Slave Race: 13/?
by Nan Smith and Linda Garrick
"Real pretty. Nice kid."
"That's all?"
Ed grinned. "What am I supposed to think of her?"
Cory looked embarrassed. "Do you think I'm too old for her?"
Ed laughed. "How old is she?"
"She says she's eighteen, but I think she's fibbing."
"You think she's younger?"
"Yeah."
"Cradle robber. An ancient thirty-one year old like you wooing this sweet, young thing..."
"Ed!" Edwin felt a hard, telekinetic poke in his ribs. "Stop that! I want your honest opinion."
Edwin sobered. "I don't think her age matters at all. It's the fact that she's Lady Gootishville's servant that you need to worry about."
"Aw!" Cory shrugged that off. "What's old Lady Goot care?"
"Lady Goot's a jealous bitch."
"Yeah, but we're Terrans. Why should it worry her if a couple of Terrans like each other?"
"Just don't get her pregnant, Cor."
Cory grinned broadly. "Get your mind out of the gutter, pal."
"I know you, Cor."
"Not well enough, apparently. The young lady means more to me than just sex. So, you like her, too?"
"Sure." Edwin watched his friend, feeling a little uneasy. "So, what are you going to do?"
Cory shrugged. "Nothing. What can I do?"
"What do you *want* to do?"
His friend grinned, looking a little wistful. "I don't know, and it doesn't matter, anyway. Lady Gootishville won't give me any options." He stood up suddenly. "Something's wrong."
"What?"
Cory moved suddenly, grabbed Edwin''s wrist and yanked him out the door. It slid shut behind them, and Cory threw Edwin flat on the deck, covering his friend's body with his own. From within their apartment came a reverberating explosion. An alarm began to blare and pirates materialized from nowhere. Ed and Cory were pulled upright and rushed away down the corridor.
"What was it?" Edwin gasped.
Cory was too breathless to answer, but one of the pirates grasping his arm spoke up. "Must've been one hell of a meteorite."
"That was a meteor?"
"Must've been."
Another pirate spoke up. "There was massive decompression in you kids' apartment. Something must've gone right through the bulkhead. If you hadn't gotten out, you'd have been sucked right out. What happened? Cory warn you?"
"Yeah." Edwin glanced over at his friend. They reached the engine room in the protected inner portion of the ship and the doors closed behind them.
Lord Comishvor and Ladies Gootishville and Frishville were already there. Comishvor was beside them at once. "I see you were warned in time to get out. Any injuries?"
Edwin shook his head. "No, M'lord. Was it just our apartment that was hit?"
"Apparently." Comishvor heaved a sigh of relief and drew Lady Frishville over beside him. "I have good news, my psychics."
"M'lord?"
"My Lady Frishville has informed me that she is carrying my child."
Out of the corner of his eye, Edwin saw Lady Gootishville turn away, hatred mirrored in her face. He could feel it directed toward himself, Cory, and Lady Frishville. He turned quickly toward his master, forcing a smile. "Congratulations, sir."
Comishvor smiled proudly, put an arm around Lady Frishville, and turned away.
Cory came up quietly beside him. "Well, I'll bet Lady Gootishville really loves me now."
"Be real careful, Cor. What do you want to bet that was no meteor?"
"Yes, but she'll have rigged it somehow so it looks like a meteor. There'll be no traces of her work."
"Cory, we've got to get away. We'd be safer on our own than we are with her after us."
"Ed!" Cory glanced quickly at Comishvor.
"It's true, isn't it?"
"Yeah. But how?"
"Look, Cor, if one of us does manage to get away, we've got to arrange a rendezvous point."
Cory turned discreetly away. "How about our old hideout?"
"He might think to look there."
"Yeah. Still, Franik's the place we both know best."
"How about our first hideout?"
Edwin grimaced. "Think it's still standing?"
"I don't know. I..."
"What are you discussing, Edwin?"
Ed jumped and turned guiltily. Comishvor was standing directly behind him, blue eyes intent and suspicious.
"M... M'lord?"
"What were you discussing with Cornelius?"
"Why, we..." his explanation stuck in his throat and he took a step back, Cory beside him. Comishvor came lightly forward and he reached out to grasp the two psychics by the wrists. He shoved them back hard against a bulkhead. The other pirates stared.
"Shields down, Edwin. Shields down, Cornelius."
