Honeymoon: 5/?
by Linda Garrick and Nancy Smith
IV
Lyn dove for the blaster, snatched it up, and spun in time to see Gonnar bolting through the door, Alan still clutched against him.
"Get him!" Lyn charged after the fleeing alien, but Gonnar had too good a head start. He crossed the lobby in half a dozen running steps, kicked the door open and was gone into the whirling whiteness without.
Lyn started after him, but the hotel manager caught her by the arm. "Wait! You can't go chasing him through that!"
"I have to!"
"Hold on a minute." It was Luke. "I'll go with you. Let me get my coat. Where's yours? I'll get it at the same time."
Mr. Dupres was coming down the stairs, clutching his midriff and still bent over slightly. "What's happened? What's going on?" he gasped.
"Those two Arcturians went crazy," Luke informed him. "One of 'em tried to smother the kid. Alan and Lyn tried to stop 'em, and they pulled blasters on 'em and one of 'em took Alan and ran out with him."
"Good God! Where's the other one?"
Teddy staggered from the infirmary, supported by the two bellhops just in time to hear his father's question. "He's in there!" he sobbed. "Out cold. That Raghiki guy mowed him down."
The Raghiki appeared behind the boy and his escort, accompanied by a bewildered, half-hysterical crowd of staff and patrons. Brandy was sobbing hysterically and one of the Procyon males was helping her along. Hunga glared balefully at his unfortunate companions. "Where ith he?" he snarled.
"The Arcturian took him!" Lyn ran across the lobby to snatch a coat from the coat rack. "I'm going after him. Mr. Booker." She turned to the manager, "You'd better keep the other one under control until you can get hold of the police. And guard Megan. These guys might have a confederate."
Luke had returned, wearing a coat and carrying a personal stunner, and to her surprise Miss Pick was with her, too, a small stunner gripped in one gloved hand. Together, all three went out into the whirling whiteness.
Alan's shields were open and his mind drew her toward him. She would catch up, of course, and would rescue Alan, but first she must somehow rid herself of her two companions. Civilians would be of little help in a situation like this. The chances were that Ginnar and Gonnar were Jil operatives, highly trained and utterly ruthless. The Arcturian wouldn't hesitate a moment if the need arose to kill either of her companions -- in fact, she was certain he had intended exactly that back in the infirmary to dispose of all the witnesses. Afterwards he would have identified Alan and Lyn to those who had not been present and would have blamed the murders on the two Terran psychic criminals -- as well as the kidnapping if he could have managed it. And it might very well have worked. People tended to believe what it was most comfortable to believe. Thank God for Hunga and his crazy temper -- as well as his resistance to tranquilizers.
The wind whirled snow into their faces as they proceeded but Lyn unerringly followed her link with her husband's mind. Alan was half-conscious now, and beginning to be aware of his circumstances. He was aware of her mind and silently she urged him to awaken.
The wind hurt. It was furiously cold, hurling snow crystals into their faces. Darkness had begun to fall, and the trees around them howled dismally in the gale. Lyn waited until they were deep in the shrubbery and then dodged quickly to one side through a thick copse of naked branches. She ran as hard as she could, straight up the steep slope. Behind her, faintly, she heard one of her companions -- the young man, she thought -- shouting for her, but she never paused. They wouldn't find her now, and she need have no more concern about them.
The ground had begun to rise steeply under her feet. She was panting, but the thought of Alan and the feel of his mind within hers sent her on.
V
Alan became quietly aware of the discomfort of his position, his aching head, and the icy slap of snow against the side of his face. He was draped across the shoulders of the Arcturian, both his wrists held fast in the clawed hand of the alien. Through their link he could feel Lyn's mind and automatically he relaxed his shields so that they could communicate.
His captor jerked him hard, the needle-sharp talons cutting into his wrists. "Be sstill, Alan Wesstover!" The sibilant voice reached him easily. "If you sstir or attempt to call your partner for help, you will wish you had not."
The cobwebs were fading, and his captor's words registered with a shock of alarm. His earlier suspicions were true. He had been recognized. Gonnar was now attempting to take him to the Jils. But how? The storm was terrible. No aircar could stay aloft in this!
The answer was clear a moment later. Ginnar and Gonnar had a crawler -- the slow but solid ground vehicles designed for traveling in the most adverse conditions. They must have one hidden somewhere near here and undoubtedly that was where young Maggie had been stowed as well. The Arcturian would put him in the vehicle, render him unconscious via stunner or some sort of drug, and then make certain he did not reawaken until he reached the Jils. Odd he thought that the alien hadn't already taken steps to be certain his prisoner remained unconscious. Probably he didn't have another blaster with him, or perhaps, knowing Lyn would be hot on his trail, he simply didn't want to take the time.
