Since I was babysitting today, I didn't have time to work on Supercop II, but I put the finishing touches on this part. The final part, after this one, will be the epilogue.
Giant Killer: 11/12
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
20
The windows of Finnian's Imports glowed ahead, pale through the blowing snow. Julia touched Alan's arm. "Alan?"
"Yes?"
"There was a woman in there -- a little dark-haired lady. She tried to force me to go into the back room with her."
Alan nodded. "That was Emma Connors. Don't worry about her. She's the wife of the C.O."
"The C.O. of what?"
"Of the Underground station here."
Julia surveyed the forlorn little building in astonishment. "This is really an Underground station?"
"Yep," Steve Lawson said. "This way." He led the way around the building, still helping Alan along, and paused before the flaking door of a rear entrance. He knocked twice, paused and then carefully knocked three more times.
The door opened immediately, revealing two men, one of them stocky, with dark hair, the other tall, thin and freckle-faced. Red hair waved back from his thin, homely features, and Julia recognized him at once as the man that Dannar had stunned when the two of them had fled the shop.
"Hi, Phil," Lawson said. "We got 'em. You okay?"
"Yeah." The man's eyes flicked toward Dannar. "He only brushed me." His gaze went to Julia.
"This is Julia Austell," Alan said. "And her friend."
"Is that a *wig*?" the man asked, incredulously. "It looks too awful to be faked."
"It's a wig." Julia pulled off the head covering, smiling a little self-consciously. "Dannar picked it out for me."
"Ah, I see." The man stepped back and his companion stood aside, allowing them to enter. The sudden warmth of the room they entered made Julia's eyes water.
The red-haired man spoke. "How do you do, Miss Austell, and -- Dannar, was it?"
"Zat iss correct."
"I'm Phil Connors -- Captain Connors of the Terran Underground and C.O. of this station. This is Wally Cross from L.A. We're very happy you're here -- in one piece."
"Thank you," Julia said, feeling somewhat embarrassed. "I'm sorry about --"
He actually laughed. "Think nothing of it. I should have been more on my guard -- and Emma, too. A good lesson for us. Actually, we didn't really expect you to make it to us. It seemed like such a long chance that Lieutenant Ducati had been able to give you the message, and an even longer chance that, with everything that was going on, you'd remember what he told you. But when you arrived on Terra, we decided that you must be a rather exceptional person." He sketched a respectful salute. "But I'm afraid that we expected you to arrive as a blond, not a redhead of indeterminate origin." He grinned. "And we certainly didn't expect you to be accompanied by an armed bodyguard." He glanced at Dannar and chuckled softly. "You must tell us the whole story."
"I will," Julia said. "But first, maybe you'd better take care of Alan."
Phil glanced at Alan and his jaw dropped. "Holy space! What happened?"
"We ran into one of the locals," Lawson said. "I think he's gonna need a doctor."
Phil nodded. "I think you're right. Come on into the sitting room." He gestured them through a doorway and followed, accompanied by his dark-haired companion.
They entered a large, comfortably furnished room and Phil went over to a videophone in the corner. "Sit down and relax, everybody."
Cross steered Mark and Alan toward a sofa. "Take it easy, Lieutenant. How bad is it?"
"Not bad," Alan said. "Just a little cut. It's almost stopped bleeding."
A door opened and the little woman Julia had encountered earlier entered. She looked very pale, her dark hair stringing to her shoulders and there were dark circles under her eyes. Alan came to his feet. "Good grief, Emma! You look terrible! Come sit down."
She shook her head, smiling at him. "Thank you, Alan, but I'm all right. The headache's about gone."
"What happened?"
"Dannar stunned her," Julia said, uncomfortably. She spoke to Emma. "I'm really sorry, Mrs. Connors. I didn't know --"
"Of course you didn't," Emma Connors said. "You took me by surprise, or I would have managed the situation more deftly. You see, I wasn't sure what to think of you. You knew the password, but --" She shrugged. "Then, when you decided to leave, I tried to stop you, and that's where I made my mistake." She glanced at Dannar and laughed. "Actually, I'm happy to see that you were so well prepared for trouble."
"I am mosst ssorry," the Arcturian said.
"No need to be. Sit *down*, Alan, for pity's sake! There's blood all over that cloth! What happened?"
Lawson seated his partner firmly on the sofa again. "Mugger," he said, briefly.
Emma sighed. "This area's getting worse and worse! My goodness, if they don't start cracking down on the criminals soon --"
Phil Connors turned from the phone. "Doctor Bardon'll be here in a few minutes," he said. "He says for Alan to keep quiet until he gets here."
