Copyright statement: This is an original work by the authors. Any resemblance to any person, living, dead or fictional, is unintentional and coincidental. The writers retain all rights to this work, and the copyright may not be infringed.
This is part of the Terran Underground Series.
Blind Mission: 1/?
By Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
1
Alan Westover sat up on his bunk, his heart pounding hard in his chest and a shout of panic half-choked in his throat. For a second he looked wildly around, unable to identify his surroundings.
The room was dark, only faint starlight from the partially open window lending any illumination to the scene. The breeze was cool, fluttering the curtains, but his skin was dripping with sweat.
"What th --" Two meters away, Mark Linley pushed himself to a sitting position, his big form vague in the dimness. He reached out a hand and the small lamp on his nightstand blazed on. Alan squinted, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the light.
"Man!" Mark rubbed his face with both hands and scratched his scalp vigorously, making his blond curls stand on end. "I just had one helluva nightmare!"
"You too?" Alan took a deep breath, trying to steady his jumping nerves. The details of the dream were fading but the feeling of alarm remained. His heart still pounded uncomfortably.
Mark glanced suddenly over at him. "You're still linked with me. Did it scare you that bad?"
"I guess so." Alan pushed back the blankets and swung his feet to the floor. His hands were shaking. The cool breeze on his sweat-drenched skin chilled him and he reached for his robe, pulling it on. He ran his hands through his tousled curls.
"What'd you dream, anyway?" Mark asked, looking at him quizzically.
"I can't remember," Alan said, a little shamefacedly. "Something about Eric, I think. Sure scared me half to death, though."
Mark stood up, stepping over his slippers, and stretched, his fists coming within five centimeters of the ceiling. "I'm gonna get some water. You want some?"
"Thanks." Alan wiped the sleeve of his robe across his dripping face, noting with annoyance that his hands were still trembling. Mark padded by him to the bathroom and Alan heard him turn on the water. A moment later he was back, setting a glass on the nightstand. Linley sat down beside him and the bunk groaned under his weight.
"Y'know," he said, "I dreamed about him too. Funny, huh?"
Alan took the glass and gulped down the water. Anxiety coursed along his nerves. Mark was looking at him, puzzled and a little concerned.
"Man, you really look shook up," he said. "You're *still* linked with me, too. I think you gave me *your* nightmare."
Alan grinned a little nervously. "Sorry about that." He set the glass back on the table. It rattled as he set it down.
Mark frowned. "Are you okay? I ain't never seen you this shook up over a dream before."
"I think I'm going to take a walk." Alan slid his feet to the floor, groping for his slippers. "I'm still too jumpy to go back to sleep."
Mark got up. "I'm goin' with you."
"You don't have to. No need for me to ruin your night's sleep."
Linley reached for his robe and slippers. "Forget it. The way you're linked with me, I wouldn't get any sleep anyhow."
"Sorry," Alan said contritely. "I can't help it."
Mark pushed his feet into his slippers without answering and followed Alan to the door, knotting the tie of his robe. He reached past his partner to snap off the locking switch and the door slid silently open.
The hall was quiet and dimly lighted. They stepped out into it, their slippers making soft scraping sounds on the bare floor. Alan hesitated and then headed for the main entrance with Mark a little behind him. The feeling of jumpiness was increasing again. His heart was pounding suffocatingly in his chest and his mouth was dry. Nervousness washed over him in waves and chills ran up his spine and over his scalp. His neck prickled. At the entrance he paused, trying to get a grip on himself. He knew the sensation. It was precognition. Danger was in the air but the danger wasn't directed at him. Someone he knew well, someone close to him was threatened.
Again, the dream returned. Eric Vogleman had been in trouble -- Eric, his young psychic friend who had rescued him and Mark from the Patrol after the two of them had escaped from the "Wolverine". Was it possible that Eric was in some kind of danger?
Linley touched his arm. "What is it? Can't you tell me?"
Alan shook his head. "I don't know." He stepped out the barracks' side door. Mark followed on his heels.