Helplessly, Ed complied. He felt Comishvor's powerful psychic probe invade his thoughts, and waited for the anger which must follow. But Comishvor, after a long, awful moment, dropped their wrists, and his telepathic voice spoke briefly in Edwin's mind.
*You will come to my apartments, both of you.*
Edwin bowed and Cory emulated him. The all clear whistle sounded indicating the aperture caused by the supposed meteor had been repaired. Comishvor turned and went out in a swirl of robes. The two Terran psychics hurried after him.
They entered his quarters at his gesture and Comishvor allowed the door to slide shut behind them. Then he faced them, a thin, hard smile on his lips.
"So," he spoke quietly, "you have been considering escape?"
"M'lord," began Edwin desperately, "M'lady Gootishville..."
"Has been harassing Cornelius. Yes, I know."
Edwin was silent. Cory looked acutely uncomfortable. M'lord spoke again.
"I shall reprimand her once more. However, I fail to see how she could have been responsible for this most recent occurrence. A meteor..."
"Did the scans indicate we were passing near a meteor shower, sir?" Edwin interrupted with a deplorable lack of good manners.
"Not that I am aware of, but..."
"It was a bomb, sir, and she didn't care if she got both of us with it. In fact, I think she was sort of hoping she would."
Silence for a moment. Then, "How do you know this?"
"I just know, sir."
"There is no proof."
"When your psychic tells you something, sir, do you usually demand proof?"
Again silence. Comishvor frowned and slowly turned away. "Sooo..." He absently stroked his left eyebrow with his forefinger. "It is difficult to believe she could be so foolish. She has been warned three times."
"She knows you won't touch her, sir," Edwin said. "You're an honorable Jilectan, and honorable Jilectans treat their wives well, no matter how little they deserve it!"
Comishvor frowned at him. "Be careful, Edwin. I will not have you slandering my Lady."
Edwin plunged on recklessly, in spite of Cory's telekinetic nudge. "She doesn't care anymore about making you angry, sir. She's lost her power over you when Cory brought Lady Frishville back."
Comishvor's hand raised. Edwin stood his ground. "It's true, sir! She doesn't care, and some day she's going to kill Cory or me, or both of us, and you'll have to go looking for another psychic!"
Comishvor seized him and thrust him back hard against a bulkhead, feet dangling a meter from the deck. "And that I could do, Edwin, very easily. Terran psychics are not so very difficult to secure." He shook the Terran hard, then dropped him. Edwin staggered, then regained his footing. Comishvor continued without pause. "Never forget, Edwin, you live only through my sufferance. I owe you nothing, and if you become inconvenient, I shall dispose of you. Go, now, and do not consider escape again!"
Breathless, Edwin went past the Jilectan to the door. Cory accompanied him, glancing apprehensively at Comishvor. The pirate did not return his glance, gaze fixed on an ornate hanging over the dressing table. Edwin went out, and Cory followed, closing the door.
"Whew!" whispered his friend. "Ed, have you gone crazy?"
"Maybe," said Edwin, feeling his face flame with anger now that the danger was past. "The unreasonable son of a..."
"Sh!" Cory took his arm. "Come on, let's see what's left of our quarters."
Most of their belongings, they found, had been sucked out in the decompression, which had followed the explosion. Servants were there, sweeping up the mess and salvaging what they could. A Procyon met them at the door.
"You are to be moved," he informed them expressionlessly. "We have just received orders that your belongings are to be taken to the apartment directly acrosh from M'lord's."
*It figures*, Edwin said telepathically to Cory.
*He wants to have us where he can keep an eye on us.* Cory's mental reply sounded resigned and faintly humorous. *And Lady Gootishville's right across the corridor.*
*Letting us know who's boss,* Edwin remarked.
Cory sighed and swore under his breath.
Their new apartment was quite luxurious--two wide, featherdown beds, covered with satin and silk spreads, and deep, soft carpeting.
"Looks pretty nice," Edwin admitted, reluctantly.
"Yeah." Cory sounded less than enthusiastic.
"Wonder what this is for." Edwin pressed a button on the bedside table. Instantly a red, sparkling screen extended itself from the bulkhead, passed silently and smoothly between the beds, and attached itself to the opposite wall. "Huh! In case one of us has a guest for the night, I guess. Privacy partition."
"Wonderful," Cory said, dryly. "Maybe we ought to be glad we're near M'lord. Now if old Lady Goot tries anything, he can get here real quick."
"Don't underestimate her," Edwin told him. "She's out for your blood, and she won't quit until she gets you. I still think we should try to escape."
