Two Giants For David -- 6/?
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
6
General Walter Kaley was preparing to evacuate the Lavirra base. Mark Linley had been taken prisoner by the Patrol, and Kaley knew beyond doubt that the former Strike Commander's shielding would not hold up for a moment under a Jilectan's mind probe.
In seven hours, the Patrol battlecruiser, 'Juggernaut', was due to depart from Terra, destination: Corala, seventy-two hours away. And upon arrival, Mark would be presented to the Jilectans and the whereabouts of the Lavirra base would come out. Because of his faulty shielding, certain secrets had been kept from Major Linley, and he would be unable to provide the whereabouts of any of the other Underground bases, but Lavirra was bad enough. Coupled with other things that Linley knew, this event was sure to be disastrous for the Terran Underground.
"Sir?"
Kaley glanced up from his desk. "What is it, Lieutenant?"
Young Eric Vogleman, the most powerful psychic the Underground had yet discovered, with the exception of Alan Westover, stood in the doorway. The boy was not quite eighteen but he looked much younger, his face drawn and pale. "We're getting a hyperspace message from Captain Connors, sir. It's for you, but I'm afraid it doesn't make much sense." He looked searchingly at his commanding officer. Kaley stood up.
"Thank you, Lieutenant." He followed the boy down the corridor to the communications room.
Julia Austell turned from the communications board, her lovely face slightly hostile. "Message, sir."
"Put it on the screen, Lieutenant."
Julia pressed a button and a readout appeared: "AW has escaped UG's custody."
Kaley's lips tightened. Eric and Julia were both watching him questioningly. The readout continued.
"Occurred 90 minutes ago. Agents sent in pursuit. No reports yet. AW angry."
Leroy Burke, another psychic, and Kaley's closest friend at the station, appeared in the doorway.
"What's happened, sir?" Burke inquired.
"Alan got away from Phil."
Julia came to her feet and Eric was instantly beside her, regarding Kaley with horror. "What have you *done*, sir?"
Kaley glanced absently at the two lieutenants. "I ordered Major Westover restrained. We don't need both of them caught. Apparently, the Major resented my order and has openly defied it --"
Eric interrupted him. "You tried to stop a psychic from helping his partner? Are you crazy or something?"
Kaley stared at the boy, nonplused. Eric had never been insubordinate before. In fact, up until now, young Vogleman had always treated his commanding officer with deep respect and a certain level of awe. Burke was watching him covertly and Julia Austell's expression was one of barely controlled fury.
The General cleared his throat. "That's enough, Lieutenant!"
"It's not enough!" Eric's voice rose furiously. "You tried to stop Alan from helping Mark You ... you *traitor*!"
Kaley frowned at the boy. "You're dismissed, Lieutenant!"
Eric didn't appear to hear him. "I can't believe it!" He jerked away as Leroy Burke placed a hand on his arm. "Keep your hands to yourself, Major!" His gaze swept Burke disdainfully. "You knew, and you didn't even try to stop him! You're no better than he is! What if it had been Wanda that was taken?"
To Kaley's unutterable surprise, Burke made no reply. He turned away, lowering his eyes as though ashamed.
It was up to him to save the situation. Kaley stepped forward, favoring the young lieutenant with his most intimidating stare. "Get out, Vogleman! You're insubordinate!"
"Stuff it!" Eric faced him, his body rigid with emotion. "No one -- do you hear me -- *no one* keeps a psychic from helping his partner! If I'd been Alan I'd have killed that jackal, Connors, when I got loose!"
"You're under arrest, Lieutenant!" Kaley pressed a button on the wall. "Security to the communications room!"
"General." Burke's voice was subdued. "Please don't --"
"Be quiet, Major." Kaley glanced at Julia.
She spoke suddenly. "Better arrest me, too, General. I feel exactly as Eric does."
The door slid open and two security men entered. Kaley gestured to Eric. "Lieutenant Vogleman is under arrest. Take him to the brig and confine him."
The guards saluted, their expressions mirroring surprise. "Yes, sir."
Kaley glanced at Julia again. "You're dismissed, Lieutenant Austell."
She exited without a word, and the guards followed, Eric between them. The young psychic's chin was elevated, and he didn't glance back. The door closed behind them.
