Pawn: 4/4
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
Chapter Nine
"Alan!" Mark leaped forward as Alan disappeared beneath the snow with a cry and a splash.
Instantly, he realized what had happened. A small pond or stream, the surface of which had been frozen over by the cold, had collected enough snow that in the darkness they had not perceived it. When Alan's weight had been thrown suddenly on it, it had given way.
"Alan! Where are you?" he shouted, frantically.
"Here, Mark! Help!" Alan was spluttering and Linley saw him, neck deep in the frigid water. He was clinging to the edge of the ice with his good hand.
"Hold on, kid!" It was a weird sensation, for Linley could feel the icy water through their mind link, which had closed with shocking suddenness when Alan had fallen. He was shivering. Although it was merely the sensation transmitted unconsciously from his partner's mind, he felt wet -- and cold. Horridly cold.
He let Janice slide to the ground and got down on hands and knees, crawling forward and testing the ice-covered surface before putting his weight on it. The ice began to crackle ominously and he retreated, swearing under his breath. He had to get Alan out. His own shivering was becoming more violent, although in actuality he was quite warm in the heavy fur. His partner was freezing.
Janice was beside him. "You're too heavy, Mark. Let me try."
"You can't, kiddo. You ain't strong enough to pull him out."
"I'm strong enough to hang onto him. Then you just pull on me."
"Hurry, Mark." Alan's voice was faint, his teeth chattering violently.
There was no other choice. "Okay, Jan, go ahead." Linley grasped her by the baggy leg of her maintenance suit. "Be careful. Test the ice before you put your weight on it."
She inched forward across the frozen pond, reaching a hand toward her brother. "Grab my wrist, Allie."
The ice creaked beneath her weight and Mark took a firmer grip on the leg of the maintenance suit. Then she was grasping Alan's hand in both of hers.
"Hold onto her, kid," Mark called.
Alan obeyed, his hand clamping firmly around his sister's slender wrist. "Ready, Mark." Linley could barely head his partner's voice. "This is going to be a tough pull, Jan. I'm kind of heavy."
"Hurry, Mark," Janice called.
Mark heaved the girl backward by her legs. Alan came up out of the water a centimeter at a time, the ice crackling anew as his weight descended on it again. Mark pulled and reached across Janice, grasping his partner by the Patrol coat and dragging him clear of the water. Janice scrambled back to dry land and stood up.
Alan's teeth were chattering violently, his face bright red in the cloudy moonlight. Mark swung him into his arms and carried him over to the fallen log. "Outta those clothes, kid! Quick!"
Alan tried to obey, the injured wrist hindering him. Janice helped her brother pull off the sodden Patrol coat, chauffeur's uniform and boots. Mark had stripped off his fashionable fur robe and now wrapped it around his partner. Alan clutched it to him, convulsively.
"Okay, Jan!" Mark snapped. "On my back, quick! We gotta move!"
The girl scrambled onto his back again and Linley lifted Alan in his arms, holding his partner tightly against him, hoping his own body heat would help keep him warm. He straightened up again, grunting a little at the combined weights. With one foot he kicked Alan's discarded clothing into the water and watched it disappear, then he turned and strode away to the east.
"I can walk, Mark," Alan gasped, between chattering teeth. "You can't carry both of us."
"Just shut up," Mark replied, not slowing his stride. "You can't walk as fast as I can carry you in this stuff and the temperature's goin' down fast. You're gonna freeze if we don't getcha to the station pronto."
Alan subsided. He was shivering in short, hard spasms.
Within ten minutes the snow had almost ceased and it was noticeably colder. The damp robe felt chilly where he clutched Alan to him and the soft fur was stiff with ice crystals. Linley cussed to himself, wishing he dared stop and light a fire, but with the Patrol crawling all over the place that was impossible. He strode on, his breath a plume of mist around his face. Alan huddled against him, shivering violently, clutching the front of the furred overtunic.