Cory's eyes flicked apprehensively toward the door. "How?" he whispered.
"I don't know. Wait for the opportunity, I guess." His skin prickled. "He's coming."
The door slid open to admit Lord Comishvor, and with him, Lady Gootishville's servant, Miriam.
The girl's eyes were wide with apprehension, fixed on Lord Comishvor. Cory and Edwin bowed.
Comishvor smiled, good humor apparently returning. He released the girl's hand and spoke to Cory.
"Cornelius, I come with a gift for you in return for your generous and unselfish act in bringing M'lady Frishville back to me. I have been informed by Her Ladyship that you desire this female, so I now give her to you. Take her. She is yours.*
Edwin saw his friend's face growing pink, then bright red. He swallowed hard, glancing at Miriam, then back at Comishvor. He bowed deeply. " Thank you, M'lord, but... I... can't accept this... gift..."
"And why not? I am master of the ship. I give her to you."
"But... she's Lady Gootishville's servant... isn't she?"
"No longer. M'lady has relinquished her at my request."
"Oh. But... but M'lord..."
"What is it, Cornelius?"
"I... I..."
"Was Lady Frishville in error? Is it that you do not find her attractive?"
Cory's already red face became crimson. Edwin hid a smile as his friend began to stammer again. "Oh no... I mean, yes sir, I think she's very beautiful, but I can't take just take her like this... with no consent on her part. It's not Terran custom."
Comishvor made a quick, impatient gesture. "Very well, I shall obtain her legal consent. I am captain of the ship and may perform whatever rites I desire. Miriam, do you take Cornelius here for your lawful husband?"
Miriam glanced at Cory, eyes anguished. "If... if he wants me, I do."
"Very well. Then, do you, Cornelius, take Miriam for your lawful wife?"
Cory stared, obviously struck dumb by the proceedings. "Uh..."
"Do you, Cornelius?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess so."
"Then, as Captain of this ship, I declare you are now legal husband and wife. Enjoy her, Cornelius, and may your marriage be happy and fruitful." He caught Cory by the arms in a quick Jilectan embrace, then turned and went out. The door closed behind him with a soft but somehow final click.
Edwin burst into a muffled laugh, grabbed Cory's hand and shook it. "Congratulations, Cor!"
Cory yanked his hand away. "Shut up, dammit! This is no laughing matter!" He faced the girl, expression tragic. "Miriam! My Lord, I never thought he'd... I--I'm sorry, Miriam."
She looked down, soft, dark hair falling forward to hide her features. Cory went to her and reached out hesitantly to take her shoulders. "Miriam, I... I don't know what to say. I'm sorry..."
"It's all right, Cory." She looked up at him and smiled shyly. "I feel very honored to be your wife."
"But... on such short notice!"
"You don't have to feel any responsibility. It wasn't your idea." She glanced at the door, then back at him, placing her hands on top of his where they rested on her shoulders. "Even if you only keep me for a little while, I sure prefer being your wife to being Lady Gootishville's servant."
"Was she pretty rough on you?"
"You could say so--especially when you started getting interested in me." A tiny smile. "You saved me from that, however unintentionally."
His face relaxed suddenly into a grin. "I think I'll probably keep you for more than a little while," he said, and drew her to him, kissing her. "Happy wedding day."
Miriam turned out to be a great asset. Always quiet and discreet, she went about her life much as it had been before. But their quarters were always meticulously neat, and she began, as women will, to add touches of her own in decorating their room so that it took on more the look of a lavish Terran home rather than a Jilectan pirate stateroom. Cory was openly pleased. He had been uncertain at first how to respond, and had offered to sleep in Edwin's bed, allowing her his bed alone, but she had pointed out that, if Comishvor found out, it might be considered a rejection of his gift. Cory, to Ed's amusement, hastened to agree, and later that night Ed had awakened to find the partition between the beds closed. With a drowsy grin, he turned over and went to sleep again.
She was a smart girl, he had to admit, quick to learn, charming, and very beautiful, although nowhere near as lovely as Loreen had been. Again he felt that tug of pain at his heart. Everything could have been so wonderful for them, if only...
Well it was over. Perhaps... the idea occurred to him for the first time since his wife's death, now nearly fifteen years ago, that the best thing he could do would be what Cory had done. Cory, he knew, had been attracted to Loreen, too--maybe even a little in love with her. But he had managed to put it behind him, and now was obviously happy and in love with someone else. Wasn't it possible that Edwin could do the same thing?
