Toomelli's Moon: 2/?
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
II
"No, sir, I checked their hotel room and I checked the café. They were there, all right, but they left long before I arrived and Luanne hadn't seen them since she contacted Alan --"
Colonel Wayne Rousseau paced the office of his commanding officer on the Lavirra base and then paused to glare at his subordinate. Corporal Kramer wilted beneath his glance, although the colonel was easily a head shorter than he. Rousseau could feel the man's discomfort.
"I'm sorry, sir. I knew what you'd say, and I was frantic. They never showed up! I waited for four hours! The sun was coming up!"
"Could they have heard about Kaley, do you think?"
"I don't know, sir. I don't think so -- unless it came from a source we don't know about. Luanne didn't know, herself."
"Did they talk to anyone else while they were in the café?"
"Major Linley was seen speaking with an Arcturian, and there was some talk of a meeting with someone. Luanne said that an Arcturian -- probably the same one -- had been asking about Alan -- I mean Captain Westover. She never saw them meet, and she hadn't given out any information, naturally. Major Linley was gone when she came downstairs with Captain Westover, and the Captain left shortly afterwards. She hadn't seen them since."
"All right, stop your blithering." Rousseau paced again. "What the devil --" He punched a button on Kaley's desk. "Ruby!"
"Yes, sir?"
"Get Lieutenant Austell and Major Burke! I want to see both of them -- NOW!"
"Yes, *sir*"
Kramer stood miserably by while his superior officer paced, swearing under his breath. A few moments later, the door opened and Major Leroy Burke entered. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
Rousseau stopped pacing and tossed something to the other man. Burke caught it deftly. "What's this?"
"Captain Westover's class ring." Rousseau strode over to the man. "He's missing and so is Linley. They never arrived at the rendezvous point. We've had no word of their capture or of any incidents --" He paused and began to pace again. "They've vanished, apparently into thin air."
Julia Austell entered the room, looking with wide eyes at the Colonel's worried face. "You sent for me, sir?"
He explained briefly. "Do you know anything about this, Lieutenant?"
Julia shook her head. "No sir."
There was a brief silence. Rousseau raised an eyebrow at her. "You're lying to me, aren't you, Lieutenant?"
She reddened. "Of course not!"
"Will you lower your shields and say that?"
Julia's flush deepened. "I don't know anything about it, sir! But I do know Alan and Mark pretty well."
"And?"
She hesitated. "I think they're probably trying to rescue General Kaley, sir."
Rousseau nodded. "Yeah; that's what I thought." He swore under his breath.
Leroy Burke was looking down at Alan's class ring. "Do you want me to try to trace Alan with this?"
Rousseau looked hopeful. "Do you think you can, Major? It was the most personal object we could find in his quarters."
Burke frowned. "If you want a specific location, no, I can't. He hasn't worn the ring lately, by the feel of it. I may be able to tell you if he's alive or not. Could you find anything belonging to Major Linley?"
Rousseau shook his head. "His old Patrol helmet is the closest that we got. We found their decorations for heroism on Kuloghi, but I really don't think there was much sentimental value attached to those."
Burke looked doubtful. "Better get Vogleman, sir. I'm not good over long distances, but the boy might be able to do it."
Rousseau grimaced. "Give it a try. I don't want anyone to know who doesn't have to. There's enough panic going around now, with Kaley in enemy hands. If it gets around that our top psychic Team is missing, too --"
Burke sat down, holding the ring before him. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Julia and the acting Commanding Officer of the station watched him as the seconds dragged by and became minutes.
At last, Burke opened his eyes and wiped sweat from his neck. "I can't get a thing. He could be dead for all I know."
"How about Major Linley?"
Burke glanced at the Patrol helmet that lay on the desk. "Oh man!" He picked it up and examined it. "Bet he hasn't worn this since he and Alan escaped from the 'Wolverine'. I can't imagine what he kept it for. There isn't any sentimental attachment to it, I can tell you that." He stopped, concentrating, biting his lower lip. "Nah; not a thing."
Rousseau cussed softly. "Lieutenant Austell, go get Lieutenant Vogleman."
