Honeymoon: 6/6
By Linda Garrick and Nancy Smith
VI
Lyn ran lightly up the stairway, her psychic senses wide open and scanning. She could sense minds above her, and, as she reached the landing, she identified the nearer ones. Luke and Brandy were in their room, sound asleep. Lyn hardly gave them a second thought. She ran past their own quarters, paused a moment and then on impulse stepped back and opened the door.
And nearly choked. The atmosphere in the room was rancid with sleep gas. A pellet had been detonated in here perhaps an hour ago -- perhaps more. Alan had been right, as usual. The Jil agent had been looking for them, but failing, he had taken Megan and run. He would reach his transportation, most likely a crawler, and would head for civilization. Once there, he would report that Underground agents were at the lodge and reinforcements would be sent.
She could feel Alan's mind touching hers, working along with her own thoughts as psychic partners always did. Lyn closed the door to their room and went on to the room occupied by the Raghiki. It was vacant, of course. Hunga was in the infirmary downstairs almost directly below her. She could sense his mind, savage and unmistakable even in a drugged sleep.
She went past the Arcturians' empty room and on to the Dupres'. Teddy was there, his mind drowsy but awake, and presently employed in reading a pornographic magazine. But his father was missing.
The realization struck her like a blow. Dupres was missing -- Dupres, whose wife had been killed by the Jils. Was it possible he was the agent? His mind had seemed so normal and unremarkable when she had probed him. But then, that was the way of selective shielding -- what made it such an asset. If Dupres was the agent though, then he was an extremely clever and resourceful man. They had detected nothing amiss! Not even Alan.
Only two rooms remained. Mr. Sears was asleep in his. She detected his mind easily. The last room belonged to the governess and her young charges. Lyn concentrated.
The governess' shielding would, of course, prevent her from sensing a mind, but clairvoyance allowed her to see within the room. The image formed hazily in her mind, becoming clearer a moment later. The mound of a sleeping form in the bed.
But something about that form aroused her suspicions -- perhaps because she and Alan had created similar mounds in their own beds the night before. She knocked.
No answer, and in her mind the form didn't move. A very sound sleeper? Maybe.
She knocked again. No response. Lyn placed a hand upon the door latch. Telekinetic energies reached.
Her control wasn't as good as Alan's and she had to focus all her attention on what she was doing. There was the lock.
It moved beneath her mental fingers and slid aside. The door hissed open.
A shock of alarm coursed through her then and she spun about. Teddy Dupres was standing before the door of his room.
He was clad in silky white pajama bottoms and his chest was bare. His dark hair was tousled, but his eyes, bright blue in the shadowy hallway, shone with the triumph of discovery.
It was Teddy who spoke first. "She went running out twenty minutes ago."
"Really?" Lyn managed to keep her voice normal. "Alone?"
"Actually, I think she had arranged a rendezvous with my father." His smile was nasty. "She was just his type."
"When did your father leave?"
He came toward her, still smiling, eyes summing up her face, her figure. "How do you know he's gone?"
"You just said he was."
"I was joking."
"Then he isn't gone?"
"What do you think?"
"I don't know."
"Oh yes you do. You're a psychic. I saw you open that door, neat as anything. You're a psychic -- a trained psychic. An Undergrounder, no doubt -- smart, trained and ruthless." He was standing directly before her now, and his smile had become a grin. "I knew you were my kind of girl the first time I saw you."
Lyn didn't retreat. "What do you want, Teddy?"
"I've heard psychic women are great lovers. Is it true?"
"I don't know. I've never made love to one."
He burst out laughing. "Good answer, baby." He put a hand on her shoulder, caressing it lightly.
She moved back. "Megan's been taken again. My husband and I just checked on her. Tell me; you and your father come to this lodge a lot. Has anything like this ever happened to you before?"
"Nothing like you has ever happened to me before."
Again she moved back from his hand. "I know a boy vanished here ten years ago. You'd have been eight or so at the time. Were you and your father here then?"
"Oh, sure." His hand sought her shoulder again and this time she let it remain. "Dumb kid ran off and got lost in a blizzard. No great loss."
"Were Gonnar and Ginnar here at the time?"
"Huh? Yeah, I think so." His hand caressed her shoulder and slid down toward her breast.
