Child's Play: 7/?
by Linda Garrick
Edited and Revised by Nancy Smith
Chapter 6
Lord Linthvar, illustrious son of Lord Lorinthvor, and heir to the vast family fortune and property, limped rapidly down the corridor of the spaceport's main building, following his tenuous lead.
He was almost certain that he had sensed the mind of Alan Westover in these corridors somewhere -- almost, but not quite. What if it wasn't Westover? What if it was only imagination?
He had been expecting Westover to venture near ever since he had sent out his ingenious lure -- that Westover's dear friend, Julia Austell, was in his custody. Westover would attempt a rescue. It wasn't worth his consideration to doubt that Westover would come. Linthvar permitted himself a derisive smile. What a surprise the Terran would receive!
But what if it hadn't been Westover? Linthvar had been straining his senses for hours to catch any trace of the evil little psychic, and when the trace had come it had been so faint and fleeting that he simply couldn't be certain that he hadn't imagined it.
He shook off the thought. It *must* be Westover! The elusive, crawling little beast had hurt, humiliated and eluded him more times than he cared to recall. He must be here! Linthvar was the best Terran-sensitive that the Jilectan Autonomy had ever produced. He *must* be correct! Westover was an extremely powerful psychic and Linthvar had sensed his mind several times. He *couldn't* be mistaken.
But what if he was? Again, the nagging, uncomfortable thought intruded. Best to say nothing to his patrolmen. It was clear from their thoughts that they already suspected strongly that their quarry was Westover, Linley or both. They would be on their guard and if Linthvar *was* wrong, they would never know it.
He could smell the fear in the humans, though. Little cowards, he thought derisively. Terrans had no stamina. They were slow, stupid and clumsy, and now, frightened as they were, their sickening stench penetrated even the expensive perfume that Linthvar wore.
They entered a wider hallway where a narrow counter dominated one side, and proceeded toward the door at the end. The sign on the door announced that this was the entrance to the restricted levels, where the private ships were docked. Alert, he again sensed -- or thought he sensed -- the Terran mind. Had Westover taken refuge in the hangar? Was he hoping that Linthvar had not detected him? Pleasure washed over him at the thought. Linthvar would capture the fiendish little criminal and make him crawl. He would cripple the little beast, and humiliate him before his own people, and then he would take him to the Viceroy. Halthzor would be angry but he would not punish Linthvar. Linthvar was kin through Halthzor's twelfth wife ...
Yes! There it was again! There was definitely a Terran psychic concealed within the hangar. He had come to rescue Julia Austell. Again Linthvar's lips curled. That broadcast had been a stroke of genius. Stupid, weak Terrans! Rushing to save their worthless females with no thought as to the outcome!
"There is a Terran psychic in the hangar," he announced to his patrolmen. "You will go in and capture him."
The patrolmen stared at him, openmouthed. "Are you sure there's only one, sir?" the squad's lieutenant asked, after a pause.
"I believe him to be alone, but use the necessary precautions," Linthvar said. "His companion's shielding may be superior to his, if he has a companion. I doubt it, however. I believe him to be alone. Go in and capture him."
"Shouldn't we call for backup first, sir?"
"It is not necessary," Linthvar informed him. It would not be wise, he told himself, to broadcast it, if he should prove to be incorrect. Some fool back at the ship might break hyperspace jamming and call to inform the Viceroy that they were on the verge of capturing Westover, only to have it turn out to be a false alarm. The men around him were certain it was Westover and Linthvar was becoming more certain of it by the moment. Again, pleasure washed over him at the thought of returning triumphant to the Autonomy with Westover in tow.
"Go!" he commanded. "Capture the criminal!"
The men exchanged looks and then went cautiously forward. One of them touched the control on the door, and the door moved silently back.
"It's unlocked!" The lieutenant drew a deep breath and turned back to Linthvar. "Sir, I respectfully suggest that we at least notify the ship of our whereabouts and status. This -- well, this looks like a setup to me, sir."
Fury surged through him. The little worm was trying to tell a Jilectan his business! How *dare* he? "You will obey my order, Lieutenant!"
"But sir --"
"Very well, Lieutenant, since you are hesitant, I relieve you of command. Sergeant Curtis, take over for Lieutenant O'Hara."
There was a pause. Curtis, Linthvar noted with fury, seemed no more enthusiastic than O'Hara had been to enter, but after a moment the newly assigned leader went forward, motioning for his men to follow. Blasters drawn, they congregated at the door.
"Go with them, Lieutenant," Linthvar ordered. "They may need you. Stunbeams only."
