Awakenings: 4/?
by Linda Garrick and Nancy Smith
Chapter 4
Ruthy Channing watched Eric stride across the field and reach the open road, joining more children walking home.
Slowly then, she turned back and headed through the trees toward the spot where she and Eric had agreed to meet. Nervousness crawled on her skin, and she hugged the baby close, half-sobbing. The Voglemans were dead. Only the children survived, and even they, perhaps, not for long. How could the Patrol have known that she and Eric, and perhaps other members of her family as well, were the psychics that she had read about in the pamphlets? But somehow they had found out, and this was the result. The Patrol was after all of them. If the police wouldn't help them, what were they going to do?
Ever since she could remember, she and Eric had been the closest of friends. She smiled a little. All her recollections since she had been very small were of Eric. Eric, lifting her out of the mud puddle that Christmas day, so long ago. Eric, smiling proudly at her as she won the second grade class spelling bee. Eric, riding her home on his bicycle after her own bike had been crunched by a car. Eric...always Eric. He was her life -- her world. What would happen to him now? His parents were dead, and his relatives...as far as she knew, he had none.
Would he be sent to an orphanage? Maybe her mother and father would be willing to take him and his sister into their family. Her mother liked Eric, and so did her father, although Ruthy knew that her father looked upon him a little more critically than her mother. Eric was the boy that would someday marry his daughter. There had never been any doubt of it in Ruthy's mind since her seventh birthday when he had told her that he was going to marry her when they grew up. But she had really known it before then. There hadn't been a time that she could remember when she hadn't loved Eric.
But if they wouldn't take him, and Eric had to move away, what would she do? She couldn't stand it! She'd wither up and die!
Elizabeth whimpered, rooting at her shirt. Ruthy looked down at the baby, swallowing. Eric's little sister -- the child the family had longed for. She would grow up alone, without a mother or father.
The baby whimpered again and began to fuss. Ruthy opened a can of the formula, poured it into the bottle and attached the nipple. Elizabeth sucked eagerly, downing the milk in big gulps. Ruthy burped her, and fed her the rest of the formula.
At last Elizabeth fell asleep in her arms, and Ruthy, herself, felt drowsiness creep over her. She was terribly tired, and had gotten very little sleep the night before. Would it hurt to take a short nap? Probably not.
She lay down across the soft moss, holding Elizabeth against her, and closed her eyes.
A wash of alarm brought her wide awake. She sat up, her heart pounding, and was instantly aware of presences nearby. Voices. The crunch of heavy feet in the underbrush.
Ruthy froze, trying not to move a muscle. Against her breast the baby stirred and whimpered.
*Don't cry, Elizabeth! Please don't cry!* Ruthy rocked the little form gently, trying to quell the knot of panic that gathered in her middle. Elizabeth stirred again and let out a short wail, which sounded like a thunderclap to Ruthy's straining ears. The noise of the searchers feet in the underbrush ceased abruptly.
"Didja hear that?" The man spoke in Basic.
"Sure did. Close by, too."
"Tune in your snooper. "
Ruthy glanced frantically around. There was nowhere to run -- nowhere to hide. The baby squirmed again and emitted another short protest.
"It's over there! C'mon!"
Ruthy leaped to her feet and ran.
There were shouts behind her and the crash of pursuing feet. Ruthy dashed on, clutching the baby against her, dodging trees, and making for the road. They were sure to catch her, since she couldn't move as fast now with the infant to carry, but she couldn't abandon Elizabeth. The men came after her relentlessly, and she saw that they were gaining.
She burst free of the trees, her pursuers only seconds behind her, and ran headlong across the meadow. The men emerged from the forest and one of them voiced a shout. An odd humming sensation washed over her, and static electricity prickled on her skin.
Her knees buckled as strength flowed out of her. She felt herself falling, and struggled against the encroaching darkness, crying out for help, but her voice was faint, hardly audible to her own ears, and in any case, there was no one to help.
Impossibly, help came. Another voice burst in her mind, loud, clear and close! "Hold on, honey! We're coming! Keep talking! Keep talking!"
