The Crystal Demon: 6/?
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
VI
Jefferson Parnell jumped convulsively as the door to his quarters slid open. A green-scaled Arcturian entered, a cloth-covered object in his taloned hands. "Here it iss, ssir."
"Good. The ship's ready."
"Where iss your valet going, ssir?" the Arcturian asked.
"My valet? He should be in his quarters."
"He iss not, ssir. I ssaw him leave. He gave me a mosst dissturbing look azz he passed."
"Damn!" Parnell was on his feet. "Looks like time is getting short. Let's go, Tim."
"Yess, ssir." Still holding the cloth-wrapped object, Sublieutenant Timmar led the way and Parnell followed, not glancing back.
They hurried down the long corridor toward the entrance. Parnell resolutely ignored the prickling feeling on the back of his neck. Timmar seemed perfectly calm, as always, his footfalls brisk and businesslike on the tile flooring. They emerged from the building and headed directly for Parnell's aircar and got in. The Commander touched a control and they soared upward.
A tiny ship waited for them on the landing field, the ramp down, its engines purring softly. Parnell brought the aircar down to a leisurely stop in his reserved parking space and glanced around. "Let's go," he said.
They stepped out of the car and moved at a brisk but unhurried pace toward the ship. The Arcturian carried the globe wrapped tightly in the thin, metallic cloth that protected the bearer from the thing's inimical effects, but even a sideways glance at the cloth-shrouded thing made Parnell's hair want to stand on end. He knew why the Terran Underground wanted the globe, all right. He'd seen the victims of this thing.
Behind them, there was a sudden shout, and a blaster cracked.
The beam seared Parnell's leg and he fell. Timmar turned, shouting his name. Parnell leveled his blaster at the approaching patrolmen. "Go on, Tim! I'll cover you!"
**********
Timmar saw his friend fall and twisted about. "Sheff!" he shouted.
Parnell was on his stomach, his blaster out, firing at the oncoming squad of the Patrol. "Go on, Tim! I'll cover you!" he commanded.
"Sheff, I cannot --"
"Go!" Parnell's blaster cracked again, sending the squad scattering for cover. "Take off! Save Lyn!"
The Arcturian hesitated for a split instant, then turned and sprinted for the ramp.
Fire seared the pavement at the Arcturian's feet. Timmar leaped nimbly sideways, then charged up the ramp and into the ship. He slapped the airlock control, dashed into the tiny control room and slammed his body into the pilot's chair. Not bothering to strap himself in, his taloned hands flew over the controls. The ship surged upwards.
The communicator crackled. "Sublieutenant Timmar, return to base at once! This is Subcommander Chavin! Return at once! Your personal obligation to Commander Parnell will be considered in your defense. Are you reading me, Sublieutenant? Return to ..."
The Arcturian reached over absently and shut off the irritating noise. His cold, green eyes turned to his instruments and his taloned fingers fed data into the navigational computer. He was breaking the atmosphere now. There was bound to be a Patrol ship or two on its way to intercept him ...
A shrill beep announced the vessel's approach. Timmar activated the weapons computer without removing his gaze from the instruments.
The ship was a Patrol interceptor, and it was coming fast. The Arcturian waited until the last second and flipped his little vessel sideways. The other ship fired, missing, then shot past beneath him.
Timmar was an excellent pilot. The Patrol trained their men well. The other ship was circling, heading back toward him. He glanced at the viewscreen and then back at his instruments. He had cleared the pull and his ship would convert to hyperspace in forty-three seconds.
The interceptor screamed past, firing. His own vessel rocked, and a green light came on on the instrument panel. His communicator indicator, he saw. Not so good. He would need the communicator when he reached Kasal ...
He glanced at the computer. Twenty seconds, and here came the Patrol ship again. Timmar's computer fired and his readouts showed a hit. The other vessel's stabilizer had been damaged. Seven seconds ...
A second ship was approaching. Timmar ignored it. There was no possible way it could arrive in time.
With a jolt, his ship converted to hyperspace. The Arcturian leaned back in his chair for a moment, his crest subsiding slightly. He had succeeded. He was on his way to Kasal to save his friend's child from her captors. He had obeyed Jeff Parnell's final instructions -- his last wish. It was all any Arcturian could do for his friend.