"Yes, M'Lord." The sergeant glanced at his men, and Linthvar saw him swallow. "Take cover and keep down until we're sure of the fugitive's location. If he's cornered, he may set for overload."
"I want him alive," Linthvar stated.
"Yes, sir." Curtis jerked his head at his men. "Go!"
The patrolmen vanished through the door. The light in the room came on and there was a scramble as the men threw themselves flat. Two or three stunbeams hummed. Then silence.
"I don't see nothin'," someone said.
Linthvar waited, scanning. There was a faint rustle from the room. He took a cautious step forward.
Something poked him hard in the throat, stopping his breath and half-stunning him. He gasped, clutching his neck. The thing poked him again, hard enough to make him choke, and the blaster at his hip jerked suddenly. Incredulous, he saw the jewel-studded weapon flash past him, to vanish somewhere behind him. He spun about, still coughing and wheezing for air.
Two little girls stood there, one on his right and one on his left. One held a Patrol blaster and the other his own weapon. Their faces, identical in feature, were sweet, impish and, at the moment, delighted.
"You move, Jil," the one on his left piped in a high, childish voice, "an' you'll be limpin' on *both* legs!"
Linthvar stared. "What --"
"An' you better tell your 'trols to stay where they are!" the other one informed him in perfect Basic. "'Cause if they come outta there before we tell 'em to, we'll shoot you! Tell 'em, Jil!"
"Remain where you are!" Linthvar snapped. "Curtis, keep your men in there! Do not come out!"
"Good!" The one on the left grinned devilishly, and Linthvar saw her father in her. Mark Linley's daughters! He had not the slightest doubt of it. Foolish and impulsive, he told himself. Terran children. All he must do was to remain calm. They would make a mistake soon and he would have them.
"How dare you!" he snapped.
The grin widened. "'Cause I'm Mark Linley's kid, M'Lord, an' I'd love to shoot a Jil, just like my daddy did! Now, tell your men to throw out their blasters. Move it!"
"Do as she says, Sergeant!" Linthvar ordered. "Quickly!"
Weapons clattered to the floor and slid quickly through the opening past Linthvar to stop bare centimeters from the children's feet.
"There's one left," the twin on the right said. "Tell Patrolman Murphy to throw out his blaster, M'Lord. Now!"
"Do it, Patrolman!" Linthvar snapped.
A last blaster thumped to the floor, skidded past Linthvar and stopped where the others lay. The girls, as one, motioned with the weapons they held. "Okay, march into the hangar, M'Lord. An' if you try somethin', I'll fix you good!"
He moved forward. Play along, he thought. Mark Linley's daughters or not, they were only children. Sooner or later, he would be able to catch them by surprise but if he tried it while they were alert, he might get hurt.
He entered the hangar and the children stationed themselves at the door, one on either side of it, their blasters still leveled at him. There was sudden movement to the left and above him. From a repair platform well above the floor, two small Terran boys descended, their feet moving rapidly on the ladder's rungs. One of them ... Linthvar felt his throat almost close in sheer fury. The smaller boy was the image of Alan Westover, himself! It must be the outlaw's son! Ah! If he could but capture him, his victory over his hated enemy would be complete!
The two boys reached the floor and the one resembling Westover grabbed the other by the wrist, speaking softly in Terran English. "Get the 'trols' blasters, but don't get between the girls and the Jil."
The other boy nodded. He looked frightened and his eyes flicked toward Linthvar, and then away. The patrolmen were watching Linthvar, too, and Linthvar looked scornfully past them. Stupid Terrans! Why had none of them seen the two girls? The children must have hidden in the corridor without and the patrolmen had all, every one, walked right past them! Linthvar had been occupied with tracing Westover's son, so of course he hadn't seen! Idiot Terrans! It was *all* their fault!
The two boys moved toward the door and one of the little girls stepped aside so the boys could pass behind her. They went out and a moment later reappeared, their belts bristling with the confiscated blasters. Each held a blaster before him, clutched in both hands. Westover's son stepped up beside the daughters of Linley, but the other boy hung back, his eyes straying occasionally toward Linthvar. Linthvar smiled faintly. It wouldn't be so very hard to intimidate these children, he thought. For all their bravado, they were still ineffectual little cowards, like all Terrans.
"All right." The girl on the left was speaking. "All of you, lie down on your faces. You too, M'Lord."
"How *dare* you, *Terran*! You will die in the execution chair for this atrocity!"
The little girl's blaster hissed sharply and Linthvar felt the needle beam rake his right leg. An involuntary shriek was wrenched from him at the shock and pain. He staggered to his knees.
"Face down!" the little girl repeated. She sounded a bit shaken, but still firm. "*Do* it, M'Lord! Quick, or I shoot again!"
