The Crystal Demon: 18/?
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
XVIII
"What th'!" Mark Linley came to his feet, a charred strip of meat falling to the rock. "Alan! Holy sh --" He doubled over.
Julia ran to him and caught his arm. "What's going on? What's happening to him?"
Mark was incapable of answering. He choked as an overwhelming nausea swept over him, and began to gag uncontrollably. Julia eased him to the ground as Lyn stared in bewilderment.
"What's the matter?" she asked, coming forward to assist. "What's wrong with him? He was all right a minute ago."
Mark was busily losing his supper. Through the fog of nausea, he heard his companions speaking.
"Jeel!" Miki shrilled, sounding frantic. "Torra tempa tan! Vira! Vira!"
"Miki?" Lyn sounded completely mystified. "Do you know what's going on?"
"It's Alan, blast it!" Miki snapped in Basic. "He's in trouble, and he's linkin' with --"
"Shut up, Miki," Julia said.
Miki shut up. Mark groaned, feeling phantom hands grasping at his hair. This was happening to Alan, all of it. Alan was in trouble, and, as always, he was linked with Mark in moments of crisis. Julia understood, and, of course, so did Miki, who shared a similar relationship with Jeel. But the knowledge of the link between psychic and power pack was a guarded secret of the Underground, not to be disclosed to outsiders.
There was nothing he could do but suffer along with Alan. Dimly, he heard voices in the background -- the piping tones of the Shirva people and Alan, groaning miserably. Then the hand released his hair and he felt small hands pulling on him, sending fresh misery and nausea through him. Julia's arm was under his shoulders, and vaguely he thought that the last thing he wanted to do was to lose his meal all over her. Miki's voice came again.
"Is okay! Joola! Is okay now! Jeel's told 'em!"
"What?" Lyn's voice asked. "What are you talking about?"
The Shirva didn't answer. Mark became aware that Alan's level of consciousness was dropping, for he felt the link weakening. Vainly, he strove to preserve it, to hold on, but he failed, and a moment later Alan's mind was gone from his. The nausea departed as though by magic.
Julia was clutching his arm, and her voice was shrill with fright. "Mark! My god, Mark, answer me! Is he all right?"
"I think so." Linley sat up, weak and shaken, but once more master of his stomach. "He's still alive. I think Jeel helped him out."
"Damn right he did," Miki said triumphantly.
"How do you know?" Mark demanded. "Were you in contact with him, too?"
"No, o' course not." Miki grinned sheepishly. "But it's kinda hard when there's a link between you, not t'try an' make it work, even if you know it won't. But I sensed Alan linkin' with Mark, an --" He stopped at Julia's quick, silencing gesture. "What th'hell's wrong?"
"It's because I'm here, Miki," Lyn said. "There's a secret here that I'm not supposed to know about because I'm not a member of the Underground."
"Later, baby," Mark said, giving her a crooked grin. "We gotta pertect ourselves."
"But what happened to him?" Julia demanded. "Was it the natives?"
"I think so. I heard their voices." Mark glanced at Miki. "You know, don'tcha, kid?"
"Yeah, sure I do. Alan an' Jeel musta run into a bunch o' Shirva an' they used the Chu." He frowned. "I ain't supposed t'talk about it to you, though. It's a tribe secret."
"It's the stuff that makes 'em sick, I guess," Mark said. "They musta used it on Alan. He passed out, an' that's all I know." He frowned. "It won't do any permanent damage, will it, Mik?"
The Shirva shook his head Terran fashion. "Nope. Just make him sick for a while." He shrugged. "I guess issa okay. Alan's gonna tell you when he gets back anyway. We use the Chu -- spray it from the trees with this." He drew a small device, shaped vaguely like an old fashioned cake decorator, from his pouch. "The Chu s leaves, dried and ground up fine. It makes 'em awful sick -- so sick they don't care about nothin' else. That's when we gets 'em."