Would the Terran Underground honor its part of the agreement? The Jils would have denied the possibility, of course, but Timmar thought the chances were excellent that Lyn Parnell would be returned alive.
Timmar glanced at the cloth-wrapped globe on the deck beside his chair. Whatever the trouble was, this thing had started it. The Underground wanted it desperately. Why?
He let it lie and rose from his seat, stretching his long, sinuous arms. He must try to repair the communicator before reaching Kasal.
Deliberately, he turned his thoughts from Jeff. Worrying wouldn't help. If Jeff was fortunate, he had managed to kill himself before capture. If not -- well, he would die in the execution chair, and Timmar, Lyn and the representatives of the Underground would have a welcoming committee when they arrived on Kasal.
Consigning his worries to the Fates, Timmar bent over the communicator casing.
**********
Alan Westover lay on his bunk in the quarters he shared with Mark aboard the Tin Soldier. His fingers were hooked behind his head, and anger still burned within him.
How *dare* Kaley even consider locking him up to prevent his assisting Mark -- especially after the business on the Patton? Of course the General had realized his mistake at once, apologized and withdrawn the threat but the thought had been there or he never would have voiced it. The incident a year before, that had changed the Terran Underground's policy regarding psychic partners, had nearly cost Mark his life, and nearly cost the Underground their top psychic. Kaley was skating perilously close to violating that policy in his effort to protect Alan.
It had been close to an hour since Mark's departure for Kasal. The Tin Soldier was in route to Lavirra. Linley would make the exchange and rendezvous with them back at the base.
Alan couldn't relax. Anger at Kaley's threat, intermixed with anxiety for his partner, ran through him. Silly, he knew. Parnell had been sincere; he was sure of that. So, why was he worried?
He knew why. The trade was risky, and fraught with dangerous possibilities.
He sighed and tried to turn his thoughts from the problem. There was no sense in stewing about it, he told himself. Mark would be all right. He was smart, and certainly the most resourceful person that Alan had ever known.
He was desperately tired. His body ached with fatigue and his eyes felt hot and grainy. He turned on his side, tossed a little and finally drifted into a half-awake state. A dream began to form.
He came fully awake and was on his feet as he was still waking, snatching his flight suit from the chair where he had tossed it. His heart pounding, his hands trembling with the need for haste, he pulled on his boots and snatched up his flight helmet.
A tap sounded on the door and he turned, sensing Julia Austell.
"Alan, may I come in?"
He hesitated. "What do you want?"
The door slid open, revealing Julia, spectacular as usual in her smart Lieutenant's uniform, her golden hair pulled severely back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. It was a generally unattractive style on most women. On Julia it was a fashion statement. Her eyes went wide when she saw him, and her full lips parted in surprise.
"Alan? What's the matter?"
He triggered the closing mechanism with telekinesis. "I have to go after Mark."
The color drained from her cheeks. "You're having a premonition?"
"Yes."
She hesitated. "We should tell Kaley."
"No!"
She bit her lip. "Alan, I thought that was all cleared up between you."
"Well, it isn't!" Alan was surprised at the harshness of his own voice. "If he knows, he won't let me go. Don't try to stop me, Julia."
She hesitated. "Alan ..."
He snatched the blaster from his holster. "If you try to tell him I'll have to stun you."
She stared at him, aghast. "Alan!"
"I mean it. You stay here until I'm gone."
"No way!" She glared at him. "Put that thing away!"
"Not until --"
"I won't tell Kaley," she snapped. "Read my mind if you can't trust me. My shields are down."
He slowly lowered the weapon. "All right. I'm sorry."
"Never mind that. I'm going with you."
"No!"
"Yes! You might need some backup!"
"Julia, I outrank you. You're staying here. I don't want you in trouble, too."
"Don't give me that rank business. Somebody's got to use some common sense here, and besides, he's my friend, too!"
