Two Giants For David -- 10/11
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
12
"Hang on!" Alan shouted.
The tiny lifeboat shot from the open hatch and burst free of the protective field generated by the light cruiser. There was a massive jolt. For a split second, Alan glimpsed the star patterns of normal space on the screen and then the craft vibrated as if every molecule of its frame were being ripped apart. There was another terrific jolt, the stars on the screen did a gigantic Catherine wheel and the viewscreen flared with brilliant light. From somewhere, several alarm bells went off at once.
Then, everything was calm and still.
**********
"You okay?" Kurt asked.
Alan blinked and reached up to rub his face. His ears were still ringing from the jolt. "Yeah," he said. He squinted at the control board, and blinked again in an effort to clear the blurriness of his eyes. "I guess we made it."
"Yeah," Kurt said. "I guess we did. For a minute there I thought the ship had exploded. I've never had a transition like that one."
"Me either," Alan said. "I guess that's something we'll need to work on, in case we ever have to do it again."
"I guess so," Kurt said. He rubbed his own face. "You know, I never thought of you as quite so --"
"What?" Alan asked.
"I don't know. You were never this assertive at the Academy. Like I said, mild mannered was your watchword."
"It still is," Alan said.
"Not from what I've seen."
"There's a long story behind it," Alan said. "I'll tell you all about it on the way back to Lavirra."
"Where?"
"One of the Underground's main bases," Alan said, a trifle grimly. "We're headed there. I'm not supposed to talk about it, but I can't say I care much at the moment. You check things over and make sure everything's all right. I'm going to check on Mark."
**********
"Sublight in two minutes," Kurt said. He glanced at Alan. "Hope they're expecting us. I don't want to get shot at."
"They won't shoot without identifying us first," Alan said. "Besides, we'll announce ourselves when we come out of hyperspace." He stood up. "I'm going to take another look at Mark. Back in a minute."
Linley was still deeply asleep, his breathing shallow and slow and his bruised face very pale in the cabin's lighting. Alan frowned. Mark looked terrible and he hadn't stirred the entire twenty hours since they had left the "Patton". He leaned over his sleeping partner.
"Mark, please wake up."
Linley didn't stir. Alan spoke to him again, sighed and pulled the safety webbing across the bunk. Slowly, he stood up and returned to the tiny control room.
Kurt turned in the seat as he entered. "Well?"
"No change." Alan sank into the copilot's chair. "I'm worried."
"Yeah, me too. It won't be long now, though. We'll have him to a doctor soon."
Alan nodded. "Ten seconds to breakout."
They emerged from hyperspace fifteen minutes from Lavirra's gravity well. Kurt opened a communication channel on a standard radio wave and glanced at Alan. "You're on."
Alan leaned over the unit. "Lavirra Base, come in."
"Wait!" Kurt was watching the screen. "Two vessels approaching -- really moving, too!" He sucked in his breath sharply. "Interceptors! Holy smoke! Start talking!"
The communicator crackled. "Interceptor to lifeboat! Identify yourself!"
"Hi Frank," Alan said. "This is Little Boy Blue."
"My god! It's *him*!" The words were almost a shriek and the two interceptors swooped upward, tracing an intricate loop-the-loop around the lifeboat. "Lieutenant Vogleman told us it was you, sir, but we could hardly believe --"
Frank's excited babble was cut off by another voice. "Are you all right, sir? Is Major Linley with you?"
Alan glanced at Kurt. "Yes, but he's hurt bad. Have a med team waiting for us, would you?"
"Will do, Major!" It was Frank's voice again. "Sam, you head back and announce 'em. I'll escort 'em in."
"Right. See you on the ground, sir." The other interceptor departed in haste.
Frank's voice spoke again. "How bad is he hurt, sir?"
"I don't know," Alan said, controlling his voice with an effort. "He hasn't come around since we got him out. We think they used sweetgrass on him."
"Oh." Frank was obviously doing calculations in his head. "Sometimes it takes a while to sleep the stuff off. It might not be as bad as you think."
"It's bad," Alan said. "I know. He almost died, and he's still awfully sick."
