Toomelli's Moon: 8/9
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
Mark and Dannar watched as Alan's legs disappeared through the narrow opening. Linley looked at the Arcturian. "Sure hope he makes it. Let's go take care o' our end."
"It will be a pleasure." Dannar glanced at the unconscious patrolman in the chair. "Will it be ssafe to leave him here wizzout a guard?"
"Sure. I'll gag him, just to be on the safe side." Mark took a handkerchief from his pocket. "These rooms are supposed to be soundproof, but with these ventilator shafts, I dunno." He gagged the man securely and stood up. "Let's go."
They headed down the corridor at a brisk walk, passing three patrolmen on the way. The interrogation room in which Kaley was being held was located down another short passage. The guards at the doorway straightened up as Mark and Dannar rounded the corner.
"Doublin' the security," Mark said. "Possible intruder."
"Yeah, we just got the call. Man, you sure got here quick."
"What's it all about?" the second man asked.
"Dunno," Mark replied, and jabbed his fist under the guard's breastbone. The guard doubled forward and a blow to the neck sent his victim to the floor.
Mark turned quickly to see Dannar bending over the prone form of the second guard. The man's neck was twisted at an odd angle. Linley looked thoughtfully at his companion and resolved never to make an enemy of Dannar. The Arcturian met his gaze with a toothy grin.
They had barely made it back to the door of the interrogation room when Linley heard the sound of the lift doors opening. Footsteps came briskly down the corridor toward them and two patrolmen rounded the corner.
The foremost man, whose helmet bore the black half-stripe of a corporal, saluted smartly. "Doubling the security," he snapped.
Mark and Dannar returned the salute. "We just got the call," Mark said. "What's up?"
The corporal and his companion took their places beside the door. The corporal made a face.
"There was a body found back on Drevelle Base -- an Arcturian with his neck busted. Guy was a crewman aboard the 'Wolverine', but the guy apparently boarded. That damned Underground's trying to get to their boss; you can bet on it." The man touched the button on his helmet. "This is Lester. Guard doubled and all's well."
They fell silent, staring straight ahead. Mark could see the wall chronometer from where he stood and did quick mental calculations. Twenty minutes since Alan had entered the ventilator shaft. How long would it take his partner to squirm the distance to the interrogation room? The possibility that Alan might not be able to find it occurred to him, only to be dismissed. Alan would find it all right. The question was whether he would be able to make it in time to rescue Kaley.
"Man," one of the new guards said suddenly. "This is a real break for us. A General of the Terran Underground, no less."
"That's what I heard," Mark said. "Kiley or somethin'."
"Kaley," the other man corrected. "The way I hear it, he was a General in the Terran Army that was supposed to have been killed in an aircar crash ten years ago. He's been working for the Underground ever since, apparently."
"Wonder if Valthzor'll be able to make him talk," Mark said idly.
"Probably," the corporal said. "That is, if that damned Underground don't manage to kill him first. The Security Chief thinks that disturbance at the gate was sabotage."
"You mean zat zere are Undergrounderss on ziss station?" Dannar asked, sounding about as alarmed as Mark had ever heard him.
"Yeah. They think they bumped off that guy on Corala and planted one of their people aboard in his place."
Mark said a colorful cussword and glanced covertly at the time again. Thirty-five minutes. Surely Alan would link with him if he got into trouble. Dannar stood beside him, apparently completely at ease. Mark swore to himself. What the devil was holding the kid up?
The corporal pressed the button on his helmet. "Lester, reporting in. All's well."
More silence. Mark shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. Five more minutes crawled past.
There was a click, and the bolt on the door slid back. The panel hissed open.
The patrolmen came to attention, stepping aside. Mark and Dannar drew their blasters, placing them against the men's ribs.
"March," Linley said.
**********
Alan peered through the screen, blinking in the sudden illumination of the room below.
There was Kaley. For a moment, Alan could see no one else. The General was strapped to a chair in the center of the room. His head drooped, and even through the screen Alan could see him shaking. The Jilectan stood over him, a small, square device held in one six-fingered hand. A patrolman stood at a respectful distance from him, and, as Alan watched, the man reached down, caught Kaley beneath the chin and tilted his head up.
A few meters to one side, Alan saw Strike Commander Griffen, his helmet off, his face set and expressionless. Beside him stood another patrolman, his helmet in place, and Alan could see the red rank marks of a Base Commander plainly. Two Commanders, here to attend the show by order of the Jil, he thought.
Valthzor was speaking. "Drop your shields, Terran."
Kaley pressed his lips together and Alan saw him stiffen. The Jilectan pressed a control on the device in his hand, tearing another scream from the prisoner. Alan clenched his jaw as Kaley went limp in the chair. The patrolman brought the prisoner's head up again. "He's fainted, sir."