The cool breeze of the Lavirran night, laden with the fresh scent of growing things, brushed his face. Diamond stars spangled the clear night sky, unmasked by city lights. The base was kept blacked out at night, for Lavirra was supposed to be uninhabited -- in fact, it wasn't supposed to even exist -- but on the faint chance that a passing trader or explorer might drop out of hyperspace into the system, elementary caution was the official policy. None of the planet's three moons were visible and the night was very dark.
He stopped. "Mark --"
"Yeah?"
"Let's go see Ruthy."
Ruthy Channing was Eric Vogleman's psychic partner. Linley regarded him soberly in the dimness. "Trouble?"
"I think so."
"Okay." Linley turned back toward the barracks. "Whatcha think's the matter?"
"I don't know. I'm sensing danger." Alan started to run back toward the barracks and Mark kept pace with him. They went through the doors and sprinted down the corridor, sliding a little on the tiled floor. Alan rounded a corner and came to a skidding stop before a door. Mark arrived an instant later.
All was quiet. Mark glanced at him. "Well?" he whispered.
Alan knocked on the door. "Ruthy? Lorie?"
There was no response. Alan knocked again. "Ruthy!" He raised his voice. "Ruthy!" He paused a moment, concentrating. "She's not there!"
Mark tried to open the door without success. "Locked." He pounded on the panel. "Lorie! It's Mark! Open the door!"
Still no response. Alan put a hand on the door, and the image of the lock formed in his mind. A finger of telekinetic energy reached out, the lock slid back and the door opened. The two men charged through. The lights came on automatically, revealing two tumbled beds and a slender, blond figure, clad in a lacy nightgown and robe face down on the floor. Alan turned her over. "Lorie!"
Lorie Evans moaned faintly and her eyelids fluttered. Almost instantly, she started to gag. Alan turned her to one side and Mark stepped into the bathroom, returning almost at once with a thick bath towel.
Lorie was busy losing her supper. Alan looked up as Mark arrived and took the towel from him. "She's been stunned."
A roar sounded, making the building tremble slightly. Instantly, Alan identified it. "A ship!" He got to his feet and ran to the window, yanking back the curtains. In the distance he could see the broad expanse of the landing field and he caught the faint glow of repulsers, shimmering in the heat of their own energy discharge against the starry sky above the field. A moment later, the glow had dwindled and faded. The roar of the engines receded rapidly and was gone.
2
Alan turned quickly toward the door. "Take care of her. I'll be right back." He went into the hall. Figures were rushing down the corridor toward the exit, summoned by the sound of the takeoff. A young woman, wearing a flannel robe over a white, shimmery nightdress skidded to a stop when she saw him.
"Alan! What are you doing here?" Her gaze went to the door of Ruthy and Lorie's quarters and her eyebrows went up.
He felt his face flood with warmth but he tried to keep his voice matter-of-fact. "Oh, Julia, I'm glad to see you. Go get General Kaley. We've got an emergency."
She looked past him into the room. "Mark! What happened to Lorie?"
"Dunno," Mark said. "Somebody stunned her. Go get Kaley and Matt. Hurry up!"
Julia Austell ran to obey. Alan went back into the room and knelt beside Lorie Evans again. She was groaning, tears of pain sliding down her cheeks. "My head! Oh, my head!"
"Who did it?" Alan asked, keeping his voice low. He'd been stunned a few times and knew how it felt immediately after awakening.
Lorie was apparently incapable of replying. Alan went into the bathroom again and returned with a wet washcloth, starting to sponge her face. A moment later there was a footstep in the doorway and they both glanced up to see General Kaley enter, accompanied by Julia and Matt Philips, the Chief Medical Officer of the station.
"What happened, Colonel Westover?" Kaley asked.
"I don't know, sir." Alan felt the stiffness in his voice, as he always did these days when speaking to his commanding officer. Ever since Kaley had ordered him taken prisoner by his own people to prevent him from risking his life to save Mark several months ago, the easy friendship they had enjoyed earlier had vanished. "I had a nightmare and it woke me up. I guess I linked with Mark, because he woke up, too. I couldn't sleep and I had the feeling we should check on Ruthy. We got here and found Lorie stunned and Ruthy gone. Then we heard the ship take off." He paused. "That wasn't a standard takeoff. Do you know who it was?"
