Plague: 7/?
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
Chapter IV
It was a ragged gap in a rocky wall that loomed suddenly ahead, half-covered by trees, vines and creepers. Without hesitation, Mai Wing led the rush inside, and the Jilectan followed, surrounded by the other Terrans. Mai Wing turned back, her blaster gripped before her in both hands, and aimed at the entrance. Fong also turned and dropped to one knee, his blaster aimed at the opening.
Outside, there was a sharp rustle of underbrush near the cave mouth, and a short, crooning howl and then silence. Mai Wing drew a shaking breath.
"I don't think they'll come in after us." Her whisper shook.
"Trev! Give me the emergency kit!" Jason's voice cut across the sounds of their panting breaths. The boy was kneeling beside Blashvor, pulling the cap he wore to protect his head from the elements off, to reveal the alien's flattened, blond curls.
Trevor produced the emergency kit from his pack and handed it to Jason. "How bad is it?"
"Scratches mostly, I think," Jason said. He cleaned the cut on Blashvor's cheek and another one at his hairline with quick, sure strokes. Blashvor sat still, back against the cave wall, his eyes closed. He didn't move as the boy finished cleaning the two deeper cuts and moved on to the abrasion on his forehead.
Fong lowered his blaster, slowly, and glanced at Mai Wing.
She met his gaze and he didn't miss the brief flicker of hostility in her eyes, quickly veiled. She turned away, sliding her blaster beneath her coat as she did so, and crossed the rocky cave floor to Jason and Blashvor.
Fong watched her, a hard lump settling somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach. Dammit! He knew what he had just witnessed. Psychic ability employed with precision and skill. The telekinesis had probably been Jason, but Mai Wing had sensed the animals' approach even before the Jil, and she had known that safety lay only a short distance away in the cave. Everything pointed to the probability that she was one of the outlawed Terran psychics.
But it might not be true, he told himself again, aware that he was rationalizing. Given that Jason was almost certainly a Terran psychic, working for the Jilectan pirate, what actual proof did he have that Mai Wing was anything but a Terran woman trained in survival and the use of weapons? Maybe she had been in Terra's armed forces. That could explain a lot.
He was rationalizing again, the logical part of his brain informed him coolly, while the emotional part still sought for excuses. Mai Wing's senses were too acute. How could she have possibly known of the cave's location? It was impossible!
Unless she was a clairvoyant.
She was kneeling beside Jason, helping him to apply bandages to Blashvor's wounds. She didn't glance at Jason, but he wondered if they were speaking silently in the language of the psychics -- telepathy.
Another crooning howl sounded outside the cave. Trevor moved to Fong's side, looking out into the masses of greenery and snow, blaster prominently in his hand. He turned his head to speak to the Jilectan.
"We'd better move back, sir. We're too much of a temptation for them where we are."
"Quite true." Blashvor got to his feet, moving easily, and ruffled Jason's hair gently. "I am not hurt, my little Terran, At least not seriously. You may relax now."
Jason flashed him a grin. "That's a relief, sir. If you croaked, I wouldn't have anybody to beat at chess."
The Jilectan aimed a playful cuff at him. He dodged easily, still grinning. Fong watched in amazement. Jilectans just didn't act that way toward the lower species! He'd never seen a Jil treat a Terran so, and for a Terran child to blithely joke with a Jil ...!
Trevor led the way deeper into the cave. It widened as they proceeded and Fong could hear the sound of water gurgling somewhere ahead. The Jilectan walked three paces behind the ex-patrolman and the other Terrans kept pace. The rocky, irregular corridor curved farther on, blocking out the light from the entrance. Trevor flicked on his hand light. "This looks like a good spot to stop."
"Correct, Trevor." The Jilectan stopped. Fong surveyed their new campsite appreciatively -- a cliff of rock, projecting outward over a flattened area, flanked on both sides by stalactites. The walls dripped moisture and somewhere beyond, not far away, came the gurgle of water. Fong flicked his own light around and saw the underground stream slithering across rocks and sand, to vanish beneath a low, limestone roof farther on.