"Bring him to."
"Yes sir." The man stepped over to a panel on the wall and flicked a switch. Kaley's body jerked, and he groaned.
Alan knew he must hurry. If Kaley was unable to walk, their plan for escape would be foiled. He might already be too late.
With infinite care, he concentrated on the rivets holding the screen in place. The right upper corner ... pull carefully, quietly --
The rivet came loose with a tiny click. Alan jumped at the sound, but no one in the room below appeared to notice. Kaley was moaning and the Jilectan spoke again, but Alan wasn't listening. He concentrated again, feeling sweat spring out on his face. There was another faint click as the rivet on the other side came free. Now the third ... easy ...
The screen, now attached by a single rivet, pivoted downward, the slight squeal it made drowned in another agonized scream from the prisoner.
"Where is the location of your base?" The alien changed his tack abruptly. Alan could hear the pleasure in the silky voice and the sound banished fear in a wave of anger. Valthzor was enjoying what he was doing to the helpless man before him.
"Drop your mind shields, Terran. You cannot resist much longer. You are helpless. No aid will come. I can feel your shielding waver." There was malicious pleasure in the words. "Save yourself pain and suffering. Lower your shields."
Alan made a slight adjustment to his blaster, took careful aim and fired. The *tsing!* of the needle beam went unheard as Kaley screamed again, but the results were more visible. Valthzor pitched silently forward across Kaley's lap.
For an instant no one moved, and then the two commanders sprang toward their fallen master.
"M'lord!"
"He's been shot!" Griffen's voice rose unbelievingly over that of the Base Commander. "He's dead!"
"Freeze!" Alan barked.
There was a stunned silence. Kaley stirred and raised dazed, pain-wracked eyes as the big figure of the Jilectan slid slowly from his lap to sprawl ponderously at his feet.
"Hands over your head!" Alan snapped.
The two Commanders obeyed but the patrolman beside the prisoner leaped backward, his hand darting for his weapon. Alan's blaster hissed again. The man spun sideways and fell.
Alan was already covering the two Commanders again before the patrolman hit the floor. The officers had not moved. He surveyed them grimly. "You, Horowitz! Lie down on your face, hands above your head. One wrong move and I shoot to kill."
The Base Commander did as he was told. Alan gestured with his blaster. "Strike Commander Griffen." His voice sounded strange to his own ears. "Keep your hands above your head. Walk over to the door."
Griffen's eyes widened and all the remaining color drained from his face. He looked sick.
"Do it!" Alan snapped.
Griffen obeyed.
"Open the door," Alan said. "Use your left hand. Keep the other up."
Griffen pushed the switch. The bolt clicked back and the door slid open. Two patrolmen entered, their hands over their heads, and behind them, blasters out, Mark and Dannar.
The Arcturian closed the door behind them, locking it. Mark gestured with the blaster. "Lie down on your faces, boys."
The two men obeyed and Dannar deftly removed the blasters from their holsters, and then from the belts of the two Commanders. Mark spoke again. "Cover 'em, Lieutenant."
Dannar did so. Mark walked over to the ventilator shaft and reached up. "Good job, kid."
"Thanks." Alan passed him the blaster and reached down. Linley caught him by the arms and pulled him free of the passage. Alan straightened his uniform and retrieved his blaster, sticking it into his belt.
Mark gestured to Griffen with his own weapon. "Get outta that uniform, Ron. Alan, you see to Kaley."
Alan went over to their commanding officer and unfastened the straps that held him to the chair. Kaley's head lolled and, as the bonds came loose, he slumped forward into Alan's arms.
"Sir!" Alan lowered him to the floor. "General! Wake up!"
Kaley groaned, his eyelids fluttering. Mark glanced toward Alan. "Well?"
"I don't know." Alan's heart was knocking painfully against his ribs. "He doesn't look good."
Mark came over to kneel beside Alan. "Sir! Sir, wake up! We're gonna getcha outta here, but you gotta walk!"
Kaley's eyes opened and he stared blearily at Alan and Mark, his lips slowly parting in a weak smile. "Linley and Westover. I should have known. What the devil are you doing here ..." His voice faded out and his eyes closed again.
Mark grasped his shoulders, bringing him to a sitting position. "General Kaley! Wake up!"
"He's not going to make it," a voice said.
Alan looked around. The speaker was Strike Commander Griffen, and the color had returned to his face. He had stripped off his uniform, which lay on the floor beside him, and was watching the scene with the utmost interest.
"Shut him up!" Mark said. He bent over Kaley again. "Wake up, sir!"
"Wait," Alan said. He was watching the Strike Commander. The man was frightened, but thinking clearly. "Go ahead, Commander."
Griffen looked at him. "He's been under interrogation for forty-five minutes. You'll have to carry him out of here. He isn't going to walk under his own power; that's for sure."