Linthvar obeyed. There was nothing else he could do. The floor was cold and rough against his cheek. His leg burned and throbbed. Anger flooded him, overwhelming him. Terran psychics! They had injured him again! They had violated his sacred person over and over! They would die horribly for this!
"Not this time, M'Lord," the little girl informed him. She sounded normal again. The little upstart was *reading* him -- scanning his thoughts! He put his shields up and heard her giggle.
**********
Chapter 7
Scotty Pinks regarded the prone form of the Jilectan apprehensively. He was scared, and Lord Linthvar knew he was scared. The Jilectan was counting on his fear, he knew, hoping to frighten him and the others into submission. Well, he wouldn't let it happen! Scotty stood up straighter and squared his shoulders. If Jennifer, Jill and Marky could take it, so could he.
"What'll we do now?" he asked. "You know, if there are any more Jils on that ship, he could call for help. My dad told me all Jils can do that."
"Sure," Jennifer said. "They're all telepaths -- or most of 'em, anyway. But there aren't any more Jils here. I read him and saw it. He wishes there was! He was advised to bring along an assistant, but he thought he could handle things alone. He's feeling pretty stupid about it now!"
Linthvar jerked convulsively and the two little girls giggled. Scotty felt himself relax a little and managed a smile. "What do we do now?"
Jennifer considered. "Well, if we call the ship now and tell 'em we want Mr. and Mrs. Pinks, they'll pinpoint us and maybe flood the place with sleep gas or something. No, we'd better take old Linthvar here with us. Jill, you go get the patrolman we stunned and bring him back. We'll lock 'em all up here together. Marky, you go get that aircar we saw on the parking tier. Bring it here and park it outside, over there." She nodded to a door on the right wall. "We'll take the Jil in it and head back to the station."
"They'll see me do it from the ship!" Marky protested.
"Keep the lights off. They might pick you up on their scanners, if they're watching, but we'll be gone before they can figure out what's going on."
"What about his homing sense?" Marky inquired. "Remember, they told us all Jils have a sense of direction. Even if we blindfold him, he'll be able to tell where we take him."
"No he won't," Jill told Marky calmly. "Uncle Mitch told Jen an' me the way to mess up a Jil's homing sense is to fire a stunner at him, close range. It won't knock him out, but it messes up his sense of direction. You have to do it every five or six minutes, but it'll work."
"Who's Mitch?" Scotty asked.
"My daddy's brother," Jennifer said.
"Oh."
"We'll be okay," Jennifer said. "Hurry up, before somebody starts to miss His Lordship."
"Okay." Marky went out and Jill followed. Jennifer stood over the prone form of Linthvar, the blaster aimed at his spine. The patrolmen remained motionless.
Scotty tried to will himself to speak to the alien. He wanted to find out about his parents, whether they had been hurt and what the Jilectan's plans for them were, but he was just too frightened of Linthvar to open his mouth. It angered him and he felt shame as he recalled the careless and disrespectful way Jennifer had spoken to him.
Jennifer glanced briefly at him and smiled reassuringly. "He's kind of scary, isn't he," she remarked. "Remember, Jils aren't gods, even if they like to think they are. They can die as easily as anyone else. That's what my Uncle Kevin says."
Linthvar moved convulsively and the little girl's smile widened. "Go take off their helmets and bring 'em over here," she told Scotty. "Be sure the switch beside the throat mike is turned off. I think they all are, but make sure. We don't want anybody homing in on us. Keep away from their hands." She raised her voice slightly and spoke in Basic. "Scotty's going to take your helmets. If anybody does anything stupid, Lord Linthvar gets it in the left leg. I'll fix him so he won't even be able to *limp*!"
"Do not attempt to touch the boy!" the Jilectan commanded at once.
Scotty drew a deep breath and obeyed. He bent over the nearest man and unfastened the helmet strap, then stepped back and glanced into the device. The switch was in the off position. The inside of the helmet, he noted, was damp with perspiration and the patrolman's dark hair was plastered wetly to his head. His forehead was beaded with sweat.
"Man!" He rolled the helmet to her and bent over the next man. "These things must be hot!"
Jennifer giggled. "My daddy says they were awful."
Scotty rolled the second helmet over beside the first. "If they're that bad, you'd think they'd distract the guys from doing their jobs."
"Yeah. Oh well; Jils don't care about Terrans, and Terrans can put up with an awful lot if they're paid enough."
"I suppose," Scotty said. He rolled a third helmet to her, then the fourth and fifth. "You were right, by the way. These are all turned off. I wonder why. You'd think they'd have wanted to stay in contact with their ship if they were out hunting Alan Westover."