Jason let his pack drop to the ground. Trevor did the same and then rummaged in it to remove a tiny, portable heater, which was standard equipment in any decent survival pack. Its range was not far, but it would serve to keep them reasonably warm while they camped in this underground shelter. He activated it, and Fong watched the small, atomic powered unit start to glow redly in the gloom. Blashvor at once moved forward and held out his hands to the warmth.
Mai Wing also moved closer to the heater. She had removed her gloves, Fong saw, and and she held out her slim, lovely hands to the heat. He saw her glance sideways at Jason and smile. The boy grinned back and again Fong felt the sharp twinge of jealousy. The friendly spark had somehow gone out of their relationship since this morning when that aircar and those maintenance workers had appeared.
"Hey, Fong," Trevor said, breaking in on his glum musings. "Look in your pack. I think you've got the lamp."
"Huh? Oh." Fong obeyed and produced a portable atomic powered lantern, which he set on a shelf of rock above them. The warm, yellow light spread over them, illuminating a wider circle of the rock floor than the hand lights.
"I think we should explore a little deeper into the cave, M'Lord." Trevor turned around, facing the seated alien. "Those things might hang around a while, hoping we'll come out that way, so maybe we can find another way out."
"Possibly, Trevor." Blashvor reclined beside the heating unit. "You and Fong will go."
"M'Lord!" It was Jason. "Please, may I go, too?"
The Jilectan frowned, and then gave a very Terran shrug. "Very well, but I do not wish to remain here alone. You will not go with them, Miss Wing."
"But, sir --"
"There are no arguments. You will remain here."
For an instant, Fong thought she would deny the order and he grimaced inwardly. But an instant later his fears were stilled. Mai Wing inclined her head obediently. "Yes, sir."
Breathing an inner sigh of relief, Fong turned and fell in beside Trevor and Jason. The ex-patrolman was obviously the leader of their group, for he nodded at the flowing water. "We'll head downstream. That way we can't get lost, and we're more likely to locate a place where it comes out."
"Unless it goes underground." Jason said.
"It might," Trevor agreed, "but there's only one way to find out."
The long, narrow passage followed the stream, winding and twisting past rock formations of incredible beauty. Jason stared around, awe-struck. "Man! Look up there!" He pointed upward. "That one looks sort of like Lady Dishvill's head!"
Fong followed the boy's pointing finger and was astounded. The rock formation, carved by generations upon countless generations of water drops did indeed resemble the aristocratically molded features and flowing hair of a Lady Jilectan. Trevor grunted. "Looks more like her husband."
Jason giggled. "Well, they were first cousins, you know."
"So M'Lord's informed us, Y'know, Shorty, sometimes I think he -- Lord Blashvor, that is -- must have had the hots for that Lady sometime or other." He glanced down at the boy. "I mean she's an awful good-looking Lady, crazy or not."
Jason didn't answer. Trevor grinned. "I'm right, aren't I?"
"I think so," Jason said reluctantly. "But he'll never admit it."
"Of course not. I wonder what happened, though. Somehow, I can't see any Lady picking Dishvor over Blashvor."
"But you're not a Jil Lady," Jason pointed out.
Trevor chuckled. "You've got that right. When did you notice?"
Fong laughed and then sobered. "Aren't you two afraid to discuss a Jilectans private affairs like this? I mean, won't he punish you if he finds out?"
Jason glanced at him briefly. "Blashvor's not sensitive about his love life."
"He *isn't*?"
Jason looked surprised. "Should he be? He's got three wives and eight mistresses."
"Oh."
"Beautiful Ladies, too. Right, Trev?"
"Watch it, Shorty. Your day'll come." Trevor grinned faintly. "Yeah, they are."
"And Blalshvor's very secure about his masculinity -- something I think a lot of Jils aren't." Jason sobered. "He isn't interested in me for that reason, Strike Commander."
Trevor laughed. "Did you think *that*?, Fong? *Blashvor*?"
