Mind Link: 7/8 (Or: How's *That* for a Side effect?)
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
14
Alan knelt in the front seat of the aircar, the blaster pointed at the two patrolmen. They had recovered from the stunbolts and were sitting resignedly in the seat, watching him. Mark glanced at him.
"Feelin' better?" he asked.
"Yeah," Alan said. He glanced sideways for an instant. "Don't feel so bad. If you'd been there, you'd have been caught, too."
"I know," Mark said. He frowned darkly. "I still felt like hell. I thoughtcha were dead."
"Must have been bad," Alan said.
"Yeah," Linley said. "What the hell happened, anyway?"
"I'll tell you later," Alan said. He glanced meaningfully at the patrolmen in the back seat.
"Stun 'em," Mark suggested.
The sergeant gave a groan. "Don't kid -- I mean, Mr. Westover. Please."
Alan shook his head. "Can it wait? I hate to stun them again."
Mark snorted. "Sure."
"You're all heart," the sergeant said with real gratitude. His subordinate gave a faint sigh of relief.
Linley guided the car up over the edge of the cliff and into a narrow, neighboring valley, settling it into a mass of evergreens. Bronson concealed the other car under an overhanging spur of rock, crowded closely about by enormous evergreen trees and got out. He made his way over to their aircar and got into the front seat next to Alan, wrinkling his nose as he did so. "Smells like somebody lost his lunch in here," he remarked.
Nobody commented. Alan scooted over in the seat to make room for him. Bronson slammed the door and then reached out to turn the car's ventilation system on high. He glanced at Mark and laughed. "You look like you've been through a dozen interrogations, big brother."
"Wish I had been," Linley said darkly. "Man, what a hellish day I had!"
"I'll bet." Kevin glanced at the two patrolmen. "What are we gonna do with them?"
"I dunno," Mark said. "What do you want to do, Colonel Westover?"
Alan thought a moment. "We should check out why all those aircars were heading north along the canyon."
"Yeah," Mark agreed. "I was thinkin' the same thing." He turned to look at the two prisoners. "Do you fellas know?"
The sergeant shook his head. "We were huntin' for you guys. We don't know nothin' about no aircars."
Alan raised his eyebrows. "You're from Shallock, aren't you?"
The sergeant nodded, wincing a little. "Man, whatta head!"
"Heard any rumors?" Linley asked, glancing back again.
"No, nothin'. We just got here today from Joten --" His voice trailed off. "*You're* Linley, ain'tcha?"
"That's right," Mark said.
The sergeant turned to look at Bronson. "Then who the hell's *he*?"
Kevin turned in the seat to look at the man, raising an eyebrow as he did so. Mark also raised an eyebrow. "Him? That's just my baby brother. You remember Subcommander Bronson, don'tcha?"
"Holy hell, yes!" Unexpectedly the sergeant laughed. "The Crazy Subcommander! I was watchin' it on the 'Nova'," he added. "I couldn't believe what I was seein'. Nobody could. The whole ship cheered when you told His Lordship where to shove that damned helmet! Made me proud t'be from Shallock."
The other patrolman spoke. "What are you going to do with us?"
Kevin glanced at Alan. "Well, Colonel?"
"Let's take them somewhere that it'll be a while before they can get back and report to anybody," Alan said. He glanced at the patrolmen. "Sorry. It can't be helped."
The sergeant shrugged. "Just so long as you don't stun us again."
They flew low across the valley as well as the plateau beyond. About twenty kilometers farther on, they came to another deep valley. Mark dropped the aircar into it and looked back again. "All right, guys. Out."
"Hold it a sec," Bronson said. "I'm gonna need your uniform, Sarge."
The man looked appalled. "Aw c'mon, Subcommander; it's cold up here."
"You can have my clothes," Bronson said. "You won't freeze." He got out next to the man and Alan climbed out after him, covering both men as Bronson removed the restrainers. "Strip, Sarge."
The sergeant obeyed and Bronson removed his clothing as well. He pulled on the man's uniform, regarding himself critically. "Not a bad fit."