Jennifer laughed. "Lord Linthvar ordered it. He didn't want anyone ruining his surprise."
"What surprise?"
"The surprise of bringing Alan Westover in." She giggled again and then he heard her quick intake of breath. "Scotty, watch out!"
Scotty had felt the flash of warning at the same instant. He leaped to one side as the patrolman made a grab for him. Jennifer fired, and Linthvar screamed something in the Jilectan language, curling into a ball and clutching his other leg. The patrolman leaped across the deck at Scotty and Jennifer fired a second time. The man howled and fell, the material of his uniform shriveling away over his right shoulder. He crashed to the deck beside the writhing Jilectan.
Then Jennifer was beside Scotty, her blaster roving impartially between the Jilectan and the patrolman.
"That was real stupid, Patrolman Murphy!" she piped.
The man groaned. Linthvar, cursing breathlessly in the Jilectan language, started to reach for the downed patrolman. Jennifer fired, and the needle beam hissed to the floor centimeters from the Jilectan's clutching hand.
"Don't do it, M'Lord!" she advised.
Linthvar subsided, still cursing. "You will *die* for this, Murphy!" he promised savagely.
"Get the last helmet," Jennifer instructed Scotty. "And be careful of Murphy. My daddy always says that a guy who'll do something stupid once will do something twice as stupid if you give him another chance."
Scotty bent carefully and removed Murphy's helmet. None of the men had moved during the little drama, with the exception of Patrolman Murphy. Scotty rolled the helmet over to join its fellows and straightened up. "Will -- will Linthvar really kill him, do you think?"
The little girl shrugged. "He might. That was really dumb." She addressed the Jilectan. "You ought to be more careful about the guys you pick to help you."
The Jilectan groaned again. "Terrans are universally idiots! There are no exceptions!"
"Look who's talking," Jennifer said.
Linthvar cursed savagely. "You are fools, both of you! You know, of course, that we hold the boy's parents, but did you also know, daughter of Linley, that we hold your mother?"
The girl froze, her blaster centered on the Jilectan's back. "That's a lie!" she stated. "My mother's not even on Bellian."
"You think so, female? Read the mind of that fool, Murphy, and see if I speak the truth!"
Jennifer frowned for a moment, and Scotty saw her face go white. He swallowed. "Your mom's been caught, too?"
"My mommy was back at the base!" It was an appalled whisper.
"And when I do not return, they will kill her!" Linthvar said. "They will --"
Jennifer interrupted him. "How did you catch my mommy?"
"She followed you here and I traced her. As I said, all Terrans are fools and your mother --"
The needle beam spat again, singing the Jilectan's leg in a different spot. He screamed, writhing and clutching at the new injury. Jennifer stepped back.
"If it's true," she said, her voice suddenly cold, "then you're going to give her back. If your men kill her, my daddy and Uncle Alan will cut you into little bits."
"It does not matter. My men have orders to kill her if I do not return."
"That's a lie," Jennifer said. "I'm still reading Murphy's mind, and you didn't give that order to anybody."
"Do you think I inform fools of every order I give my officers, Terran child?"
"Maybe not," Jennifer said. Her voice, soft and childish as it was, reminded Scotty of the ice on the stream near his home in the wintertime. "But none of these guys here know anything about it, and anyway, it doesn't matter. I know what the Viceroy'll do to her, no matter what happens to you, and you know it too. I think you're lying, but even if you're not, I won't let you go. You're going back with us, and you better hope your 'trols are too smart to hurt my mommy. Now shut up."
The door slid open and Jill entered, marching a shackled, gagged patrolman before her. She looked upset.
"Get down on the floor with the others," she said. "Jen, I read this guy. He thinks Mommy's been caught."
"So do the other guys," Jennifer informed her, "and Linthvar says it's true."
Jill started to cry. "They've got to be wrong! She was back home!"
"They probably are," Jennifer said. "I think it's a trick to get us off guard or something."
Scotty spoke. "Jen, does Murphy know anything about my mom and dad?"
Jennifer frowned. "I don't know. I didn't notice. Can't you read him?"
"No," Scotty said, feeling stupid.
"Oh, that's right. I forgot." Jennifer frowned at the patrolman. "That's funny."
"What?"
"Murphy thinks Mommy's there, all right, and there's a little skinny red-haired guy --"
"That's my dad!"
"Yeah, but I don't see anything about another woman. He doesn't know anything about your mommy." She turned to Linthvar. "Where's Scotty's mommy? Didn't you catch her?"
"She is there," Linthvar said, after a pause. "But she is pregnant, and is being prepared for immediate transport."