"Okay: I'll take your word for it. You're his partner." There was an uncomfortable pause. "Matt'll pull him through it, and he'll be proud of what you did. Lanthzor's spitting live coals and the Terran broadcasters are having a blast. Congratulations to you, too, Lieutenant McDougal. And welcome to the Terran Underground."
"Thanks." Kurt sounded a little awed. "How did you guys know what happened?"
"We were monitoring the Patrol frequencies, as usual," Frank said. "The 'Patton' came out of hyperspace to report the -- events -- to Corala. We intercepted Osborne's report, which was a relief, because we didn't have to evacuate the base. From what I heard, the poor guy was a bit upset. They figure it was Major Westover that shot Foxe, and since Subcommander Wattenbarger had stayed behind with the 'Juggernaut', Osborne found himself in command with a very shameful situation on his hands. Halthzor's demanding to know how two Terrans did that much damage and transported a hundred kilo prisoner from the prison deck to the lifeboat deck without being noticed until they reached the hanger. I'd be willing to place a small wager that he spends some time in the hospital after they do finally reach Corala."
"I hope so," Kurt said. "I really hope so."
**********
The medical team boarded as soon as they landed. Alan stood by his partner as Matt Philips bent over Mark. "What did they do to him?"
Alan swallowed. "They gave him sweetgrass. And that was after they beat him to a pulp. I don't know what happened after that, but --"
"Alan thinks the stuff nearly killed him," Kurt said soberly. "Apparently he linked with Mark at the time and Mark was having trouble breathing. I was outside the interrogation room and I saw them carry him back to his cell. The doctor was giving him oxygen."
Philips nodded and gestured to the corpsmen. "Get him to the infirmary on the double."
When they emerged from the ship, Alan had the impression of a sea of faces, all watching in silence. Kaley took a step forward and then apparently changed his mind. Abruptly Julia Austell appeared beside him.
"What happened? What did they do to him?"
Alan put an arm around her. "They interrogated him. I don't know --"
"Is he going to be all right?"
He shook his head. "Matt didn't say."
Julia bit her lip and Kurt stood silently by, obviously not knowing what to do. Alan reached over and grasped him by the forearm. "This is Kurt McDougal, Julia. He helped me get Mark out. I'm not sure I'd have managed without him."
Julia smiled at Kurt, surreptitiously dabbing at her eyes. "Thank you."
Kurt smiled slightly. "You're welcome." He cocked his head sideways, surveying her. "I've seen you before. You're Julia Austell, aren't you?"
She nodded, keeping step with Alan easily. The crowd made way for them in silence. He could no longer see Kaley.
At the entrance to the infirmary, the crowd paused. Leroy Burke appeared at the door. "Alan --"
Alan looked resentfully at the man. Leroy Burke was the closest thing to a friend that Kaley had on the Lavirra base. "What?"
The major appeared uncomfortable. "I'm sorry for what happened, Alan. I advised Kaley against it, but he thought --"
"I know what he thought," Alan said bitterly. "The Underground can't afford to lose me, and if Mark dies I'll have no place else to go. It doesn't work like that, *Major*."
Burke bit his lip. "Alan, please think twice before you do anything that can't be undone. It's a big, very cruel galaxy out there."
"If Mark doesn't make it, I'm leaving the Underground," Alan said flatly. "Those are the terms. You can tell Kaley that, too."
Burke sighed. "A lot of our psychics feel that way. Kaley almost had a revolt on his hands after the news got out. He -- well, he doesn't understand psychic partnership, or he'd never have done what he did. Besides, Mark isn't a psychic, so I guess he believed that the attachment wouldn't be as strong in your case."
"Well, he thought wrong," Alan said shortly.
"Alan --"
Alan turned on the little man, no longer trying to control his anger. "Why the devil didn't you explain it to him, Major? How would you have felt if that had been Wanda on her way to the Jils, while Phil Connors stands over you asking if you want something to *eat*? I suggest you give him a crash course on psychic partnerships, so he has some idea of what he did -- before he does something as stupid to someone else!" He pivoted sharply on his heel and entered the infirmary, leaving Burke standing there. Kurt and Julia followed him.