Very carefully, Alan relaxed his shielding slightly, extending his psychic senses. He must attempt to slow his captor down and give Lyn enough time to catch up, but he must also be very careful. If Gonnar realized what he was doing, the chances were good that he'd pause long enough to punch his prisoner a good one. Alan had no desire to be knocked unconscious a second time. Once was plenty.
He envisioned the Arcturian's feet, striding steadily up the snowy hillside. There were rocks -- plenty of them, scattered beneath the snow. He judged it, watched Gonnar's foot descend in his mind, and exerted telekinetic pressure on the stone, tilting it sideways.
It turned beneath the alien's foot, causing him to stumble. Alan exerted pressure again, this time on his captor's ankle, throwing his balance off as he tried to recover. With a hissing curse, Gonnar fell to one knee. Rocks slid beside him and beneath him, unbalancing him once. He toppled to one side, Alan's weight pulling him down hard. Alan moved suddenly while his captor was off balance, straightening his body out with a jerk that took skin off of his wrist as it scraped against the Arcturian's claw. Gonnar voiced a savage hiss, trying to retain his hold as Alan rolled sideways and away. With a last, excruciating jerk, his hands came free, and he dove forward through the blizzard, scrambling away from his captor.
Gonnar was after him at once. Alan staggered to his feet, aiming another telekinetic blow at the olfactory nerve plexus below the alien's muzzle. Gonnar's hiss graduated to a moan of pain, but his speed slackened only slightly. His head spinning from the effort, Alan half-tumbled away from him down the slope, letting clairvoyance guide his steps in the dark and snow.
But Gonnar was an Arcturian, not easily daunted by bad weather or adverse terrain. He was catching up, and when he did, Alan knew the alien would overcome him with muscle power alone.
*Lyn! Right here!*
The Arcturian tackled him, bearing him down, the scaled hands pinning his wrists to the ground. Alan aimed another telekinetic punch, and Gonnar hissed shrilly. A large fist rose.
A blaster bolt spat out of the darkness, missing Gonnar by centimeters and a snow-covered branch just beyond the Arcturian's raised fist burst into steam. Alan twisted sideways, striking at his captor. A second bolt spat, and Gonnar was up, running from the scene, vanishing quickly into the darkness.
Alan sat up, gasping. Lyn appeared from the darkness, the blaster they had taken from Ginnar held in one small hand. She flung herself to her knees beside him, clutching him with her free hand. He pulled her hard against him, realizing all at once how cold he was. Gonnar had taken him out into the blizzard without anything that resembled a coat or wrap.
"I'm okay, honey, I'm okay."
"I know." Her voice shook as she pulled off her outer coat, revealing a close fitting parka beneath it. "Put this on, quick, before you freeze, then let's go get him."
He obeyed, slipping on the coat and sealing it with shaking fingers. "He was heading for a crawler, I think. Ten to one he has Maggie there."
They started up the hillside, Alan following the Arcturian's trail. It wasn't difficult. He couldn't see much, but he didn't need to. Gonnar had passed this way seconds ago, and his aura remained. His mind was also still apparent -- not the thoughts, but the life emanations of an Arcturian, easy for Alan, fine tuned as his senses were, to detect them. He ran, with Lyn beside him, clutching the blaster.
Cliffs rose around them. They had entered a narrow gully, the sides of which cut the wind. Did Gonnar know he was being pursued? Probably. He knew he was dealing with Underground agents, and that one of them was Alan Westover. He would at least consider that the famous criminal might be Arcturian-sensitive.
*I don't think I've ever heard of an Arcturian turning against us before.* Lyn's telepathic voice spoke in his mind. *It kind of hurts. I mean, they're sort of in the same boat we are. The Jils don't like them, either.*
*There's good and bad in every species,* Alan returned. *But I know what you mean. I've always liked the Arcturians, too. It's like a betrayal. Sh! Quiet now. We're catching up.*
The Arcturian presence ahead stopped moving. Alan also stopped, taking the blaster from Lyn. His wife was nearly as good a shot as he, but she wasn't as sensitive to Arcturians as he was. He'd stand a much better chance of hitting his mark than Lyn would.
They crept silently forward. Alan felt a prickle of warning as they approached the Arcturian's position -- a feeling that they were missing something. Lyn felt it, too, and her hand slid into his.