"You stay at a lot of resorts -- you and your father, don't you?"
"Yeah." The hand cupped her breast. Lyn gritted her teeth. "Has this ever happened at those other vacation spots -- people disappearing, I mean?"
He put his arms around her, forcing her back into the governess' room. "You talk too much."
"It has, hasn't it? People have disappeared!"
He shut the door, annoyance beginning to radiate from him. "Yeah, now that you mention it. A boy once while we were on Pasqueli, during a monsoon. And an old lady on Grovinth a couple of years ago."
"Were Ginnar and Gonnar there?"
"I didn't even know Ginnar or Gonnar. I hate Arcturians. Yeah, I think they were there. So what?"
"Because I think your father is a Jil spy. I think he visits these resort worlds for the purpose of picking up psychics. Psychics come to places like this. They love sports, but they tend to be noncompetitive because of their size. Pasqueli and Grovinth are the same way. Pasqueli is famous for its water sports, and Grovinth for its hiking and fishing."
"Shut up." His hand began to fumble at the fastening on her parka. "You're crazy. My father's no Jil spy. He hates Jils. They killed his wife."
Lyn twisted suddenly, breaking free from his hold, and stepped back. "That's an unusual way for a young man to talk about his parents. I would have said 'my mother' not 'his wife'."
He shrugged. "Big deal. He never talks about her. I don't even know what she looked like."
"No photographs?"
"No." He came toward her again.
"No other relatives?" Lyn backed away.
"Nope. Dad's an only child and his parents are dead. C'mere, you!"
Lyn continued to evade him. "How about your mom's parents?"
"They were killed at the same time she was. Come here!"
Lyn shook her head. "Oh come on, Teddy. Isn't this a little too convenient?"
He made another grab for her, less forceful now and paused, scowling. "What do you mean?"
"Why were your mom's parents killed?"
"Because they were psychics too, stupid. I thought you know about things like that. Psychics produce psychics."
At least he was no longer chasing her. "That's true," she agreed. "They do. So why aren't you a psychic?"
He shrugged. "Just lucky, I guess."
"A little too lucky, I think."
"Huh?"
"Was your mother an only child, too?" Lyn asked.
"Yeah, she was."
"Really? So you're alone except for your father, and you're the only child of a psychic woman with two psychic parents, and yet you had the good fortune not to be a psychic, yourself."
"You got it, baby." He grinned nastily.
"Good Lord, Teddy, open your eyes! Your father's a Jil plant, and I doubt the mother you've been told about ever existed. Your father's a Jil operative. He used Ginnar and Gonnar to spot psychics and then grabbed them and turned them in."
"You're crazy, baby." He caught her arm, yanked her hard against him and tried to kiss her. Lyn employed a technique taught by the Underground, heard him grunt with pain and felt his hold loosen. She twisted hard, managed to free herself and leaped away. Psychic energies reached out and heat flared. The area around the groin of Teddy's pajamas smoked suddenly, and a darkening circle appeared. Teddy yelped. The circle became a hole with rapidly widening, blackened edges. Teddy screamed, beating at the area with both hands. Lyn went past him and out the door.
But Teddy was tougher than that. He sprinted after her, screaming obscenities at her. Ahead, doors were opening. Brandy and Luke emerged, and Mr. Sears, and just as she reached the lift the doors opened and Hunga charged out. Lyn dodged the huge alien with lithe speed and catapulted into the lift. Teddy, in full pursuit, plowed headlong into the Raghiki.
"First floor!" she gasped, and the doors started to slide closed. Behind her she could hear the infuriated howls of Hunga, and Teddy's protesting cries. She didn't glance back.
The lift opened on the ground floor and she entered the dimly lighted sitting room. All was still, but that wouldn't last, she knew. If someone upstairs called the staff for help, they would discover Megan's disappearance. Lyn crossed the room at a run to the small hotel lobby at the lodge's entrance, snatched skis from the unlocked rental cupboard and went out into the howling blizzard.
Lyn's own father had been a champion power water-skier on his watery home world of New Hawaii, and he'd become one on the snowy mountain slopes of Riskell, the world where Lyn had grown up. He had taught his daughter all the skill and tricks of the art. Lyn sped forward through the shrieking wind, keeping her head down and guiding the skis almost without effort. Alan's mind was ahead of her, drawing gradually closer.