"Oh man." Burke spoke softly. "I was afraid of this."
Kaley sighed. "Good Lord, Lee! Don't you start in on me, too."
Burke was silent, staring at the floor. Kaley began to pace. "What the devil was I supposed to do? We can't afford to lose Alan."
"You should have done as I suggested, sir -- assisted him, not imprisoned him."
Kaley glowered at his subordinate. "Damn you, Lee --"
Burke's head came up. "Permission to speak frankly, sir?"
Kaley nodded curtly.
"You've made a mistake, General -- a big mistake. As the boy said, nobody stands in the way of a psychic whose partner is in danger -- not if he wants to stay in the psychic's good graces. I'm afraid that you've turned Alan -- and probably every other psychic who hears of this -- against you. They'll be afraid the same thing could happen to them if their partner gets in trouble."
"Alan's something of a special case --"
"Alan and Mark are well liked, General -- perhaps too well liked. The psychics, and possibly some of the non-psychics as well, will side with Alan against you." He paused, chewing his lower lip. "In this organization, more than anything else, we need unity. I'm afraid you've lost that now."
Kaley shook his head. "I think you're exaggerating. If Linley dies -- and I wouldn't want to bet on his chances at the moment -- the Underground will be all that Alan has left. He can't turn against it."
"I think you're wrong," Burke said.
"I'm not wrong." Kaley spoke with more confidence than he felt. "He'll be upset for a while, but he'll get over it."
"Lisa Wilkens' partner died a year ago," Burke said soberly. "Do you think she's gotten over it, or forgiven the people who killed him?"
Kaley repressed a twinge of doubt. "Oh posh, Lee! It won't be us that kill Major Linley. Alan can't hold it against me because I want to protect my top psychic."
"I think he can." Burke spoke shortly, and with less warmth than Kaley had ever heard in his voice before. "Furthermore, I think he will." He turned abruptly and went out, not asking permission. Kaley stared after him.
7
Alan watched as Mark approached the aircar, surrounded by the crowd of patrolmen. The danger was imminent, and he closed his eyes, forcing himself to concentrate. A man was concealed behind the hedge, twenty meters from the parked aircar, and instantly Alan sensed something strange -- very different emotions from the hostility and anger of the surrounding crowd of spacers. The hidden man had a purpose -- a very definite purpose for being there. He was expectant and slightly pleased with himself. Alan extended a mind probe.
The answer was instantly clear to him. The man was an agent of the Terran Underground and had managed to plant a bomb in the waiting aircar. The device was rigged to go off when the engine was activated and would, most probably, kill everybody in the vehicle, Major Linley included. The Jilectans would be robbed of their victim and, although the Underground would lose a valuable member, its secrets would remain safe.
At once, Alan turned his attention to the car's controls. The bomb came into view at once. Mark and his escort were just passing on the walk and Linley was nearer to Alan than he had been before. The explosive device was a long way off for telekinetic work but with his partner so near, he could manage it. Although Mark was surrounded by patrolmen, Alan felt the easy flow of psychic power from Mark as he reached telekinetically for the bomb's trigger.
Linley must have sensed the drain, for his head came up, his gaze turning automatically in Alan's direction. For one brief instant, their eyes connected.
In Alan's mind, two wires moved. They lifted, bypassing the starting control, and crossed.
With a deafening concussion, the car exploded. The patrolmen threw themselves flat, dragging their prisoner down with them as their aircar vanished in a seething ball of flame. Bits of metal flew in all directions, and there was a cry of pain from Strike Commander Foxe.
The spacers rushed forward, once again obscuring Mark from Alan's view. The patrolmen were getting to their feet and Alan heard breathless curses. He caught a glimpse of the Strike Commander, one hand pressed to his neck. Blood oozed between his fingers.
"What the devil --" Admiral Powell still stood on the stationary walk, staring at the remains of the aircar. Somewhere a siren began to wail.