Fong felt himself turning red. "Well -- I mean --"
"He means," Jason said, "that that was one of the possible reasons that occurred to him, that M'Lord drags me around with him."
Fong felt his jaw drop. Jason had taken the thoughts right out of his head.
"But there's another possible reason," Jason continued, calmly. "And he's pretty sure he's right on that one." He grinned. "And he's getting surer by the minute."
Trevor also paused, watching Fong expressionlessly. Fong cleared his throat. "Uh … I don't --"
"Oh, yes you do," Jason said, sounding amused. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."
Trevor stepped over beside Jason. "Don't get any stupid ideas, Fong."
Fong swallowed. "Then, it's true. You *are* a Terran psychic, working for a Jilectan pirate."
"Exactly," Jason said.
"But he -- he treats you so well."
"Why shouldn't he?"
"A Terran *psychic*? All the Jils I've known hate Terran psychics."
"That's because they're afraid of us. Blashvor's not afraid of me."
"Are you the only one he has?"
"Nope. There's three others."
"He isn't afraid you'll join forces against him?"
Jason looked shocked. "Why would we do that? Terran psychics without a Jil's protection tend to die young in the present day society. Blashvor's our security. Without him, I'd be dead, most likely, and Fenton would be for sure."
Fong swallowed. "Why did you admit to me that you're a psychic?"
"You already knew. At least, you were 99% certain."
"Oh."
"So why keep up the charade?"
"I'm supposed to try to bring you in, you know."
"You'll have to beat Blashvor to do it." The boy grinned. "And Trev, too. Think you're up to it?"
"I could stun Trevor, and take you prisoner, right now."
"Try it," Trevor suggested.
Fong laughed. "No, thanks. Even if I succeeded, which I doubt, you'd call Blashvor telepathically and I'd have him stalking me through this blasted cave."
"Thought you might figure that out," Jason said, demurely. "You're not dumb."
Fong glanced at Trevor. "Don't worry. You and your little friend are safe."
"Safer than you are right now," Trevor growled.
Jason put a hand on Trevor's sleeve. "Let's get going," he suggested. "M'Lord'll be waiting."
Trevor glanced warningly at Fong and started on again, following the stream. Fong fell in behind him, his thoughts whirling. So it was true. His suspicions about Jason had proven correct.
And what about his suspicions about Mai Wing? Jason would know. He must. He was a psychic. Fong could ask him -- if Jason would tell him.
"I smell something." Jason's words brought Fong back to the immediate situation. He sniffed. Jason was right. Clear in the still, cold air, the odor of decaying meat was unmistakable. Trevor had paused, looking straight at Jason.
"Think we should go on, kid?" he asked.
"Yes." Jason's reply was prompt. "I don't sense anything, and something dead down here would take a long time to rot. The temperature can't be much above freezing."
"Okay." Again, Trevor led the way. The odor grew stronger and suddenly warmth touched their faces. Ahead, a puff of steam emerged from a side passage.
"Well, well, what have we here?" Trevor moved forward and flashed his light into the aperture. He grunted in surprise. "Hey! Looks like a hot spring in there! Smells powerfully of sulfur, too. Maybe that's all we're sniffing."
"No." Jason shook his head and shuddered. "It's coming from up ahead." He took a step closer to the ex-patrolman. "Something's wrong here."
Fong looked quickly at him. "I don't suppose you know what it is."
A slight shake of the head. Trevor rested a hand on Jason's shoulder. "You stay here, Shorty. Fong and I will go investigate."
"No!" Jason's hand shot out to clutch Trevor's arm.
"Okay. Stay behind me." Trevor gripped his blaster and spoke to Fong. "Stay on your toes, Strike Commander. Jason doesn't put out false alarms."
Fong nodded, feeling a prickle run across his scalp. They went slowly forward, blasters held at the ready. The air grew gradually warmer as they proceeded, and the smell more overpowering. Steam puffed gently from more cave openings that they passed. They rounded a bend in the passage and stopped.
They had reached the source of the odor. The motionless bodies of patrolmen littered the floor of the cave before them.
**********
tbc