It seemed to take forever. Up the slope toward the Heginthvar caverns she sped, physically blind in the gale but guiding herself unerringly with clairvoyance. The way grew rapidly steeper and more difficult, but Lyn's training prevailed. It was growing lighter, she realized. Dawn wasn't far away.
The first of the caverns loomed out of the blowing snow, a dark blot against the rock wall. She went past it, still following Alan's lead. She was catching up. Alan was a good skier, but not as good as Lyn. And besides, he was clairvoyantly tracking an unconscious girl. That took effort and concentration. Lyn was following her psychic partner and that took no effort at all.
She went past more caverns and sensed Alan ahead of her, very near now, slowing his speed a little as he realized he was nearing his quarry. She sensed a start of horror from him. *Lyn!* His voice rang in her mind, *The blaster's gone! I must have dropped it back there! Do you see it?*
Lyn paused, sweeping the area with her clairvoyant power. Nothing except for the whirling snow. *I don't sense it. Do you have any idea of where you dropped it?*
*I fell down about ten minutes ago -- near the first of the caves. It must have been there.*
*I'll go back and get it.*
She felt worry in his mental voice. *He's taken Megan into a cave. He must have transport in there -- probably a crawler. If he takes off in that with her --*
*Alan, we need that blaster! He'll be armed, and you know it!*
*How long will it take?*
*No more than ten minutes if I can find it.*
*Okay. Hurry.*
Lyn was already moving down the slope, practically flying, her skis seeming to skim over the piled snow. In less than four minutes she reached the spot and stopped, her mind scanning the area. Nothing. She reached out with clairvoyance, tracing her way back and forth, sensing faintly the spot where Alan had fallen, and finding nothing.
*It's not here!*
Through the link she sensed his consternation. *It must be!*
*It's not!*
*Man, some agent I am! Lose the only blaster we have! Okay, come on. Hurry!*
Lyn made one final scan, then sped up the slope again. Alan was stationary now and waiting for her. She reached him within minutes and stopped beside him, staring at the cave mouth. She could sense the aura of the psychic girl somewhere within.
*Okay, let's go.*
They removed their skies, concealed them behind a rock, and entered the cave. Total darkness surrounded them and they proceeded, guided by clairvoyance. Alan took a left, then a right, moving rapidly now as the distance closed between him and his quarry.
Ahead there was a light shining faintly through the darkness. Alan drew Lyn to the side and they crept cautiously forward, their feet almost silent on the cave floor. Ahead there were sounds of effort and a muttered imprecation. They reached an opening in the cave wall, perhaps a meter and a half in diameter and peered through.
VII
It was a small, natural cavern roughly five meters by six and lit by an atomic handlight that lay on the rock floor. A crawler was parked in the center, and crouched beside that crawler, apparently struggling with the treads, was the form of a Terran. As they watched, Alan heard another savage curse. From within the crawler came the mental aura of both psychic girls.
That blaster would be real convenient right now, Alan thought. Still, together, he and Lyn could probably handle the guy even unarmed. They just needed to get close enough for Lyn's pyro ability to come into play. The guy was undoubtedly armed, but if his boots or his coat were on fire he was unlikely to think of his blaster.
They saw him rise and his head turned slightly. The features of Max Dupres came into view. The man was unshaven, and appeared tired. Slowly he walked around the crawler, and squatted down, beginning to struggle with the treads on the opposite side. Evidently, Alan thought, he was intending to leave, apparently abandoning Teddy. Perhaps he had decided that the boy was becoming more of a nuisance than he was worth.
*Too bad for Teddy,* Lyn's voice said in his mind.
There was no way they could surprise him from their present hiding place. Lyn's mind, tightly linked with his, agreed with that. They would have to devise some diversion -- something to distract the guy. He glanced around, searching, and a small pile of stones above Dupres' head caught his eye. He relayed his intention to Lyn, warning her to be ready, and concentrated on the stones.
The bottom one moved and the entire pile gave way, raining down on the man beneath, but Dupres did not react as expected. Instead he twisted sideways, lithe as a cat, the blaster instantly in his hand. Alan and Lyn faded back behind their concealment.