The presence in the bushes was emanating mixed feelings of shock, confusion and puzzlement. Alan detached himself from the crowd and drifted quietly in the man's direction, hardly hearing the patrolmen's curses and Foxe's shouted orders. Fire fighting vehicles converged on the scene, their sirens screaming. Alan increased his pace slightly, leaving the crowd behind. More spacers were coming across the grounds to investigate this new explosion, and Alan caught one last glimpse of Mark as his partner was half-carried toward another aircar. Linley was grinning weakly, and Alan realized that Mark must have added together the energy drain and the exploding aircar to equal Alan Westover.
The man behind the hedge was recovering from his shock, and thoughts of escape were now uppermost in his mind. It would be most unfortunate if he were discovered here, so soon after the aircar's untimely demise. Alan continued to move quietly toward him, deepening his telepathic probe at the same time.
He knew the man. His name was Alonzo (Lonnie) Pierce, a member of the Underground station in Boston. He had been the second person unaccounted for during Alan's escape. His mission here had been to rescue or, if unable to rescue, to kill Major Linley. Alan felt cold fury take possession of him.
Lonnie faded toward the other side of the hedge, rose to his feet and began to stride briskly away. Alan fell in behind him.
Lonnie glanced back, and Alan sensed faint apprehension. The man's pace increased, and so did Alan's.
Lonnie broke into a run.
Alan was upon him before he had gone three steps. He struck his quarry in a flying tackle that sent them both to the ground behind another, slightly thorny evergreen hedge. Lonnie began to struggle at once but Alan rolled away and came to his feet, blaster out and leveled.
"Drop it!" he hissed.
Lonnie's grip on the blaster relaxed and he blinked up at Alan in the darkness. "Who --"
"On your feet!"
Lonnie got clumsily to his feet, rubbing one elbow. "Alan, is that you?"
Alan gestured with the blaster. "Start walking toward that building over there. You give me any trouble and I'll kill you."
The other man started to obey, protesting in a whisper. "Hey, have a heart. My orders --"
"I know all about your orders." Alan gestured with the blaster again. "Move, Lieutenant, or I swear I'll kill you."
Lonnie was hardly listening to him. "Were you the one that triggered the bomb? Dammit, Alan, I went to a lot of trouble to plant that thing."
Alan jabbed the nose of the blaster into the other man's spine. "I said move."
Lonnie half-trotted toward the building, apprehension sweeping his thoughts again. "What the hell's wrong with you, Alan?"
"Shut up." Alan pushed him toward a low, windowless structure and reached out a telekinetic finger toward the lock. It clicked, and the door slid open. He herded his prisoner inside, flicking on his handlight to low as he did so.
Lonnie turned to face him as the door closed, blinking a little in the beam of the handlight. Alan sensed varied emotions, the primary one now apprehension. Lonnie feared that his captor was not in reality Alan Westover, but an imposter that might try to wring the whereabouts of the elusive Westover from him.
"It's really me, Lieutenant," he said.
Lonnie took a deep breath. The apprehension eased and faint annoyance began to emerge. "Holy space, but you gave me a turn. I thought --"
"I know what you thought," Alan said.
Lonnie's eyes widened and his shields snapped up. "Hey!" His voice was indignant. "What the hell are you doing, reading me? I'll report you for that." He stopped abruptly. "I suppose you really are the one responsible for the bomb going off prematurely."
"Yes," Alan said thinly.
"Dammit, kid, I had a helluva time getting it planted -- and I'm not likely to have another chance --" Again he hesitated, then compressed his lips. "I'm sorry, Alan. Please don't look like that. Kaley said --"
"Yes, I know what Kaley said."
"Dammit to hell!" Now Lonnie sounded really angry. "How much did you pick out of me while I didn't know you were doing it?"
"Everything I needed," Alan said.
"Blast it! You had no right to do that! Regulations state clearly that no psychic is to read a non without his permission!"
Alan stepped forward, the blaster leveled at Lonnie's chest. "That rule refers to persons the psychic considers a friend or comrade in arms. I no longer consider you as such."
"*What?*"
"You heard me."
"What the hell do you mean? You're the one disobeying orders. Kaley will have you arrested for this."
"You can tell Kaley to go to hell," Alan said.
Lonnie stared at him. "He'll court-martial you, Alan. Do you really want to risk that?" His voice changed abruptly. "For God's sake, I know how you must feel, but you can't get him loose by yourself!"