"Right," Lawson said.
Julia glanced curiously at Alan's partner, trying to recall where she had seen his face before. He met her eyes and grinned, and suddenly the answer leaped out at her. Mark! Alan had called him Mark several times. His name wasn't Steve as he had introduced himself -- or, yes! It was! She had seen that name in conjunction with that handsome face many times on wanted posters all over Riskell. His hair had grown from its regulation Patrol haircut, and the clothing, of course, was different, but of his identity there could be no doubt. That was Mark Steven Linley, former Strike Commander Linley of the Viceregal Patrol, who had deserted his profession to aid the criminal, Alan Westover, the notorious Terran who had slain Lord Salthvor in cold blood! And Alan Westover, the evil, ruthless being who was rumored to be one of the degenerate Terran psychics ...
Her gaze swung to Alan Woodruff. He looked younger than ever with the bloody cloth pressed to his face, his dark, curly hair standing wildly up on his head. He was watching her, smiling faintly, and Julia realized that something about him had altered. His eyes, that was it! They were no longer brown. Instead, she could see that they were a brilliant green in the room's soft lighting.
He leaned forward to place two small objects on the table in front of him. "Contact lenses," he said. "My eyes are my most distinctive feature -- or so my wanted posters say."
"You are!" Julia realized that she was on her feet. "You *are* Alan Westover!"
He was nodding, looking a little nervous. "But I'm not a degenerate. Honest, I'm not."
"A degenerate?" She stared at him with a sense of unreality. "Of course not!"
"That's what the Jils say about Terran psychics," Linley said, a little defensively. "It ain't true."
Slowly, Julia sat down again. She swallowed. "My goodness!"
Alan smiled. "Don't worry. We may be famous, but so are you. They're calling you the 'Giant Killer'. Two Jils in one night!
"Somebody in the crowd called me that, this afternoon," Julia said. She swallowed, trying to regain her composure, suddenly aware of how she must look in her sagging clothes, with her cropped hair and dirty face. "Oh dear! I must look awful!"
Alan shrugged, still smiling. "We don't look much better, I'm sure."
Emma Connors entered the room again, bearing a tray of coffee and sandwiches. "Here you are, folks. Julia, my dear, would you like to clean up a little, first? There's a shower back here, and I've found you some clean clothes."
"Yes, thank you." Julia stood up, glancing again toward Alan and Mark. Linley smiled and lifted a hand.
"Sure; go ahead, honey, but don't take all night. I'm itchin' t'hear what happened to you."
Blushing slightly, Julia retired from the room.
The bathroom was small, but it didn't matter. The water in the shower was wonderfully hot, and she washed herself from head to toe, taking special pains with her hair and remembering uneasily the hat she had worn during her escape from Riskell. Upon emerging from the shower, she found that Emma Connors had supplied her with a pair of slacks that had certainly belonged to a much thinner girl. They were very tight in the seat, but the length was all right. There was also a dark green, pullover sweater that must belong to Phil, himself, for it was very large, coming well down over the slacks, the neckline plunging. Julia managed to seal the slacks with some difficulty, slipped on her sandals again and ran a comb through her hair. It would certainly have to be professionally styled after this, she decided, unhappily. The pocketknife that she had employed in the Jilectan limousine had done a most unbecoming job.
Picking up the stolen shoes that she had worn over her sandals and draping the coat over her arm, she headed back to the sitting room.
Mark Linley was standing beside his partner and Alan's head now rested against the back of the sofa while a grey-haired man bent over him, applying some kind of substance to the cut on his cheek.
"There," he said, straightening up a moment later. "That should do it, Lieutenant. It should heal without any problem. You may have a small scar -- nothing disfiguring, I assure you."
"Thanks, sir," Alan said, his voice sounding odd.
"You'll be numb another ten minutes or so," the doctor said. "Then it'll wear off." He gathered up his equipment and stuffed them into a small case.
"Thanks, Doc," Linley said. He glanced at Julia and she saw his eyes widen. He swallowed and a grin spread over his features. Julia could feel her face growing warm.
Alan looked up and Julia saw him poke his partner. Mark grunted a little and looked away, still grinning faintly. "Hi, honey. You look a lot better."
"Thank you," Julia said. "May I have some coffee?"
"Sure. Have a sandwich, too."
"Thank you." Julia accepted a mug from the man Phil had identified as Wally Cross when they had arrived. The doctor snapped his case shut.
"Gotta go. Be seeing you." He glanced at Julia and smiled. "Nice to have you with us, Miss Austell. We were all pulling for you."
"Thank you," Julia said.