Incredibly, Dupres caught the movement and his blaster spat. Rock fused and warped not ten centimeters from Alan's eyes.
*Back!* Alan sent the mental command at Lyn and felt her obey instantly. Dupres was coming toward them, tense and alert, blaster gripped tightly in both hands. Alan knew they couldn't elude him. The corridor was long here and perfectly straight. He would pick them off as his son had picked off the animal images on his video games.
The beam spat, singing his arm as he dove behind a projecting rock in the cave wall. Lyn crouched beside him, her small body pressed against him. They heard the soft scrape of Dupres' foot in the corridor, then his voice, sounding bewildered. "Who are you? What do you want?"
Alan remained silent, thinking frantically. Just come a little closer, buddy, and Lyn'll set your pants on fire. C'mon, just a little --
The footsteps had paused, and now the voice spoke again, quavering slightly. "It's the Underground agents isn't it? Please...don't hurt me." Terror radiated from the man. "Here's my blaster. You can have it. Please, don't kill me. I surrender."
Lyn's mind was tightly linked to Alan's. The man's fear of them was genuine, and the words radiated truth. "Please, believe me! I want out of this business. I want to defect ...." The last word caught on a very convincing sob.
"Toss the blaster over here," Alan commanded, not showing his face. "If you mean what you say, toss it over."
The blaster clattered to the stones three meters from them. Alan and Lyn reached for it simultaneously with telekinesis and it skidded toward them.
"Please! Please come out!" Dupres begged. "I surrender! The Jils'll kill me when they realize how I've muffed this mission!"
Alan picked up the blaster, aware instantly of the fact that the power cell had been removed.
"I took the cell out." The man's voice shook. "I know what Undergrounders do to psychic hunters. For God's sake, believe me! I want to defect, but if you won't take me, I want to escape alive!"
Lyn's mind touched Alan's. *Is it possible he means it?*
*Maybe, but I'm not willing to risk capture for it. He has another blaster inside his boot.*
*Let's see if he'll give it to us.* Lyn raised her voice. "Mr. Dupres, if you mean it, toss out your other blaster!"
There was a faint hesitation. Then: "All right, but I'm taking out the cell."
"Leave the cell in."
"You'll kill me. I'm a psychic hunter."
"Then that fate awaits you anyway if you join the Underground, doesn't it?" Alan raised his voice at the same time groping for the man's mind, seeking to pierce those invisible defenses. It was impossible. Maybe with Mark or Kevin he could have done it, but not alone. And the small blaster wedged tightly into the man's boot top was equally beyond his power.
He sensed a struggle in Dupres mind -- or was it just the selective shielding? He couldn't tell! Then, "All right." He sensed the fellow's mind as he drew the blaster from the boot top, hesitated, and tossed toward them. It landed on the stones and slid instantly across to Alan. The energy cell was still in it.
Something was wrong. Alan knew it, but somehow couldn't put his finger on it. Lyn moved uneasily beside him. *What is it? What'll we do?*
*I don't know. He seems sincere but I don't trust him. You stay down.* Slowly Alan stepped out from behind the rock, the blaster gripped before him, and mentally scanning the figure of Dupres. The man was on his knees, both arms extended imploringly. He radiated terror and desperation.
"Lie down on your face," Alan commanded. "Arms above you. One false move and I'll kill you."
"I know." Again the word caught on a sob. Alan took a step forward and stopped. All his senses told him that something was wrong -- that, in spite of his submissive appearance, Dupres was still very much a danger. The man was lowering himself face down, half sobbing with terror.
"Lower your shielding!" Lyn's voice commanded from behind the rock. "If you mean what you say, then let us see our whole mind -- not just your selective shielding."
The man's mind wavered. "You'll kill me!"
"I'll kill you if you don't!" Alan said. "Put 'em down! Quick!"
He felt the flash of warning even before he saw Dupres twist around lithe as an eel, reaching for his shirt pocket. Alan pressed the firing stud on the blaster. Nothing happened. Then Dupres' hand was out, gripping a small stylus.
Alan leaped sideways behind his former hiding place as the weapon spat yellow mist. He felt it graze his cheek with fire as he reached the concealment and scrambled behind it. Dupres was moving, running for the crawler and punching something on his wrist. The hood of the machine slid silently open. He reached inside and withdrew another blaster.