They both felt the flash of warning at the same instant and threw themselves flat as a blaster bolt spat from the blizzard ahead. Steam burst around them. Alan rolled away, came to his stomach and returned the fire.
He was shooting blind. There was no presence there. Whoever had fired at them had been shielded, but in spite of that he must have scored. There was a yell of pain and running footsteps. The Arcturian ran in the opposite direction, straight up the rocky incline.
Alan scrambled to his feet, for a moment irresolute. Gonnar had a confederate, all right, and it definitely was not his brother. That yell had been from the throat of a Terran, although so distorted by the wind that he wasn't even sure if the author had been male or female. He wouldn't be able to trace the person -- not with shielding -- but once they had their hands on Gonnar, the name or names of his confederates could be found easily.
*Come on!*
Lyn followed him up the slope.
*Was that Ginnar?* Her telepathic voice was loud in his mind. *He was unconscious! I told them to watch him!*
*It wasn't Ginnar! It was a shielded Terran--at least, I think so.*
*Shielded!* Lyn's return thought was horrified. *The governess, maybe?*
*Maybe.* Alan turned hard left, still following the Arcturian's trail, and saw before them a yawning cavern in the rock wall. He paused, but only for a moment. Lyn's hand gripped his. *What do we do?*
*We go after him,* Alan told her. *He could lead us straight to Maggie.*
*All right.*
They entered the cave, Lyn's hand still in Alan's. It was pitch dark, and neither of them carried anything with which to make a light. Lyn was a pyro -- that is, her psychic powers included the ability to start fires, but at the moment there was nothing flammable for them to use as fuel. Clairvoyance guided them, and their steps were nearly silent on the rock floor.
The trail was easy to follow. Gonnar was scared, and a scared Arcturian left a much more obvious trail than one who was not afraid. Apparently the Jilectans hadn't thought it worthwhile top bother conditioning their Arcturian agents, since so few Terran psychics could read Arcturians anyway. It was a fatal omission in this case, but one typical of Jilectans, of whom none at all were capable of reading an Arcturian.
The cave floor slanted upward and branched. This, Alan thought, must be a section of the Heginthvar Caverns that the waitress had told them of, and where the lost boy had supposedly vanished ten years before. Alan took a moment to wonder about that story now. Was it possible that Gonnar and Ginnar and their unknown confederate had been operating here ten years ago?
He shook off the thought and the image it produced. Better for the kid to have fallen down an abyss than to be caught by the Jils.
He followed the trail grimly, Lyn clinging to his hand. Alan still could see nothing, but he could sense their surroundings -- a vast labyrinth of caverns, stretching as far as his clairvoyant ability could reach.
The Arcturian was moving at a respectable speed, considering that he was traveling in complete darkness with no extrasensory equipment such as they possessed to guide him. Alan increased his own pace, every sense that he possessed now on full alert. The corridor branched and he turned right without hesitation. Arcturians could see well in the dark, but not in this kind of dark. This was impenetrable, without a speck of light. Even an Arcturian would be blind in this.
They were getting close. A speck of light appeared ahead, growing gradually larger. It wasn't light, really, Alan realized. It was a circle of lesser darkness against the total blackness of the cave. And silhouetted against that circle was the form of the Arcturian. He was looking back and had seen them. A gust of wind blew into their faces. They had reached an outlet of the cave, Alan realized, and yet their quarry was making no attempt to flee.
An instant later he knew why. The cave ended in a steep drop of a thousand meters or more, and at the bottom of the drop flowed an icy river. They had him cornered!
"I have you covered, Gonnar!" he called. "Put your hands up!"
No reply. The blaster held steady before him, Alan advanced.
"Don't move!" he told the alien. If he could just get close enough, he would stun Gonnar. They must immobilize him long enough for Alan to probe him and learn the name of his confederate. If they killed him, his knowledge would die with him. Ten more steps and he would be close enough.
With a sudden, furious hiss, Gonnar dropped flat on his stomach. Quick as a snake he wiggled over the edge of the cliff. Alan ran forward and went to his hands and knees to peer over the edge. Lyn was right behind him.
The Arcturian was attempting to descend the nearly sheer cliff wall, his scaled hands clutching rock projections, the retractile claws extended. Alan dropped flat on his abdomen. "You'll fall, you idiot! Come back!"
A thin hiss answered him. Gonnar was no idiot after all, he realized. He knew he was dead if Alan and Lyn managed to capture him. The Underground did not deal gently with psychic hunters.