There was reassurance in the voice, and an unspoken promise of protection. Ruthy raised her head, searching for the speaker, and saw the forms of the patrolmen coming up beside her. She cried out, flinching back uselessly, and crying out again for help. One of the men leaned down, caught her by the hair, and jerked her head up.
"Yeah, it's one of 'em." He lifted his hand and spoke into the small transmitter strapped to one wrist. "We got one of the Channin' kids, Sarge, an' she's got a baby with her. Looks like she might know where that damned Vogleman kid is. Home in on us while we make her tell."
Ruthy struggled against his imprisoning hands, still clutching the baby weakly. One of the men took the infant from her forcibly. Elizabeth shrieked.
"You let me go, you big ape!" Ruthy panted recklessly. "I'm not telling you anything!"
One of the men laughed shortly, pulled her roughly to her feet and started to push her back toward the trees. "Let's get outta sight, Raoul."
"Yeah," the other man said.
A humming sound brought their faces up. An aircar appeared, flying low across the treetops. Raoul voiced a short exclamation. "Move it!" he yelled.
They began to run. Ruthy struggled, hindering them all she could. The feeling was beginning to come back to her limbs, and her voice was working again. She screamed. "Hurry! Hurry! "
The aircar put on speed at once, roaring toward them, and losing altitude rapidly. It dove toward them with a scream of of engines and Ruthy saw her captors duck, trying to bring up their blasters.
A humming sound, much like the first, but louder and more intense seemed to course all through her. A jarring electrical shock jolted her nerves. Darkness came down
**********
Ruthy opened her eyes, aware of nausea and an overpowering headache. She tried to move, and felt the headache intensify unbearably. With a moan, she subsided, eyes closed.
"Take it easy, honey," a voice said, reassuringly. "Lie real still for a few minutes, or you'll be throwing up all over my car."
Ruthy obeyed. There was vibration beneath her, and the faint hum of engines. Memory returned with a jolt, she cried out, trying to lever herself up.
"Easy! Lie still or you'll be sick!" The command was firm but calm. "You're safe, little friend."
Ruthy took the advice, biting her lower lip and trying not to cry out with the intensity of the headache. "Where am I?" she managed.
A short laugh. "Traditional question. You're in an aircar, sweetie, and we're on our way to an Underground station. That okay with you?"
"What's...an Underground station?"
"We're the people that put those pamphlets in the post office and transport stations and doctor's offices, and anywhere else we can think of," the man's voice said. "We're from the Terran Underground. We save psychics from the Jilectans."
"Oh. The baby...."
"She's right here, and still out cold. Sorry we had to stun both of you along with those Viceregal goons, but there really wasn't much choice. In another ten seconds they'd have been under the trees, and we'd have had a real time finding you. Feeling better now?"
"Yes." Ruthy blinked up at him. The man speaking was young and blond -- barely more than a teenage kid, Ruthy thought. A closer look told her that he was probably older than her first impression, but he still seemed awfully young, and sudden doubt shook her. "Who are you? How did you find me?"
He answered her last question first. "We picked up the Voglemans' distress call last night and have been looking for the boy and the baby ever since. We think the parents must have been captured or killed. There's been no sign of them, and the boy, Eric, apparently stopped at a farmhouse sometime this afternoon and told the woman that lived there that he thought they were dead."
"They are," Ruthy said. "At least, he thinks so."
The man nodded. "The woman doubted his story, of course. Who wouldn't? But we didn't doubt. You see, we're psychics, too."
"You are?" Ruthy stared at her rescuer, then at the driver. The other man resembled the first closely. In fact, except for the different pattern of freckles, they were identical. Experimentally, she lifted her head again. This time the headache did not intensify and her stomach stayed in one place. Slowly and cautiously, she sat up. "You're really a psychic? Like Eric and me?"
"Yeah, we are." The man took her hand and shook it warmly. "I'm Alexander Trelewitz, and that's my twin brother, Andrew. Andy to his friends, and I'm Alex. You can call me Alex." He glanced down. "Here we are."
Below them was a small farmhouse, painted light blue, and surrounded by fruit trees. The car settled before it.