"Yes sir." Julia went out.
Burke tossed the helmet onto a chair and spoke to Rousseau. "If you want my advice, sir, I'd leave 'em alone. They're up to something -- like Julia says. If we stick our noses in, we could do more harm than good."
Rousseau cussed again and resumed his pacing. "Do you know what'll happen to the morale of this station if we lose that pair?"
"Yes, of course, but I --"
"Besides --" Rousseau glanced at Kramer and jerked his head toward the door. "Dismissed!"
Kramer went out with obvious relief. Rousseau turned back to Burke. "Besides, I'm scared stiff that Westover will get it into his head to exchange himself for Kaley."
"He wouldn't do that, sir."
"Let's just hope that Linley can stop him! The boy's only twenty."
Burke shook his head. "Give him a little credit, Colonel. Kaley's important to Alan, but not one tenth as important as Alan's *partner*. You only transferred here a month ago. You haven't had as much contact with them as I have. They're psychic partners in every sense of the word, as hard as it is to believe if you haven't seen it. If Alan were killed it would half-kill Mark, and Alan knows it. Besides, Alan's much too smart for that. The trade is nothing more than a set-up. You can bet Alan knows it, too."
Rousseau's face had relaxed a little. "I hope you're right."
"I am," Burke said. "Take my advice. Leave it alone."
Rousseau was silent, frowning. "It's difficult for me to understand how a psychic can have such a bond with a non-psychic, Lee. I've read the report, of course, but are you absolutely sure --"
"I'm absolutely certain, sir," Burke said quietly. "Three months ago I saw Linley literally knocked cold because his partner's ship had crashed. That was the Kuloghi affair. Trust me."
Rousseau was silent, frowning. Julia re-entered the room accompanied by a short, slim boy with a mop of thick, dark hair and a round, boyish face. He looked nervously at Rousseau and then at Burke. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Lieutenant Vogleman, isn't it?" Rousseau said.
"Yes, sir."
"I understand that you're the best clairvoyant tracer on the base."
"Almost, sir. Captain Westover is the best."
"It's Alan we're trying to trace, Lieutenant," Burke said. He handed Eric the ring.
"Alan?" Eric's eyebrows flew up. "Is he in trouble, sir?"
"We don't know," Burke said.
Eric looked down at the ring. "He hasn't been wearing this lately -- probably not for months." He hesitated. "How far away is he?"
"The last we heard, he was on Shallock," Rousseau said.
Eric's eyes widened. "Shallock? I'm not going to be able to trace him if he's that far away. If I'm lucky I might be able to tell if he's alive, but that's all."
"Just do your best," Burke said.
"Okay." Eric looked dubiously at the ring. "May I sit down, sir?"
Rousseau motioned him to a chair. Eric cupped the ring in his palms and shut his eyes.
Silence. Eric's hand closed over the ring and his forehead knotted. Ten minutes went by.
"He's alive," Eric said at last. "I think he might be on a ship. He's not in trouble, but that's all I can tell."
"Where was he heading? Could you see?"
"No sir."
"Was Mark there?" Julia asked.
"I don't know. He isn't worried, so Mark is probably all right." He glanced at Burke and then at the acting CO. "What are they doing?"
Burke didn't answer. Eric turned to Rousseau. "Are they on a mission to free General Kaley?"
"Not by my order," Rousseau said.
Eric's eyes got bigger and then he grinned suddenly. "They went after him on their own!"
"Don't look so happy about it, Lieutenant!" Rousseau snapped. "They'll probably get caught, too!" He stopped. "You may go, Lieutenant."
Eric saluted. "Yes sir!" He was still grinning. "You don't know Alan and Mark, sir. They'll get the General out."
Rousseau didn't answer and Eric turned toward the door.
"Lieutenant," Rousseau said. "Not a word about this to anyone."
Eric looked disappointed, but then his smile returned. "General Kaley's as good as free, sir. You'll see." He turned and went out.
Julia stood up uncertainly. "Colonel --"
"You may go, Lieutenant Austell."
"Yes sir." Julia followed Eric out the door and it swished shut behind her.
