, when you can see that something is a certain way, you don't doubt your eyesight. It's the same way with this."
"I guess so," Cross said noncommittally and changed the subject. "So, tell me how you got that beautiful shiner."
**********
Cross had apparently heard that they had encountered a Jilectan while on Riskell but hadn't realized that it had been Halthzor. Mark took up the story when Alan reached the part where they had gone down in the jungle and quickly concluded the tale. Cross pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Well," he commented after a moment, "Miss Austell is right on the ball, all right. Sure hope we can pick her up. Station Seven's keeping a careful watch for her. They have her photo, but judging by the description you say the trader gave, she's managed to change her appearance considerably. The picture is of a very striking young woman."
"She is," Alan said. "She'd never have made it this far if she hadn't managed to disguise herself somehow."
"That speaks well of her. It sounds as if she's somebody the Underground would like to have."
"Well, maybe if we can find her, she'll think so too," Mark said. "I don't see what else she can do."
The dark waves rushed past beneath them as the aircar flew north and east. After a time, the sun rose over the horizon and wintry sunshine sparkled on the water. Alan dozed. His dreams weren't restful, and he found himself waking frequently, so he wasn't sure when he began to feel the sensation of genuine uneasiness. At first it was faint: almost unnoticeable, really, but after an hour it began to grow. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and slid a hand into his pocket, once again gripping the bracelet. The sensations were coming from the little piece of jewelry. Julia was in danger again.
"Is somethin' wrong?" Mark asked.
He nodded. "I think so. How much farther?"
Cross glanced at him. "A little under four hours. What's the matter?"
"I think Julia's in trouble."
"Oh, damn!" Mark said.
"What kind of trouble?" Cross asked.
"I don't know. I'm sensing danger."
The little car increased its velocity slightly. Another hour went by and slowly, the sensation diminished and then disappeared altogether.
"It's gone," Alan said. "Whatever happened, she got through it all right."
The car's videophone beeped and Cross glanced toward it. "Hello?"
"Hello, Wally." It was the voice of Phil Connors. "I have some news for you and your passengers."
"Yes?"
"There's been a disturbance at the Courthouse here. Two police officers were assaulted."
"And?"
"And Miss Austell was supposedly at the scene."
"I don't doubt it," Mark said, acidly. "She's good at assaults. They're her specialty."
Alan grinned. "Anything else, Pop?"
"Yes, now that you mention it," Connors said. "The Patrol showed up. Chased and arrested a bunch of citizens who apparently helped Miss Austell escape."
"Oh, gosh!"
"Don't worry about it," Phil told him. "I don't think they'll dare do anything. They're on Terra, and it'd raise a stink if they start carrying off people who just happened to be on the scene. Most of 'em have already been released. Just in case, we've got a couple of lawyers who'll raise a whole bunch of jurisdiction issues if they try anything, and a media team that'll broadcast it all over the Confederation. We can tie it up for years if it comes down to that, and stir up a lot of trouble, but I don't think they'll bother. Their bosses have bigger fish to fry."
Alan sighed. "That's good. What about Julia?"
"No sign of her. One 'trol was killed. Broken neck, according to the reports. His blaster was taken but nothing else, so apparently it wasn't just a routine mugging."
"Sounds like Miss Austell's been learnin' some self defense techniques," Mark said. "Guess I'm lucky she didn't have no grudge against me."
"I don't know," Alan said, doubtfully. "Do you think someone like her would study karate or anything?"
"Lotsa upper crust ladies do," Mark said. "It's kinda the fashion right now."
"There's also a report that a Terran police car was stolen at about the same time all this occurred," Phil's voice said. "There may be no connection."
There was a pause and then Cross spoke into the unit. "Is that all?"
"For the moment. I'll keep you informed. We've got people combing the city, but so far we've drawn a blank."
Mark snorted. "Somehow, I ain't surprised," he said dryly.
"We'll be there soon," Cross said. "A little over two hours to go."
"Good. Once Alan's here, we should get some results. 'Bye." The line went dead.
19
The day was cold and the sunlight was already beginning to fade as Julia and Dannar strode down the icy sidewalks. As before, the Arcturian seemed unaffected by the cold, but Julia shivered in the borrowed coat, pulling it closely about her. Snowflakes began to drift lazily from the leaden sky.