The patrolman was buttoning Kevin's shirt. "Don'tcha have a coat, sir?"
Bronson shook his head. "We hadta split our blanket to keep warm. The guy that decided to turn us in for the reward was in too much of a hurry t'let us get our capes. You can have the car's emergency kit, though. It's got blankets in it. If you light a fire, chances are that somebody'll see it in a few hours and pick you up."
The sergeant sighed. "All right. Guess it could be worse."
"Here's the kit." Mark tossed it out the window. "Don't waste your time lookin' for signal flares. I already took 'em out."
The other patrolman was looking scared. "We could die before somebody finds us!"
Kevin turned to get back into the car after Alan. "Not likely. Even the dinosaurs are scared of fire. Good luck, guys."
**********
"Okay," Mark said, after they were safely airborne once more, "now that we're ridda them, what happened to the link?"
Alan explained about the drug. Mark listened in silence and then swore. "Those 'trols coulda been lyin', then."
"I don't think they were," Alan said. "They were scared of me and nobody tries lying to a telepath, if they know anything about them."
"I guess not," Mark said. "Well, I guess the best thing to do is go check it out for ourselves. Those aircars were headin' north -- all of 'em. It went on 'til way after dark and started up again early."
"You noticed that too, huh?" Alan said.
"Yeah. It was kinda hard t'miss."
"We could pretend t'be just another scout and ask a few innocent questions," Kevin said. "Somebody might let somethin' slip."
"Maybe," Mark said. "I dunno. If somethin's brewin' up here, you can bet they don't want the peons t'know about it. There's always the chance that an Undergrounder'll get wind of it an' throw a spanner in the works." He ran a thumb across the blond stubble on his chin. "We'll give it a shot an' see what we turn up." He glanced at his companions. "Nice shot, gettin' the dinosaur, Kev. Even if it did get you spotted by the 'trols."
Bronson reached down to pick up the remaining blaster from the floor of the aircar. When he straightened up again, he was looking embarrassed. "Alan did it."
"Oh? How come he had the blaster, 'stead o' you?"
Alan said nothing. Kevin glanced at him and snorted suddenly. "So much for me braggin' about winnin' that damned Nova Cluster. The critter charged us and I winged it just enough to make it good an' mad, and then fell over a rock an' threw the blaster away. Alan caught it right outta the air an' blasted the beastie."
Mark shook his head. "Sounds sorta like a replay o' what happened to me the first time Alan an' me ran into one of 'em."
"Oh yeah?" Kevin perked up. "Don't tell me you fell down, too?"
"Yeah," Mark said. "It was right after I arrested him." He glanced at Alan. "Am I embarrassin' you, kiddo?"
"Sort of," Alan said, uncomfortably.
"So what happened?" Kevin asked. "I ain't heard this before."
"I was lettin' him have somethin' to eat before we started back," Mark said. "This big critter comes thunderin' outta the brush and the guy with me got crunched. I shot it and winged it just like you did -- just enough to make it mad. Naturally, it charged me and I tried to jump back. Fell over somethin' an' landed on my backside -- *and* dropped the blaster, o' course. Alan grabbed it and fried the beastie. Got clipped as it fell an' landed on top of me *and* twisted his ankle -- same one he broke back on Parquola. That shook him up and I got it back again without any trouble. I felt like a first class heel, though."
"Cut it out, Mark," Alan said unhappily.
Kevin grinned. "That makes me feel better," he said. He leaned back in the seat. "Man, it's good to be warm again."
"That's for sure," Alan said.
The aircar dropped down into the enormous canyon again. Mark pointed. "There's the river. Shall we head north an' see what we can see?"
They proceeded north. Looking at the walls, Alan was reminded of a trip his family had taken to Earth's Grand Canyon. The colored strata of the rock walls were spectacular, even with the curtain of falling snow. Looking at it now, he failed to see how he and Kevin had managed to descend the almost sheer rock walls.
The com beeped. Bronson picked up the sergeant's helmet, glanced at the name above the visor and pressed the transmit control. "Sergeant Redmond here."