Inside of a few minutes the snow had stopped completely and the clouds were gone. Stars shone down brilliantly from a clear, night sky and the smaller of Riskell's moons lent a ghostly radiance to the scene. Mark was shivering, too, thanking Providence that he had worn the Patrol breeches under the formal robes. The icy wind whipped the fallen snow stingingly into his face and jabbed like tiny needles in his lungs, but he scarcely noticed as he strode along, calf-deep in the powdery stuff. "Howya doin' back there, Jan?" he panted.
"All right." Her voice was clear. "How's Alan?"
"Okay." His partner's teeth were chattering and his face, where Mark could see it above the robe, had changed from red to white. His lips were blue and ice beaded his eyelashes. Mark tried to hold him tighter, feeling the cold through his own clothing. The temperature was only about minus 20 degrees Celsius, not bad for a person in warm, dry clothing, but for Alan it could be fatal. And it was still dropping. Riskell was famous for this kind of temperature variation after a snowstorm. During the two Riskellian winters that Mark had been stationed on the planet, several people had died in these cold snaps that followed so quickly on the relative warmth of a storm.
Twenty minutes passed. It was *much* colder. Linley clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering and the sodden breeches of the uniform were like ice against his legs. His toes felt numb and so did his face and hands. Alan's head drooped and the dark curls were coated with ice. Slowly, his partner's grip on the overtunic was loosening.
"Kid, are you okay?"
"Ummm?" Alan shook his head and let go of the tunic. "Yeah, okay."
Mark shook him. "Alan, do you feel sleepy?"
Green eyes blinked up at him. "A little. Not so cold, now."
"Alan, listen to me!" Linley shook him again, more vigorously. "You mustn't go to sleep. You'll freeze! Stay awake! We'll be there soon."
"Okay, Mark." Alan shook his head again and his hand came up to grasp the tunic once more. He smiled drowsily. "Don't worry, Mark. I'm all right."
Mark kept moving. He stumbled once, going to his knees in the powdery stuff and swearing breathlessly. Alan stirred, blinking sleepily at him.
There was the hum of an approaching aircar.
Linley scrambled to his feet and ran forward, staggering, into a small stand of trees. He crouched down as the car passed some distance to the east, great beams of light sweeping the snow. It circled once, then again. Mark held his breath, hoping fervently that the scanners wouldn't pick them up.
The car hummed away to the south.
When the purr of its engines had faded into the distance Mark got to his feet once more and hurried on. There was perhaps a kilometer to go. Now, if no more aircars showed up ...
Alan wasn't moving and the grip of his fingers was relaxing again. Mark shook him. "Alan! Kid, answer me!"
"Hmmm? Wha' say?"
"Wake up! You're gonna freeze!"
"Mmm okay. Don' feel cold ..."
Linley swore helplessly, clutching his partner against him. "Alan! Dammit, kid, wake up! Wake UP!"
"Mm, nice an' warm. Don' worry, Mark ..."
"Alan! " It was Janice, reaching over his shoulder to grab her brother by the arm, shaking him. "You've got to wake up!"
No answer. Mark increased his pace, trying desperately to hurry. Alan's head lolled loosely against his chest.
There was a light only a short distance away and a little to his right, glowing warm and yellow in the darkness. It had better be the station, Mark thought, grimly. If it wasn't, some citizen of Riskell was going to be awfully surprised.
Janice let go of his neck and slid to the ground behind him, landing thigh deep in the snow. "Go, Mark! Run! I'll follow you!"
"Kiddo! You're barefoot!"
"Run, Mark! Alan's dying!"
Linley ran, quickly outdistancing the little girl.
The light was on the porch of a small, private home. Mark went up the steps two at a time. Tossing Alan to one shoulder, he rang the bell.
After several seconds he rang it again. Still, no one came.
Linley was just getting ready to try kicking in the door in the best style of the Viceregal Patrol when the panel opened a crack and a face peered out. A soft, faintly trembling voice spoke.
"May I ... May I help you, m'lord?"
Mark shouldered his way through the door, just as Janice came stumbling up the steps behind him.
"Get her inside!" he croaked, lowering Alan to the floor and starting to unwind the frozen robe.