Dannar paused a few minutes later to purchase both of them some sandwiches and Julia a cup of tea from a street vendor. They wandered on, not hurrying, and looking around with interest at the city. People passed, glancing with varying expressions at her companion. Dannar didn't appear to notice. He finished his sandwich and dropped the wrapper into a waste container. "Ah! Zat wass wonderful!"
Julia agreed wholeheartedly, and a few moments later Dannar stopped again, this time to purchase hot turnovers stuffed with spiced meat. Julia ate hers, surprised at the way her appetite had returned. The loss of her family remained a dull ache within her, and she knew it would be with her a long time. Deliberately, she turned her thoughts away from the tragedy, glancing at Dannar. He seemed to sense her mood, for suddenly he placed a scaled arm around her shoulders. Again she felt faintly surprised at the warmth behind his scaled hide.
"Perhapss ziss will all be over soon," he said quietly. "We are very close to our destination."
Julia nodded. "How do I look? I don't want to be recognized by anyone."
"Who are we ssupposed to meet zere?"
"A boy by the name of Alan Woodruff. I know him -- in fact, I spent a whole day with him right before this happened."
"He iss an Underground ashent?"
"I don't know. I think so."
The Arcturian hissed softly. "Who told you to go to ziss Finnian's Imports?"
"Max Ducati. He was my father's secretary. He told me to go to Finnian's Imports and give something to Alan Woodruff. Then he held off the Patrol until I could get away." Julia hesitated. "I suppose Finnian's Imports could belong to the Underground -- or it might just be a place to meet him. I don't know, and I sure don't want to take any chances of being recognized by someone who --"
"Ahh, yess. I understand. Zere is always a wolf in ze fold, az zee old ssaying goess. Someone more interessted in ze reward zan in ze welfare of hiss own people." Dannar surveyed her thoughtfully. "Your hair iss ze real problem, Shulia. It iss such a stranshe color. Let uss ssee ..." He glanced around. "Perhaps a wig --"
Julia nodded. "Maybe we could find a place that sells them."
"Perhapss ziss one?" Dannar gestured at a shop just ahead of them that advertised costumes and party supplies.
"Maybe," Julia said
"I will go ssee. You wait here."
"All right." Julia seated herself on a bench, taking another bite from her turnover. Dannar turned and entered the store.
He was gone perhaps twenty minutes. The last of the light was fading from the sky when he emerged, a package under one arm. "Here you go, Shulia."
Julia took out the wig and nearly laughed. It was a mass of red curls standing out in a frizzy mop, in a style favored on Riskell over three years ago. Well, if nothing else, it would certainly change her appearance. She stepped into a recess in the wall of buildings and slipped it on, tucking stray wisps of blond hair beneath. Dannar hissed softly, watching her.
"You look utterly dreadful," he said at last. "But you alsso look very different."
Julia couldn't help smiling. "I wish I could see myself. I've always wondered what I'd look like as a redhead."
"Ze color you were born wiz iss far more attractive," he assured her. "But at least no one iss likely to recognize you in zat dreadful zing." He surveyed her a moment longer. "Perhapss a little more dirt would be beneficial, zough." He bent, collecting a handful of muddy slush. Julia nodded and sighed.
"All right, go ahead."
He warmed it between his palms for a few moments before smearing it liberally across her face and neck. His taloned hands were amazingly gentle where they touched her skin.
"Zere," he said finally. "Zat should do it. You appear quite repulsive -- nozzing at all like your picture, I assure you."
"Thank you," she said.
His fangs flashed wickedly. "Shall we go?"
"All right." Julia hooked an arm through his and again they proceeded down the street. People passed, bundled against the cold. The snow thickened.
"Zere it iss," Dannar said at last.
Finnian's Imports was a small, low building, set back from the street. It appeared dingy and the front was in need of a new paint job. It matched well with the other buildings around it. In fact, this whole area appeared barely more than a slum.
Dannar was watching her. "I do not zink we should go in togezzer," he said suddenly.
"Huh? Why not?"
"If ze Shils have somehow learned of your destination, zey will be watching for you. I will follow one or two minutess after you and I will appear not to know you. Zen, if anyone becomess suspicious of you, I can dispatch him and we can run."
Julia swallowed nervously. "All right. I hope Alan's there."
"Sso do I. What did ziss man look like?"
"He's not a man -- at least he didn't look like one. He told me he was nearly nineteen, but he looked about fifteen or sixteen. He's short and slender and has dark hair. His eyes are brown."
"Indeed." Dannar appeared to consider that. "Very well," he said at last. "You had besst go on. I will follow."