Alan quickly examined the weapon he held. It should work -- except for one thing. The electrical current coil between the firing stud and the power cell was missing. They had Dupres' other blaster too, but unfortunately it was of a different size and the cells were not interchangeable.
Dupres fired at the rock. "Come out," he ordered, all the former subservience and fear gone from his voice. It was cold now and hard, allowing no nonsense. "If you don't, I'll set this thing on max and sweep the tunnel. I won't get close enough to risk your using your abilities on me. I know who you are, Westover and Parnell. Come on, out! Quick! I give you to the count of three! One, two --"
From behind Dupres a blaster spoke. With clairvoyance Alan felt the energy beam, and the scorching heat. Dupres screamed, clutching one shoulder, and staggered away toward a corridor to his left. Their unknown rescuer fired again and there was another scream. The blaster clattered away. Stumbling footsteps sounded for a moment, then faded.
Lyn's hand clutched Alan's. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I think so. Now who the heck --"
Miss Pick appeared around the corner of their hiding place, holding the blaster before her as though it might bite her. Her face was pale in the dim light, her eyes wide and dilated. Her drab hair straggled over her neck and she was filthy with rock dust. Alan decided he had never seen such a beautiful sight in his whole life.
"Miss Pick!"
"Here, take it!" She practically thrust the weapon at him. He took it, sliding it into his belt, one eye on the opening through which Dupres had disappeared. Lyn went past him to pick up the blaster the agent had dropped.
"Should I go after him, Alan?"
Alan considered. "Guess you'd better. I'll come with you."
"You stay put!" Lyn vanished into the corridor in pursuit of Dupres.
Miss Pick leaned against the rock wall, her small, dumpy shape in its ill fitting parka still trembling slightly. He put an arm around her, beginning to shake, himself, now, with reaction. "Thanks," he managed. "You saved our lives."
She gave him a weak grin. "First time I've ever fired a blaster in my life."
"Really?"
"Pretty obvious, I guess." She laughed a bit hysterically. "He was hardly two meters away and I still nearly missed him."
"You got him both times!"
"I grazed his shoulder the first time, and his butt when he ran." She shuddered, disengaged herself from Alan's embrace, and went over to the crawler. Alan went with her and looked down at the unconscious forms of the two girls.
"Well, they don't seem hurt."
"Thank goodness." The governess bent over them. "Megan? Maggie?"
"Drugged," Alan said. "He wouldn't take chances." He turned as Lyn re-entered the hall.
"He's gone," she told them. "Out into the blizzard. Maybe he'll freeze to death."
"If we're lucky." Alan drew a deep breath and grinned at his wife.
She gasped. "Oh, Alan! Your face is all blistered! What was that stuff he shot at you?"
"An aerosol of some kind, highly irritating. I'd have been incapacitated if he'd got me full in the face. Man, it still hurts."
"How's your shoulder?"
Alan glanced down at his left arm. "I think it's okay."
The material of his parka was blackened over the spot where the blaster beam had struck, and there was a ten-centimeter hole burned away showing the blue of his sweater beneath.
"Doesn't look like it went through," Lyn said in relief.
"Lucky for me," Alan commented. "Look, let's get out of here."
They climbed into the crawler, the governess taking the rear with her two small charges. "I think I'll ask for a raise when I get back to Osterlak," she commented. "Watching out for these two is beginning to qualify as a high stress job."
Alan found himself laughing in relief. "I don't think it'll be necessary," he told the woman. "These two young ladies have been targeted by the Jils. They're going to have to join the Underground. And you probably should, too, Miss Pick."
"I suppose." She looked worried. "Since the Jils know they're psychics now, I guess there isn't much choice."
They emerged from the cave and into the blinding snow. Alan scanned carefully, but could pick up no trace of Dupres' mind. The guy would have his shields up tight, of course, since he knew he was dealing with powerful Terran psychics. Where would he go? He might go back toward the lodge, perhaps to try to engage an emergency crawler to take him to civilization. On the other hand, he might very well be afraid that Alan and Lyn would go after him, since he was a psychic hunter. And the Jils certainly wouldn't like the fact that he had botched his assignment so spectacularly. He might find it more expedient to simply disappear.
