The Crystal Demon: 21/?
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
XXIII
"Straight ahead." Jeel's whisper was barely audible, his steps utterly silent on the damp leaves. "They have stopped, I think."
Alan's shields were up tight due to the close proximity of the Jilectan, so he could only take Jeel's word for it. Underbrush waved wildly before him in the path of the approaching storm. There was a vivid flash of lightning, and thunder crashed.
As the rumbling died, Alan caught the murmur of voices ahead. A Jilectan, he thought, was speaking, and Julia's voice answered.
Alan's lips tightened. Mark was up there somewhere, his psychic partner, the prisoner of one of the alien overlords. That meant death for the Jilectan, if Alan could manage it. The alien had undoubtedly already read Mark's mind and knew the location of the Lavirra base. That meant that Alan must dispose of the Jilectan before the news could be relayed to his comrades, and in the event that the information had already been relayed, Alan must somehow get a hyperspace radio and send a warning.
But first he must rescue his friends. Jeel glanced at him, and then touched the small weapon at his hip.
"I'll fix 'em," he said softly. "While they're throwin' up, you helps me finish 'em."
Alan nodded, and Jeel vanished silently into the tree overhead.
Again, he heard the voices, and then a sudden shriek. Alan nearly jumped out of his skin, but realized instantly that the scream hadn't come from any of his friends. The shriek was echoed by several more, then a fluent string of curses, and over it all, the loud, familiar hissing of the Ekkes.
Yes, they were very near the creature's cave. Alan hurried forward, trying hard to be quiet, the blaster clutched in his hand. He heard Julia scream, and the sound of a blow.
Through waving branches, he took in the scene. There were two crawlers, and in one of them was the large, silver-clad form of a Jilectan. With a start, Alan recognized him. Halthzor, himself, his body shielded by the figures of two patrolmen, and the slender, struggling form of Julia Austell. Halthzor was gripping her firmly, his face a grim, angry mask. On the ground, Mark Linley was kicking frantically at two patrolmen who were struggling to subdue him. Lyn was on her knees beside him, wrenching desperately at the restrainers that secured her hands behind her. Beyond her, Miki lay still and quiet on the ground. Patrolmen were boiling from the Ekkes' cave.
Overhead, there was a faint hissing sound and Alan saw Miki stir, lifting his head. No one else seemed to notice anything.
Then, the patrolmen holding Mark doubled over, retching violently, and Linley also ceased struggling, his shoulders heaving with spasms. Julia voiced a faint gurgling sound. Lyn slumped to the ground, moaning and retching, while all the remaining patrolmen sank down with groans and curses. Miki made it to his feet, staggered forward three steps, and collapsed.
Of all those in the clearing before him, Halthzor alone seemed unaffected. He reacted with the lightning reflexes of his species, shoving Julia aside and leaping from the crawler toward the prostrate form of Mark Linley.
If it hadn't been for the wildly tossing branches, Alan would have ended it all right there. His blaster spoke, and the beam caught Halthzor's shoulder. The Jilectan noble voiced a startled yell and returned the fire.
Alan dove sideways, feeling a stinging sensation as the beam singed his leg. He achieved the deeper shrubbery, twisted about and fired again.
But Halthzor was moving, leaping backward with far more speed and dexterity than Alan would have credited him, considering his injured arm.
Overhead, there was an odd whistling sound, and a long, wicked-looking dart was suddenly clinging to Halthzor's tunic, just below the Jilectan's pale, smooth throat. Halthzor sent a last shot in Alan's direction and spun, sweeping Julia up in his uninjured arm.
Alan scrambled forward, trying to ignore the hurt leg, and fired another shot after the fleeing Jilectan. Red hair shriveled as the beam hissed above his head, missing by a centimeter, and then he was gone into the waving underbrush.
Alan tried to get to his feet, but the injured leg buckled beneath him. Jeel dropped lightly from the branches overhead, shouting his name. Alan pushed himself up on his hands and staggered to his feet, clutching the injured thigh. "Go after him, Jeel! I can't!"
Jeel glanced briefly at the leg then at Miki, on the ground. "Take care of my partner," he said, and ran lightly across the clearing, reached the spot where Halthzor had vanished and leaped nimbly upward.
Alan paused to catch his breath, surveying the clearing. Everyone, his friends and patrolmen alike, seemed to be completely incapacitated. No, not quite everyone ...
Miki got to his knees, his face very pale, but smiling widely. "Hi, Alan," he whispered weakly.
"Hi, Miki." Alan limped painfully over to him and turned him around, untying the ropes binding his wrists. "Are you okay?"