There was another long silence.
"All right," Rousseau said at last. "It doesn't look like I have much choice."
"No sir," Burke agreed.
Rousseau cussed again. "Damn them! If I ever see them again, I'll strip their hides off a centimeter at a time!"
"And I'll help you," Burke agreed. He grinned slightly. "I do have to say, though, they've got more nerve than I have. I sure hope Eric's right."
"Lieutenant Vogleman's a kid with his head full of romantic ideas!"
"Maybe, but he's also the best psychic on the base except for Captain Westover. And he's right about Linley and Westover. They've come through worse situations."
Rousseau shook his head dismally.
III
"We need a ride to Corala," Mark said to Dannar. "Can you arrange it for us?"
The Arcturian nodded. "I zought it wass possible zat you would wish to go zere. I contacted a friend who iss happy to help. We cannot go in my ship, of course. Zere would be questionss asked."
Dannar took the controls of the aircar from Mark and directed the vehicle across the city. Alan glanced at his impassive face. He always found it difficult to tell what an Arcturian was thinking -- a problem shared by Jilectans and Terrans alike. However, an interesting point in Terra's favor was the fact that some Terran psychics, Alan among them, could read the minds of Arcturians. It took effort, but it could be done.
Not so with the Jilectans. For all their abilities, the minds of Arcturians were closed to them -- a fact, Alan knew, that was highly irritating to the power-hungry overlords.
Dannar returned his glance and his fangs flashed. "Ziss iss like old timess, iss it not? My only regret iss zat Shulia iss not here."
"Not mine," Mark said, dryly. Alan hid a smile.
"How iss she?" the Arcturian asked.
"Well enough when we left," Mark answered. "She's probably worried sick about Kaley right now. Listen, Dan, are you sure you wanna get involved in this?"
"I am going," Dannar said. "Zere iss no more to be said."
Alan looked thoughtfully at the Arcturian. In spite of the scaled hides that gave them a superficial resemblance to the reptiles of Terra, the natives of Ceregon, the third planet in the Arcturus system, were a warm-blooded species, totally unlike anything that Terra had ever produced, and very difficult to understand. One of the characteristics that he found most interesting was their almost fanatical loyalty to anyone, Arcturian or otherwise, that had somehow won the status of being called their friend -- which was not an easy thing to do. Julia Austell, however, had accomplished the feat. Dannar was her devoted friend, and Alan knew that the Arcturian would willingly sacrifice his life to save hers. Alan suspected that it was this factor that was operating now, although he wasn't sure why. Kaley was Dannar's commanding officer -- valuable, but not irreplaceably so, and certainly not acquainted well enough with the Arcturian to be called his friend. Under normal circumstances, Dannar would almost certainly carry out the standing order, if it were within his ability to do so. What might be behind his determination to assist the two of them in their quest to save Kaley from the Jilectans? Could Dannar possibly be interpreting his friendship with Julia to mean that he was also responsible for her friends? It seemed unlikely, but you never knew with an Arcturian. Of course, there was the fact that the Terran Underground was the only hope Dannar's people had of eventual freedom from the Jilectans. Still, that didn't quite seem to cover it, either.
The myriad lights flashed beneath them, becoming more scattered as they reached the city's outskirts. At length, Dannar brought the aircar down to a smooth landing in a large field of waving grass. The city was some distance behind them, marked by a haze of illumination against the clouds that covered the sky. The air was cool, and a soft breeze blew. The Arcturian glanced at them, his round, yellow eyes glowing faintly in the dark. "Come wiz me, please."
The ship lay in a corner of the field, concealed in the deep shadows of an enormous, heavily leafed tree. Mark ducked low to avoid the foliage, and Alan followed his example. A heavy, perfume-like scent enveloped them.
"Dagger tree," Mark whispered. "The smell lures in flyin' critters, an' they wind up speared on the thorns. Won't kill a man, but it stings like fury. Anybody with any sense stays away from 'em."