"Don't take too long." Julia squeezed his hand and felt his warm, reassuring grasp in reply. Strange, how her feelings toward Dannar had changed over the past hours. She understood now the Arcturians' concept of friendship -- a concept that she had cared little about all her life. Dannar was her friend. He had saved her life twice and she had no doubt now that he would unhesitatingly do so again, even at the risk of his own safety.
She turned and went slowly toward the building.
Finnian's Imports was larger than it had appeared from the outside. The walls were lined with shelves that were packed with everything from ornate pots and pans to the jaws of some unidentified monster. This couldn't be an Underground base, she thought incredulously. It must be simply a meeting place, prearranged by the Underground's agents, should an emergency arise such as the one Ducati had found himself in.
Against one wall was a broad counter and a woman was seated behind it. She was slender, perhaps in her late twenties, and her brown hair was tied carelessly back from her face. Seated on the floor in front of the counter was a small boy with a round, dirty face. His blue overalls were black at the knees, probably from the floor over which he had undoubtedly been crawling. As Julia entered, he squealed happily and knocked over a huge stack of blocks, which fell with an enormous clatter.
The woman glanced up. "Hello, Miss. Can I help you?"
"I'm just browsing, thank you." Julia turned away, pretending to examine one of the shelves, while covertly scanning the shop. She was alone. No other customers were to be seen. Trying to act casual, she picked up a small, glass figurine.
"From Ranlach," the woman said. "Nice quality. Are you looking for a gift for someone?"
"No. Just looking." Julia replaced the article and picked up another. Max had told her to *ask* for Alan Woodruff. What should she do? Ask this woman? And what if the Jils knew about this meeting place? Julia had often heard her father say how well the Jils understood Terran thoughts and emotions. A woman with a baby would be trusted, whereas a man would not. But this woman, baby or no, could still be a Jil plant.
Behind her there was the soft sound of the door opening. Two Terrans entered and Julia felt her heart jump with sudden anticipation.
But instantly, she realized that neither of the newcomers was Alan. They were both older and much larger than the boy she sought. The woman glanced toward them. "Hello, gentlemen. May I help you?"
Julia turned back to her shelf, spine prickling. The door opened again and Dannar entered.
He never glanced toward her, but went over to the woman. Julia heard his sibilant voice inquiring about some off world product and, out of the corner of her eye, saw the woman point. "Third shelf to the left, sir."
Julia glanced around hopelessly. No Alan. Perhaps he worked here. Was it possible? He had said he worked for a company, but Finnian's Imports? And that car he drove! Surely it could not have been supplied by this place, unless the company was a lot richer than it appeared.
The woman was suddenly beside her. "Are you looking for something in particular, Miss? I'm sure I could help you if you'll just give me some idea of what you're looking for."
"Uh ... " Julia looked into the little woman's clear blue eyes searchingly. "I'm ... I'm not exactly looking for anything. I'm waiting for someone. Do you know an Alan Woodruff?"
The woman's eyes wavered for just an instant, but her reply was prompt. "There was a young man here a little while ago. He told me he was looking for a young woman he was supposed to meet. He went to get some supper, but said he'd be back in an hour or so. Would you like to wait for him?"
Something was wrong. Julia, her nerves heightened by the fear and tension of the past days, felt it immediately. This was all too convenient. The woman wanted her to wait here -- for what? So she could summon the Jilectans and inform them that Julia Austell had arrived in search of Alan Woodruff? Perhaps Alan had already been captured. They could have picked him up as he left the outer grounds, two days ago.
The woman was watching her, and something in her attitude had altered. She was tense now, and expectant. Julia took a quick step back from her. "No, thank you. If Alan comes, tell him that I was here."
The woman came after her, her step light and quick. A hand closed on Julia's wrist.
"No, Miss." Her voice was coaxing and concerned. "He'll be back. He told me to ask you to wait. Now, come into the back and sit down. There's coffee there, and you can relax and warm up."
Julia tried to pull her hand free, but the woman's appearance belied her strength, and the grip on Julia's wrist was the clever hold of someone trained in such techniques. Suddenly very frightened, Julia wrenched at the other woman's hand. "Let me go!"
A stunner appeared in the woman's other hand and the muzzle touched Julia's midriff. "You'll come with me, Miss," she whispered softly. "Now. If you struggle or make a scene, I'll stun you and explain to the other customers that you were spotted shoplifting. Move."
