Plague: 6/?
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
Fong bent to coax the dying campfire back to life, once more. Jason dropped a stack of branches beside him and turned away to collect more. Mai Wing, he saw, was collapsing the tents and rolling them efficiently into tiny bundles that would fit into the survival packs. She seemed amazingly skilled at her task, Fong noted. She had brought down the second tech, he recalled now, and she and Jason had apparently blasted the globe thing. Jason had said that he had accidentally hit the aircar, but apparently Mai Wing hadn't. She apparently knew how to aim and fire a blaster, She'd kept her head and hadn't run screaming as many women might have under the same circumstances.
Again, he heard the Jilectans scornful voice: "And you call yourself a Strike Commander!"
The Jilectan had also asked Mai Wing questions as though he expected her to have the answers about the globe. And apparently she had known some of them. And Blashvor evidently suspected that she knew more than she revealed. Why hadn't the Jil simply read her mind and extracted the information?
Unless he couldn't read her mind. Maybe, Fong thought, he wasn't a telepath.
No, that couldn't be. He had picked up Fong's sudden memory of the Skelzir globe, and he had read Fong's mind the night before. Unless he was an empath. He'd never heard of a Jil being an empath, but there were rumors that they existed. But Blashvor sure didn't act like an empath, so that was probably out.
Well, maybe Mai Wing was a natural shielder.
Or maybe she was an Underground agent and had been trained to shield her mind.
He banished the thought. If she was an Underground agent, then she was an enemy of the Jilectan Autonomy, and it was Fong's duty to bring her to justice. No, she couldn't be an Undergrounder.! She was probably just a person with natural shielding. A lot of people were.
Well, maybe not a lot, but some. A scattered few throughout the Terran population. She could be one of them.
"Snap out of it, Strike Commander!" Jason's voice made him jump. "Get that fire going before he gets annoyed."
Fong shook himself and put the lighter to the wood.
Jason hadn't moved on. He stood diffidently watching as Fong coaxed the fire into life, watching him enigmatically.
"Don't worry, Strike Commander," he said suddenly.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"About Miss Wing."
"I'm not!"
Jason gave him a knowing look. "Sure you're not." He circled the fire to where Trevor squatted, rummaging through one of the packs. "Got the steaks cut, Trev?"
The former patrolman grunted. "Yeah." He nodded to where five chunks of meat lay in the snow and removed the frying pan from the pack. "You want to cook these, Strike Commander?"
"Only if you like burned steaks."
Trevor gave a bark of laughter. "Guess I'd better do it, then."
"You know what they say," Fong said, dryly. "Officers make the important decisions. The fate of the universe, interspecies policy, foreign relations. You guys make the little ones."
"Yeah. Like what to cook for breakfast."
"Exactly," Fong said.
They ate the morning meal quickly, though no one except Blashvor appeared to have much of an appetite. When they finished, the Terrans quickly cleared and packed up the eating implements and shouldered their packs once more. Fong straightened up and caught Mai Wing's eyes on him. There was a look in them that he hadn't seen before and which he found strangely disquieting. It was almost as if some of the trust that he had grown accustomed to was suddenly gone. She turned hastily away, speaking softly to Jason. The boy looked up at her and flashed a grin. Trevor, passing with the last of the emergency blankets, also spoke softly to her. Fong saw her nod and smile faintly. Hot jealousy boiled up in Fong. They were all against him! Why? Because he was a 'trol -- that much, at least, was obvious.
Only, Mai Wing hadn't seemed to mind before. Why did she mind now?
"Come, Terrans!" Blashvor said, and led the way into the evergreen forest.
Fong tramped morosely along behind Trevor, his gaze fixed on the ground before him. Damn! What was the matter with him? Was his ego so frail that he crumpled at the first hint of rejection from a silly Terran girl? He didn't care what she thought of him! If she didn't like 'trols, then that was her problem, not his!