Mark got to his feet, his face grim. "You got an idea, Ron? Spill it."
Griffen met his gaze. "I want to go with you."
Mark shook his head. "No way. Stun him, Lieutenant. Alan, you get goin'. We'll follow in a couple o' minutes."
Alan shook his head. "No."
"Kid, there's no other way. I'll kill Kaley and we'll get outta here, but you'd better get out now, while the gettin's good."
"Wait," Griffen said. He turned to Alan. "Do you realize what the Jil'll *do* to me when they realize how you got on this base? Valthzor is dead. He's Halthzor's younger brother!"
Mark said a four-letter word. Griffen met Alan's gaze. "Precisely. I saw you, Westover. They'll blame me for not reporting your resemblance to a known criminal immediately to Valthzor. And Parks -- Parks warned me, but I wouldn't listen. Halthzor isn't one to forgive a mistake. I'll be lucky if he just kills me!"
Alan stared into Griffen's dark eyes, searching for a lie and finding none. He looked at Mark, who shook his head emphatically.
"I can get you out of here." Griffen was speaking quietly. "No one will question you if I'm along." His gaze bored into Alan's. "Please!"
There was a long moment of silence and then Alan motioned the man to the interrogation chair. "Sit down, Ron."
Griffen hesitated and then obeyed. Alan glanced at Linley. "Cover him. Set for stun. Then if you brush me, it won't matter."
"We don't have the time," Mark said.
"Mark, do it! Please!" Alan met his partner's eyes. Linley hesitated, clearly reluctant, and then gave in.
"All right. What're you gonna do?"
"A deep mind probe."
Mark opened his mouth and then shut it again. He pointed his blaster at Griffen while Dannar kept his weapon trained on the prostrate forms of the Base Commander and guards.
Alan stepped over to the chair and rested his hand against Griffen's temple. The officer flinched slightly.
"Don't move!" Mark snapped. "If I do have to stun you, as soon as you're down, I'll kill you. Got it?"
The Strike Commander froze. Alan grinned slightly. "Take it easy, Commander. It won't be any different than when the Jils've done it." He closed his eyes and concentrated.
At last he opened his eyes. "All right," he said. "You can come along." He looked at Linley's dubious face. "He's telling the truth. He's got to come with us. If he doesn't, he's a dead man."
Mark hesitated a moment and then nodded. "Okay; I guess there's no other choice, short of killin' Kaley an' beatin' a quick retreat." He motioned to Griffen. "Put your clothes back on. All right, kid, what's the plan?"
Alan told him. Mark listened, keeping one eye on Griffen as he struggled into the snug-fitting uniform. When Alan had finished, he nodded. "Sounds good. Lemme make some adjustments here." He glanced at Dannar. "Stun your friends there, Lieutenant."
"Zey are not my friendss," Dannar said. His blaster hummed methodically three times. The men went slack.
"Put Horowitz in the chair," Mark said. "Help him, kid."
"I'll help," Griffen said. He assisted Dannar to lift the Base Commander into the interrogation chair and fastened the wrist straps.
"Now, cuff the two guards to him," Mark instructed. He was busy hauling the form of the Jilectan out flat. He crossed the six fingered hands across his chest and Alan positioned the heroic patrolman beside him. Mark crossed his hands also.
"Too bad we ain't got no lilies," he remarked. "Guess we'll just hafta do without."
Griffen made a sound suspiciously like a laugh and Mark glanced up at him. "Now now, no disrespect, m'good man." He looked with approval at the two stunned patrolmen. Griffen had placed them on their stomachs beside the chair, cuffed their hands behind them and fastened their legs to the legs of the chair. Since the interrogation chair was fastened to the floor, there was no way the men would be able to stand, much less reach the door. "Okay -- everybody ready?"
There were nods all around.
"Okay then." Mark lifted Kaley by one arm and Dannar took him by the other. Alan went to the door, probing telepathically.
"It's clear," he said. "Let's go." He turned and fired three stunbolts at the men secured to the interrogation chair, and pressed the button beside the door.
IX
Strike Commander Ronald Griffen strode out of the interrogation room followed by his valet, in a slightly torn uniform, and two patrolmen dragging a half-conscious prisoner between them. Alan closed the door behind him and paused. Mark heard the faint click of the locking bolt sliding into place.
"Let's move," he said. "Anythin' funny, Ron, and I'll be damn sure you go down with us."
Griffen smiled slightly. "I know."
Mark nodded. "Okay, let's go."
Griffen turned and moved briskly away down the corridor. Mark, holding one arm of his stumbling commanding officer, strode after him. He hoped fervently that Alan was right about Ronald Griffen. His partner was an excellent telepath and a good judge of character, but Mark knew that Alan was highly sensitive to the feelings of others, and tended to be almost recklessly sentimental when it came to their lives. He hoped that his partner's trusting nature wasn't warping his judgement in the case of Strike Commander Griffen.