"Well," Alan said sarcastically, "Kaley really hasn't given me much choice in the matter, has he?"
"Kid, don't be a fool --"
Alan cut him off. "You will not address me in that manner again, Lieutenant. That type of familiarity is reserved only for my friends."
Lonnie stared at him. "Alan --"
"Major Westover to you, Lieutenant."
Lonnie gulped. "All right, Major. I'm sorry. But listen, you can't --"
"I'm going to try to rescue Major Linley, Lieutenant," Alan said coldly. "I would rather have attempted this with the Underground's cooperation, but since Kaley has refused to give it, I'm going to have to go alone." He adjusted the weapon. "But I have a message for Phil and Kaley, and I want you to give it to them."
"Yes sir --"
"Tell them that, if Mark dies, I'm leaving the Underground. Furthermore, I will hold them both personally responsible for his death, and if I'm ever able to get close enough to them, I'll kill them both."
Lonnie's jaw dropped. "You can't mean that!"
"Tell them."
"But sir -- holy space -- I can't tell the General *that*!"
Alan didn't answer and Lonnie finally nodded. "Very well, sir." He hesitated. "Uh, Major --"
"Yes?"
"If you do manage to save Major Linley, are you coming back?"
Alan considered the question clinically. "I don't know yet," he said at last. "If my feelings remain as they are at present, probably not."
"But Alan -- I mean, Major Westover --" Lonnie was looking almost panic-stricken. "We can't afford to lose you, and you need us as much as we --"
"I may need the Underground," Alan said, "but not that much. Mark's life means more to me than the whole organization. Kaley tried to make me choose between my partner and the Underground." He paused infinitesimally. "There *is* no choice -- for me, or for any other psychic he tried that stunt on. And you can tell him that, too."
A long silence.
"Yes sir." Lonnie sounded subdued.
"I'm going now. Be sure the General receives those messages, Lieutenant."
"I will, sir." Lonnie hesitated, watching Alan. "What are you going to do with me?"
"Stun you. Brace yourself."
"Oh God! No, Alan, please!" Lonnie took a step forward and Alan fired.
Lonnie dropped to the floor. Alan stared down at him for a moment, bitter thoughts racing through his mind, and then he turned and went out, closing the door behind him. Carefully, he envisioned the lock and applied pressure. The bolt clicked into place. He didn't want anyone discovering Lonnie before the man awoke, but Lonnie would be able to open it from the inside, after he finished throwing up. Alan smiled grimly and headed toward the landing field.
*Alan?*
The voice formed in his mind, almost before he was aware of it. A Terran psychic was near. Alan faded back into a hedge, bringing his blaster up. Around him all was still, but his clairvoyant talents detected a presence approaching. Rapidly, he raised his shields, shrinking back farther into the hedge. So, Phil had sent more people after him -- psychics this time. Such people were far more dangerous than men like Lonnie Pierce.
A figure materialized out of the darkness and again a voice spoke, although not telepathically now. "Alan, where are you?"
Alan could see him easily, a dark silhouette against the lighter darkness of the landing field. Another shape materialized, and the two glanced at each other. Psychic partners? Obviously, they were aware of each other's presence and purpose. They made no sound, and Alan knew at once that they were speaking telepathically. With his shields up, he could not pick up their communication, but suddenly a third figure materialized from the shadows.
"Alan, where are you?" It was a woman's voice. "Don't be afraid."
*Three* of them! Phil must have sent out every psychic he could get his hands on. How could *any* psychic, knowing what had happened, turn against him? Was it possible that Phil hadn't told them the whole story, knowing that they wouldn't cooperate if they knew the full situation?
"He's layin' low." It was a new voice, the soft whisper carrying the accent of a Shallockian native. "He's afraid we're here to take him back. Major Westover, listen to me. We've come to help you."
Alan remained motionless, wishing that he dared believe the man.
The woman's voice spoke again. "Trust us, Alan. We're on your side."
Alan flicked his blaster to emergency max and stepped from concealment, keeping the muzzle fixed on the three figures. "Turn around," he whispered.
The woman gave a faint gasp and spun. The two men also turned, being obviously careful not to move their hands toward their concealed weapons.