She came softly up beside him and one small hand slipped into his big one. He glanced at her and saw her smile.
"You okay?" she whispered.
He nodded. "You?"
"Yes, fine." Her voice fell even lower. "Lee, he didn't read me. I expected him to, but he didn't."
"Why didn't you just tell him what he wanted to know?"
She looked down. "I didn't know anything else. He wouldn't have found out much." She glanced uneasily at the Jilectans big form ahead of them. "You know, you hear so many things about Westover when you live on Terra. I mean, I've heard a dozen different stories about how he was supposed to have destroyed that thing. I'm sure none of them are true."
"Why didn't you just tell him that?"
"Would he have believed me?"
"I think so. He's a Jil. He'd know if you were lying, unless you've got mind shields or something."
The words were out before he could stop them and their effect was instantaneous. Mai Wing let go of his hand.
"So, you think I'm an Undergrounder?" she whispered furiously.
"Mai, I didn't say that."
"No, but you're thinking it! Of course you're thinking it! And what are you going to do if I am? Turn me in to the Jils?"
"Mai, I know you aren't an Undergrounder."
"But I'm shielded, remember? I must be an Undergrounder and you're a 'trol! All right, Mr. Strike Commander, arrest me! You might as well do it now! If you don't, your bosses will see what happened and you'll be in the soup!"
"Knock it off!" he said, a little defensively. "I know you aren't an Undergrounder."
"And how do you know that, Strike Commander?"
"Well, for one thing, I don't know any Undergrounder who would be stupid enough to make friends with a 'trol!"
Inadvertently, he had raised his voice and he saw Trevor glance back, a faint grin on his lips. Quickly, Fong moderated his voice again. "Besides, why would the Underground send out a pretty little thing like you, unprotected --"
'Unless you're a psychic,' he thought. But if Mai Wing was a Terran psychic, where was her partner? Most Underground psychics worked in pairs. Mai Wing had been alone. No, of course she couldn't be a psychic.
Except that, in spite of her frail appearance, she seemed remarkably capable of taking care of herself. If he looked at it logically, none of his theories were really foolproof. Sometimes Undergrounders worked alone, and besides, how did he know she had really been alone? Maybe her partner had been on the ship and they had been separated in the confusion.
And Underground agents, even frail-appearing females, often displayed amazing courage and endurance when faced with an emergency, and twice now, Mai Wing had displayed her ability to deal with emergencies that had faced them ....
What was he *thinking?*
But she was smiling at him and her hand once again slipped into his. "I'm sorry, Lee. I'm just upset, I guess. I've never seen a Jil before, and now one of them is taking such an ... interest in me. It's kind of scary. You know, I've heard that sometimes Jil Lords ... go for Terran women."
Fong felt himself go red at the mere suggestion. "He better not try anything like that! Not while *I'm* here."
Again, inadvertently, he had raised his voice. He saw Trevor's shoulders shake slightly and quickly lowered his voice again. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you."
Her hand tightened in his. "I know you will, Lee."
Jason and Blashvor were playing mental chess again, and Fong tried half-heartedly to follow their moves. Blashvor was winning this time, from the sound of things.
"King to queen's knight two," Jason said.
"Bishop to king's bishop four," Blashvor responded. "I believe I have you, little Terran."
"I believe you do too, sir. Queen's pawn to queen six."
"Queen to king's rook six. Check."
Mai Wing's hand tightened on Fong's arm. He glanced down at her. "What is it?"
"I ... think I hear something."
Fong glanced uneasily around. The ground on which they were walking had become a gradual slope, thick with the evergreen-type trees. The air was colder, too, and dryer, and the snow was a dry powder under their feet. He listened, but except for the sighing of the trees and the faint crunch of snow beneath their boots, all was still.
Jason stopped and Blashvor came to a a halt beside him. The Jilectans head was cocked as though listening to something. He turned abruptly to Trevor. "An animal of some kind is stalking us," he announced.