A green-scaled arm encircled the woman's throat and a taloned hand descended on her wrist. She gave a gasp of surprise and then one of pain as Dannar deftly disarmed her. Julia stepped quickly back as the Arcturian shoved his victim to the floor and calmly stunned her with her own weapon.
The other two customers were gaping at them in astonishment. Dannar grasped Julia by the wrist and, together, they dashed for the door. One of the men yelled something, and another figure appeared from the rear of the shop. Julia had the vague impression of a tall, red haired man charging around the counter. Dannar fired again and the fellow sprawled forward.
Then, they were through the door and out into the snowy night. Dannar pulled her to the left and they ran down a littered street. Faint through the wail of the wind, Julia heard a shout, but she didn't pause. Together, they ran headlong down the sidewalk and whipped left into another street. Again, they ran, turning right into a dark, odorous alley, then left again into another.
For perhaps ten minutes their flight continued. Then Julia paused, gasping. Dannar also stopped, breathing only slightly faster than normal. One of his arms encircled her waist, protectively.
"Oh dear!" Julia managed. "They must have caught Alan -- they must have found out where I was going through him. They were waiting for us."
"I do not zink sso," Dannar said.
Julia stared at him. "What do you mean?"
"It iss possible," Dannar said, "zat ze lady wass an Underground ashent."
Julia shook her head fiercely. "She had a stunner!"
Dannar's fangs gleamed briefly. "You have not sseen yourself, Shulia. You do not look like ze Miss Ausstell for whom zey are watching. I admit, it iss possible zat she iss a Shil ashent, which iss why I interfered, but it iss alsso possible zat she iss a member of ze Underground zat simply did not recognize you. If ziss iss sso, she would not dare admit to you zat she knew ziss Alan Woodruff, for if she did, and *you* were ze Shil ashent, she would be admitting zat she belonged to ze Underground."
"But --"
"And wizzout doubt, zere are many rumors now circulating about you, and among zese rumors, I suspect, iss one of your capture. If ze lady knew of ziss rumor, she would have to be very careful of you. What exactly did she ssay?"
Julia told him. Dannar hissed softly. "Perhapss she wanted to get you into ze back where you could be examined more closely for disguise."
Julia nodded reluctantly. "You might be right. Oh dear --"
The Arcturian placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Perhapss we should --"
Something struck her from behind, sending her staggering to her knees in the littered alley, and a booted foot kicked her, knocking her forward on her face. A heavy weight descended on her back, and she felt hands slapping at her clothing. The wallet was jerked from her coat pocket.
"Got it!" a voice yelled. From somewhere there were cries and the sound of a struggle. Dannar hissed fiercely, and someone yelped in pain. Julia twisted about, striking wildly at her assailant. Above her, she saw a dark, bearded face, and long, greasy hair. Suddenly very angry, she reached for the man's beard and twisted her hands in it, pulling with all her might.
The mugger cursed and then howled in pain. Knuckles cracked across her face, but she clenched her fists on the beard and pulled harder. Something gave, and she found herself clutching a handful of coarse, curly hair. There was another howl and then a shouted order from the other mugger. The dark form above her scrambled away and vanished. There was the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps.
Dannar pulled her to her feet. "Shulia! Are you all right?"
"Get him!" Julia gasped. "He took the wallet! It's got the information in it -- the information I was supposed to give Alan!"
Dannar spun instantly and Julia saw him sprint down the alley after the men. Dizzily, she braced herself against a wall. Something warm ran down her chin.
Running footsteps pounded toward her. Julia jerked around and saw a large Terran sprinting toward her from the direction opposite to the one in which Dannar and the muggers had vanished. Panic surged through her and she tried to run.
Hands caught her from behind, grasping her wrists and bringing them behind her in what she now recognized as a Patrol armlock. She screamed, kicking backwards and trying to wrench free. "Dan! Help! Help me!"
Gentle fingers closed on her shoulders and a voice spoke, somehow penetrating her blind panic. "Julia, it's all right. It's me."
She froze, twisting to peer over her shoulder. The first thing she saw was dark, unruly hair and large, brown eyes.
"Alan!" she gasped.
"Yes."
The grip on her wrists relaxed and Julia half fell into Alan's arms. Tears rose in her throat, and now she didn't fight them, but let them have their way. Helplessly, she sobbed against Alan's lean, muscular shoulder, feeling his grip tighten reassuringly. His hand patted her between the shoulder blades.