The young man who had opened the door stared at him in awe, then at Alan. Janice half fell through the door, covered with snow and blinking in the sudden illumination. Slowly, the young man's face broke into a grin.
"Sure thing, Strike Commander!" he said.
**********
Chapter Ten
Warmth in the darkness. It was the first sensation of which Alan was aware. He was starting to shiver from head to foot and his feet were submerged in something warm and wet. He was wrapped like a papoose in a warm, dry cocoon. An arm was around his shoulders, and the rim of a cup was placed against his lips. His teeth clicked against the china. Scalding coffee trickled into his mouth and Mark's voice commanded him to swallow. Alan obeyed. Hot liquid ran down his throat.
"He's coming around," another voice said. "Colonel?"
"Wake up, kid." It was Mark's voice again. Alan forced his eyelids open. Blurred colors swam before him and resolved themselves into Linley's worried face. He blinked. A middle-aged man with light brown hair was also there, bending over him. Alan turned his head, trying to orient himself. He was sitting on a sofa, swathed in self-heating blankets, his feet in a tub of steaming water. Mark was sitting beside him, similarly wrapped, one arm around his shoulders and a cup of coffee in his free hand.
"Here, have some more." Linley put the cup to his chattering teeth once more. Alan gulped the steaming liquid gratefully.
"Man, kid, you scared the hell outta me." Mark let him lean against the back of the sofa. "Howya feelin' now?"
Alan blinked at his partner's face, then at his surroundings. "Where ...?"
"At the station," Mark said. He sneezed.
The other man looked at him. "You sound as if you have a cold, Colonel."
"We both do," Mark said. "Here, Doc, couldja get the kid a refill?"
"Sure." The man took the cup and rose. Mark pulled the blankets more closely around his shivering partner.
"Feelin' better?"
Alan nodded. At least the chattering of teeth was easing off. "How did we get here, anyhow?" He shook his head, splattering them both liberally with water. "I don't remember."
"I'll bet you don't. You were out like a light." Mark picked up a towel that lay on the floor beside them and began to dry Alan's hair. "Hold still. You're gonna drown us."
"Sorry." Alan obeyed. His underwear, the fur robe and the remainder of Mark's clothing lay in a sodden heap on the floor. A small puddle of water was oozing from it.
"Where's Jan?" he asked.
"Upstairs. Will's wife took her up to give her a hot bath. She'll be back in awhile. We're in the basement, behind a shielded wall, just in case any more 'trols come snoopin' around. Will tells me there's been a couple o' cars here already tonight." Mark grinned. "She's a spunky little kid. Reminds me a lot of her brother."
Will reappeared, a steaming mug in each hand. He presented one to Mark and the other to Alan, who wiggled his good arm free to receive it. "How are you feeling, Colonel Westover?"
"Warmer," Alan said. He looked around at Mark. His friend's face was red and chapped from the cold. "How did we get here?" he asked, beginning to sip the coffee.
"Colonel Linley showed up on the doorstep about half an hour ago," Will said, "looking like a Jil. Scared us half to death 'til Louise noticed he had a passenger -- you, Colonel -- not to mention that little girl tagging along behind."
"You didn't make her walk, did you, Mark? She was barefoot!"
Mark grinned. "Silence, Terran! How dare you question my high almightiness?" He socked Alan lightly on the shoulder. "She got down, herself. You were out cold an' she thought you were dyin'. She told me to run and she'd follow. It was only a couple o' hundred meters or so. Don't worry; she's fine. Spunky little kid, like I said before."
The doctor turned. "I'll get my things and see to that wrist now, Colonel Westover. If you would assist me, Colonel Linley ..."
"Sure," Mark said.
"How about our trail?" Alan asked, suddenly, then sneezed. "Won't they find ..."
"Terry and Sue went out awhile ago to take care of it, Colonel." Will vanished through a doorway. Mark was unwinding Alan's blankets to free his left arm. Will returned a few moments later and sat down next to him, beginning to undo the splint that Mark had hastily applied some three hours earlier.
"Hmm, unique first aid material." He flashed Linley a smile. "Really, though, the rumors we've been hearing! It's all over the Sector that you blasted the Viceroy this evening when you rescued that little girl."