Trevor drew the blaster from his holster, looking quickly at his master. "What is it, sir?"
"I do not know. It is quite savage, however, and intends to make a meal of us."
Jason touched the Jilectan's arm and whispered something. Mai Wing turned her head to look back. "There's more than one of them!" she said. "I can hear others!"
"You are quite correct, Terran." Blashvor was also gripping a blaster in one large hand. "There is a pack of them, and it is getting closer."
Fong swallowed. "M'Lord?"
"Yes, Strike Commander?"
"Could I please have an energy cell for my blaster? You never did tell Trevor to return it -- after what happened this morning."
The Jilectan nodded. "Trevor, return the cell."
Trevor handed it to Fong who rapidly inserted it into his weapon.
"Coming closer." He caught Jason's whispered words and saw Trevor glance apprehensively behind them. Blashvor spoke suddenly.
"Protect him, Trevor!"
"Yes, M'Lord."
Fong, puzzled, glanced at Mai Wing. She wasn't looking at him, her gaze on the underbrush to the left and a little to the left of them.
Suspicion welled up in him again. He still could hear nothing, but it was plain that she did.
No one's hearing was that good. Fong had been tested by the Patrol every year since his enlistment twenty years ago. His hearing, he was, he had been informed, extremely acute. His eyesight was excellent. So why did both Jason and Mai Wing appear to have senses superior to his own?
Blashvor shoved Jason behind him with one large hand. Trevor glanced quickly at the boy. "Which direction, Shorty?" The words were very, very low, but Fong heard them.
Jason pointed in the direction of Mai Wing's fixed gaze. Man! Being a psychic in a situation like this would be an advantage, he thought, and was instantly appalled with himself. If he had been born a psychic, he would be dead now. Bright, Fong; very bright.
Jason yelled and leaped forward, hitting the Jilectan at the back of the knees. Taken by surprise, Blashvor landed on his hands and knees in the snow. A creature flew past in the spot where he had been only a fraction of a second before. It's huge, furry body clipped Jason, hurling him to a sitting position on the snowy, forest floor.
Two more of the creatures charged from concealment, and Fong had a confused impression of shaggy dog-like creatures with huge, snarling mouths and slashing claws. One of them wheeled and lunged toward him.
Mai Wing's blaster cracked, catching the thing in the face and flinging it backwards. The Jilectan screamed and Fong jerked around to see the creature that had led the charge now flinging itself on Lord Blashvor.
The Jilectan fell, the creature on top of him. The alien's jewel-studded blaster spun away, swooped upward, descended in a graceful arc and landed in Jason's hands. The boy fired and Trevor's blaster cracked at the same time. The attacking animal was flung from its victim to sprawl limply in the snow. The remaining attacker turned and fled. Trevor fired a shot after it as it vanished once more into the underbrush.
From the concealment issued a chorus of howls, which slowly diminished and ceased.
"Lord Blashvor!" Jason was scrambling forward on hands and knees to kneel beside his master. "Sir! Are you hurt?"
The Jilectan groaned. Trevor went down on one knee beside him and slipped an arm beneath Blashvor's shoulders. "Are you hurt, sir?" He strained, and managed to get his boss into a sitting position. He sounded concerned, but not so frightened as Jason.
"Oh!" It was Mai Wing. "We've got to go! Listen to them!" The howls had commenced once more. "They're angry because we killed their leader! We have to go, now!"
"She's right!" Jason pulled on Blashvor's arm. "Get up, sir! Quick!"
Fong ran to help. Together he and Trevor pulled Blashvor upright. The Jilectan had a bad scrape over one eye and a cut on his left cheek. Blood ran from it, dripping off his chin.
"This way!" Mai Wing pointed left. "Hurry!"
They ran forward, following her. Blashvor recovered quickly and pulled his arms free in one quick, lithe motion. They had covered perhaps fifty meters when the cave came into view.
**********
tbc