He wasn't going to win this one. He was well aware of the feelings Julia had for Mark, even if she didn't acknowledge them, and she was perfectly capable of following him if he stunned her and left her behind. Besides, there wasn't time to argue. "All right, fine. Let's go."
"How are we going to get off the ship without being spotted? We're still in hyperspace!"
"The same way I got out of the Patton. I'll take a scout and rig it to go into hyperspace the instant it leaves the cruiser's field."
"All right." She sounded dubious. "If you know how, I'm game. What about Kaley?"
"He'll figure it out when he finds out I'm gone."
"All right. Let's go." She stood aside. "After you."
He hesitated, but the urgency of his premonition spurred him to action. The door snapped open, and he led the way down the corridor.
The hangar deck was nearly deserted. The single crewman on guard looked curiously at them as they stepped off the elevator. "Colonel Westover?"
Alan smiled faintly. "Please tell the General we were called away suddenly."
"Sir, where are you going?"
"To Kasal."
The young man's face paled. "Is Major Linley in trouble?"
"Yes," Alan said.
The crewman turned away. "I didn't see a thing, sir."
"Thank you," Alan said. "I'll remember it."
The scout ships aboard the Tin Soldier were lean, fast vessels with all the latest weaponry. Alan and Julia boarded and hurried into the tiny control room. Alan punched the starting sequence and flipped on the computer. "I'm blocking the sensors with telekinesis, but I can't do it for long. Let's move."
Julia yanked the safety webbing across her lap as the whine of engines rose to a roar. The hangar doors opened. Alan could feel the sweat dripping down his face as he strained to keep the instruments in the bay from transmitting their information to the control room. He touched the controls. The little craft was flung outward into darkness and there was a tremendous jolt. For a second, he felt a wave of dizziness, and the springy safety webbing caught him, bouncing him gently back into his seat.
Then, all was still. Alan looked up at the viewscreen, which showed a uniform black. "We made it. Are you all right, Julia?"
She pushed strands of hair back from her face. "Just fine, thanks. My goodness!"
Alan checked the computer. "Kasal in eleven hours, eight minutes."
**********
Alan checked his chronometer. One more hour to Kasal. Mark would be there by now, and the exchange supposedly would be taking place. Alan chewed his nails, staring at the blank viewscreen. The fear that had hit him so strongly in his cabin on the Tin Soldier had now subsided to a dull feeling of uneasiness. Something was brewing, but he didn't know what it was.
Again, he glanced at the chronometer, then at the computer screen. They were making good time -- better, certainly, than expected. Hyperspace conditions must be just right. He just hoped that, whatever the problem, Mark could hold out until he arrived.
Julia drowsed in the copilot's seat. Alan sighed and tried to relax. He needed sleep badly. It had been well over twenty-four hours since he had slept, but he couldn't. Not yet. Not until he knew that his partner was safe.
He wondered for a moment what Kaley had done when he discovered that Alan and Julia were gone. Blast the man! Hadn't he learned anything about psychic partners from the time Mark had been taken by the Patrol? Nobody -- not even a commanding officer -- stood in the way of a psychic whose partner was in trouble. Almost a year ago, Kaley had attempted to do just that by keeping Alan a prisoner for his own safety, preventing him from going to Linley's aid. Mark had nearly died as a result of Patrol interrogation attempts. Alan had escaped from the Underground and rescued his partner, but the anger caused by Kaley's ill-judged action had exceeded all expectations. Most of the psychics and many of the non-psychics had sided with Alan, and the incident had caused a serious breach in the Underground's forces. Kaley had faced a reprimand from the Underground's Commander-in-Chief while Alan had received a political promotion. It had been an ugly, wretched business. He hoped sincerely that history wasn't about to repeat itself.**
A shrill beep from the panel and Julia stirred and sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Are we there?"
"Fifteen minutes," Alan said.
She glanced at him. "You haven't slept at all, have you?"
He shook his head.
She sighed and began to pin her hair back from her face. "I sure hope he's okay."
"Me too," Alan said.
"I wonder what General Kaley's doing." She finished fixing her hair and glanced at her chronometer.
"I was wondering the same thing," Alan said, grimly.