Well, perhaps he was close enough for Alan to read him still. Rapidly he extended his probe, trying to pierce the alien's natural resistance. Gonnar descended a few centimeters, the clawed hands scrabbling for a hold. Alan felt his mind, the glimmer of thoughts. Foremost was his conviction that he must not allow the Underground to take him alive. If he did, and even if they didn't kill him, when he returned to report his failure, the Jils certainly would.
"Wait!" Alan tried to extend his probe further, at the same time speaking gently and compellingly. "Gonnar, listen to me! My partner, Mark Linley, was a Jil flunky, too. You don't need to go back to them! The Underground always has use for a clever, resourceful being."
Gonnar paused, the yellow eyes glaring up at him. "You are lying, Terran psychic!"
"You're going to fall if you don't come back. Please, just give me a chance. You're an Arcturian. I'm a Terran psychic. The Jils don't like either of us. Don't you see? Like it or not, we're really in the same position. Now please, come back."
Gonnar hesitated, and desperately Alan tried to extend his probe further. Gonnar sensed it and jerked uncontrollably. His claws slipped on the nearly sheer wall, and, with a long hissing shriek, he fell. Lyn screamed and covered her face.
It had all ended so quickly and so futilely. For a moment Alan lay motionless, his forehead cushioned against his clenched fist. Then, with a long sigh, he got to hands and knees, and moved back from the brink.
Lyn half fell into his arms, and for a few minutes they were motionless, their arms clasped tightly around each other. The cold wind blew past them, and outside the blizzard shrieked.
At last Lyn stirred, lifting her head. "We'd better go back, Alan. If Ginnar hasn't escaped, you'll be able to read him at least and discover his confederate's name."
"You're right." Alan gently disengaged himself. "Damn! If I could just have...."
"That's enough." Her voice broke into his futile regrets. "You tried your best. Come on. Let's get back."
They rapidly retraced their steps, trying to move as fast as possible. It had been a long day, and both were extremely tired. Alan reflected grimly that no couple had ever had such an unromantic honeymoon. The trail back seemed to take forever and by the time they reached the lodge they were staggering.
"You know," he remarked as they neared their destination, "Mark and maybe Kevin too are probably on the way. I probably linked with them both when Gonnar grabbed me. I was scared silly."
"No doubt," Lyn said tiredly. "Oh well, it'll be nice to have some help in this, even if it is a little late."
"Yeah."
They staggered up the steps of the lodge. The door was locked. Numb with cold and fatigue, Alan reached for it reflexively with telekinesis, then restrained himself. The inhabitants of the lodge had had time enough to put together what they had witnessed in the infirmary this afternoon, and were probably already thinking psychics when it came to Lyn and Alan. Mr. Norton Sears might well turn them in, and any of the others might, too. Teddy certainly would. But for now they were protected by the storm and no word could be gotten through. He would check on the guests and staff, he decided, and see how much they had guessed. He couldn't check on Miss Pick, of course, but then she might well be the Jil agent, anyway.
He knocked. There was a pause and then the door was opened by one of the bellhops. He stood back, ushering them through. Alan probed the fellow's mind as he went by. Excitement and intrigue concerning the events that had been taking place here -- but no hint that he suspected their identities or abilities. "How's everything here?" he asked.
"Okay, sir. Young Mr. Dupres had a blaster burn to his shoulder and a few bruises where Mr. Hunga stepped on him. They said the Arcturian tried to kill him and missed or something."
The lodge manager and Miss Pick had sighted Alan and Lyn and were hurrying toward them. "Are you all right?" the lodge manager asked.
"Did you find him?" Miss Pick asked. She glanced inscrutably at Lyn. "You lost us out there. Young Luke was quite concerned for your safety."
"I'm sorry," said Lyn. "I don't know how it happened."
"Yeah. Where's Gonnar?"
"He -- "
"He was killed," Lyn said. "He fell down a cliff face."
The manager groaned, rubbing his forehead with one hand.
"The other one's safe?" Alan asked quickly.
"Yes." The manager sighed. "In one of the vacant upstairs rooms. I have him under guard. Were you hurt, Mr. Woodruff? We were all very concerned."
"No. I got away from him." Alan was probing the manager. The man's main concern right now was the harm this incident was going to do his business. "Look, can I see Ginnar, just for a minute?"
"He's still unconscious. The guard's keeping an eye on him, but I doubt he'll be coming to for awhile." The man sighed. "Hunga gave him a bad concussion."
"Why's he in a room upstairs?"
"It didn't seem like a good idea to put him in the infirmary with the little girl -- even under guard."
"Yes, of course." Alan nodded. "Still, I'd like to see him."