"Redmond? You with us or the search parties?"
"Both, sort of," Bronson replied vaguely. "They told us to keep an eye out on the way. What's happenin'?"
"Nothin', far as I know." The other man's voice sounded tired and disgusted. "I don't think they survived the crash. Everything was burned to a crisp."
"Yeah. That's what I heard," Bronson agreed. "Any word from Jotenheim?"
Another disgusted snort. "Yeah. They identified the body. It was some guy named Adam Zook or something like that. They found a big long knife sticking in his ribs, too."
Mark turned to look at Alan. Bronson grinned faintly. "That so?"
"Yeah. They figure he was on his way to the base for something but his plans didn't work out. Somebody put his lights out and headed home in the lifeboat. His Lordship's really burned up about it. Him and his three brats showed up about two hours ago and they're probably putting the Commander through the wringer. Lord Volanthvor was a kinsman of his, you know."
Kevin turned to look at Mark and his lips formed the words, "Lord Volanthvor?"
Mark covered the transmitter with one hand. "Jil that was killed when the planet hopper crashed into the dome."
Kevin and Alan looked at each other. "Well, we're keepin' our eyes peeled," Kevin told the other man, "but so far we ain't seen nothin'."
"Okay. Carry on." The com went silent.
Mark was the first to speak. "I don't think I got the whole story," he observed at last. "What happened to Zuccherman?"
Kevin gave him a short description of the events on the planet hopper. Mark was silent for a moment and then whistled softly.
"Aircar on the scanner," Bronson said suddenly. "It's headin' north. Maybe we should follow it and see where it goes."
"Good idea." Linley turned the car after it. "Kev, you put on the sarge's helmet, an' Alan, you put on the other one." He accepted the third helmet and set it in place one-handed. "Here we go."
Alan put on the helmet that Kevin handed him. It was, naturally, too large for him and the visor came down to his lower lip. He pushed it up on his head, tilting it back as he did so. Kevin laughed and Alan made a face at him.
They could see the dark shape of the aircar ahead of them, scarcely visible through the snow, and Mark followed at a leisurely pace. They rounded a bend in the canyon wall and suddenly a majestic waterfall was visible some distance ahead. The aircar ahead of them did not slacken its pace but veered to the left, heading for a blank section of the rock wall. As it reached the wall a camouflaged door rolled open in the cliffside and the car ahead of them went through. Mark followed.
15
Alan tried to look in all directions at once. They had entered an enormous limestone cavern. It was brilliantly lighted by strings of artificial lighting high overhead and here and there uniformed men moved about, operating machinery, or loading boxes on transports. Aircars moved this way and that, apparently carrying more supplies. The place buzzed with activity.
"Oh man!" Kevin muttered. "What the hell's goin' on here?"
Mark pursed his lips. "Our bosses would sure be interested in this!"
Alan didn't speak. He was feeling oddly dizzy. The sensation had been building over the last few minutes and was rapidly becoming more intense. He felt sudden heat flood his face and neck and then creep over his whole body. Mark was saying something but he was no longer listening. His head felt light, as though it was floating from his shoulders. The hot flush subsided, only to return a moment later.
"I'm settin' her down here," Mark said.
Alan shook his head sharply and the helmet swiveled loosely to one side. He straightened it and looked around.
Mark had flown the car over the scene of activity and found an empty pocket next to a deserted area of the cavern. The aircar settled to the ground.
"Okay," Mark said. "You stay here with the car, Alan. Kev an' me are gonna go scout."
Alan nodded. Apprehension pulled at him and heat flooded his face and neck again. "Be careful," he said.
Mark turned to look at him. Alan couldn't see his face but there was a sudden feeling within him, the sensation of something in him reaching outward. The hot flush intensified and he felt sweat begin to drip from his chin.
Mark frowned. "What's happenin?" he asked.
Alan shook his head. "I'm not sure. I feel a little funny. Go ahead, but watch your step."
Linley was silent for a long moment. "Somethin's happenin'," he said. "I'm feelin' sorta strange, m'self."