"I believe it." Mark brushed disdainfully at his soiled clothing and headed for the river.
**********
Alan awoke to broad daylight. For a few moments he lay still, trying to piece together the events before he lost consciousness. The happenings seemed vague and dreamlike now and his surroundings reinforced the sensation of a dream. His head felt very light and his whole body seemed to be floating in a bower of tiny, green leaves and sweet-smelling blossoms. Patches of blue sky dotted with white, sailing clouds were visible above him through layers of greenery. A fresh breeze touched his face.
Alan blinked and turned his head. His whole bed swayed with the movement, and he grabbed frantically for support. His hands met thin branches and more leaves.
The stuff beneath him steadied again and he looked cautiously around, taking care not to move suddenly. He was high above the ground, reclining perilously in a hammock that seemed to consist completely of intricately woven branches and leaves. It looked horribly frail.
Trying to quiet his heartbeats, Alan took a firm grip on the most substantial of the branches supporting him. He was naked, he realized, with a new sensation of horror, and his body was covered with a soft, furry animal skin.
"Hi kid!" a voice said.
Carefully, Alan turned his head again. There was Jeel, balancing effortlessly on a branch beside and a little above him. The small alien smiled tentatively, his eyes bright and clear, his cheeks flushed. "You feelin' better, huh?"
"Uh ... yeah, I guess so. Thanks." Alan tried to sit up and subsided again as the hammock swayed precariously. "How about you? You look a lot better."
"I'm doin' okay. Thanks."
Alan grinned. "Seems I've heard that song before."
"Song?" Jeel looked puzzled, then grinned. "I'm really okay now. I don't remember a whole lot, but my people say you carried me very far. They was followin' you, I guess, and when you started to take the tchi, *pow*! They letcha have it."
"And how!" Alan rubbed his stomach reflectively. "That was awful."
"So I tol' them you is a friend an' they quit. Then, they gave me the tchi, an' I tol' them all about you, an' Mark an' Julia."
"Oh, you did, huh?"
"Hell, yes. They is very happy to help, o' course. They gave me all the extra tchi they have, for Miki." He turned his head and uttered a piercing whistle. Instantly, other natives began to appear through the leaves, perching on branches around him, their faces solemn and staring. Alan pulled the skin up farther, feeling very vulnerable.
"Where's my clothes, Jeel?"
Jeel looked uncomfortable. "You were awful sick, Alan. The clothes is a helluva mess."
Memory flooded back -- the blackened knife, the incapacitating sickness -- and all at once the manner of the patrolmen's deaths was clear to him.
Jeel was watching him, looking worried and contrite. So were the other natives.
"I's awful sorry," Jeel said, soberly. "These are not from my tribe, or they woulda known. There's been lotsa 'trols around and they're getting' scared. And then you finds the tchi, an' --" He paused, making a strange, apologetic little gesture. "An' they nearly makes a very bad mistake."
Alan swallowed, feeling slightly dizzy again. "That's okay, Jeel."
The Shirva moved restlessly, whispering to one another. Jeel dropped nimbly to another branch, less than a meter away. "My people is awful sorry," he said, and again his hands made that strange little gesture. All the other Shirva emulated him.
"Oh, heck, that's okay. They didn't know." Alan gave Jeel a weak grin. The Shirva grinned back, obviously relieved that he had taken no offense.
"You're always nice, Alan. You never get mad." Jeel turned and chattered glibly to the other natives. They all relaxed, smiles appearing on their faces. A few approached cautiously, speaking shyly in the Shirva language. Alan answered them as best he could.
A murmur of excitement ran through the crowd when he answered them in their own tongue. They crowded forward, clearly delighted that he spoke their language, and speaking far too rapidly for him to follow. It was amazing, he reflected, that Miki and Jeel had picked up Basic so rapidly, even allowing for their photographic memories. Alan had always prided himself on his ability to learn a foreign language, but the Shirva seemed to have a real affinity for it.