In any case, with Teddy Dupres aware of Lyn's psychic abilities, it would probably be safer if he and Lyn didn't go back at all. Alan turned the crawler downhill. They would make for Trachem's nearest Underground station, he decided, and call for help. Maybe they could arrange to pick up their belongings later, somehow.
"So," Lyn said, "you know about Megan and Maggie?"
"Oh yes." Miss Pick spoke unconcernedly. "In fact, that's why I accepted the position. I like psychics. I'm used to them."
"How did you know they were psychics, though?" Lyn asked in astonishment. "You aren't a psychic, yourself, are you?"
"Me? Oh my, no. I wish I was. I'd probably fit in better." She hesitated and then shrugged. "I come from a family of psychics. My mother and father are both psychics, and so are all my brothers and sisters -- all seven of them. I'm the only non in the group."
"Oh my!" Lyn stared at the woman with pity. "You must have had a terrible childhood! Where were you in the birth order?"
Miss Pick smiled. "Oh, it wasn't so bad. I was second to the youngest, and when I was about six my older sister taught me how to shield. After that I could keep up with them better. I learned to shield very well, and since by my teen years I was as big or bigger than the rest of them, and as strong as most, I had a good time. I could even compete with the boys."
"I guess that explains that great shielding of yours," Alan said. "Lyn and I were wondering if you were an Undergrounder, except it didn't fit the facts -- unshielded psychics with you, that is. We couldn't figure it out. Were any of the kids in your family ever spotted by the Jils?"
Miss Pick shook her head. "They all know what they are, and are very careful."
"Do you suppose any of them would want to join?"
"I don't know." Miss Pick considered. "I could ask. Most of them are married and have kids of their own. Anyway, growing up in a family like that, I got good at recognizing psychics. I knew Maggie and Megan's former governess, Pat Souza, and through her I met the girls. It took me about twenty minutes to figure out what they were. Then Pat told me she was going to quit -- that the kids were just too much for her, and I asked her to recommend me to the parents." She smiled. "I suppose it's like kids raised by wolves. You tend to seek out the kind of people you're used to."
"You aren't alone," Alan told her. "Marty Wilkins is the same way. He's one of ten children and the only non-psychic in the bunch. He married a psychic lady at the base -- a lady who already had three psychic kids. He gets along great with all of 'em. He understands psychics -- and he should."
"How does that happen, anyway?" Miss Pick asked. "I used to wonder if I was adopted, except when I got older I could see how much I resemble my father."
"You mean, one non-psychic in a family of psychics?" Alan said. "It's very simple, really -- rather like the eye color trait. You know, don't you, that two brown-eyed parents can produce a blue-eyed child?"
"Can they?"
"Yes, because the blue-eyed gene is recessive. Both parents may carry it, but it doesn't show up because they also carry a brown-eyed trait, and the brown-eyed trait is dominant. If you carry it, then your eyes are brown, and any child the couple produces who gets even one brown-eyed gene from the couple will have brown eyes. But the blue-eyed genes are still there, very present, but hidden behind the brown eyes. Each time a child is conceived it receives one gene at random from each parent. If, out of that random shuffle, the child receives both hidden blue-eyed genes, he will have blue eyes.
"So the psychic trait is also dominant. Each of your parents, Miss Pick, carry a psychic and a non-psychic pair of genes. Psychic is dominant, so they're both psychics. But should the non-psychic pairs come together, a non-psychic child will result. It's a one in four chance with each baby."
"What happens if the child gets both psychic traits? That's a one in four chance, too."
"He'll be a psychic, of course," Lyn said. "And probably a very powerful one. We're pretty sure that's what happened with Alan -- that both of his parents were psychics, and he got a double dose."
"Oh, really?"
"We don't know. Both his parents were killed, most likely by the Jilectans, before he even knew what he was. But he and his sister are both psychics, and he married a psychic. Like you, Miss Pick, we tend to be drawn to the kind of people we're used to."
There was more to it than that, but Alan didn't elaborate. He stared out into the whirling blizzard, wishing mightily for a cup of coffee.
"I guess our honeymoon is kind of shot, isn't it," Lyn said.
He put an arm around her. "Shot? It's only beginning, my love."