"Sure. Never better, dammit." The Shirva rubbed his wrists and turned to look at the miserable beings in the clearing. "Where is Julia?" he inquired at once.
"Halthzor took her. He didn't seem bothered by the Chu. Jeel went after them."
Miki nodded, looking very puzzled. Alan glanced in the direction that Halthzor had vanished. "I'd better go after them. Can you handle things here?"
"Sure. Can do, kid." The Shirva grinned again. "You have some Tchi?" he inquired hopefully.
"Gosh, I'm sorry. Jeel has it."
Miki's face fell for an instant, then brightened again. "Okay, you go. I'll take care o' things here."
Alan methodically stunned the patrolmen and then bent over Linley. "Mark, are you okay?"
Mark was clearly incapable of replying. Alan squeezed his arm. "I'm going after Halthzor. I'll be right back."
His partner voiced a miserable groan. Alan took a deep breath, feeling slightly sick, himself. Then, favoring the injured leg, he limped toward the underbrush. Miki, he saw, was on his feet, bending over Lyn.
He tore his way through masses of wet greenery, his psychic senses scanning like radar. Halthzor was certainly still ahead, somewhere, and for a brief, very unpleasant moment, their minds touched. Alan tore free, his shields automatically snapping shut.
A moment later he opened them carefully. Halthzor was still ahead, but the psychic aura was getting rapidly fainter.
"Alan!"
Alan nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of his name so near at hand. Jeel dropped neatly before him.
"We gotta hurry!" the Shirva informed him. "The Jil got picked up by a damn flying thing ... a -- a ..."
"An aircar?"
"Yes, dammit! An' he's tellin' the 'trols in the car t'call for help. They're gonna be here, quick!"
"What about Julia?"
"He took her along, dammit! Quick!" Jeel began to run back toward the spot where they had left the others, dragging Alan along. "That Jil is awful fast! I ain't never seen nothin' like it. I tried awful hard, an' I sprayed Chu on him twice more, but he don't get sick. Just poor Julia." Jeel cussed fluently. "I'm awful sorry for her, Alan. That Jil's gonna kill her, ain't he?"
Alan simply nodded. Ahead, he could hear voices, accompanied by soft groans, and a moment later they reached the clearing.
Mark was sitting up, his hands still secured behind him with restrainers and his face papery white. Lyn was on her knees beside him, groaning softly while Miki patted her comfortingly on the head.
"Are you okay, kid?" Mark demanded. He swore. "He gotcha on the leg. I thought I felt somethin' --"
"He just brushed me," Alan said. He bent over his partner and removed the restrainers. "Are *you* okay? You have a cut on your cheek."
"Just a scratch. Did Halthzor get away?"
Alan nodded. "With Julia. I'm sorry." He bent over Lyn and removed her restrainers. "We have to get out of here right now. He radioed for help. They'll be here in a few minutes."
"Thought so." Mark sighed. "I'll get her loose, though." He ended the sentence with a four-letter word.
Alan slipped a hand under his elbow. "Hurry. What'll we do with all the 'trols --" He broke off as he realized something. "Oh gosh! The 'trols are all dead!"
"Not all," Miki said smugly. "I did not kill that one." He pointed at one of the prone figures. "I's a'thinkin' maybe you'll be wantin' to question him, an' besides, Mark is friendly with him."
The patrolman in question groaned and began to gag.
Linley nodded and winced. "Good work, kiddo. Listen, you better have some tchi an' we'll go."
"I already have, thanks." Miki grinned widely. "Already I'm feelin' a lot better, thanks a lot. C'mon. Jeel an' me'll find a place to hide."
Mark bent over the patrolman. "C'mon, Davis, time to go." He pulled the retching man's hands behind him and fastened them with his own restrainers, disarmed him and half-lifted him to his feet.
Alan helped Lyn up and put an arm around her. "Are you okay?"
She clung to him weakly, and he could feel her body trembling. Mark touched his arm. "She was feelin' pretty wiped out, kid. You gonna need help with her?"
Alan shook his head. "Lead the way, Jeel. We'll follow."
The two Shirva led them away through the scrubby underbrush. Rain still pattered down, and thunder rumbled overhead. Lyn clung to him, but he realized quickly that they were each lending partial support to the other; a pair of walking wounded, Alan thought disgustedly.
Twenty minutes later, Miki and Jeel stopped them. They had found another cave, the overhang above a small riverbed. Tree roots hung downward like tentacles. Alan staggered inside, now leaning heavily on Lyn, who seemed to be rapidly regaining her strength. Mark followed, pushing the captive patrolman before him, and the two Shirva scrambled after them. Miki grinned at Alan, thumping him heartily on the shoulder.