"It's all right." His voice was curiously calm and soothing. "You're safe now."
For what seemed a long time, he held her, speaking in that low, gentle voice, and slowly, Julia's sobs lessened. She straightened up, still hiccuping faintly, and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of the coat. "I went to Finnian's Imports, but you weren't there. Where *were* you?"
He handed her a handkerchief. "I'm sorry," he said, contritely. "I came as fast as I could."
A taller, much larger figure stepped up beside Alan and Julia found herself looking into a blond, handsome and vaguely familiar face. "Who --"
"This is my partner," Alan said. "Steve Lawson." He turned suddenly, his head cocked to the side, as though listening. "Someone's coming." Quickly, he reached beneath his shirt and withdrew a blaster.
"There were two muggers," Julia began.
"It's an Arcturian," Alan said. His blaster swung slightly to the left. "He sees us." Slowly and carefully, he lowered the weapon. "Don't shoot, Dannar. We're friends."
Julia stared at Alan. "How did you --"
Dannar's voice spoke from the shadows. "I have you covered. Sstep slowly away from ze lady. Now."
"It's all right, Dan," Julia said. "This is Alan Woodruff and his friend."
Dannar materialized from the shadows, blaster in hand, taking in the two newcomers. "Alan Woodruff? Ah!" The blaster disappeared. "I am very glad to meet you, ssir!"
Alan nodded, replacing his blaster as well. "How do you do, Dannar?"
"Not sso good." The Arcturian glanced back down the alley. "Zey got away, ssir. I am ssorry."
"Who got away?" Alan asked.
"Muggers," Julia told him dolefully. "They took the wallet. It had the information in it that Max told me to give to you."
"I followed zem azz far azz ze next sstreet," Dannar said apologetically. "Zen I losst zem. Zey were too fast and zey know ze neighborhood too well."
Julia stepped back from Alan, noting absently that she still held the chunk of beard that she had ripped from her assailant's beard. Slowly, she released her grip, letting the dark strands fall to the snowy pavement.
Alan stared down at them. "What's that?"
"Some hair from the man who took the wallet. I pulled it out while I was fighting him."
There was an instant of silence. Then, with a strange eagerness, Alan bent and began to gather up the discarded strands. Steve Lawson laughed abruptly and squatted down to help him. "Miss Austell, honey, you've saved the day again!"
"What do you mean?"
Dannar gave an odd, hissing chuckle and Alan stood up, smiling confidently. "Can you take us to the spot where you lost them, Dan?"
"Of course, ssir. Ziss way." He turned and led them down the alley. Alan spoke to Julia.
"What did the wallet look like?"
"It was black," she told him. "A man's wallet -- sort of old and beat up."
"I coulda toldja that, kid," Lawson said.
Julia glanced at him curiously. "Max gave me a ticket, back on the Embassy grounds. He told me to take it to Finnian's Imports and give it to you."
Alan nodded. "Yes, I know."
They emerged from the alley and Dannar led them across a dimly lighted street. Julia glanced around, but there was no sign of the men.
"They're gone," she said.
"Take it easy, honey," Steve said. "Alan'll find 'em."
Julia stared at him, puzzled. "How?"
"Never mind. He will."
"Here," Dannar said. "I came around ziss corner and zey were gone." He paused, watching Alan expectantly.
Alan nodded, looking casually around, and stepped forward to take the lead. One hand, Julia saw, was resting lightly on the arm of his large friend, and the other clutched the shock of hair. He strode unhesitatingly across another street and then down an alley, which turned into another alley. Alan increased his pace. "He's close. I think -- Julia?"
"Yes?"
"Are you certain that the man you got the hair from is the one that took the wallet?"
"Positive."
"Good. We've got him, then." Alan started to step down from the curb and Steve pulled him back as a taxi went by, its horn blaring. Alan hardly seemed to notice. He was speaking dreamily. "They separated here. This way."
"How do you know?" Julia demanded.
Alan didn't answer. He crossed the street and entered a large, dimly illuminated city park. Naked trees rose on both sides, stark and bleak against the overcast sky. Snow covered bushes lined the rocky pathway.
"He's straight ahead," Alan whispered.