The man departed. Julia picked up a sandwich and sank into a chair, feeling suddenly very tired.
"And now," Phil said, "I'd like to hear your story, Miss Austell. How did you get here, and how did you pick up your --" He glanced at Dannar with a smile. "-- Companion?"
Julia took a sip from the mug. The coffee was hot and utterly delicious. "Well," she began, "after Alan left me at the Embassy gate --"
It took a surprisingly short time to tell what had happened. Dannar took up the tale when she reached the part where he had entered the drama. "I wass ze pilot of ze ship zat she borrowed," he told them blandly. "Shulia disabled my employer and hiss wife, and forced me to take off."
"I see," Connors said. "It seems you didn't stay a prisoner for long."
"No indeed." The Arcturian's fangs flashed. "When I realized who she wass and where she wass going, my resentment diminished a good deal. And zen, she saved my life by pulling me from ze burning ship when we crash-landed on Terra."
"Ah!" Linley took a big bite of his sandwich. "That explains a lot."
"Yess," Dannar agreed. He helped himself to another sandwich. "Ah! Zese are wonderful, Mrs. Connors!"
"Thank you, Dannar."
Julia took up the tale again and completed it quickly. Dannar finished his second sandwich and reached for a third. "And now," he said, "I should very much like to know what iss on zat little ticket zat iss sso important."
Alan looked at Phil. "That's something I'd like to know, too. Colonel Dean didn't tell us much, but it has to be pretty important."
Phil Connors nodded. "It is. The Ambassador got a chance to grab something a little hotter than he expected." He glanced at Julia and Dannar. "I really can't say any more with these two here until I know their plans."
Julia stared at him blankly. "Plans?"
Alan spoke. "Do you want to join the Underground, Julia?"
"The Underground?" Slowly, the impact of those words dawned on her. The Terran Underground was suddenly no longer a vague, rebellious organization, but a refuge -- a home. And if she didn't join, where could she go? What could she do? Flit around the Sector until somebody recognized her and turned her in for the reward?
"You'll have the chance to strike back at the people that killed your family," Connors said, quietly.
Julia found herself nodding. "I -- well, I don't know how much help I'll be. I mean, I've never been trained at being a spy. I'm just an ordinary Terran."
Linley chuckled. "I can tell you never watched any o' those Lance Holden videos, honey. All the lady spies look just like you."
Julia could feel her face growing warm. "I don't have any mind shielding or anything."
"They'll teach you," Alan said. "They'll train you to shield, and a lot of other things, but I don't think our C.O. is likely to use you as a spy." He glanced at Mark reprovingly. "I'm afraid you're just too conspicuous."
"Yeah," Linley said.
"Shut up, Mark," Alan said, sounding a little annoyed.
Linley grinned. "Sorry, Miss Austell."
He wasn't a bit sorry, Julia thought, but surprisingly she wasn't offended. Linley's obvious admiration gave her a warm sensation in the pit of her stomach. "All right, then. I guess I'm a member of the Terran Underground."
"I would alsso like to shoin," Dannar said. "I am a pilot, azz you know. My employer iss a trader and makess many tripss to Shilectan-dominated worldss. It iss possible zat I could find out many zings zat would be of use to you."
Phil was watching the Arcturian thoughtfully. "The Underground employs many people and only a small percentage of them live on one of the Sanctuary worlds," he said. "Most of them live in their own homes and carry out their jobs like any other citizen. And of course, in your case, there wouldn't be any need to provide you with shielding."
"None at all," Dannar said. He grinned horribly.
"However," Phil continued, "I must know your reasons for wanting to join the Underground."
Dannar looked at the floor. "Zey are very private."
"I'm afraid I must insist. You may do so privately, of course. No one besides me needs to know."
"Phil," Alan said, "it's all right."
Connors turned to look at him. Alan shook his head slightly. "It's all right," he repeated.
Connors looked puzzled for a moment, then he seemed to understand. "I didn't realize that --" He broke off. "Very well. You'll be accepted into the Underground, Dannar. You needn't disclose your reasons."
Dannar looked at Alan. "What hass happened?"
Alan looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Dannar. In this business we can't afford the risk of spies -- or apathetic members, for that matter. Everyone who joins the Underground has his mind read once."
Dannar's crest lifted. "Zat iss not possible. Not even ze Shils can read ze mind of an Arcturian."
Linley nodded. "I know, but you're gonna find, Dan, that Terran psychics can do some things that the Jils can't. O' course there ain't many Terran psychics that can read an Arcturian's mind, but there's a few, an' Alan's one of 'em. Anyway, it's done once an' it's over. It happened to me an' Alan, in the beginnin'. He did the job for you. Alan's good at keepin' secrets, an' there's a regulation that nobody can read your mind without permission from now on."