"Well, I don't see why not." The lodge manager nodded to the bellhop. "Take Mr. Woodruff up to the room, Dave. Better stay with him, though."
"Sure."
Alan and Lyn went with the boy. He led them up the stairs, past Mr. Sears' room and paused before Room number 2. A young man stood by the door, yawning. He straightened up when he saw them. "Oh, hi Dave." His gaze went to Alan. "Mr. Woodruff -- glad you're okay, sir. We were worried."
"Thanks." Alan nodded toward the door. "Anyone else show up and try to see this guy?"
"The Arcturian? Nope. He's chained to the bed, but he doesn't need it. He's out cold. The doc said he has a concussion."
Alan stared at the door, a sinking sensation in his stomach. There was nothing from within the room -- no quiver of life energy -- nothing. Dave opened the door and started across the room.
The Arcturian lay still in the white bed, apparently still asleep. But Alan knew instantly that he wasn't asleep. He was dead.
"He's been shot," he said.
Dave said a four-letter word and crossed the room in two steps. He stared speechlessly down at the still figure. The greenish scales had lost their luster, the skin seemed to sag away from the closed eyes. A charred spot, perhaps two centimeters in diameter showed just below the creature's slack crest.
"My God!" Another four-letter word followed and the bellhop fled from the room shouting for the manager. The guard bolted in, saw the body, and also fled from the room.
"It seems," Lyn said quietly, "that Ginnar's confederate was afraid he'd talk."
"Either that, or he knew he was dealing with Terran psychics." Alan's throat was dry and he was forced to swallow twice before continuing. "If he's a Jil agent, he might well have been in that group downstairs when Gonnar took us at blasterpoint, and no Jil agent could miss the fact that we're psychics."
A thunder of feet on the stairs and the manager entered accompanied by the horrified bellhops, Miss Pick, Teddy Dupres and his father, both Procyon males and the honeymooners. The group stared in consternation at the figure on the bed.
"How was he killed?" Mr. Booker demanded, coming across the room to stare down at the dead alien.
"Needle beam." Alan stepped back, at the same time extending a probe toward the man's mind. Nothing. The fellow radiated horror, anger and fear.
"How the hell did he get in?" Booker turned angrily on the young guard. "Did you fall asleep?"
"No, sir! I swear it!"
"You must have!"
Lyn went to the window. The lock was a melted lump of metal. "Whoever did it needle-beamed the lock."
"But how did he get up? There's no --"
"He climbed up," Lyn said. "There's a drainpipe outside. He shinnied up it, beamed the lock and opened the window."
"My God!" The manager nodded. "Yes, you're right. There's no other explanation."
Lyn went over to the door and Alan felt her small hand slip into his. She was shaking with fatigue and strain. He gripped her hand tightly.
The other patrons were crowding forward to gawk at the body in the bed. Alan slipped an arm around Lyn's shoulders and drew her quietly from the room. He saw Miss Pick glance toward them, but no one else noticed their exit.
Alan crossed the hallway, concentrated a moment and then opened the door. They went in, closed it and locked it.
"Oh Alan!" Lyn sounded almost ready to cry. "What a horrible honeymoon! What are we going to do?"
He took her in his arms and held her tightly. Weariness pulled at him and suddenly he wanted nothing but to fall into bed and feel Lyn's warmth beside him. But, of course, he couldn't. The person who had killed the Arcturian was still at large -- a desperate, dangerous individual, who probably knew who and what they were.
Lyn drew a long, quivering breath and lifted her head. "Whoever it is, he must have selective shielding," she stated. "We've probed everyone, and haven't picked up anything. And he knew the layout of the place -- where Ginnar was, and that the door was guarded, and everything. It's got to be someone here at the lodge."
"It could be the governess."
"Do you think she could have made it up that drainpipe in this weather?"
Alan considered the woman's short, dumpy figure. "No, I guess not. It had to be someone in pretty good physical shape."
"And that includes just about everybody here -- except Miss Pick." Lyn sighed. "We should check on Megan. This guy might have killed her, too. He got Ginnar, and she's on the first floor."
"You're right." Alan stood up, feeling his muscles protest, and went quietly to the door. "And we can't stay here tonight, either. This guy's going to be after us for sure."
Lyn nodded. Together they went out, down the stairway and across to the infirmary. A young man stood guard beside the door.
"We'd like to see the girl," Alan said.
The man glanced at a wrist chronometer. "Why don't you go to bed, Mr. Woodruff. It's getting late."
"The other Arcturian's been killed." Alan was already extending his probe toward the young man's mind. He was met by thoughts quite unremarkable considering the situation.