A young woman entered behind them. "Alan?"
He turned. "Yes, Ruby?"
She smiled hesitantly. "I sure hope Mark's going to be all right. The General does, too."
Alan's mouth hardened. "If Kaley wants to tell me anything, he can do it personally."
Ruby flushed. "I'm sorry, Alan. He --" She broke off quickly at his expression and her voice became official. "Lieutenant McDougal?"
Kurt glanced at Alan and then back at her. "Yes?"
"General Kaley would like to see you, sir."
Kurt looked at Alan. "Do you want me to stay with you, Alan? Kaley's not my commanding officer yet."
"It's all right," Alan said. "Go ahead. I doubt the doctor will let you stay in the infirmary anyway."
"All right." Kurt rested a hand on his shoulder. "If you need anything, yell. Okay?"
"Okay. And thanks," he added. "I doubt I could have done it without you."
McDougal followed Ruby and Alan turned back toward the treatment room where Mark was being examined. Lorie Evans, Dr. Philips chief assistant, appeared at the door. "Come on in, Alan."
Alan and Julia entered the room. Mark lay still on a hospital bed and Matt Philips was inserting a needle into his good arm. The doctor didn't look up from his task as they entered. "Come on over here, Alan."
Alan obeyed. "How is he?"
"Not good." Philips secured the tube, frowning. "Sweetgrass is rough on the human nervous system, while all it does to the Jils is give 'em a nice high. Odd, though --"
"What?"
"Well, I've run a blood test on him, and it shows a relatively small amount of the stuff in his system, for his size that is, even allowing for the time passed since it was administered. The Patrol doctor apparently was very careful, but Mark reacted violently -- almost as though...." He paused again.
"Go on, Matt," Julia prompted.
He glanced at her and then back at Alan. "Mark is reacting to the sweetgrass in exactly the same way I've seen psychics react to it. As you know, psychics are more sensitive to certain drugs than non-psychics. Sweetgrass is one of them. Every Patrol doctor knows that you never give a psychic the same amount of sweetgrass that you'd give a non. You'd kill him if you did. Mark isn't a psychic and he shouldn't have reacted this way. But he did, and I think it's only because of his size that he survived. Odd -- very odd."
"It could just be a coincidence," Julia suggested.
"Maybe." Matt sounded dubious. "But the fact that Mark is linked to Alan, and somehow transmits psychic energy to him, makes me wonder if there's something we don't know about his physiologic makeup that allows him to do that, and also makes him react like a psychic to certain drugs." He surveyed Mark's battered face worriedly. "I take it this was for your benefit, Alan."
Alan nodded. "They were trying to lure me in. I don't know why they decided to use sweetgrass, though. It doesn't seem like a very sensible move. Is he going to be all right?"
The doctor met his eyes squarely. "I don't know. I wish I could say yes for certain, but I can't. We'll flush the stuff out of his system and let him rest. I'll know more in twenty-four hours." He sighed. "I'll do my best."
Alan swallowed. "I know."
"You can stay with him if you like," Matt continued. "We'll transfer him to the critical care unit and I'll have the orderlies bring you a chair. I'm limiting his visitors to you, though. Sorry, Julia."
Alan nodded grimly. Philips looked quickly at him. "Alan --"
"Spare the lecture," Alan said shortly. "Lee already tried."
Philips smiled faintly. "I wasn't going to lecture you. I'm not that stupid. I have a psychic partner of my own, remember."
"Yeah."
"I understand exactly how you feel," Philips said. "Kaley's sorry for what he did -- mostly because he's afraid he's going to lose his top psychic -- but it won't make any difference if Mark dies. I have a strong suspicion that if you decide to leave the Underground, a lot of psychics will join you. I'll be one of them. I'm afraid of what Kaley will do if Lew is ever captured. Really, I admire your restraint." He paused. "I lost my first partner, Alan. If I had been in your place, Phil Connors wouldn't be alive. I wouldn't have wasted my time setting the blaster on stun."