Dannar's muzzle had moved forward, denoting displeasure. "No one wass to know," he said.
Linley opened his mouth to speak again, but Alan put a hand on his arm. "Dannar," he said quietly, "I'm a psychic, but I'm a Terran. We aren't like the Jils. We respect other beings, whether they're our own species or not. What I saw will go no farther. You have my word."
Dannar was silent for several seconds, obviously thinking that over. "I suppose it was necessary," he said at last, "but I do not like it."
"One traitor could destroy them all," Julia said suddenly. "Maybe that's what happened at the Embassy."
Dannar's eyes met hers, and very slowly, he inclined his head. "Zat iss true." Again, he turned to Alan. "I am ssorry, Lieutenant Wesstover," he said. "I was quite wrong to be angry."
Alan smiled. "It's all right, Dannar. I was a little upset myself when I found out I'd been read, but no one's ever done it again without my permission."
"Conssider it forgotten," Dannar said grandly. "Shulia iss right."
"Okay," Linley said. "I'm glad that's straightened out. But if Dannar goes back now, he's gonna be questioned."
"I will lie," Dannar said. "I will tell zem what zey expect to hear -- zat I wass held prisoner by ziss wicked girl and zat she released me after reaching Terra. No doubt zey have already examined Mr. Schultz and know I was taken against my will. My sstunner will have been found at ze scene of ze hishacking. If I am found wandering zrough ze wilderness wiz my handss bound, zey will not ask questionss."
Linley shook his head. "I ain't so sure of that. They're gonna want to check you out, if nothin' else t'find out if you can tell 'em anythin' about where Jul, here, went. An' if they even suspect you're lyin' --" He let the sentence hang.
There was a silence and then Dannar slowly inclined his head. "You are correct. I am an Arcturian, and ze Shils are not likely to believe anyzing I ssay -- wizzout proof."
"They'll probably use drugs on you," Linley said. "That means we're gonna hafta condition you before you go back. Except for that, I think we can stick to the original plan. Phil can keep you here for a day or two an' get it done, an' then drop you off in the general area of the crash."
"Sure," Alan said. "The Yukon's a big place. You could wander for weeks and not happen on any civilization. Phil can just make sure he drops you off fairly close to a town. Then you can walk in, call the police and tell them you've been wandering around ever since Miss Austell shoved you out of the burning ship."
"Zat will be fine," Dannar said.
"Then that's settled," Phil said. "We'll start conditioning you in the morning."
"Great." Mark Linley finished his coffee and rose to his feet, stretching. He was very tall, Julia realized. Goodness, his hands nearly touched the ceiling when he stretched. "Well, Pop, I think I'm gonna make use o' that shower before we head for the ship, an' since these damned sneakers are sorta soaked, I wonder if you'd be so kind as to return my shoes, Miss Austell -- since you don't seem to need 'em anymore."
"Your shoes?" Julia said, blankly.
"An' my coat, too. I think it's gonna need a bath before I can wear it again, though," he added. "I'm sure Emma can find you somethin' a little more your size t'wear on the trip home."
"Your coat?" Julia looked at Alan, puzzled. "What's he talking about?"
Alan was grinning. "Don't you remember?"
"Remember what?"
"The young man you mugged to get those things."
Memory returned with a jolt. "Oh! Was that *you*?"
"Sure was," Mark said. "I was lookin' for you."
"But -- how did you know I'd be at the spaceport?"
"We didn't," Alan told her. "But it seemed likely. We thought you'd probably try to get offworld -- especially if Max had given you the information."
"My goodness!" Julia said, faintly. "I had no idea." She turned to Mark. "I'm really sorry!"
He waved away her apology. "Forget it, honey. I ain't sorry. Like Phil an' Emma, I shouldn'ta underestimated you."
Julia watched his eyes stray toward her neckline again. Confused, she found herself stammering. "I hope I didn't hurt you. I was trying to look like a man."
His grin widened and an eyebrow went up. "A *man*? No way, baby!"
She saw his partner poke him in the ribs again. Alan changed the subject quickly, speaking to Connors. "What about the ticket? What was so important about it?"
"The number on it," Phil said, "is the code for information in the Stellar Retrieval System, which the Ambassador managed to place there for us. We didn't realize exactly what it was, until another agent arrived from the Embassy. There *was* another person that escaped besides Miss Austell -- only because he managed to mug a 'trol and walk off the grounds undetected. Everything was already over and, like Ducati, he was trying to save himself. Of course, we suspected the stuff was pretty hot, since Halthzor was on the scene, but we didn't know what it was until our man arrived."