"In passing," Alan told him. "He didn't know who it was."
"What? You didn't?"
Mark shrugged. "He was tryin' to grab me."
Will laughed incredulously. "And they say you wounded the Vicereine, Colonel. Did you do that in passing, too?"
"No," Alan said. "She was shooting at Mark. But I didn't realize it was the Vicereine."
The doctor shook his head wonderingly. "Halthzor's seeing red. He even went on the networks himself and announced that all Terran dwellings within a hundred kilometers would be searched, then described in gruesome detail what would happen to anyone caught helping you. Is it any wonder that I aged a few years when my doorbell rang and I looked out the window to see a Jil on my porch? He grinned. "What happened? Who is that child?"
Alan winced as the doctor's fingers probed his wrist. Mark grasped his good hand. "Squeeze, kid." He glanced at the doctor. "Her name's Janice Westover. She's a psychic."
The doctor's eyes widened. "Oh, really? Any relation, Colonel?"
"My sister," Alan said.
Will was running a small device along his arm. "Simple fracture here, Colonel. Won't be difficult to set. Your sister, you say? Does this have anything to do with the Arcturian incidents of the past couple of days?"
"Yeah," Mark said. "The Jils were makin' her read the Arcturians for 'em. Least we nipped that in the bud. Oughtta give us some time to condition our men before they pick up another one good enough to do it for 'em."
"I certainly hope so," Will agreed. "What happened, though? How did the Viceroy get involved?"
Linley laughed. "Well, it was this way ..."
**********
Mark helped Alan into the pajamas thoughtfully provided by their hosts. They were far too large, of course. Alan hitched the bottoms up with his good hand, feeling as though he were wearing a tent, and crawled under the blankets of the cot, favoring his injured arm. Mark was getting into a pair of equally ill-fitting ones when someone knocked on the door. "May we come in?"
"Just a minute." Linley fastened the pajama bottoms, regarded the tops a moment then tossed them to the foot of his cot. He climbed under the covers and pulled them up to his chin. "Okay, come in."
A woman entered, leading Janice Westover. The girl was wearing a pink, flannel nightgown and slippers, and the dark curls stood out in a fluffy cloud around her face. She hurried over to Alan's cot. "Are you all right, Alan?"
"Sure, I'm fine." He surveyed her closely. "How are you, sis?"
"Oh, I'm all right. I didn't fall in any water, remember?" She turned to the woman. "This is Louise."
"How do you do?" Louise was a tall, dark-haired and very pretty woman. "I'm Will Anderson's wife, Colonel Westover. How do you feel?"
Alan smiled at his partner. "I'm fine, now."
"Good. We'll be keeping you down here for several days until the hunt dies down and they decide you've gotten away. Then we'll see about getting you offworld. Is that all right with you?"
"Sounds fine to me," Mark said. He sneezed. "Gimmie a chance to get over this damned cold. I feel like I could sleep for a week or so right now."
Alan sniffled. "Me, too."
Louise smiled sympathetically. "It sounds as if you both need it." She opened a door to one side of the room. "Your bed's in here, Janice. If you need anything, just call." She nodded to the videophone on the wall. "Good night."
The door closed behind her. Janice turned and started slowly for the open door. Halfway there she stopped and turned. Alan held out his good arm and she ran to him, threw her arms about his neck and embraced him tightly. She planted a kiss on his cheek, then got up and went over to Mark. He grinned and winked at her, holding out his arms. She flung herself into them, dark, curly head resting on his shoulder. One of Mark's big hands ruffled her hair, gently. "Do I smell better, now, honey? I had a shower."
Janice flushed bright red and stood up. "Thank you, Mark. For everything."
"Don't mention it, sweetie. See you in the mornin'."
"Good night, Mark." She turned again toward the door. "Good night, Alan."
"G'night, sis."
She went through the door and it closed behind her. There was a moment of silence.
"My sister has a crush on you, you know," Alan said.
"Yeah, I know." Mark sounded amused. "I got a bit o' one on her, too." He lay back in his bed and the lights dimmed automatically ...