Julia rested a slim hand on his arm. "Don't be too hard on him, Alan. I'll bet he's shaking in his boots and probably thinking you're gone for good, this time. What did he say that set you off, anyway?"
Alan told her. Julia's lips pursed slightly. "Oh *dear*!"
Alan said nothing. His fear for his partner was intensifying again, accompanied by the knowledge that they were running out of time.
Julia might not be a psychic, but she could read him like the proverbial book. She patted his arm. "Take it easy. We'll be there in a few minutes. Let's play twenty questions."
"*What*?"
"It'll take your mind off it."
"I can't play a game right now!"
"Yes you can. Come on. I have somebody."
"Who?"
"That's for you to find out. And no mind reading."
"Uh ... male or female?"
"Male."
"Oh." Alan stared at the screen again. "Living or dead?"
"Living."
"Terran?"
"Yes."
He checked his chronometer. "George Astrahakis."
She punched him hard on the arm. "Drat you! I said no mind reading!"
"Huh? I didn't!"
"Sure you didn't! All you knew so far was that he was a living Terran male!"
"Oh. But gosh, Julia, didn't you have your shields up? I wasn't trying to read you, honest."
"Now why should I put my shields up, Colonel Westover? You're not supposed to read me without my consent, in case you've forgotten the regs."
"But I ..." Alan broke off with a little smile. "Sorry. I really wasn't paying attention."
She gave a sudden laugh. "That's okay. Now you pick somebody."
"Huh? Oh, all right." Alan thought a minute. "Okay, ready."
"Male or female?"
"Female."
"Terran?"
"Yes." Alan checked his chronometer again. Julia was right, naturally. Doing something certainly made the time go faster. They were almost there.
"Living or dead?"
"Living."
"Do I know her personally?"
"Yes." Alan jumped as a shrill beep sounded. The ship jolted slightly, and on the screen, the blackness of hyperspace gave way to star-studded darkness. A planet drifted into view.
Kasal was the third planet in a system of six, and the most striking thing about it was, naturally, the rings. They shone brilliant white, glittering like ice in the light of Kasal's star, and above them, in majestic grandeur, hung the planet's two large moons, one of them also showing a thin ring of glittering particles.
"Is it inhabited?" Julia asked. "I'm afraid I don't know anything about it."
"Not according to the log," Alan replied absently. "Except for some small wildlife -- and the Patrol outpost," he added as an afterthought.
"How big is the post?"
"Pretty small -- no more than a hundred men, Parnell said." Alan glanced at the computer display. "It's midsummer down there right now. The temperature's about fifteen degrees Celsius. A little chilly but not too bad. Gravity 0.97 Terran."
They plunged downward toward the planet. Alan punched in the coordinates that Parnell had given them and the ship altered course slightly. Kasal's surface rushed up at them, green and brown land masses, half a dozen large bodies of water, a few scattered mountain ranges, and directly below them a huge forested area.
"There they are!" Julia cried.
Alan saw them as she spoke. In a wide clearing, Linley's ship was down, and there seemed to be a small war on. Flashes of light blossomed back and forth between the little scout ship and a downed Patrol interceptor.
"Kid!" Mark's voice erupted suddenly from the communicator. "Get ridda that guy! Hurry!"
"Coming," Alan replied, suddenly calm now that he could actually see the danger for himself. He brought the ship around toward the crippled interceptor. A hundred meters to the south of it, the remains of another ship were blazing cheerfully.
He took the scout in a low pass over the interceptor, enjoying the reversal of roles. It was usually the Patrol ships that did the shooting at *him*.
The group on the ground saw him and there was a flurry of movement around the downed craft as patrolmen scattered. Alan's computer fired and the interceptor erupted into a seething ball of flame. The three surviving patrolmen fled toward the thickly forested area.
He let them go. Linley fired a shot after them and his voice came over the unit again. "Hurry! Get us outta here!"
"Coming," Alan responded.