The idea appalled him. There *could* be no one after Loreen. Any other woman would only be second best now. He would remain single forever. There was no other choice.
**********
Chapter 16
Shallock
February 2185
"Ready to eject, sir," the pilot of their scout announced. "Two minutes".
Cory sat quietly in the passenger section of the tiny scout craft beside Edwin. The pirate ship was about to come out of hyperspace over the Jilectan world of Shallock.
Comishvor wanted another Terran psychic. Vividly, Cory recalled the Jilectan's words to Edwin after the incident in their cabin. "I can always get another Terran psychic. You live only by my sufferance... do not consider escape again..."
Insurance, he thought. Comishvor knew that Lady Gootishville might well succeed in killing him, or Edwin, or both eventually. Therefore, he was assuring himself that he would not be caught without a Terran psychic at his disposal. And if he and Edwin survived, another psychic would make Comishvor all the more powerful. Terran psychics made the pirate. Lord Dishvor, who had survived the family war, as expected, possessed three Terran psychics. Blashvor, his brother, who had also survived, had only two, but one of them was rumored to be a true teleport. Neither Edwin or Cory were teleports, nor were they medium to long range precogs. Comishvor wanted one. Short range precog ability, such as Cory possessed, was of little value.
With a jolt, the ship emerged from hyperspace.
"All clear," the voice from the intercom, announced. "Scanners report negative."
"Eject, Gary," said Comishvor.
The doors of the already depressurized bay opened and the little ship shot forward.
Shallock swam beneath them--a huge, green and blue globe floating against the starry darkness. The world's single, enormous satellite slid past on their right as they approached.
Rumor had it, of all Jilectan inhabited worlds in the sector, Shallock was where the greatest concentration of Terran psychics were to be found. The rumor might not be true, of course. It might simply have originated because the famous Patrol deserters Mark Linley and his half-brother, Kevin Bronson, were both Shallockian born, and both were known to be close associates of the Terran psychic, Alan Westover, who was now the most wanted man in the Jilectan Autonomy.
The planet swelled before them as they approached. The pilot took them in fast, dropping them like a meteor toward the surface. The interior of the little ship grew warm from the friction, and air screamed against the hull. Then the pilot pulled them out of the dive and they saw below them the blue waves of one of Shallock's oceans.
"The caves along the shoreline, Gary," Comishvor said.
Gary guided the little craft forward, and Cory saw in the screens the faint, dark line of land. It expanded as they drew near, to towering cliffs dotted with the dark outlines of caves. The pilot chose one and they entered it, moving slowly, and settled on a small strand of beach. Gary cut the engines.
Cory unfastened his safety webbing, glancing at Comishvor, who reclined at ease in the large chair across from him.
"Do a scan, Edwin," the Jilectan commanded.
Ed concentrated. "I don't sense anyone around, sir."
"Excellent. And you, Cornelius?"
"No premonitions, M'lord."
"Very well. We will go then." He stood up and strode toward the waiting aircar in the small escape craft hanger of the scout. Cory and Edwin hurried after him. The pilot, Gary, appeared in the doorway to the control room and followed.
They were clad in the current styles of Shallock, Cory and Edwin in snugly fitting jumpsuits, the legs of which flared widely at the ankle, short, almost non-existent sleeves, and plunging necklines, which revealed the hair on Edwin''s chest and the lack thereof on Cory's. Gary, the pilot, was a big, red haired pirate, who, before this venture had sported a magnificent red beard. The beard had been sacrificed, leaving only a discreet, curly red mustache. He wore working-class coveralls and a loose shirt, inside of which was concealed his blaster. Comishvor, himself, was clothed in the modest attire of a middle class Jilectan, a closely fitting body suite, the mantle decorated with semiprecious stones, and the cape falling to hip level. He looked odd, bereft of his usual garish pirate outfit.
The aircar took them out of the cave and across the rippled surface of the ocean. A white beach, bare of any occupants, loomed up and slid past beneath.
"Head for Scaifen," Comishvor instructed.
"Aye aye, sir." The craft sped on. Comishvor turned to his two psychics.
"You will scan for Terran psychic minds," he instructed. "If you locate one, you will inform me at once. If you sense a Jilectan mind, put your shields up instantly."
"Yes sir," Cory said, obediently.
"Yes, M'lord."