"So'm I," Kevin said. "Could be the drug's wearin' off."
"Maybe." The hot flush was subsiding once more. "I'm not sure what it is."
"We'll be careful," Mark told him. "We'll just take a quick look around and be back in a few minutes."
"Sure." Alan watched as the two big men got out of the car and moved away across the cavern.
Alan sat still. He was feeling light-headed again and his face dripped with sweat. Another hot flush spread over him.
A patrolman passed the spot where the car sat and Alan glanced over at him. The vision of a pink-limbed, unclothed woman materialized suddenly before his eyes.
Good grief! He had read the man's mind! His powers *were* returning -- erratic and uncontrollable as yet, but returning!
Another patrolman passed and Alan looked after him. The guy was wishing desperately for a cigarette. The need became clear before Alan was aware that he had exerted any energy at all. His psychic powers were back -- no doubt of that. Now all he had to do was regain control of them.
He tried to compress the button of the glove compartment with a finger of telekinetic energy. Nothing happened. Alan concentrated harder and his head began to spin. Still nothing.
He leaned back in the seat. Give it a little more time, he thought. Just a little more time. His psychic powers were coming back. He was blind no longer.
It was a wonderful sensation.
He hadn't realized how much time had passed until Kevin was suddenly beside him again, grinning broadly. He slid into the car and clapped Alan heartily on the shoulder. "The link's back! I can feel it! The damn drug's wearin' off!"
Alan grinned back. "I know. I can't control the powers yet but they're there, all right. I feel great!"
"I'll bet!"
"Where's Mark?"
"He'll be back in a few minutes. We separated and scouted around a bit. This is a supply depot. Looks like the Jils have taken a fancy to Midgard and are plannin' to move in, I'll betcha anythin'."
"Oh, terrific!"
"Yeah. And you know what that means."
Alan knew, all right. When the Jils moved in, Terran colonists moved out, permanently. The Jilectans would not share the good things of any planet with any of the inferior species and they had quick, efficient methods for disposing of them. The ending for the colonists would be extremely unpleasant if the project could not be stopped. By hook or crook, the Terran colonies would fail, and the Jils would move into the abandoned settlements. It had happened before.
"We've got to do something!"
"Yeah, I know. We gotta get word back to the boss. What th'hell's holdin' Mark up?"
Alan didn't answer. A premonition was sweeping over him. The sensation was incredible -- far more intense than anything he had experienced before losing his psychic abilities.
"Kevin!" he shouted.
"Shh!" Bronson clapped a hand over his mouth. "Holy hell, kid! You tryin' to attract attention?"
A picture was materializing in his mind. Mark's face. Linley was bleeding and there was a cut on his mouth. The scene broadened, expanded. Linley was on his knees, surrounded by patrolmen and over him towered the tall, blond form of a Jilectan.
"There's a Jil," Alan said hoarsely. "They've caught Mark and the Jil's reading him!" He reached forward and jabbed the button that opened the hood. "Quick! Get this thing started!"
Bronson jumped out and ran around to the front of the car. He leaned in and a few seconds later the engine roared. He slammed the hood and an instant later was in the car. The aircar shot forward.
"Where is he?" Bronson wanted to know.
"Straight ahead." The aircar raced forward at hair-raising speed, toward a long side passage. Alan was marginally aware of startled faces turning after them as the car shot across the cavern. He heard Bronson's indrawn breath as the craft brushed a stalactite. They entered the passage at insane speed. The car grazed the right hand wall, shearing off that sensor as well. Kevin swore sharply but Alan barely heard it as he guided the car forward at high velocity, dodging stalactites. They passed an underground lake, blazed down another short tunnel and saw before them a cavern, smaller than the one they had just left, and in the center of the area stood a ring of patrolmen, exactly as Alan had seen it in his mind, surrounding Mark Linley. A Jilectan stood before him and even from the aircar, Alan could see the smile on his lips. There was a sudden surge of psychic energy.
"He's reading Mark!"
A blaster shot bounced off the door of their aircar and Alan realized in a detached part of his mind that a number of patrolmen were shooting at them. Bronson drew his own blaster, trying uselessly to line up on the alien. He read the decision in Bronson's mind as he made it.