"Killed, huh? I heard the commotion. Who killed him?"
"Someone who was afraid he'd talk, I guess. Could we please see the little girl? We want to be sure she's all right."
"Sure, I guess so. The doc's with her." The guard opened the door and Alan and Lyn entered.
The doctor straightened up with a tired sigh. "Hello. Are you all right, Mr. Woodruff?"
"Fine. How's Megan?"
"Better. She came to for a few minutes and asked about her sister. I don't think she has any idea where she is, though. She seemed pretty vague."
Alan looked down at the sleeping child. "Did you know the other Arcturian's dead?"
"Dead? How?"
"Someone needle beamed him through the brain."
"Good God! Who? Not his brother!"
"Gonnar's dead. He fell down a cliff wall out there."
"Good God!" the doctor repeated. "Then who killed Ginnar?"
"I don't know. Look, you'd better have someone stay with Megan tonight. Whoever did this is probably the kidnapper -- the one who took her sister. He was afraid Ginnar'd give him away, so he killed him. He may make another try for Megan, or, failing that, kill her, too."
The doctor looked horrified. "This is incredible!"
"Perhaps you'd stay with her?"
"I'll sleep in here -- and post another guard." The doctor grimaced. "What is this world coming to?"
Alan could feel Lyn's mind within his, nudging him. *Wouldn't it be better if we watched Megan?*
She was right, he supposed, and yet, such an act would undoubtedly appear suspicious to the staff and patrons, some of whom were already wondering about these two very alert newlyweds. And besides, staying there might be very dangerous for them.
Miss Pick entered the infirmary accompanied by Mr. Booker. The hotel manager looked tired and very worried. "Oh, there you are, Mr. Woodruff -- Mrs. Woodruff. Look, we obviously have an emergency situation here, and I will be posting guards everywhere tonight. Two of them will be with the little girl, and there will be several in the hallway outside your room. You can sleep in peace, and you look like you need it. Please go to your room now."
Alan nodded. "Thanks. I am pretty tired, but --"
Lyn interrupted. "May I make a suggestion, Mr. Booker?"
"Yes?"
"Megan might be able to identify her assailant -- and the criminal knows that. I suggest you move her to another location without telling anyone, and post guards in the room with her. That way if the guy comes looking for her, he might have trouble finding her."
"I agree," Miss Pick said. "Do you have a vacant room?"
"I suppose you're right." The man's mind was working rapidly. "I'll put her in the extra guest room behind the kitchen. Most people don't even know about it."
"Let's keep it that way," Miss Pick said firmly.
Alan and Lyn retreated quietly from the room and paused for an instant in the lobby. The chronometer on the wall chimed softly. It was 0115. Several people were present, watching them -- Alan saw young Luke, Teddy, and Hunga, and the Raghiki's yellow eyes narrowed balefully when he saw Alan. Alan edged away from him. Luke came over to them, standing between Alan and the Raghiki. Luke wasn't a big man, but he was considerably taller than Alan. The Raghiki's lip lifted, disclosing a long, sharp, slightly greenish fang.
"Stay away from him, Hunga." Luke's voice was level, non-threatening yet firm. "We've got enough problems here."
A low snarl from the Raghiki. Luke turned to Alan. "So, what's going on?" he spoke in an undertone. "What's the plan for tonight?"
Alan shrugged. He dared tell no one -- not even this likable young man -- that Megan was to be moved to another location. They were dealing with a selectively shielded Jil agent among the hotel guests. He was sure of that now. "Guards posted," he told Luke. "I guess that's about all they can do until the storm lets up. He can't get hold of the police until then."
"Yeah. Isn't he going to move the kid? It seems to me she's the one in the most danger."
"I don't know." Carefully he extended his probe again, searching the young man's mind. Nothing. No sign of shielding. He could feel Lyn's mind questing mind too, checking, probing, seeking...and finding nothing.
"I don't like this," Luke was saying. "Nobody's safe if we have a murderer running around here. Why do you suppose Ginnar was killed?"
"He knew too much," Lyn said. "The murderer was afraid he'd talk."
"So you think this whole thing is just a kidnapping plot that went screwy?"
"I guess so. What else could it be?"
"I don't know." Luke shook his head as though unconvinced. "I'm going to lock our door and all the windows and rig some kind of alarm before I go to sleep tonight."
"I think that's a good idea," Alan told him. "I think I will, too."
Young Luke's thoughts shifted. This guy looked awfully familiar. Where had he seen him before?
Lyn spoke, trying to turn the man's thoughts. "How's Brandy handling all this?"