They entered the lift and Alan pushed the indicator for the ground floor. The lift groaned into action and moved downward with frustrating slowness. At last, the doors opened in the lobby and Griffen strode confidently out, followed by Mark and Dannar. Alan trailed along in the rear.
No one paid attention to them. Linley kept his visored face straight ahead, but the skin between his shoulder blades itched as he waited for the alarm to sound. They left the main building, strode across the compound and approached the main entrance.
Across the field, a crowd swarmed like flies around the blackened ruins of one of the space ship hangars. A small tendril of smoke was still rising lazily from the debris, and the remains of a huge lifter lay crumpled to one side, looking as if someone had swatted it with an enormous fly swatter. Mark had to hide a respectful grin. So that was how Alan had gotten in. Mark had a good deal of respect for his partner's ingenuity, but there were times when Alan still managed to surprise him.
Griffen dropped his I.D. into the identostamp and spoke into the com. "Prisoner transfer."
There was a businesslike click and the card reappeared in an upper slot. A voice spoke from the com. "I've received no orders from Commander Horowitz. Where is he?"
Mark tensed, feeling Kaley stir in his grasp. The rescued prisoner lifted his head, beginning to struggle weakly.
Griffen's voice betrayed no nervousness as he replied. "He's still with Lord Valthzor. Shouldn't be long. Let us through."
"Yes sir." The energy barrier disappeared. The little group headed across the landing field toward the ship. Kaley struggled a moment more and then stopped. His knees folded and he slumped forward. Dannar bent and lifted Kaley, hoisting him to his shoulders with a grunt of effort. They went up the boarding ramp of the battlecruiser at a businesslike pace and entered the airlock. Griffen hit the manual control and the doors slid shut. He pulled off his helmet and let out his breath in a long "Whew!"
Mark wiped the sweat from his neck. "Thanks, Ron. I guess you're really on the level after all."
Griffen cocked an eyebrow at him and sighed. "I may be unobservant, Patrolman Coots," he said dryly, "But I'm not stupid." He turned to Dannar. "Better take Kaley up to Sick Bay, Patrolman Borrar -- or whoever you are. Doctor Van Kemphin's corpsman checked out right behind us, and the doc was leaving right after he looked in on Mr. Gregson." He gave a faint, sardonic grin. "So you should have the place to yourselves."
The Arcturian sketched a salute and vanished in the direction of Sick Bay. Griffen turned to Alan and Mark. "Most of the crew should still be ashore. If we move fast, we should be able to pull this off all right." He looked grim for a moment. "I almost can't believe I'm doing this, but --" He paused and shook his head. "Hell! I've got nineteen years in the Patrol; you know that? All down the matter converter. And if I stay, I'll be the main event in a public execution on Corala. What a choice!"
Linley glanced dubiously at Alan. Griffen saw it. "Oh, don't worry, Patrolman Coots," he said bitterly. "Even if I were to turn you in personally, I'd be ruined. You know that, don't you? What Jil would leave me in command of a battlecruiser after such a colossal blunder? Would *you*? I'd be kicked out of the Patrol in disgrace."
"More likely sent to the Borantium Cinnabar Mines for life," Mark said.
Griffen laughed: a hard sound with very little humor. "Probably. I guess even life as a fugitive is better than that."
Alan put a hand on his arm. "You don't have to do that, you know. If you'd like, the Terran Underground will take you."
Griffen looked at Alan for a long moment. Linley started to speak, but closed his mouth at a phantom poke in the ribs from his partner's mind. Alan continued, "The Underground has taken in patrolmen before, you know. Life as a fugitive isn't much fun. We can protect you from the Jils and, if you like, we can give you a position where you'll be plenty useful."
"They'd take me?" The hard edge had disappeared. Griffen sounded almost hopeful and yet afraid to hope. "After a stupid mistake like mine?"
"The Underground doesn't blame 'trols for bein' fooled by Terran psychics," Linley said. "I can't promise nothin', but they gave *me* a commission when I changed sides." He grinned. "It helps to be able t'see a man's mind. Then they *know* they can trust him."
"And," Alan added quietly, "I've already taken care of that part."
"I guess that would follow," Griffen said. He put out a hand to Alan. "I see why the Jils say you're dangerous, Gregson -- and I think they underrate empaths. You've got yourself a deal."
Alan smiled shyly and gripped his hand. "You can call me Alan if you'd like."
Griffen shook his head. "Gregson," he said firmly, releasing the hand. "It'll serve as a reminder not to take things at face value. I don't like to make the same mistake twice."
**********
tbc