"If any danger presents itself, you will get away and let Gary deal with it. You will not try to help him."
"Yes, M'lord."
Silence fell. Comishvor glanced at Ed. "Wine, Edwin."
Ed poured a glass of wine and presented it to their master. Comishvor sipped it, gazing out the window at the scenery which sped beside him, caught Cory's eye, and grinned faintly.
In the distance the first outlying buildings of Scaifen came into view. Cory closed his eyes, feeling a little uneasy. He didn't like this. What if the psychic they helped abduct had a wife, or a husband, or children? What if the psychic turned out to be a kid? This was low! And yet, what could they do? Tell Comishvor no, that they wouldn't do it? Oh, sure! Comishvor would love that. As far back as he could recall in their relationship, he had never refused to do *anything* that Comishvor had ordered him to do. And, except for that one time on Trashvor's ship, the same went for Ed, and even in that incident, Comishvor had been able to force Edwin to obey.
The city flowed past below them. It was early morning, but already the air wafting through the open window of the craft was warm and humid. Cory started to lower his shields, and jumped as Comishvor spoke to him sharply.
"Shields *up*, Cornelius!"
Automatically he snapped them back into place. "Sorry, sir. I thought you wanted us to start scanning."
"Not here. Many lower class Jilectans live in the section below us. You will not find any Terran psychics there, and you could be detected. I will tell you when it is safe to begin."
"Yes sir. I'm sorry."
"No matter. You may both have some wine if you wish."
Edwin poured Cory a glass and handed it to him. It was Comishvor's favorite--Coralan pink Chablis, supposedly better than Riskellian moonwine, although to Cory it never had half the flavor of the sparkling moonwine. Still, it was good, and it quieted his jumping nerves. Half an hour passed.
Then Comishvor stirred, setting down his wineglass. His brow smoothed and he smiled faintly.
"You may begin your scans, my psychics."
Cory let his shields relax and extended his probe. There were beings below--hundreds of them--no thousands. Many were Terran, and many were other species. The sensation of so vast a number in such a small area was awesome and a little bewildering. He wasn't used to it.
A sudden jolt of raw terror reached him and he cried out at the sensation. Edwin's hand gripped his arm.
"It's a gang fight! One side's really getting wiped out!"
"Close your shields!" commanded Comishvor. "Wait until we are clear. Gary, get us out of here!"
Cory obeyed, closing his shields. The car accelerated, and after a few minutes he dared to relax his shields a second time. The sensation had passed, although he could still sense the faint flicker of fear in the distance.
Time passed--an hour, two, as they circled and cruised above the city. Then Edwin suddenly sat up straight, eyes widening. An instant later Cory caught what had already alerted the more sensitive powers of his friend--the flicker of a psychic mind somewhere ahead.
Comishvor was leaning forward, face intent. "You have one?"
Cory caught Edwin's glance. His friend didn't like this either, but there wasn't much to be done about it. They couldn't lie or evade.
"Ahead, M'lord," said Edwin. "And a little more to the south."
The car turned slightly. "Direct him, Edwin," commanded Comishvor.
"Yes sir. Just a smidge more south, Gary. That's it. Now, straight ahead."
The distance closed, and the flicker of the psychic mind grew more pronounced. Cory realized he was shaking and tried to get a grip on himself. Not only was what they were doing utterly despicable, it was also dangerous. Psychic Terrans were legally criminals, but piracy was also criminal. If Comishvor, or his psychics were detected for what they were, they would be lucky to be simply shot out of hand.
Ahead of them, Cory saw a large, rambling, rundown structure with a sagging roof. Edwin hesitated, glancing at Cory again, and then turned to M'lord. "Sir, the psychic's in that building just ahead."
"Very well. Driver, take us down."
The car settled before the structure and slid into a parking space. Comishvor gestured. "Cornelius, do you have this psychic pinpointed as well?"
"Yes, M'lord."
"Very well. You will come with me. Edwin, you remain here with Gary."
Edwin looked worried. "Can't I go, too, sir?"
"You may not. Remain here." Comishvor climbed from the car.
Cory also got out. He knew why their master was only taking one of them. This venture entailed a fair amount of risk, and Edwin, as the more powerful psychic, was not to be placed at risk. If either psychic was to be risked, it would be Cory, the less valuable. Edwin knew Comishvor's reasoning, too, and didn't like it at all.
*I'll be fine, pal.* He sent the words back to his partner as they proceeded toward the building.