The young man smiled faintly. "Brandy's a tough little girl. She spent the first five years of her life on Shallock. I'm sure you noticed her accent."
"Yes."
"Kids raised on Shallock aren't fazed by much. She screamed when she saw that guy's blaster, but I'm sure it was just an act. She's seen blasters before, and isn't a bad shot with one. But by screaming, she looked helpless and hysterical -- and not a threat. Brandy's smart."
"But it might have homed him in on her."
Luke shrugged. "He already had and very few Arcturians want to drag around hysterical hostages. Too much trouble. He figured you were a safer bet." Luke grinned suddenly. "I guess he was wrong."
"No, he was right. Lyn caught up with him."
Luke was looking at him too closely again. Alan turned discreetly away. "Well, I'm heading for bed."
"Good idea. Where the heck is the lift?" Luke glanced at the lift door beside them. It opened as they approached.
Hunga lumbered after them, obviously intending to enter the lift with them. Alan paused, motioning the creature ahead of them. "You can have this one, Mr. Hunga. I'll wait for the next."
The Raghiki glared at him, his small yellow eyes narrowing. "You don't trust me!" he snarled, slurring his words slightly.
Luke muffled a laugh. "Of course he does, Mr. Hunga. He's got such good reason to!"
The sarcasm was lost on Hunga. The creature bared his teeth at Alan. "You are ha beegott, Terran! You are repulsed by my appearance! Well I am repulsed by yours has well!"
"Sorry," Alan said.
"You hattacked me!"
"I didn't see you. I ran into you and I apologized."
"I did not hear you do so!"
"You were screaming too loud."
The creature snarled at him, coming a step nearer. Alan took a step back. Luke moved over beside Alan. "Go to bed, Hunga."
The snarl intensified. Alan drew the confiscated blaster from his pocket and pointed it at the creature. "Mr. Hunga, I'm too tired to argue with you. If you want another apology, then you have it. I'm sorry. I ran into you, and I should have been watching where I was going. But if you try to attack me again, I swear I'll shoot you dead. Now back off."
Hunga stared at the weapon.
"Back off," Alan repeated. His mind was inside Hunga's at the moment, and he knew this wasn't going to work. Raghiki minds were too primitive to give in to such tactics. The creature was going to jump him. He sensed, rather than saw, the tensing of Hunga's muscles and leaped sideways. Hunga catapulted forward, crashing into the wall. The panel cracked and plaster rained down, accompanied by paint chips. Alan grabbed Lyn and retreated, Luke beside him. The manager came out of the infirmary, accompanied by the doctor. Alan caught a glimpse of Teddy's grin as he backed away, the blaster leveled at Hunga, who was slowly getting to his feet.
"Stay with the girl!" Mr. Booker ordered the young bellhop and ran across to Alan. Hunga snarled savagely, getting to his feet.
"Do you have your stun gun?" Alan asked him, not taking his eyes from the Raghiki.
"In my office."
"Get it quick. I don't want to shoot him."
The manager ran to obey. Alan backed away, the blaster leveled. Hunga shrieked and leaped and again Alan jumped lightly to one side. Hunga missed, swerved, and struck young Luke. The young man was hurled sideways and the Raghiki hit him a second time. Then a third.
Alan fired. The beam caught Hunga's shoulder, burning away cloth and shriveling hair, but Hunga did not go down, as a Terran most certainly would have. He spun on Alan with a shrieking curse and lunged for his victim. Alan fired again, burning the other shoulder. The manager was coming toward them at a run. Lyn swung a lamp at the creature, trying to distract it. The weapon connected with a dull thud, but Hunga didn't even slow down. Alan fired a fourth time, burning the creature's leg. It screamed again and lunged.
The soft spitting of the dart gun sounded and one of the missiles appeared in Hunga's right side. The Raghiki paid no attention. Luke grabbed one hairy arm and was hurled away. Alan went down before the creature's weight.
Then Hunga's great body slackened. He wiggled from beneath it, breathless and rubbing his cheek which had struck the floor hard. Lyn and Booker pulled him to his feet.
"Are you hurt, Mr. Woodruff?"
Alan shook his head, breathless. Several lodge employees arrived and Booker gestured to them. "Take him to the infirmary and have Avon sedate him. I've about had it with him! As though we didn't have enough problems!"
The Raghiki was dragged away. Alan glanced at Luke. "Thanks."
"No problem. You'd better go to bed." The young man grinned tiredly. "You've had a busy day."