"Don't come any closer," Alan said. "If you try to take me, I'll incinerate you all. The blaster's on max."
The taller of the two men cleared his throat. "Easy, Major, we're here to try to help you."
"I want to believe you," Alan said. "I don't like to think that a psychic would try to keep another psychic from helping his partner." He lowered his shields as he spoke.
The three minds were open and unshielded, and he relaxed. There was no deception here -- at least none that he could detect. Nor could he sense any danger. He flipped the blaster to stun and thrust it beneath his jacket with the one he had taken from Zimmerman.
"Sorry," he said.
"It's all right." The largest of the three figures came forward, the other two flanking him. "I'm Captain Neil Beaumont. I've had the pleasure of meeting you once before under slightly different circumstances."
Alan took the extended hand. The other two stepped forward respectfully and the man extended a hand. "Lieutenants Don and Lana Vandenberg, sir."
Alan clasped the proffered hand and smiled. "I should have known. Sorry for the misunderstanding."
"Forget it," Beaumont said. "We've brought you some news. Major Linley's been taken aboard the 'Patton', and they've moved up the takeoff. It seems they're having a little trouble with the spacers."
"Things have been gettin' a bit warm," Don Vandenberg said. "To put it mildly."
"Two of their men have been found strangled," Lana said. "And a sublieutenant was jumped behind the barracks and beaten half to death. Three more men are missing, and they're searching for them."
Alan whistled inaudibly.
"I suppose it was you that blew up the 'Juggernaut'," Beaumont said, a note of respect in his voice. "In any case, Foxe seems to be getting tired of it. They'll be departing as soon as everyone's aboard." He looked up and down Alan's uniform. "You look very nice, Ensign Thompkins. Better get going."
Alan nodded. "Thanks, all of you."
"Unfortunately, we didn't have the time to get ourselves assigned to the 'Patton'," Beaumont said. "We'd be there with you, otherwise. Be careful, Major."
"I will." Alan glanced toward the storage shed where he had left Lonnie. "There's an Underground agent in that building. He was trying to kill Mark, but I stopped him and left him there, stunned. Do you think you could take care of him for me?"
"No problem," Don Vandenberg said. "Leave him to us." He showed his teeth in a mirthless smile.
"Better go on, now," Beaumont said. "You don't want to arrive late. It might attract attention. Try to stay in telepathic contact as long as you can."
"I will," Alan said. "Thank you." Quietly, he turned away and headed for the landing field.
**********
As Alan neared the "Patton", he slowed his pace, glancing around. Mark was nowhere in sight, of course, although there were patrolmen by the dozens boarding, interspersed by Terran spacers in the brown uniforms. Alan checked his borrowed I.D. through the computer and was cleared. Ensign Jerry Thompkins was aboard.
A patrolman came pounding up the ramp behind him and Alan's neck prickled instinctively, but the man pushed past him, glanced around the corridor and turned back. "Where's Strike Commander Foxe, you?"
"I don't know," Alan said truthfully. "I just came aboard, myself."
"Well, find him for me, dammit!"
Alan went to a wall communicator and pressed the button for the Control Room. "Control Room, this is Ensign Thompkins. Is Strike Commander Foxe there?"
"He's in the infirmary with the prisoner," came the reply.
The patrolman started toward the lift and then stopped and glanced back at Alan again. "Which deck is the infirmary on?"
Having been a cadet at Terran Space Academy, Alan was familiar with the Corps' light cruisers. "It's on fourth, sir."
The patrolman turned without a word and ran on. Alan followed discreetly.
The fourth deck was crawling with crewmen. Alan headed for the infirmary, trying to keep his face down. If any of the other crewmembers proved to be an ex-classmate of Jerry Thompkins, he could get in trouble. He hoped that any newcomer to the ship would be more occupied in orienting himself to his surroundings than checking out the nameplate of a young, unremarkable ensign, who was obviously in a hurry.
"Clear the way!"
The doors of the infirmary slid aside and an antigrav litter emerged, guided along by two patrolmen. The spacers fell back and again all talk died. People moved aside and became silent, their eyes on the figure on the gurney.
**********
tbc