"I was tempted," Alan said shortly. "If Mark dies, I'll finish the job."
"Perfectly understandable," Matt said. "But let's not write Mark's epitaph yet. He's young and strong, and he's a fighter in spades. I'd say that puts the odds in his favor." He glanced at Julia, still standing silently beside Alan. "You'd better go now, Julia. I'm sorry."
Julia turned without a word and went out. Lorie entered a moment later, and handed Philips a filled syringe. Matt injected the fluid into the intravenous tubing. "Let's see if that picks up his heart rate a little." He glanced at the monitor over the bed and nodded in satisfaction. "Good. All right, Lorie, let's move him to the CCU, as close to the nurse's station as possible. I want him checked every fifteen minutes, and he's to have no visitors, except Alan, of course."
Lorie Evans nodded. "Yes sir."
Philips went out and Lorie looked at Alan. "Everybody's rooting for him. You know that, don't you?"
Alan sighed. "Yes, I know."
13
Mark Linley had been dreaming. He was cold and it was dark. The air he breathed was freezing and there were walls encasing him on all sides. He was sealed in a tomb -- buried alive.
He tried to lift a hand to feel the roof over him but the hand wouldn't move. All was still, quiet and cold. Perhaps this was death -- eternal cold and darkness.
The cold was dissipating and hands touched him. A blanket covered him and a voice spoke from a great distance. He couldn't make out the words.
The tomb closed again but now the terrible cold was gone. He was warm and very tired. Sensation faded, and for a long time there was nothing.
Dreams forming again -- shifting images and voices speaking nearby. Hands lifted him. A face solidified before him -- the visored face of Patrolman Zimmerman. It had been a dream then. Alan hadn't killed him. Foolish to think so. Alan was such a sweet, sympathetic kid. He couldn't have shot a man through the head....
His arm twinged violently. Zimmerman's grinning face floated over him and they were tugging at him. He struck out as hard as he could and felt his fist connect with something. There was a surprised grunt.
Hands closed on his shoulders and a dream voice spoke in his mind, pleading with him to be quiet. Zimmerman vanished and he saw Alan. Alan! The boy was so near! Another dream....
But it was Alan's voice, without doubt, so he obeyed, letting himself drift slowly downward. Warmth enveloped him and there was the sensation of movement. He was suddenly very light, and the dreams slid away into darkness.
Lancing pains through his head and his arm aching unbearably. Zimmerman's face loomed over him and Mark gave a stifled cry, trying to bring his hands up. But his hands wouldn't move. They were immobilized by other hands that held him as easily as one might restrain a child. Another stabbing pain in his forehead made him flinch. A voice spoke soothingly and the pains slowly subsided. "Mark?"
Another dream. Alan's voice spoke to him, penetrating the velvety blackness. He mustn't answer. If he did, they would know his partner was near. Mark groaned and turned his face away, trying once more to seek refuge in unconsciousness.
"Mark, please wake up!"
Muscular hands clasped his, holding them comfortingly. Linley groaned again and opened his eyes. Alan's face hovered over him, worried, but smiling a little. How near he seemed!
"Mark, do you hear me?"
The patrolmen were gone and all was calm and quiet. Mark blinked at his partner's image. "Hi, kid."
Relief swept over Alan's features. "Thank goodness you're awake! How do you feel?"
An indistinct figure loomed up behind Alan and Mark tried to lever himself up. "Look out!"
Alan grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back. The hands were real -- solid. Mark seized one of them and felt it grip his firmly. "It's okay. It's only Matt."
"Kid?"
"Yes, Mark."
"You're real."
"Yes."
Linley grasped Alan's hand convulsively, unreasonably afraid that if he released it, Alan would vanish once more. "Don't go away."
"I won't." Alan's voice sounded completely calm. "You're safe. Go back to sleep. Everything's all right."
"Where's the 'trols?" His voice sounded like a rusty hinge.
"Gone," Alan said. "You're safe. It isn't a dream."
Mark closed his eyes, still gripping his partner's hand. After a while he drifted away into sleep once more.
**********
tbc