"Thanks for helpin' out!" Miki spoke in a strange mixture of Terran, Shallockian and Bellian accents. "Jeel says you was terrific."
"You're welcome," Alan said. "I just wish we'd been a little faster."
Mark shoved the captive against the damp cave wall. "An' now, Davis, we got a few questions. Don't try'n lie, 'cause Alan's gonna be scannin' you. He'll pick it right up, an' I'm in no mood t'play games. Got me?"
Davis was staring at Alan, his face stark white. "Westover!" he croaked. "Where the hell did he come from?"
"We're askin' the questions, Davis. How many other Jils are on Kasal, now?"
Davis's eyes flicked to Alan's face. "Just Linthvar and Panthvar, I guess -- unless Panthvar died. He was burned awful bad."
"Lyn got him with emergency max," Mark explained briefly to Alan. "Okay, Davis, I wantcha t'draw us a map of the base."
"Okay." Davis nodded jerkily. "You aren't going to kill me, are you, Strike Commander? I mean, I'm really sorry about the knife. When a Jil tells you to do something --"
"Sure, I ain't mad -- not at you, anyway. Take it easy. All you gotta do is cooperate an' you'll live through this. We gotta get Julia loose, an' we're gonna need your help. An' your uniform," he added as an afterthought.
Lyn crawled over to the man. "Corporal Davis?"
His head jerked convulsively. "Yeah?"
"My father -- Halthzor *was* lying, wasn't he?"
Davis shook his head. "I don't know, Miss, but I think he was. Last I heard, Commander Parnell was scheduled for public execution and was being taken to Corala on some Jil's private yacht. But, apparently, the yacht hasn't arrived on Corala, and nobody knows what's happened to it."
Mark grinned at her. "I could make a guess, though."
Lyn's face lit up. "You mean --"
"Honey, our C.O. never misses a trick. Your dad fulfilled his part of the bargain, and even though the Underground wasn't really obligated to help him, Kaley would jump a the chance for a piece of propaganda like that. I can hear it now -- Patrol officer, condemned by the Jilectans for trying to save his daughter, welcomed by the Underground. We try to follow that anyway, and make sure it's known, but your dad is probably the highest-ranking officer we've ever had to bail out of trouble. It'll be a plus for us if the word gets around." He turned back to the patrolman. "But right now we gotta get Julia loose."
"What about Halthzor?" Alan crawled over beside his companions. "Didn't he read your mind?"
"He tried to," Mark said, "but he couldn't."
"What?"
"You heard. My shieldin' musta held up. Maybe I was scared enough, or somethin'."
"But -- that's impossible! Your shielding *couldn't* hold up! Not against Halthzor!"
"I know," Mark said, "but it did. I always know when I'm bein' read. I'm real good at that." He glanced at Davis and shifted suddenly to English. "Maybe my shields got better all of a sudden or somethin'. Try'n read me now. M'shields are up good and tight."
Alan concentrated a moment, feeling his partner's shields part with only a little effort. Mark felt it too and swore.
"Duke Halthzor wears frilly underwear," Alan said.
"Damn!" Mark said. "I can't explain it, kid, but I *know* he wasn't able to read me."
Miki spoke suddenly, and Alan realized without surprise that the Shirva psychic had followed the conversation without difficulty. Miki was probably picking up the meaning from Alan's mind. "Mark is right. Halthzor couldn't a' done it."
"Huh? That's crazy."
"No it ain't. Mark has a Droma."
"Droma?" Alan said blankly.
"Sure."
Mark unexpectedly drew his blaster from its holster and fired a stun beam. Davis yipped and slumped forward. "No sense tellin' our friend all about it, too. He'll wake up in a few minutes and then he can draw us our map. Go ahead, Miki."
"Sure, okay." The Shirva didn't even glance at the unconscious patrolman. "You remember I told you about the things my people used to fight the globes?" He hesitated for an instant and then reached inside his loose tunic to withdraw a stone similar to the one Mark wore. "This one is mine. Halthzor couldn't o' read me, either, even if my shields were down. A Droma protects the psychic it ... it likes from enemy psychic energy."
"Now wait a minute." Alan was totally lost. "Start at the beginning and explain."
"Dromas are helpers," Miki said. "Weapons of my people. They're passed down from father to son. Some psychics have 'em, an' others don't. They protect us from bad psychic energy, like the globes, or Halthzor too, I guess."
"But -- do your people make them?"