Which was undoubtedly why Dannar's friends had parked their ship here, Alan thought as he crept forward after Dannar and Mark. It was pitch dark under the canopy of leaves and branches. Alan didn't see the ship until they were practically touching it. As they paused beside it, Dannar took a small keypad from a pocket and punched in a code. There was a soft beeping sound and the hatch of the vessel slid softly open. A boarding ramp descended. Dannar went up the ramp without hesitation and Alan and Mark brought up the rear. They entered the ship and the hatch slid shut behind them.
For a moment, they were in darkness. All was quiet and still. A little prickle ran up Alan's spine.
"Shust a moment," Dannar's voice said. There was the sound of quiet, unhurried footsteps and the room brightened slightly. In the dimness, they could just make out each other's faces.
"Zese are my friends," Dannar's voice said. There was movement behind them, and the light brightened. Dannar was standing beside the entrance to what must be the ship's passenger section, and in the opening a tall, dark-skinned figure was grinning at them.
"Hi there, kid! You're a sight for sore eyes!"
"Monty!" Alan gasped. "Where did you come from?"
Lamont Hedgecock stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder. "We been waitin' for you two slowpokes for half the night! Dan here called an' told Val an' me that you'd likely be needin' a ride. 'Course, considerin' the favor you did for us back on Kuloghi, we was only too happy t'offer our services."
"Val? Oh, Vallir, of course!" Alan glanced around and saw the Arcturian from the Kuloghian mines. He was standing beside Dannar, and the two aliens were grinning like twin saberclaws in the dimness.
"I didn't know you were acquainted," Alan said, trying to recover some of his poise.
"Neither did I," Mark said.
Monty extended a hand to Mark. "Howdy, Major Linley! Good t'see you again. Been takin' good care o' my li'l buddy? I hardly recognized the kid without his bruises!"
"Yeah." Mark grinned in return. "Took him back home and the docs patched him up."
Vallir stepped forward. "Welcome aboard 'Loki's Choice'." He grinned toothily. "Zat wass Monty'ss idea for a name. I am still a little unsure of ze exact meaning behind it, but I am told it iss appropriate."
"Who's Loki?" Mark asked.
"Norse trickster god," Alan said absently. "Also the god of fire."
"I figured it fit," Monty said, modestly. "This was Ganthzar's yacht -- or at least part of it was."
"It's a bit smaller than a Jil yacht," Mark said.
Monty nodded. "The engines are from the yacht, and a lot of the inner mechanisms, but we sold the rest an' got it replaced by somethin' not quite so conspicuous." He grinned again. "Well, we gotta make tracks. Have a seat, guys."
He led the way through the hatch and gestured them to seats. Alan squinted in the sudden illumination.
"How did you two happen to meet?" he asked as they took their seats and prepared for takeoff.
Vallir paused in the entrance to the control room and glanced at Dannar, who shrugged expressively. "I have known Vallir for some time, Alan. He iss my brozzer."
"Ah!" Mark said. "Now some o' this is startin' t'make sense."
Dannar nodded soberly. "You and Alan saved my brozzer from imprisonment."
Mark shrugged. "Hell, Dan, I hadta. It was the only way to get Alan outta there."
"No matter ze circumstancess," Vallir said, "you still saved me from what would have been a deazz sentence in ze miness. I owe you bozz a debt zat will be very difficult to repay."
Alan could feel his ears burning. "Heck, I didn't do anything, Val. If Mark hadn't come along, we'd all have been done for."
"Wizzout you, we would not have been able to esscape ze mine," Vallir said. "Ze two of you togezzer are quite remarkable."
Mark squirmed uncomfortably. "Did you know these two were brothers, kid?"
Alan shook his head. "I knew one of the reasons Dannar hated the Jils was that he had a brother in a penal colony, but I didn't realize it was Vallir."
"Yess," Dannar agreed. "Zat wass one reason."
"How'd you end up in a penal colony, Val?" Mark asked. "Or shouldn't I ask?"
Vallir's teeth shone in the overhead lighting. "Why Strike Commander Linley, I should zink zat you, of all personss, would know ze answer to zat."
"Huh?" Mark stared at him, his brow furrowing. "What d'you mean?"