He spoke to Jeel again. "What was that stuff they used? All I heard was a hissing sound, and then I was losing my socks."
"What?" Jeel said, blankly.
"Uh ... how did they make me so sick?"
"Oh." Jeel hesitated and then shrugged. "Issa secret, but I guess you got a right t'know. We call it Chu. Issa leaf, dried and pounded to powder. We spray it from the trees, an' it makes you awful sick."
"And while you're throwing up, the Shirva finish you off with their poisoned knives."
"You better believe it," Jeel said. He leaped, landing carelessly in the hammock beside Alan. The frail little bed tipped sickeningly, and Alan gave a yelp of alarm, clutching for support. Jeel's small arms encircled his neck, hugging him. "Damn! I'm glad you're okay, Alan!" He laughed shrilly. "I was scared silly they wouldn't listen t'me when I tells them you was a friend."
"I'm just glad you helped me," Alan said, a little shakily.
"An why the hell not? You's helpin' us for nothin'!" Jeel laughed again, and the other natives crowded forward. He was lifted easily from the hammock, supported by many small hands, and half-carried through the branches to a large, very sturdy limb. The natives deposited him there and clustered around him, chattering happily. A bowl of food was placed in his lap. Alan clutched the animal skin, that had somehow managed to stay with him during the transition. Someone else placed a flask of clear water in his free hand. He stammered confused thanks in the Shirva language, and was assured that he was quite welcome, and that they were happy to do all they could to make him happy. Roasted strips of meat were added to the bowl of mush, and a small female sat down beside him, huddling close. Jeel watched him, grinning.
**********
It was midday when they started their return journey. Alan had obtained extra food and water from their little hosts, and found that his tattered clothing had been laundered and dried. A valiant attempt had even been made to mend the numerous rents, and he felt almost fresh again as they began their long march back.
Again, they were accompanied for the first day and well into the evening by a small band of natives, but as night fell, they were once again on their own, tearing a path through the brambles and undergrowth. Jeel's strength seemed limitless now, and he traveled at a tremendous pace. Alan, panting along behind him, could hardly believe that this was the same little fellow who had hung limply on his back the night before.
They traveled until well after daybreak and at last Alan called a halt. Jeel turned as though surprised. "You are tired?"
"Aren't you?" Alan dropped onto a fallen long.
"Not much." Jeel sat down beside him, his eyes flickering nervously around, and through the blur of fatigue, Alan sensed his impatience. For the moment, however, he was simply too tired to care. Jeel met his eyes and smiled. "It's okay, kid. You can sleep."
Alan needed no second invitation. Pulling his cape tight around him, he slept.
It seemed that he had hardly closed his eyes when he felt Jeel's hands on his shoulders, shaking him. "Come on, Alan, kid. Let's get a move on."
Alan sat up, rubbing his eyes. His chronometer informed him that he had slept six hours, and the sun was sinking toward the horizon again. Jeel pressed meat strips into his hands. "Please, Alan, let's go."
"Okay." Alan stumbled miserably to his feet. The sky overhead was full of scudding clouds and the wind was definitely rising. Another storm was on the way.
Jeel was already moving, his feet silent in the leaves, and Alan followed, trying hard to be as stealthy as his small companion. As evening deepened into night, it began to rain, the wind howling breeze.
There had been no sign of any search parties, a fact that, for some reason, made Alan vaguely uneasy. They kept moving, slogging on through the wetness. Jeel's steps never faltered. The trees began to thin out at last, and the rain let up. Wet leaves clung to their clothing.
Jeel paused suddenly. "You wanna rest?"
He nodded. "Let's have something to eat, too."
"Right." Jeel sat cross-legged beneath a bushy tree and brought food from his pack. Alan sat beside him, lowered his shields and reached telepathically for Lyn's mind. Nothing; no flicker of consciousness. He really hadn't expected it. She would be keeping her shields up now, of course. It was too likely that the Jils were already searching for them in person.