"Make 'em? Oh no. They just come to us. Mine has been in my family for lotsa years." Miki looked proud. "My family's old."
"But how do they come to you? Are they alive?"
Miki frowned. "Not exactly."
"What do you mean?"
Miki shrugged. "Awful hard to explain," he muttered. "They don't eat, an' they don't drink, an' they don't have kids, so I guess they ain't alive, huh? But they act alive. They help the psychic they choose, an' that psychic's son. There ain't too many, any more. The globes killed a lot of 'em."
"You talk like it's alive," Mark said.
"Maybe it is. It's sorta hard to explain. Don't yours feel alive to you, Mark?"
Linley hesitated a moment, looking embarrassed. "Well yeah, I guess so."
"Sure, mine too. The one you got, its owner musta died, I guess, so it chose you. You're right for it. It won't work for anybody else."
"But Mik, I ain't a psychic. You said it only works for Shirva psychics, didn't you?"
Miki looked mysterious. "Some of 'em pick people like Jeel, too -- who aren't psychics but are."
"But --" Mark stopped, looking at Alan. "Can you figure it out?"
"No, but maybe the psychic experts can, once we get back to base."
A shadow passed across Linley's expression and for a moment his hand came up to cover the little stone. "Yeah," he said. "Maybe."
"What exactly did it do?" Alan asked. "What was that business with Davis's knife?"
"Oh yeah. Man, you shoulda seen it! Halthzor was tryin' to get Lyn to talk by threatenin' to cut me up with Davis's knife. An' this thing -- I swear it -- it attacked the Duke, cut off his breathin' an' stopped him dead in his tracks. And then, he ordered the 'trols to kill me!"
"I suppose that's how you got that cut on your cheek."
"Huh? Oh, that ain't nothin'. Just listen. Those 'trols tried to kill me -- three times -- an' the last time the guy set the blaster on max! It didn't even touch me! Bounced right off."
Alan stared at him. "That's impossible."
"Yeah, but it happened."
Alan turned to Miki. "And the Droma protected him from *blaster* fire? That's not a psychic enemy."
Miki looked confused. "Yes, I know. I ain't understandin' it, neither."
Lyn shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, Mark --"
"At least it made Halthzor change his mind about killin' me," Mark said. "He was tryin' to get information outta Lyn, like I said. It kinda backfired."
Miki began to dig in his pack. "I got somethin' for you, Lyn," he said irrelevantly. "Here." He presented a small, gold circlet, crusted in gold and tani crystals, to her. "One o' the 'trols picked it up after Halthzor threw it away."
Lyn took the item, and Alan saw that her eyes had filled with tears. "Thank you, Miki," she whispered. She leaned forward suddenly and kissed the Shirva on one cheek, dirt and all. Miki looked surprised, but pleased.
"It's okay, for the luvvamike," he said.
The patrolman groaned and Mark turned quickly toward him. "Good. He's comin' to. Let's get that map drawn."
"We'll have to wait a little while," Alan said. "At least until it gets dark."
"We gotta get her out!" Mark said. "She ain't never been interrogated before, an' with three Jils here, they're bound to get somethin' out of her!"
"I know." Alan grimaced. "I sure hate to think of what she's going to go through."
Davis was retching miserably on the floor of the cave. Alan bent over and helped him to sit up. The man coughed and groaned. "Why'd you do that, Strike Commander?" he asked resentfully.
"Shut up," Mark said, his voice suddenly harsh. He dug in a pocket and produced a crumpled notebook and stylus. "Start drawin'."
Davis groaned. "Just a minute."
"Let him recover," Alan said softly. "He'll do a better job."
Linley nodded and sat back with obvious impatience. Alan put a comradely hand on his shoulder.
"She'll hold out. Julia's tough."
"I hope so. Y'know, kid, she hid that damned globe somewhere before our friends showed up. Halthzor was tryin' to get her to tell him where. That's why she led us on that wild marshhopper chase to the Ekkes' cave, an' --"
Alan nodded. "I figured it might be that. But as for the globe, Jeel has it."
Miki started violently.
"Jeel! How in hell __" Mark stopped, a slow grin forming on his features. "I shoulda known. How did *you* get it, Jeel?"
Jeel was silent, staring at the cave floor. Miki was glaring at him.
Alan cleared his throat, aware of the tension between the two Shirva. "We found it at the campsite. Jeel dug it out from under a rock."
Miki held out a shaking hand. "Jeel! Turva nat ta!"
Alan stared in astonishment. Miki had gone white, and Jeel was shrinking back from him, murmuring words of excuse. There was fury in Miki's features as well as his words. "Turva nat ta!" he repeated.