Epilogue
Luna City sparkled with lights and people, but Alan and Lyn strolled hand in hand through the crowded boulevards.
After delivering Miss Pick and her young charges to the Underground base and giving their report, they had caught the first ship to Luna City, the fantastic resort paradise on Terra's natural satellite. Their time here had been unmarred by any Jil agents or unshielded psychic teenagers. They had enjoyed themselves thoroughly.
Lyn leaned against him, smiling. "Remember what you said back on Trachum about waiting a little before starting a family?"
"I know. It's too late."
She squeezed his arm. "I think it was that little encounter after the skiing. I sort of forgot the control patch that time."
"So did I."
"Oh well." She laughed. "I guess I can't criticize Mark and Julia anymore. We were in love and careless, too."
"Yeah, but we at least waited until the honeymoon."
She shrugged. "Boy or girl, Alan?"
"I'm not sure. All it is is a little tadpole so far."
"Let me know as soon as you figure it out." She glanced up at the sign sparkling against the dark sky beyond. A glowing pyramid of multicolor lights announced "The Rainbow Nebula Casino." "What do you think? We haven't gambled at all so far, and this is our last night. Shall we?"
"It isn't really fair," Alan said.
"Life usually isn't."
"I don't like to cheat."
"It isn't cheating."
"But we can predict the outcome," Alan said. "That's cheating in itself."
"By whose definition?"
"Lyn! I'm shocked!"
"Oh, come on, Alan!" She pulled at his arm. "You can lose if it eases your conscience, but I want to be able to say I went to at least one casino while we were in Luna City!"
He gave in. They entered through the swinging stained glass doors to be greeted by the jingle of slot machines and the click of dice. Alan glanced around as a tall, very attractive woman, clad in a scanty rainbow hued costume, paused beside them. "Complimentary drink, sir?"
He selected a glass of white wine, trying not to look at her neckline, which was nearly on a level with his face. He felt Lyn quiver with silent laughter beside him.
"Hazardous place," he remarked as the woman moved gracefully away through the throng. "Well, my love, what's your pleasure? Roulette? Craps? Slot machines?"
Lyn chose Roulette and they squeezed next to one of the crowded tables, placing bets. Alan tried not to use his psychic abilities, closing his shields firmly before placing two chips on 18. The croupier spun the wheel and the little ball dropped into its slot, whirling in the opposite direction. Lyn clutched his arm in anticipation. There was a certain pleasure, he had to admit, in the excitement of the place. The lady on his other side, a stout, gaudily clad woman, leaned forward, breathing hard. The ball clicked decisively into number eighteen.
"Eighteen wins!" Alan watched the croupier push chips across the table toward him. The stout woman muttered something under her breath and departed. Another form instantly took her place.
Alan hardly noticed. He glanced uncertainly at Lyn. His wife's eyes were sparkling with pleasure as she placed half a dozen of their newly won chips on fourteen. He lowered his shields and spoke to her telepathically. *You know, if we win too much people might get suspicious.*
*So might that Arcturian beside you if you keep your shields down.*
Alan snapped his shields shut and turned to look at the Ceregon native who had replaced the Terran woman. The roulette wheel spun.
The Arcturian was a tall, well-made member of the species, more than a head taller than Alan and gaudily clad -- the dress of a member of the upper class. Alan wasn't sure he could ever feel the same about the species again, after his experience with Ginnar and Gonnar, and inadvertently he scrunched away from the being.
The Arcturian's head turned and the golden green eyes met his. The wheel slowed and the ball clicked into its slot.
"Fourteen wins," the croupier announced.
Alan hardly noticed. The Arcturian was still looking at him, his crest erect, and he could see two fangs below the alien's muzzle gleaming faintly in the subdued lighting
Had the creature sensed him? With extreme caution, Alan barely cracked his shielding and extended his probe toward the Arcturian.
For one of his species, Shavannir was an easy read. Alan sensed his thoughts with only a moderate amount of effort, and felt himself relax. Shavannir had indeed sensed the psychic beside him -- he was very sensitive to Terran psychics, but he had never turned one in, nor did he ever intend to. Like most of his species, Shavannir hated the Jils and would do nothing to help them. And besides, Shavannir liked Terran psychics. They were kind, sensitive little beings and most of them sympathized with the Arcturian's persecution under Jilectan rule.