"No." Kaley was watching Matt Philips, who was kneeling beside Lorie. "Is she all right, Doctor?"
"She's been stunned. Lorie, can you hear me?"
Lorie nodded, the tears still sliding down her cheeks. "It hurts! Can't you *do* something?"
The doctor grimaced. "Close your eyes and relax if you can. It won't last long."
Kaley glanced at Alan again. "When I got outside, every psychic on the base was standing on the lawn, watching that ship take off. You say a dream woke you?"
"Yes," Alan replied. "A dream about Eric."
Doctor Philips looked up. "I had a dream about Eric, too. It woke me up."
Alan glanced at his partner. "I wonder how many other psychics on Lavirra had a dream about Eric tonight."
Kaley bent over Lorie Evans as Philips straightened up. "Are you all right, Captain?"
She nodded cautiously. "It's getting better. My goodness! I've never been stunned before! It's terrible!"
"Who did it?" Alan asked.
"Ruthy."
Philips' eyes opened wide. "*Ruthy* stunned you?"
"Yes," Lorie said. "When I tried to stop her from leaving."
Two people appeared in the doorway. "General Kaley?" one asked.
Kaley glanced up. "I'm busy, Lieutenant. What is it?"
"Sir --" Harold Parker looked hesitantly at Alan and then at Philips. "I have a really bad feeling about Eric -- Lieutenant Vogleman. I think he's in trouble. I had an awful dream about him and now I can't seem to get him off my mind." The young man paused. "I'm awfully worried, sir, and so is Ellen. She had the same dream."
Kaley looked back at Lorie. "Give me your report. Quickly."
"Yes, sir." Lorie looked uncomfortably toward the door as two more psychics appeared behind the first couple -- this time Majors Leroy Burke and his wife, Wanda. "Maybe you should close that door, sir," she said.
"Sir," one of the newcomers began, "I had a terrible dream about Eric Vogleman tonight --"
"I know," Kaley interrupted. "All the psychics on the base apparently did. Come on in."
The two officers entered and Wanda signaled the door to close. Kaley looked back at Lorie. "Go ahead, Captain."
"Yes, sir." The young nurse looked very distressed, Alan noticed. "I woke up --" She glanced at her chronometer. "About twenty minutes ago. Ruthy was sitting up in bed screaming for Eric. I thought she'd had a nightmare and I ran over to her. She was wide awake and looked scared to death. She started to dress as fast as she could. She said Eric was in trouble and she had to go after him right away. She said she'd had a terrible dream about him and that she was sure it was precognition. She *knew* he was in trouble.
"Well, I didn't argue. I figured she knew what she was talking about and of course I suggested that she tell you." Lorie paused, glancing furtively at Alan. "Maybe I should be telling you this in private, sir."
"Go on," Kaley said woodenly.
"Yes sir. Ruthy said she wasn't going to tell you -- not after that business with Alan." Lorie looked at the floor. "I'm sorry, sir. She said she didn't trust you. She was afraid you'd order her restrained like you did Alan. I told her she had to tell you and that she couldn't just go off by herself but she turned on me like a little tigress and screamed that she wasn't going to tell you and that I'd better not try, either. I figured I'd better do something fast. I got my robe and went to the door but something seemed to be wrong with the lock. It seemed to be jammed. I guess Ruthy must have been using an illusion to delay me until she could get her blaster. I fiddled with the manual for a moment, and then she must have hit me with a stunbeam. I woke up with Mark and Alan bending over me. Is Ruthy gone?"
"She's gone," Alan said.
Lorie looked back at Kaley. "I'm awfully sorry, sir."
Kaley didn't look at Philips. "Take care of her, Doctor. Colonel Westover, if you'll come with me, please. I want to speak to you in my quarters, immediately." He turned and went out. Alan glanced sideways at Mark and followed. The three psychics in the room watched them go in silence.