"Where the dickens are our fighters?" Julia asked as he brought the scout down to a landing fifty meters from Mark's vessel. Linley ran toward them, pushing a figure before him. Alan opened the airlock and hurried through the small cabin to meet them, Julia on his heels. Mark arrived seconds later, the blaster still in his hand, and holding Lyn Parnell by one elbow. Her hands were secured behind her and she appeared really frightened for the first time since Alan had known her -- dark eyes wide and dilated in a paper-white face. Mark, in contrast, looked grim and self-possessed, although his flight suit was torn and there were smudges on forehead and cheek.
"Good to see you, kid," he said rapidly. "Nice rescue, thanks. We gotta get outta here fast."
"Where's Loften?" Alan asked. "And your escort?"
"Loften's dead, and one o' my fighters got clobbered by this guy." Mark nodded briefly at the blazing remains of the interceptor. "The other one took off that-a-way after another 'trol." He started to push Lyn through the airlock.
It was then that Alan felt the flash of warning.
"No!" he yelled. "Run! Run for the trees!"
Then the sound became audible -- the scream of another ship's engines.
They ran.
The forest was less than a kilometer away, a matter of three minutes for Mark, Alan and Julia, but Lyn was another matter. She stumbled and staggered, badly hampered by the cuffs. Alan pulled her along desperately, and behind them, the interceptor fired. The little ship in which he had come exploded into a mass of flames.
Lyn fell again and Alan pulled her desperately to her feet. Mark grabbed her and shoved her aside. "Leave her, dammit! She'll get us all killed!"
The ship was tracing a leisurely circle away from their blazing vessel. Linley yanked Alan on. "Hurry!"
Julia stumbled, going to one knee. Mark let Alan go and bent to help her. Alan glanced back.
Lyn had fallen and was trying to get to her feet again. As he watched, she sprawled forward once more. The interceptor was circling back, getting ready to make its attack run. Lyn was directly in its path.
Something rose in him then: fierce anger and sudden, unexpected pity for Lyn. Ignoring Linley's frantic shout, Alan ran back and yanked her unceremoniously to her feet. Flipping his blaster to needle beam, he burned the handcuffs away. She stared at him, her eyes wide and disbelieving.
"Run!" he snapped, giving her a push. "Go!"
He saw her whip about and obey. Then, with all his remaining strength, he was pounding after Mark and Julia.
They had almost reached the trees, but had turned back toward him. He saw Mark push Julia into the protecting underbrush, then start to run toward him. The roar of the approaching interceptor was almost on top of him, and he saw Mark fire a single, hopeless shot at it, knowing that there was no possible way to stop it in time.
Fire burst around him, and he heard, faintly, Julia's voice screaming his name. Brilliant light seared his eyes and he stumbled, falling forward to hands and knees. Then all about him the ground was burning fiercely, and it was with a sense of utter amazement that he realized that he was unharmed.
The Patrol ship was circling away again. Throwing his tunic over his face, Alan leaped through the dying flames, scorching himself on the burning debris. He burst free of the fire and Mark grabbed him, hustling him toward the trees, slapping at the burning patches on his clothing. Vaguely, through the humming in his ears, he heard the deep growl of the ship's landing mechanism.
"Comin' to fetch us!" Mark snapped. "Move!" Linley's arm clamped itself around him, herding him irresistibly forward.
He twisted his head about and saw the Patrol ship. It had settled into the clearing and patrolmen were pouring from it. A blaster cracked and Mark's weapon answered. Someone screamed. Julia fired from the shrubbery, covering their retreat.
Then, quite suddenly, he saw Lyn Parnell. In his mind, her figure was very clear and sharp, standing against the background of waving underbrush. Her body, slight and slender in the bedraggled silver clothing, was poised for flight, and the severed chains from the Terran handcuffs dangled from her wrists. Her eyes looked straight into his and she smiled.
Then the vision was gone as quickly as it had appeared, torn away by the sound of another ship coming in.
"Dammit! It's another one!" Mark dove for the bushes, dragging him along.
Julia grasped his other arm, and together they pulled him away into the forest.
His eyes weren't focusing well, and his knees were wobbling. Mark held him up. "Come on, kid. Don't give out on me yet."
But Mark's voice was fading out. Alan's knees buckled a second time and he fell forward.
----------
**"Two Giants for David".
**********
tbc