"Seven yearss ago," Vallir said, "I was arrested by ze Viceregal Patrol for smuggling stolen goods from Shilectan worlds. Ze charges were quite accurate, I must admit. After an exhausting chase, I was apprehended by a very persistent young Patrol lieutenant by ze name of Mark Linley."
Mark's jaw dropped. His face turned bright red.
"Oh, gosh!" Alan said.
"Of course," Vallir continued blithely, "I later learned zat ziss lieutenant had been promoted at a very young age to ze rank of Sstrike Commander. It wass comforting to know zat, even zough I had been caught, at least it took an exceptional officer to accomplish ze task. Zen later I discovered zat you had still furzered your career." The Arcturian's fanged grin widened. "Zere iss no need to be nervous, Alan. I do not hold a grudshe. Zat would be foolish." His gaze went back to Mark. "I wass not an easy prisoner -- eizzer to catch or to transport -- and ze rest of ze Patrol squad was somewhat annoyed wiz me. Because of ze nature of my crime, zey were under no compunction to bring me back to ze Shils alive, and it was only because of zeir lieutenant zat I arrived at my prison unharmed." He was speaking directly to Mark, now. "You restrained your men, sir, and alzough at ze time I did not appreciate your efforts, I certainly do now."
"Forget it," Mark muttered.
"Zat, I sink, iss a good idea," Vallir said. "I have embarrassed you, ssir, and I did not mean to."
Alan began to laugh. "You put him in prison, Mark, and then seven years later you broke him out!"
Slowly, Mark began to grin, too. "I thought for a minute there that I might be in trouble."
Vallir shook his head, Terran fashion. "You have done me a great favor, and I shall never forget it." He grinned toothily and went toward the control room as the overhead lights dimmed for takeoff. At the hatchway he paused again, looking back at Linley's red face. "Only let me ssay ziss, sir. I zink zat you and your young friend are ze most exceptional Terranss zat I have ever met. It iss a pleasure to serve you." He turned and vanished into the control room with Monty. The door slid shut and the whine of engines increased.
Alan slowly pulled the safety webbing across his chest and lap. He glanced at Dannar, seated on his left. The Arcturian's expression was the same bland mask he had always known. "Uh -- Dan?"
"Yess, Alan?"
"There really aren't any hard feelings?"
"Why should zere be?"
"Mark arrested him. He put him in prison."
"He did ze same zing to you."
"That was different," Alan said. "He broke me out."
"He broke Vallir out, too."
"After seven years in a penal colony!"
Dannar chuckled softly. "Tell me somezing, Alan. Did you ever hate Mark? Wass zere any time before he broke you out zat you felt as zough you hated him?"
Alan shook his head. "I never hated Mark."
"Why not? He wass taking you to ze Shils. Zey were going to kill you."
Alan considered. "I knew Mark was caught in an impossible situation. I knew he didn't want to take me in but he had no choice. If he let me go, the Jilectans would read his mind and kill him for it."
"Exactly," Dannar said. "Zat iss why Vallir doess not hold any hard feelings toward Mark. Mark was doing his shob. He did it well, but wizzout brutality." Dannar paused. "My brozzer knew ze risk when he began wiz ze smuggling. Ze reason he did it was zat ze Shils make it so very hard for Arcturian traders to earn zeir living. Vallir also knew zat if he was caught, he would eizzer be executed or placed in a penal colony for life. Zen, when Mark helped him to escape, he earned Vallir's friendship -- and mine also. Bozz of us owe ze two of you more zan we can ever repay."
"Let's talk about somethin' else," Linley suggested miserably.
Alan turned toward him. "You didn't remember him?"
Linley shrugged. "It's comin' back now," he admitted. "He was a hard one to hold on to -- a real ..." He paused, glancing at Dannar. "A real difficult prisoner. He seriously wounded one o' my men, as I remember. I really couldn't blame 'em for wantin' to finish him before we got back."
"Why didn't you let zem?" Dannar asked.
Mark grinned. "'Cause I knew I'da done the same thing in his spot. I really couldn't blame *him*, either."
Dannar grinned broadly.
**********
tbc