Jeel was watching him. "Any Jils around, kid?"
Alan was still having trouble with the Shirva calling him 'kid'. It just didn't seem right for someone so much smaller than he. "I don't sense any," he said.
A pause. Jeel chewed thoughtfully on a slab of bread. "Maybe they ain't lookin' now," he said. "Maybe they've given up."
Alan didn't answer. His uneasiness was increasing rapidly. The clouds above were breaking up and a meteor traced a bright path across the slowly lightening sky. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to relax, but failed. Fear tingled on his skin.
He sat up. "Let's go."
The Shirva's eyes widened. "What'sa matter?"
"Nothing. I don't know. Let's go."
Jeel scrambled to his feet. "Okay."
The early morning wind blew cool on their faces and the ground had become a gradual slope, dotted with low trees and shrubbery. The sky overhead lightened slowly to a pale blue, patched with small, bright clouds. Jeel at last seemed to be tiring and Alan was keeping pace easily. Kasal's sun rose slowly over the eastern horizon.
"Yeep!" It was Jeel. Alan spun to see the little native, his hands covering his ears, and his eyes wide with horror. "Miki!" he shrilled. "Turra fan! Lor nava!"
"They've found them!" Alan gasped. Miki, like Alan, was linking with his psychic partner when danger threatened. "Jeel, what's going on?"
Jeel's Basic deserted him. He poured out a stream of Shirva words, his eyes wild with terror. Recklessly, he began to run up the slope and Alan followed, lowering his own shields as he did so. Lyn's mind closed with his with shocking intensity.
"Alan! Help us! It's a Jil!"
**********
XIX
Jeel, second son to Lavil and psychic partner to Miki, the only remaining Rassa remaining in the Vakanee tribe, ran, staggering, up a steep slope. He was tired, the constant strain of the past days, coupled with almost no Tchi, beginning to wear on him, but it didn't matter now. Miki's voice cried out in terror inside his mind and he could feel his partner's fear. Miki was trying to run but he was too weak to move quickly. Someone was chasing him and through the link, Jeel could hear the reports of blasters and bellowed orders from patrolmen.
Alan and he raced up the slope, the Terran Rassa now keeping pace easily. It was fat to go -- too far. They would never reach the campsite in time to help. Jeel choked back a sob, then gave a cry of surprise as a strange, numbing tingle washed over him. Black spots jumped out of the air before him and he felt his knees buckle.
Alan lifted him to his feet. "Jeel! Snap out of it! Jeel, wake up!"
Jeel shook his head, feeling strangely blurred, as though just awakening from a fevered sleep. "Miki!" he croaked. "Miki!"
"That was a stunbolt, Jeel." Alan's answer in the Shirva language was slow, but correct, and Jeel realized that in his distress he had neglected the Terran the courtesy of using his own language. Alan showed no resentment, however, and was again pulling him along. Jeel stumbled beside him, angry at his own weakness. They reached the summit of the hill and began to run across an open space. Gradually, Jeel's strength returned and his steps became surer.
The returning presence of Miki's mind within his again made him cry out. His partner was in terrible pain, his head pounding, his stomach sick. Jeel staggered and fell, overwhelmed by the sensations.
Alan pulled him upright and clamped an arm around him. "He's okay. He's just waking up from the stunbolt. It's kind of tough at first."
Jeel gagged. "I'll kill them for this!" he managed.
"No time for that." The Terran's powerful hands caught him and lifted him effortlessly to one shoulder. It was humiliation, the ease with which Alan carried him along. Jeel was considered rather big and husky by his tribe. He tried to protest, but found himself incapable of more than a groan. Alan ignored it, holding him in place with one hand and ripping his way onward through the low underbrush.
Slowly, the symptoms of the stunbolt subsided and Jeel felt vividly his partner's terror. Faintly through the link, he could hear voices. He kicked feebly. "Let me down, Alan. I'm okay."