How did he *know*? How could he possibly know? Julia stared at the short, muscular figure of Alan Woodruff with a sense of unreality. How had he known, two days ago, that she would be walking into danger on the Embassy grounds? How had he known her name? He seemed to know so many things that he had no way of knowing --
And suddenly, incredibly, Julia understood. Memory returned -- vivid memory of her bracelet clutched in the white, six-fingered hand of Lord Danthvor. So the rumors were true! Terran psychics *did* exist, and Alan was one of them: a clairvoyant, tracing the mugger from the hair she had pulled from the man's beard! A Terran psychic, trained and using his abilities as coolly and skillfully as the Jilectans, themselves!
"There!" Alan whispered.
Ahead, a lone figure was proceeding rapidly down the path, glancing nervously around. Alan faded back into the bushes. "It's him. Let's get him, Mark."
"Right. We go together."
"All right." Alan spoke to Julia and Dannar. "You stay here."
Julia nodded, and an instant later, Alan and his friend went softly forward, keeping to the shadows. Julia watched anxiously as they closed the distance between themselves and the mugger.
She heard no sound, but the thief's ears must have been better than her own, for he suddenly glanced back, his eyes glinting faintly in the dim light. She heard a muffled curse, and the man broke into a run.
Alan materialized from the shadows. Without a sound, but with a lithe, uncanny speed, he raced forward and an instant later was on the fleeing thief.
Julia and Dannar were on their feet, running toward the scene as Alan struck the man waist high, flinging him forward. The two went down in a clawing, grasping tangle on the snow-covered lawn. A knife flashed up and descended savagely. Julia screamed and Alan gave a cry of pain.
Then, Steve Lawson was beside the combatants. He caught the mugger by the back of his coat, yanking him from Alan and spinning him about. The knife flew sideways as Lawson shook his captive like a rat and then hit him hard across the face.
The mugger's legs folded. Lawson shoved him viciously down and sat on his chest. A blaster appeared in the big man's hand and he pressed it against the mugger's nose.
"Freeze, you bloody li'l twerp," he barked. "One move an' you fry!"
Julia doubted that the man understood Lawson's Shallockian-accented Basic, but the tone was intimidating enough. He froze, eyes fixed on the weapon. "Whatcha want?" he squeaked in English.
Lawson ignored him, speaking to Dannar, who was bending over Alan. "Is he okay?"
"Ze fellow cut him," Dannar said.
Lawson's lips tightened. "All right, trenchcrawler --"
"Mark!" Alan gasped. "I'm okay!"
"He iss bleeding razzer badly." Dannar helped Alan to sit up and produced a large, bright orange handkerchief, pressing it over the wound on Alan's cheek. "I fear zere will be a sscar --"
"I'm all right," Alan said, sounding a little shaky. "Don't hurt him."
An empath, too, Julia thought, incredulously. Alan was worried about the welfare of a man who, a moment ago, had tried to kill him.
Lawson glared down at the prostrate prisoner. "You better thank your lucky stars he's still able to talk, you trencher. If he wasn't, you'd be dead."
The mugger gulped. "I don't understand." He looked frantically at Julia. "What's he saying?"
Julia translated. "I'd kill you anyway, if it was me," she added candidly.
Lawson stood up, still pointing the blaster at the man. "Check his pockets, honey."
Julia knelt and went through the ragged coat pockets. Almost immediately, she discovered the wallet and stood up, eagerly flipping it open. Alan spoke from the ground. "Is it still there?"
"I'm looking." Julia dug through the contents, scattering bills on the ground. "Here it is!" She held it up triumphantly.
""What the hell?" the bewildered thief inquired.
Lawson grinned nastily at the man and spoke to Julia. "Tell him he stole your ticket to the opera," he suggested. "Culture buffs like us get mean about that sorta thing."
Julia found herself laughing a little hysterically as she translated Lawson's remark. The man on the ground stared up at her blankly.
"Opera?" he repeated, unbelievingly.
"Right," Lawson said.
There was a faint whine in the distance. Julia felt her heart jerk uncomfortably. "Police! I've got to get out of here!"
"We all do," Lawson said. He bent over Alan and lifted him to his feet. "Damn, kid! That looks awful! You sure you don't want me t'teach this guy a lesson? Might be doin' the general population a favor."
"Mark," Alan said, looking worried.
"Okay." Lawson shrugged. "Let's go."
**********
The mugger lay still for a moment after the oddly assorted group had disappeared into the darkness and then got slowly to his feet. He shook his head slowly and bent to gather up the scattered bills.
"Man!" he muttered to himself. "It's getting so a guy can't make a credit without running into screwballs. Enough to make you want to go straight!"
**********
tbc