And flashed back to brightness as the door to the stairway opened. Mark groaned, bringing up a hand to cover his eyes. Alan squinted at the tall, middle-aged man who stood there.
"Colonel Terrence, C.O. of the station," he identified himself, looking disapprovingly at his guests. "The message to notify the Lavirra Base that you are safe will go out as soon as a ship can be gotten offworld. Let me say that I sincerely hope General Kaley reprimands both of you. That was a very foolish risk you took."
Alan glanced at the door to the room his sister had entered then back at the man. "Worth it," he said, and sneezed.
The commanding officer shook his head. "You two are far too valuable for such dangerous stunts, even to rescue another psychic ..."
"Kindly go to hell, Colonel," Mark said. He flopped over on his stomach and pulled the pillow over his head.
The colonel looked affronted. "I appreciate your personal interest in the affair, Colonel Westover, but Colonel Linley is presumably a mature and intelligent individual, who ..."
The door opened, revealing Janice, pillow in hand. "Can I sleep in here with you, tonight, Alan? It's lonesome in there, all by myself, and every time I close my eyes I see Duke Halthzor's face looking at me."
"Sure, sis." Alan started to sit up.
"Lie still, kid." Mark got out of bed, went into the adjoining room and dragged the girl's cot through the door, placing it between his and Alan's. Janice smiled at him and he gave her a wink in return. She climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.
"G'night, Allie."
"'Night, Curly Top." Alan looked over at Colonel Terrence. "You had something else you wanted to say, sir?"
The colonel cleared his throat. "Uh, no, Colonel, I'm finished. Good night, now." He turned and went out, closing the door quietly behind him.
"Thanks, honey," Mark said. He flopped over on his stomach again and once more the lights went out.
Janice sounded puzzled. "What for?"
"For the rescue," Mark said. "'Night, sweetie. Sleep tight."
Epilogue
"I repeat, there will be no retaliation for this incident." Duke Halthzor, first cousin of the deceased Viceroy and heir to the vacant office, sat behind his desk, his long, slim hands resting motionless on the polished surface before him. "It is not politically wise."
"Not wise!" Lord Revolthvor paced the room, his tall, blond form quivering with rage. "This is the most abominable crime ever inflicted upon us by any of the inferior species. Retribution must be exacted!"
"Against whom?" Halthzor rose, towering over even his tall visitor. "Against the outlaws? Find them! Against our servants here on Riskell, upon the chance of finding a few of their agents? Foolish and unproductive. Against one of the Terran colonies? Dangerous! The Terrans are an emotional and unpredictable species, and their government is strongly influenced by the voice of the citizenry. Such a move could push them into a war against us, which must be avoided at all costs."
"Ridiculous!" Revolthvor scowled angrily. "The Terran Confederation is far too weak to prevail against our might."
"Conceded. But Lanthzor's indiscriminate destruction of the Regash Colony has caused much resentment among their people. We are balanced upon the edge of a knife blade. If we are to succeed in the assimilation of the Terrans and procure their planets for the use of our own people we *must not* push them into a war!" Halthzor stepped around the desk to place a hand on his fellow Jilectan's shoulder in an oddly gentle manner. "Do not fear, my friend. These outlaws will pay for their crimes. Mark Linley and Alan Westover will die slowly and painfully before the watching eyes of the whole Autonomy and the subject species will learn the price of defiance. It is merely a matter of time."
When Revolthvor had taken his leave, the Viceroy-to-be seated himself once more at the desk. For a long moment he stared at the portrait of his predecessor that looked down from the opposite wall, then returned to the work interrupted by the other Jilectan's arrival. There was much to be done before he officially assumed the role of Viceroy. He must take Lanthzor's widows as his official wives and prepare to install his eldest son, Salthzar, into the Dukedom. But first he must issue orders regarding the Terran psychics. From this moment on, instead of immediate interrogation and execution, they would first be tested. Another psychic like Janice Westover would be located eventually. The key to the Arcturians had at last been found.
THE END*
*And we all know what happened, after that!