Alan lowered him effortlessly, grasped his hand and pulled him on. Miki's voice cried out in his mind, but the words were disjointed and senseless. Jeel fought back his fear and concentrated his efforts on keeping pace with Alan.
They had traveled a long way when the sound of rushing water came faintly to his ears. Alan at last seemed to be tiring, for his steps were wobbling and his breath came in ragged gasps. His knees buckled at last and he fell, pulling Jeel down beside him. They lay still in the softly moving grass, listening to the sound of the rushing stream near at hand. It was loud and close, but all else was ominously silent.
"They're gone," Alan said.
"Yes," Jeel said. He felt sobs of defeat rising in his throat, but Alan gave him no time for grief. Already, his big companion was lifting him upright.
"Come on!"
They ran the remainder of the distance, the Terran's mighty arm pulling him ruthlessly along. Moments later, they burst from the shrubbery and found themselves looking down at their former campsite.
It lay calm and serene in the late morning sun. Julia's fishing pole hung across some rocks, the string still dangling in the water, and beside it there was a light smearing of blood across the rocks. Beside that lay a hairpin. A scent of burned hair and charred flesh was evident as they dropped the distance to the rocks. Miki's voice called despairingly in his mind. Jeel closed his eyes, concentrating. His friend was moving away from him and there was an impression' of jolting and of being jammed into a small space between two large, fearsome bodies.
Alan bent over the smeared blood, touching it with one finger. "Julia's," he said. "Looks like they put up a fight." He turned to Jeel. "Are you still linked? What's happening?"
"They's in a crawler, I think. Miki ain't sure what's goin' on. He's feeling awful, an' he's scared spitless, dammitall!"
Alan stood up. "You can find him, can't you?"
"Yeah, sure, but --" Jeel broke off, watching the Terran. Alan was frowning and Jeel saw him pass a hand across his eyes. "What is wrong?"
"Something's not right." He turned toward the rushing stream. "We're overlooking something important."
Jeel also turned to look at the water. It was hard to concentrate with Miki's voice still crying out for help, but Jeel knew that when a Rassa looked like that, it had to be important. He turned to look at the rushing stream and almost at once noticed the discrepancy. The large rock, just beneath the surface and almost hidden by drooping tree branches, had not been there before. Any Shirva with his instincts still intact would have noticed, and Jeel wondered how it had escaped his attention before.
"Is this, dammit!" He splashed forward through the water, grasping at rocks for balance, gripped the tree branches in one hand and leaned down to pull the rock away. The Bovva Ra was there, wedged deeply between two rocks and covered by the strange, shiny cloth. As the rock that weighed it down came away, the globe bobbed to the surface and the cloth floated free. Caught in the current, it whirled away.
Alan was right beside him, and Jeel heard the Rassa cry out in surprise and pain, covering his face with one arm. Jeel caught the globe, knowing his danger, but choosing to ignore it for the moment. Three steps brought him to the metallic cloth that had become entangled in the trailing tree branches. He pulled it free and wrapped it around the thing, feeling, as he did so, a faint pain within his head. The feeling lingered for a moment after the thing was covered, and his vision blurred slightly, then it diminished and was gone.
He shook his head to clear it and splashed his way back to Alan. The Terran Rassa looked slightly dazed. Jeel patted him comfortingly on the knee. "It is okay, Alan. I got it covered good."
Alan heaved a deep sigh. "It struck at me again. I'll swear it did." His face changed. "You touched it with your bare hands? Jeel, that was dangerous!"
"I'm okay, dammit. I got it wrapped in the cloth. We gotta go. Miki's callin' me. Things is getting' tight."
Alan surveyed him for a moment, and Jeel could feel the light touch of the Rassa's mind. "All right. Lead me to them."
"Gotcha." Jeel stuffed the wrapped globe into his belt pouch and splashed his way across the stream, plunging forward into the underbrush. Alan followed.
**********
tbc