*Be careful,* Edwin's voice replied.
Terrans and other species, working class beings and loiterers, jumped back as they strode toward the wall that surrounded the building ahead. As they reached the gate it was pushed open by a skinny boy of about twelve. He was dirty and disheveled, and his eyes looked too large for his face. He was clad in drab clothing, too large for him, and his feet were bare. His eyes widened at the sight of the Jilectan, and he stepped quickly back, dropping to one knee.
Comishvor hardly gave him a glance. He strode down a cracked, ancient sidewalk toward the building. A pitiful attempt had been made to put some shrubbery along the path, but the plants had died and now stood straggling and naked against their dreary background. Ahead was a sign suspended above the steps that led up to the building.
SCAIFEN ORPHANAGE
The orphanage! Cory felt his heart sink. The orphanages, established for the many parentless children of the lower species that inhabited Jilectan worlds, were nothing more than sources of cheap labor. The stories about them abounded and served to motivate orphaned children, such as Ed and he had been, to avoid them at all costs.
The psychic presence was still ahead, and above them. Their quarry was on the second or third floor. Comishvor glanced at him. "You are my servant, Cornelius. I am here to find a psychic. You will behave as my servant and no one shall ask any questions."
"M'lord... I... I..."
"Cornelius?"
"I think the Terran we're after is just a little kid. Couldn't we go look elsewhere? I mean..."
"*Any* Terran psychic is an asset, irregardless of his age, Cornelius."
"But M'lord, a... a little boy..."
"Ah, your empathic senses are disturbing you. Tell me, Cornelius, would the Terran child be better off here, or with your wife and Edwin aboard my ship?"
"I... I see your point, sir."
"Lead me to him, Cornelius."
Cory led the way up the steps and opened the unpowered door for the Jilectan. Comishvor strode imperiously through. A large, fat man seated behind a high desk glanced up, then scrambled clumsily to his feet. A little girl, engaged in scrubbing windows on one side of the lobby, glanced around, squealed, and ran for the door. The fat man snapped something at her. She froze, then turned and sank to her knees, eyes on the floor.
The fat man came puffing around the desk. His face was dirty and rough with whiskers, his clothes straining at their fasteners, and he smelled. With a grunt, he knelt before the Jilectan. "Can I help ya, M'lord?"
Comishvor spoke to him disdainfully. "There is a Terran psychic among your inmates here. I have come to take him away."
The man's face came up, startled. "A psychic, M'lord? Who?"
"I do not know his name. I have merely sensed him, and will do my duty to the Viceroy. Do not interfere!"
Comishvor motioned imperiously to Cory, who followed him toward the stairs.
Stairs. There was no lift, of course, not in a Terran orphanage. Another little girl, perhaps eight years old, was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the steps. She, too, squealed and cowered back as they passed. Cory's heart went out to the kids. There was no help for these waifs. Truly, the boy they were here to abduct was more fortunate than the children they left behind.
They paused on the second level. Cory concentrated a moment. "He's here, sir. Straight ahead."
They went across a large room, packed end to end with floor sleeping mats, and entered a long corridor. Children squealed, shrinking away from Comishvor, or stared with dull eyes as he passed. Cory tried not to look at them, but he could see nothing else.
Ahead, around a curve in the corridor, he could sense the psychic. A woman, clad in dungarees and a filthy shirt, stared at them as they passed. Ahead the boy came into view.
Like most of the children they had seen since their arrival, he was working--washing the floor on hands and knees. His head came up and his eyes focussed instantly on them. He moved, rolling to his feet in one quick, fluid motion. Cory yelled and leaped after him.
The child ran down the hallway, small legs moving with amazing swiftness, considering his size and apparent malnourished condition. Comishvor passed Cory, also in pursuit. The boy ahead whipped left and they followed. Cory heard Comishvor yell something. The boy reached an open window and scrambled through.
Comishvor was upon him, grabbing his wrists. The child performed a lithe, uncanny twist, freeing himself, jerked back, tried to get a foot on the fire escape rung, lost his hold and fell. He landed feet first in the straggling, bare underbrush. He yelped, fell to hands and knees, and started to crawl.
Cory was out the window, his feet flying on the rungs of the ladder. In ten seconds he was on the ground beside the boy.
"Easy there, easy kid."
The boy twisted around to look at him, his face white with pain, and contorted with fear and hatred. "Get away from me! Jil flunky! High heeled bootlicker!"
**********
tbc