In the hall outside, several persons were gathered, all of them psychics. One of them came forward quickly as they emerged. "Sir," he began, "I had a dream tonight --"
"You all had a dream about Eric," Alan said. "Every psychic on the base apparently did."
Lewis Stevens, Matt Philips' psychic partner stopped, looking quickly at Alan. "What's happened?" he asked. "Who was in that ship that took off? It sounded like it went right over the base -- not the usual takeoff corridor."
"Ruthy Channing," Kaley replied. "She apparently got a terrific precognition that Eric was in trouble and transmitted it to every other telepath on the base."
"Eric's in trouble?" Stevens turned to Alan. "What kind of trouble?"
"We don't know, yet," Alan said.
The other man glanced briefly at Kaley. "And Ruthy went after him alone, huh?"
Kaley opened the door of his quarters. "Colonel Westover, Major Linley, if you please --"
They went past him into the room. The ceiling brightened automatically. Their superior officer waved them into his sitting room and gestured to a pair of comfortable chairs. "Sit down, please." He too a spot on the sofa across from them. His valet entered the room, looking sleepy, but retreated at a wave of the General's hand. Kaley waited until the door had closed behind him.
Alan sat down on the edge of the chair. Mark also sat down, but Alan noticed that he was no more at ease than Alan himself was. Kaley picked up a paperweight from the coffee table, examining it as if he had never seen it before. It was soft, white quartz, carved into the shape of an owl -- a gift from Alan two years before when they had been on more friendly terms.
"I know what you're thinking, Colonel," he said unexpectedly. "And you're perfectly right. What has happened is my own fault. I made a very bad mistake when I ordered you captured instead of assisting you to rescue Major Linley. Now my psychics are afraid -- and rightly so -- that I will do the same to them. What Lieutenant Channing has done is a demonstration of that and I am positive that there are other psychics on the base that feel the same way. Leroy Burke as much as told me this at the time but I didn't believe him." Kaley sighed. "But it's true, and this lack of trust seriously jeopardizes our mission. The morale of our Special Forces has been weakened and somehow I must strengthen it again if we are to continue with any hope of success."
Alan didn't speak. Mark shifted uneasily in his chair. "Whatcha want us to do, sir?" he asked.
"I want you to go after Lieutenant Vogleman," Kaley said. He cleared his throat again.
"Why?" Alan asked coldly.
Kaley was still studying the paperweight. "I want to demonstrate to the psychics on this base that I *do* care about them, and their partners. I want them to see me send my top psychic team after Eric. Lieutenant Vogleman is valuable to us, of course. He's the best clairvoyant tracer that we have, with the possible exception of yourself, Colonel, and Lieutenant Channing is an excellent illusionist -- the only one on this station. But even more important than retrieving them is restoring the morale of our Special Forces. Will you cooperate with me, Colonel Westover?"
Alan felt a surge of anger. Kaley didn't really care, he thought. He needed the trust of the psychics in their organization again and he intended to use the two of them as a tool to accomplish the task.
He stood up. "Eric and Ruthy need help, so of course I'll go."
His CO flushed. "My reasons sound cold and heartless to you, don't they, Colonel, but you must understand. I'm dealing with psychics. I am not a psychic myself and the job isn't easy. I made an error -- a serious error -- and I'm trying to repair the damage the only way I can. Our morale *must* be restored and you can help me do it. You're well-liked here and if you begin to trust me again, I believe the rest will follow." He paused. "I do care, Alan. I wouldn't lie to you. Read my mind if you want. My shields are down."
There was a long moment of silence as Alan considered. Read Kaley's mind? Alan didn't like to read the minds of his friends. It was an invasion of privacy. But was Kaley really his friend as well as his Commanding Officer? Mark had very nearly died because of the man's action.
He glanced at Mark. Mark had been the Commanding Officer of a Patrol battlecruiser. He probably understood Kaley's motivation better than Alan did. His partner's blue eyes looked steadily back at him but Alan didn't try to read his mind. He knew what his partner would do.
He looked back at Kaley. "I don't want to read you, sir," he said. "Tell us what you want us to do."
**********
tbc