"You're really psychics?" Ruthy could still scarcely believe it. "Gosh, there must be lots of us around!"
"There are. Lots more than people realize. By the way, your family is here...that is, some of them. They're safe, and we're still looking for the rest. Come on inside and let your poor Mom know you're safe. She's been half out of her mind." He opened the aircar door and climbed out, pulled open the rear door and extended a hand to help Ruthy. Alex climbed out the other side, holding the baby in his arms. Elizabeth stirred and whimpered and then began to cry.
"Is this the Vogleman baby?" the man asked.
"Yes." Ruthy grimaced, recalling how sick she had felt when she had first awoken. "She must feel awful!"
"Stunbolts aren't as bad on kids," Alex told her, smoothing the fine dark hair on Elizabeth's head. "Poor little kid. She probably feels a little sick, but the younger you are, the less it affects you."
"Hope she doesn't spit up all over you," his brother said with a slight grin. He smiled at Ruthy. "She'll be fine in a few minutes, sweetie. Don't worry."
Alex nodded. Ruthy thought he looked a little nervous, but he ignored his brother and spoke to Ruthy. "You must have been in contact with Eric, then."
Ruthy hesitated. "Yes."
"Good. Where is he?"
Again Ruthy hesitated. Did she dare to tell them where Eric was? She liked them, and they seemed friendly, but might it not be possible that they were spies for the Patrol, placed here to get Eric's location out of her?
Alex seemed to read her mind. "You don't know if you can trust us, do you? Well, after all that's happened, I can't say I blame you. Come on inside. Your Mom will talk to you about it. Maybe she can convince you."
Ruthy swallowed. "Okay."
She went up the porch steps between them and Andrew opened the door for her. She entered a large living room.
"Ruthy!" Her sister, Becky, ran toward her. "Are you okay?"
"Yes." Ruthy clasped Becky's hands, then saw her mother and father hurrying toward her. "Mom! Daddy! "
Her mother caught her in a relieved embrace. "Ruthy! We were so worried! Where's Molly and Sam? Have you seen them?"
"Molly and Sam? No." Ruthy looked past her mother to her father. "Molly and Sam are missing?"
Her father nodded. "After you ran off, we looked for you for quite awhile. We went ahead and sent your sisters to school, though, figuring you'd come back when you were ready. Sam and your mother and I kept looking. That Lieutenant Rose guy--the one who got hit by the skunk--hung around for a while, but the others took off. After awhile, Rose left, too. We kept looking for you. About noon Rose showed up again, told us that we'd have to come with him to the station to file a missing person's report, and tried to get us to get in his car. I was suspicious of him by that time, and refused. Then a couple of his flunkies came along and began to get mean. They were just loading us in when Alex and Andy showed up and lent a hand. They brought us here, and we told 'em what had happened. Then they went looking for you and the others."
"We knew there was trouble," Alex said from the doorway. "One of our people picked up the trans com distress call sent out by the Vogleman boy. He said he was being chased by the Patrol, and that brought us out pronto. We were too late to help him, but we checked out his home and his neighbors and detected a psychic family living right next door -- and from the transmissions, the Patrol already there and suspicious of them. So we kept an eye on them, and sure enough, the troops were sent to collect 'em. That's when we stepped in."
"But Sam and Molly--"
"Sam wasn't there when we arrived. We suppose he's still out searching, and we haven't been able to trace him. I don't detect any more psychics in the immediate area around your house, but then, it's possible Sam isn't a psychic -- although all of you are. We still have people out trying to track him, but with all the kids in this area, and him probably not a psychic, that's going to be difficult. Can you tell me, Mrs. Channing, how tall he is?"
"How tall? What does that have to do with it?"
"Psychics are all fairly small people. How tall is Sam?"
"Uh...a smidge taller than my husband, but he's only sixteen. He'll probably grow some more."
The man nodded, "And your youngest daughter?"
"Molly? She's tiny - wears size 3 still, even though she's five years old."
"How did Molly get lost?" Ruthy asked.