Teddy went past, grinning sardonically. In sudden anger, Alan gave one of the boy's feet a telekinetic push to the side. Teddy stumbled and went heavily to one knee. He cussed fluently, looked stupid, got up, and entered the lift. Alan, Lyn, and Luke joined him.
"Are you okay?" Lyn asked innocently.
Teddy scowled at her, not answering. The lift slid to a stop and they exited. Teddy strode ahead, cursing in an undertone. Luke snickered and paused at his own door. Alan extended one more probe toward him. Luke was tired, but he was also excited. In the back of his mind curiosity was about Alan and Lyn, but Alan was too tired to investigate his thoughts more closely for the moment.
The door closed between them. Alan put an arm around Lyn. "Well, my dear, where shall we rest our tired bodies tonight?"
Lyn smiled up at him. "I noticed a fine broom closet at the end of the hall...."
They took quilts and pillows from their bed, arranged rolls of blankets beneath the spread to simulate sleeping bodies, and left the room, locking the door securely behind them.
The broom closet looked bleak and cold. They arranged their bedding on the floor behind a huge shelf of cleaning supplies and lay down to sleep, huddling together on the hard floor. All was very still. After a moment, Lyn got up and took the blaster from him. He heard her go over to the door and employ the needle beam of the weapon to weld the door shut. Then she slid into the makeshift bed beside him again, huddling in his arms. He could feel her breathing light and fast against his cheek.
Alan relaxed, holding her. The darkness seemed to close in around them. His muscles ached, his head throbbed and his eyes burned. His whole body seemed to quiver with strain and exhaustion.
Lyn's hand touched his cheek. There was something very soothing in the feel of her small hand stroking him so gently and lovingly. It seemed to drain the tension from him. He closed his eyes and drifted into dreamless sleep.
**********
He wasn't sure what woke him. Not a sound, certainly, but the impression, perhaps, of movement outside the door. Alan pushed the covers back, hearing Lyn's sleepy groan beside him. The glowing disk of his chronometer informed him that it was 0540.
*What is it?* Lyn's voice spoke in his mind.
*Someone just went past the door.*
Lyn got up and crossed the room silently. Alan removed the blaster from his pocket and employed the needle beam to unweld the door. They peered out.
The hallway was dim and deserted. Alan scanned quickly but could sense nothing nearby, except for the sleeping presences in the rooms down the corridor.
Fear prickled on his skin. There was danger here, but toward whom was it directed? Not themselves, he was certain.
"Megan!" Lyn whispered. She started to run down the corridor toward the lift, Alan beside her. The doors opened at their approach and they pelted through. Alan jammed the first floor indicator and they moved slowly downward.
The reached the first level after an endless journey and ran across the lobby to the kitchen and the room beyond. They paused before the door, and Alan concentrated.
Everyone within the room was asleep, but the psychic mind of the little girl was gone.
*Hold your breath!* he told Lyn, and then thrust the door open. The room was hazy with sleep gas.
He ran across, slid the window open and looked quickly around. The doctor and the two young bellhops were slumped on the floor in various attitudes of repose. Megan was gone.
Lyn grabbed his arm and dragged him from the room. He went with her and they moved away from the doorway before gulping huge breaths of air.
"Now what?" Lyn asked.
"I'll go after her. I still have the ring. You go upstairs and see who's missing, and then follow me."
"I --"
"It'll help if we know who the agent is. Don't worry. I won't do anything unless there's no other choice. And you be careful! This guy could have another confederate we know nothing about. And he's probably been looking for us all night." Alan withdrew the ring from his pocket and looked at it, concentrating. Megan's that way." He pointed northeast, toward the caves where Gonnar had died. "Still unconscious and moving. She's not to far away. I'll take the power skis." He glanced across the lobby at the rental desk.
"Okay." Lyn clutched him suddenly. "Be careful, Alan."
"I will." He watched her go up the stairs, and then ran across to the rental desk. No one was around. The cabinet that held the smaller rental equipment was securely locked, but that was no barrier to Alan. He reached out almost absently with telekinesis and felt it pop open beneath his mental fingers. Swiftly he selected a pair of skis and closed the cupboard again without locking it. Alan turned to the exit, pulling his overcoat tightly around him.
The blizzard still raged, and if not for the skis he would have foundered up to his thighs. They came to life beneath his feet and propelled him smoothly forward through the blinding snow. Within two minutes he knew he was gaining on his quarry. Whoever carried Megan was not an expert power skier. Neither was Alan, for that matter, but he was better than the individual he pursued.
It was still very dark, and the wind was violent, slapping him viciously in the face. He ducked his head against it and sped grimly on.
**********
tbc