Alan relaxed and let his shields part. The Arcturian had turned back to the roulette wheel, apparently losing interest in the Terran beside him. Lyn was fingering her chips and getting ready to bet again. Alan took them from her, speaking telepathically. "Let's not be too obvious, dear.* He placed the chips on the odd number space.
Shavannir's green scaled hand moved over to place a stack of chips on odds, as well. Startled, Alan looked up to meet the alien's yellow eyes. The Arcturian's jaws split briefly in a grin. The wheel spun.
"Eleven wins," the croupier announced.
Alan received his winnings, and watched the Arcturian receive his. Lyn placed half a dozen chips on red. So did Shavannir. The wheel spun.
The Arcturian leaned down and his sibilant voice spoke softly beside Alan's ear. "Perhapss later I could treat you to dinner, Terran?"
Alan swallowed. "Uh --"
Lyn leaned across, placing her small hand on Shavannir's scaled one. "That would be lovely, Shavannir."
Alan gave her a mental nudge, too late. The Arcturian's eyes opened wider for an instant, then narrowed. Lyn went pale and began to stammer something, but Shavannir's grin reappeared almost instantly.
"After we are finished playing, of coursse?"
"Of course," Alan said quickly. He placed a stack of chips on evens. The Arcturian did the same.
They won again. So much for not using their powers, Alan thought. He collected their winnings, feeling conspicuous. A pretty waitress appeared beside him, offering him another complimentary drink. He took one and spoke to Shavannir in an undertone. "My luck probably won't hold next time, Shavannir."
"Really?"
He placed two chips on twenty-five. "Just a hunch."
Shavannir placed four chips on red. "Very well."
The wheel spun and the little ball whirled.
"Twenty-four wins," the croupier announced.
Alan watched his winnings disappear with a sense of disappointment. He had known he would lose, of course, but felt for one keen instant the thrill of challenge.
Lyn spoke softly. "I think our luck's turned, Alan. Let's go."
"Oh. All right."
As they moved inconspicuously from the table, pocketing their winnings, he heard Lyn whisper softly to Shavannir. "Bet double zero this time."
"I zank you, Misss," the Arcturian replied. "Perhapss I will ssee you at 2200 in zee Rainbow Lounshe?"
"We'd love to."
Behind them the wheel spun.
*My good deed for the day,* Lyn's voice said in his mind. *Was I wrong?*
*I don't know. I guess not. I liked him.*
*So did I. Sorry about -- what I did. He must know we're Undergrounders.*
*I would say so.*
*Oh shut up! You're the one who let him catch on that we're psychics!*
*I know. You know, I wonder how many psychics frequent these places?*
He felt Lyn scanning, and quickly did the same. Her voice spoke in his mind again. *I'm picking up at least five right here in this room. There's one right over there.*
Alan had already detected the individual -- a tiny, elderly woman clad in an expensive evening dress, her silver hair glittering with jewels. An Arcturian stood beside her at the roulette table, emulating her moves.
*I'll be darned,* Alan said softly. *It seems the Fish have figured out a not quite honest way to make a credit using Terran psychics.*
Lyn laughed. *I guess they figure they aren't cheating. After all, the Terran isn't being quite honest, either.*
Alan scanned the lady briefly. *But she doesn't know what she's doing! He does!*
Lyn hooked an arm in his. "Alan," she said tolerantly, "has anyone ever told you you're too honest for your own good?"
"Mark and Kev have -- lots of times."
"Well, they're right. How about playing the slots with me now? You can lose if it makes you feel better, and a machine can't get suspicious."
Alan hesitated. "Oh well, maybe just this once." He moved over to one of the machines.
An Arcturian appeared beside him. "Greetingss, Terran."
"Uh, hello."
"Iss ziss zee mashine you have sselected?"
"Yes."
"Do you mind if I use it firsst?" The Arcturian inserted a chip and pulled the lever. The columns spun for an instant, then lined up neatly. Half a dozen coins dropped into the slot.
The Arcturian collected them. "Zank you, Terran." White teeth flashed in a hair-raising grin and the Ceregon native moved away into the throng. Beside him he felt Lyn laughing.
The End