"The Patrol made a try for us," Becky explained. "They were waiting when school let out. They tried to force us into their aircars. They told us that they were police, and that Mom and Dad had been in an accident. We knew they were lying, and fought them. Then Andy and Alex showed up. There was a bunch of shooting and stuff, and in the confusion Molly ran into the forest. I don't know where she went."
"We've been looking for her," Alex began. "We'll find her."
Mrs. Channing reached out and took the whimpering baby from Alex's arms. "Where did the baby come from?"
"This is Elizabeth," Ruthy explained. "Eric left her with me. Mrs. Vogleman is dead and the Patrol took his dad away. What's going to happen to Eric and Elizabeth?"
Her mother rocked the baby gently, biting her lip and then gave a sudden little nod. "I don't know what's going to happen to any of us," she said, "but Eric is almost part of the family. He can stay with us, and so can she." She cuddled the baby, still biting her lip. "I only hope Molly and Sam are all right."
"We've been monitoring the Patrol frequency," Alex said. "As far as we can tell, they haven't been picked up. We still have a chance to find them first. We'll do our best--" He broke off staring at Ruthy. "What's the matter?"
Ruthy wasn't listening. Loud and clear in her mind she heard Eric's voice, crying out in terror.
"Eric!" she screamed.
"Ruthy, what is it?"
"Eric!" She turned frantically on her father. "Daddy, Eric's in trouble. He went to the police to ask for help, and they've taken him prisoner!"
One of their rescuers said a four-letter word under his breath, then spoke to Ruthy. "Is he calling you for help?"
"Yes! Yes, I hear him in my mind!"
"Then you're partners?"
"Partners?" Ruthy was hardly listening. "I don't know what you mean." She pressed her hands over her ears. "We've got to go help him!" She started for the door.
One of the men caught her by the back of her sweatshirt. "Just a minute. You say he went to the police station in town?"
"Yes! Oh, please, I've got to go!"
"Sure, but we're going with you."
Mrs. Channing turned toward him. "She's not going!"
"She has to." Alex stepped forward. "Mrs. Channing, we need her. She's the Vogleman boy's partner--his psychic partner, and that's how he's communicating with her from this distance. I know that's a little hard to understand but it's real and important. We've got to take Ruthy with us."
Elizabeth began to whimper. Mrs. Channing rocked her automatically, protesting. "Ruthy's only eleven! How could she--"
"We don't have time to argue right now. Come on, Ruthy."
"No! You can't! I--"
Mr. Channing put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Lillian, these men know what they're doing. If they say they need Ruthy to come, then they do. If it was Ruthy who was on her way to the Jils, and they needed Eric to help, you'd want him to go."
"But...." Mrs. Channing subsided, patting Elizabeth on the back, although her face was still contorted with worry. "All right. Please take care of her."
"We will," Alex said. "Promise, Mrs. Channing. Come on, Ruthy."
Ruthy ran between the two brothers out of the house and down the steps to the aircar.
**********
The trip to the police station seemed endless. Ruthy sat between Alex and Andrew wringing her hands in her lap. Eric's fear and distress reached her plainly, and she tried to respond, to send back words of comfort and reassurance. *We're coming, Eric. It'll be all right. I'm bringing help!*
He didn't seem to be hearing her. Ruthy swallowed hard. Fear--overwhelming terror reached her. Eric's consciousness seemed to fill her, and she cried out, biting her knuckles in frustration and despair. "Hurry! Please, we've got to hurry!"
"There's the station below us," Andy said.
"And here they come," Alex said. The car swooped downward.
Ruthy saw Eric being led toward the car. He was sobbing, and his voice reached her clearly, although he was still some fifty meters away. Two large, muscular men walked on either side of him, supporting him solicitously. Eric was fighting them furiously. One of the men released him and leaned forward to open the door of an official vehicle. A crowd had gathered and was watching, the people speaking softly to one another.
"Damn!" Andrew sent the car down in a sweeping dive over the little scenario. Ruthy leaned out the window, concentrating on the fellow still holding Eric.
She had done this before -- made people see things that she wished them to see. It was easy. All she had to do was envision the picture and push it toward the person's mind....