"My mommy's pregnant, too," Jill said suspiciously. "So isn't she being prepared for transport, too?"
Another pause. Then: "It does not matter with Julia Austell. She is slated for execution, pregnant or not. But this other woman is not a psychic, nor does she belong to the Terran Underground. She will not be executed unless she proves herself a traitor. Right now, her only crime is association with a Terran psychic."
The two little girls regarded Linthvar soberly. "I think he's lying," Jill said suddenly. "And I think he's lied to his 'trols. Jils lie to their 'trols a lot. That's what Daddy says. Jils don't trust 'em to keep their mouths shut. 'Sides, psychics can read 'em."
"That's right." Jennifer sounded almost normal again. "Marky's on his way back with the aircar. Scotty, you cuff the 'trols like we did to that guy --" She jerked her head at the man Jill had brought. "Their restrainers are on their belts. Hurry. He'll be here in a minute. Jill, you help him."
The patrolmen submitted quietly. Scotty figured that they knew Jennifer would shoot their boss if they made trouble, since she'd already done it three times, and that would be bad for them. Jill knelt next to the Jilectan and used one of the patrolmen's belts to tie his hands behind his back.
"Okay, that does it," she announced.
"Good. Bring the helmets over here, next to the field doors," Jennifer directed. "M'Lord Linthvar, you're going to have to move over here, too."
"I cannot! My legs --"
"You've just got a few little blisters," Jennifer informed him curtly. "I don't want to shoot you again, but I will if I have to. Move over there." She caught him under the arm. "Jill, cover him. Scotty, you help me."
Scotty's flesh crawled at the thought of actually touching the alien. "Jen --"
"Get his arm. Come on, M'Lord, you can make it."
Linthvar made it to his knees, groaning and cursing. Scotty helped him, cringing a little at the sensation of warm flesh beneath the soft robes. The Jilectan felt curiously soft and flaccid to him, not muscular as he had expected.
They made it to the doors, Scotty clutching the alien beneath the arm and Jennifer panting on his other side. Jill kept the blaster on him. Together, they let him slump to the floor and Jennifer turned breathlessly. "You guys get the helmets. I'll cover His Lordship. Hurry. Marky's almost here."
Scotty and Jill ran to obey. Jennifer pointed. "Bolt the inside door, Scotty. We don't want these guys found right away. I've got to zap the outside door's alarm."
Scotty obeyed. He could feel Marky's presence approaching. Jennifer pressed the button and the door to the outer world slid quietly open. Beyond the glimmering blue of the landing field's force barrier, the lights of the battlecruiser glowed dimly a thousand meters away. The unlighted aircar settled before them and the door opened.
"In, M'Lord." Jennifer prodded the Jilectan with the nose of her blaster. "Hurry. If they see us I'll shoot you if you're still out here. Hurry up!"
Linthvar crawled miserably forward into the aircar. Scotty tossed the helmets into the front seat and Jill paused, concentrating for an instant. The door behind them slid shut, closing the patrolmen inside and the lock clicked. The two girls ushered Scotty into the front seat and then got into the rear with the Jilectan. The doors closed and the car soared upward.
Marky, behind the controls, peered back. His feet didn't reach the floor, Scotty saw, although the vehicle was accelerating as they moved farther away from the spaceport. The little boy must be using telekinesis to substitute for his foot on the accelerator. Behind him, he heard the hum of a stunbolt and a snarl from Linthvar.
The little boy looked quickly back over his shoulder.. "I don't think anybody noticed me. The ship's still just sitting there, and I don't see any pursuit cars." He glanced back again, this time looking at the Jilectan. "Gosh, you shot him again!"
"Had to," Jennifer said. "A stupid 'trol tried to grab Scotty while he was taking the helmets. I just singed him a little."
"They sting, though. We ought to put some burn cream on him or something."
"No way." Jennifer sounded angry. "He's got our mommy."
Marky jerked around. "Aunt Julia?" In spite of the fact that he was staring at the girls in the rear seat, Scotty saw, the car continued in a straight line. The little guy sure seemed to know what he was doing.
"That's what he says," Jennifer replied, "and the 'trols thought so, too."
"She was back home!"
"M'Lord says she followed us here."
"He's lying. And he's lied to his 'trols so we'd read 'em and think he was telling the truth. It's a trick the Jils use all the time. Uncle Mark's told me, and so did Uncle Kevin!"
"That's right." Jennifer sounded almost convinced and she giggled suddenly. "Hey! We kidnapped a Jil and got clean away! Nobody even knows we've got him!" Scotty heard the hum of the stunbolt again, and Linthvar swore. Jennifer giggled triumphantly. "Wasn't it *fun*?"
**********
tbc