"No!" Alan said. "Mark'll be killed!"
"We got no choice!" Bronson's voice was agonized. "We gotta get ridda that Jil!"
"I'm going to dive at him," Alan said tightly. "See if you can wing him when I do."
"All right." Bronson agreed. "We got one shot and then I'll have to set it on overload."
Alan bit his lip. Somehow he *had* to get Mark away before it came to that. But how? There was no way to do it that he could see.
To one side of the scene, and at a safe distance, stood the Jilectan's three sons. They were slender and almost as tall as their father was. Grouped together, they were watching the prisoner and obviously conversing with each other. One of them threw back his head and laughed.
More shots zinged past the aircar. Alan straightened out suddenly and dived directly toward Lord Corianthzor.
The alien's head snapped around and he moved with the lightning reflexes of his species. He bent and grabbed Mark up, holding his prisoner before him like a shield. Mark's head drooped.
The patrolmen scattered, firing wildly at the aircar. A shot brushed the front left fender and the left rear window radiated cracks. Alan saw Kevin's jaw set. He fired and missed by a hair as the Jilectan dodged. Another shot from below hit the aircar.
Kevin flipped the blaster to emergency overload and hurled it as the car swooped downward. It spun in a gentle arc -- and at the same instant an invisible force wrenched Linley from Corianthzor's grasp. For an unbelievable second, he soared through the air straight toward the aircar. Alan was peripherally aware of the frozen scene below as patrolmen stared with gaping mouths at the impossible vision. Mark came headfirst through the window to land heavily in his brother's lap.
The blaster went over Corianthzor's head. Abruptly it swerved, changing direction in mid air. The weapon described a lazy spiral, entirely at odds with the laws of motion, skidded to a stop almost at the Jilectan's feet and exploded.
"Holy space!" Kevin blurted.
Amazed as he was at his own incredible strength, Alan was not too stunned to act. He brought the aircar around in a sweeping turn. Several blaster shots spat after them. They were hopelessly outnumbered and he knew that they could not hope to escape from the cavern alive...unless....
He glanced toward Corianthzor's three sons, standing in an appalled group to one side. The center one, the tallest of the three -- the one who had laughed at Mark, Alan thought -- would do nicely.
The Jilectan was jerked from his feet as Alan extended his sudden amazing telekinetic power. Corianthzor's son shot over the heads of the astounded patrolmen and landed with a bruising thump on the hood of the aircar. The vehicle gained altitude, tearing in rapid, dangerously tight circles around the cavern. The blaster shots stopped abruptly. Visored faces turned up, gaping at the unbelievable sight. Alan heard Bronson give a choked gasp as he swerved to miss an enormous stalactite directly in their path, never slowing his speed.
"The loudspeaker!" Alan shouted. "Tell them we're leaving and to open the door for us! Tell them if they don't, we'll crash right into the wall and the Jil's son gets it too! Tell them!"
Bronson pushed his dazed brother off his lap and grabbed the microphone, pressing the activation button with his thumb.
"Attention attention!" His voice boomed out, echoing around the walls of the limestone cavern. "This is Subcommander Bronson! Alan Westover an' me are gettin' tired o' this party an' we're leavin'." The aircar continued to trace mad circles around the cavern, the Jilectan still clinging tightly to the hood. "Open the door for us. If you don't we'll crash right into the wall and the Jil's pup goes with us!"
Before the last echo had died, the aircar was speeding out of the cavern. No blaster shots followed them. They raced at breathtaking speed down the tunnels, emerged into the larger cavern and shot at terrifying velocity across the open space. Alan could hear the thin scream of the Jilectan who clung tightly to the hood, both hands gripping the frame of the car hard enough to leave imprints in the metal.
Abruptly a loudspeaker boomed.
"This is Lord Lorianthzor! Open the outer doors immediately!"
The door rolled open as they approached and the aircar tore recklessly through the opening in the wall into the whirling snowflakes without.
**********
tbc