She formed the scene in her thoughts -- a scene she had witnessed at a circus many years ago. It had been terrifying, and she had never forgotten it--a maddened elephant charging, trunk raised, ears spread wide, tusks gleaming, eyes red. In her mind she sounded the noise of the animal's trumpet. She had to scare that man holding Eric -- to terrify him into forgetting about her friend for a few vital seconds.
The fellow's head jerked up and he voiced a shout of terror. Releasing his prisoner, he jerked the blaster from its holster, bringing it up to point at what he thought he saw. The weapon spat at the image twice and the crowd scattered, screaming. Eric's captor fired twice more, then flipped the setting on the blaster. His companion shouted something and made a grab for him just as the weapon roared. A sheet of flame mushroomed from the muzzle of the weapon.
"What in blazes?" Alex stared in bewilderment at the scene as Andrew brought the car out of its dive, also gaping sideways at the confusion below.
"Eric!" Ruthy screamed. "Andy, get Eric! He's running!"
The driver's head came around in the direction of her pointing finger. Eric was running across the street away from his captors, feet flying. The scene below had dissolved into chaos as the people closest to the drama tried to flee, while others converged from all directions, and more figures came running from the police station. People fought to get past the other bodies pressing toward the scene to see what had happened. The somewhat orderly crowd had dissolved into a mass of struggling, screaming, swearing humanity.
The flame from the emergency maximum blast had struck a parked police car, which was now blazing cheerfully. The car's alarm was going off deafeningly, and from somewhere nearby a siren began to wail.
Alex spun their car around, his way now blocked by other vehicles whose drivers had slowed to watch the drama. Eric scrambled over a parked groundcar and dodged into an alley. Alex muttered under his breath, trying to follow. "Damn! I'm going to have to set us down somewhere, but where?"
"You'll have to get out of this jam, first, and that's not going to be easy." Andrew spoke to Ruthy. "Can you call him -- tell him to hold up?"
"I'm trying," Ruthy said tearfully. "He's too scared."
Alex swore softly and maneuvered the car cautiously through the jammed traffic. "Keep trying. Man! Did you see that 'trol, Andy? What the devil was he shooting at, anyway?"
"I can't imagine. He just seemed to go crazy for no reason. Looked like he was seeing something no one else could...." His words trailed off and he turned to look at Ruthy. "Honey," he began, and paused uncertainly. "Did you...I mean--"
"I did it." Ruthy nodded absently. "I've done that lots of times. I made him see an elephant charging him. Where's Eric? I can't see him now."
"An illusionist!" Alex's voice was delighted. "Andy, we've got us an illusionist!"
"Yeah!" Andrew sounded as pleased as his brother. "You say you've done that before, Ruthy?"
"Yes...all my life." Ruthy wasn't paying attention to the conversation. They had reached the alley where Eric had vanished, but he was now nowhere to be seen. "I just think of a picture and sort of push it toward the person." Rapidly she formed the image of a large Siamese cat lying on the dashboard and nudged the image toward the man on her left. Andrew jumped and drew in his breath in a surprised gasp.
"Well! I'll be switched! Do you see it, Alex?"
"See what?" Alex asked.
"The cat on the dashboard."
Feeling pleased, in spite of her concern for Eric, Ruthy withdrew the image from Andrew and sent it toward Alex. The driver jerked convulsively. "What th'--?"
"It's gone now," Andy said, sounding awed. "Man! I've never seen anything so clearly in my life, and I didn't even feel you do it! That's great!"
"Only one person at a time, though, huh?" Alex took his eyes off the image of the cat and glanced at Ruthy. She nodded, releasing the illusion and letting it fade from her mind.
"Man! That's terrific!" Alex turned the corner and peered around searching for Eric. "Illusionists are rare as snakes' wings. Now, where the devil did that kid disappear to?"
"He probably went into the sewers," Ruthy said. "We sometimes play down there. They run everywhere under the city."
"Oh great," Alex said unenthusiastically. "Can you show us the entrance?"
She nodded. "It's not far. Can you park us somewhere?"
"Yeah." The driver maneuvered the car over to the side of the street and settled it into a parking space.
**********
tbc