"What was it?" Alan asked.
Phil looked smug. "Classified Jil information on psychic training."
Linley whistled softly.
"Good heavens!" Julia found herself watching Alan again. "I had no idea. When I first saw what Max had given me, I thought he'd made a mistake and given me a theater ticket or something."
Linley stood up. "I'm gonna take my shower now. How about it, honey? Do I get m'shoes back?"
"Oh, yes." Julia handed them over. "Thank you for the loan. I appreciated it very much, especially while Dan and I were hiking through the Yukon."
"I'll bet." Linley took the items and went out. Alan glanced at her, smiling a little apologetically.
"You mustn't mind Mark," he told her. "He grew up on Shallock."
"I know." Julia returned Alan's smile. "So, what happens now?"
Phil answered for him. "Dannar will stay here and you, Alan and Mark will head for the Spaceport. We need to get you to one of our Sanctuary worlds."
"All right." Julia didn't bother to ask where that was. She was sure they wouldn't tell her. She turned to Dannar. This was going to be a lot harder than she'd imagined a few hours ago. "I wish I didn't have to leave, Dannar. You've been the best friend I could ever have hoped for. I'm going to miss you."
The Arcturian took both her hands. "Ah, Shulia, I will miss you azz well. I alsso wish we did not have to part so soon, but ziss will not be ze last time we meet. And ziss way I will know zat you are safe from our enemies." His fangs flashed in a grin. "You will do your part, whatever it iss, and I will do mine. Togezzer we will help to free ze Ssector from ze Shilectan Autonomy. Zat iss a goal worzz a few sacrificess, do you not zink sso?"
She looked up into his scaled face, wondering when she had ceased to think of him as ugly. Leathery crest, scales, fangs and round yellow eyes -- Dannar was her best friend and always would be. "Yes," she said firmly. "It is."
**********
Waldorf Cross's aircar rose from the snowy driveway and headed west. Cross turned on the cabin heater and Julia, seated next to Alan in the rear seat, watched idly as snow melted on the windshield.
Between her and the glass, she saw faces -- her mother, Jill and her father. He seemed to be smiling at her, and for a moment, she was sure she heard his voice. "Thanks, honey. You did a darn good job."
"Julia?"
She turned her head to look at Alan. He was holding out something to her.
"My bracelet!" Julia took the little chain and lifted it to her cheek. "Where did you find it?"
"Mark was lying on it in the spaceport parking lot," Alan said. "It must have come off your wrist when you mugged him."
"Oh," Julia said. She gulped and began to fasten it around her wrist.
"Don't," Alan said.
"Huh?"
"You'd better get the catch fixed before you wear it again. It's broken."
"Oh." She examined it carefully. "It looks all right to me."
"Well, it isn't," Alan said.
Linley had half-turned in the front passenger seat so he could face the two of them. "He's a clairvoyant, honey," he said. "If he say's it's busted, then it's busted."
"All right." Julia slipped the chain into the pocket of the jacket that Emma Connors had loaned her. "I suppose you used it to track me when Dan and I ran away from Finnian's Imports."
Alan nodded. "We were just getting out of the aircar down the street when we saw you and Dan come bursting out. We weren't sure what was going on, but then one of the shop's customers came out, yelling for the police and saying that a girl and an Arcturian had just mugged the shop's owners."
Mark grinned. "Dunno why, but somehow we figured it just hadta be you. Lieutenant Cross went in an' quieted down the customers, an' Alan an' me went after you."
"How did you get it back before I found it under Mark?" Alan asked. "After I left you at the Embassy gate, I went back to the car and found it on the seat. I stuck it in my pocket and then walked right into the hands of Duke Halthzor."
"Oh my!" Julia whispered.
Alan nodded. "He took it away from me, and then the report came in that you had killed Trothvor. That shook up the 'trols enough that I managed to get away -- but Halthzor still had the bracelet."
"He must have given it to Danthvor." Julia felt her face harden at the memory. "I found it in his hand after I shot him."
Alan touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry about your family."
Julia nodded, blinking back tears, and then took the little chain from her pocket again. The small gold heart glinted softly in the darkness. "To Julia. Love, from Jill."
"I love this bracelet," she whispered, and turned to place a kiss on Alan's uninjured cheek. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he said, quietly.
Linley, in the passenger seat, looked soberly at his partner. "You were right, kid," he said. "She's quite a woman." He grinned suddenly. "Better watch out, Jils. Here comes the Giant Killer."
**********
tbc