Jeel hastily removed the still-wrapped globe from his pack and handed it to Miki. "Iva spinta, Miki," he whispered. The words were an obvious apology.
Miki snatched the object from him and spun on his knees as though to hurl the thing away. Alan and Mark grabbed him together.
"Hey!" Alan said, "don't be mad at *him*! He picked it up so I wouldn't have to!"
"He *shouldn't*!" Miki snapped back. "Never should he touch it, dammit! Better you, Alan, who have some protection from it, even though it hurts you! Jeel it won't hurt! It will kill him, after it takes him!" He stopped, closing his mouth firmly. "I can't explain good, dammit! It's his shielding! It ain't good enough against that critter!"
"Oh." Alan's anger evaporated. "Well, hold on, then. If he can't carry it, who should? We can't just throw it away."
Miki glanced at Linley. "Mark is safe from it. His Droma will protect him."
Linley extended a hand. "Gimmie it, kid."
Alan watched Mark take the disputed object with misgivings. Miki had perfect confidence in the little stone they had found, and Alan had to admit that, so far, the thing had performed wonders, but Mark was staking his life on it, now.
"Listen!" Lyn whispered. "I hear something!"
Alan heard it, too, although not with his ears. Psychic senses told him that someone was approaching, and his shields snapped up tight.
Mark pressed the muzzle of his blaster against Davis's temple. "Don't try nothin' stupid," he said.
The patrolman remained frozen until the tramp of boots faded into the distance. A moment later, an aircar passed overhead. Lyn shrank against Alan, with a frightened gasp.
"A Jil, Alan! I'm sensing a Jil!"
Alan clamped an arm around her. "Put your shields up! Get them up tight, Lyn!"
Her hands clutched his arm, clinging desperately. "They are, but I don't know if they're good enough. Halthzor went through them. He sensed that I was a psychic."
"Halthzor's something special as Jils go," Alan said. "And that's probably not Halthzor, anyway. He'll be staying with Julia for now, trying to get the location of the globe."
Lyn nodded, her eyes very close to his in the dimness. They were dark brown with tiny flecks of gold, and her dark, wavy hair clung damply to her forehead. He was suddenly very aware of her proximity and of her body against his. Her hands were small and must once have been white and smooth, but were now covered with scratches and dirt, the palms blistered and rough from her ordeal in the forests of Kasal.
She wasn't beautiful, he decided. At least, most men wouldn't have thought so. But she attracted him -- an attraction that had been apparent when he had first seen her back on Xenis. The feeling still remained in spite of their desperate situation, and the fact that he was tired to the point of exhaustion.
"Look," Mark said, "I'm gonna put on this damned uniform and head for the post."
"Wait until dark," Alan said. "Please."
"You think she can hold out that long?"
"Sure I do." Alan spoke with more confidence than he felt. "You know Julia. She'll stall 'em. And, when it's night, I can go with you to the end of the forest, anyway."
Mark opened his mouth to protest and then closed it again. "Okay," he said, but his voice sounded strained. "I trust your judgement."
Alan tried to make his voice sound firm. "You'd better try to sleep. You look like you've been up all night."
"I was, pretty near. You finished with that drawin' yet, Davis?"
"Yessir." The patrolman handed the slip of paper to Mark, who accepted it, studying it closely.
"Okay," he said after a moment, "she's probably bein' held in the brig."
Alan nodded. "Probably. When night comes, we'll go. I wish I had some kind of uniform -- a maintenance worker or something."
"Yeah, I know. I'm sure gonna need you once I'm on the base." He paused, glancing at Davis. "Any way for m'partner to get hold of another uniform, Jim? One that might fit him?"
The patrolman's lips quirked. "'Trols don't come that small, sir."
"Yeah, I know. I was thinkin o' other kinds o' uniforms -- valets, maintenance techs -- that kinda thing."
"Oh." Davis fell silent, thinking. "There's a guard shack not too far from the trees, but it's inside the gate. The maintenance men's barracks is attached to it, but I don't see how --"
Alan considered that. "I might manage something. If there was a problem with the energy barrier, they'd surely send someone out to correct it."
Lyn stared at him. "What are you going to do?"
"I don't know yet -- exactly. We'll see, when it gets dark."
Mark glanced at his chronometer. "That's six hours. She's gonna go through hell before then."
"Mark, there's nothing else we can do. Getting caught, ourselves, isn't going to help her."
Linley grimaced. "I know."
Alan rested a hand on his arm. "She'll hold out. She'll know we'll be trying to get to her."
"Yeah, I know."
"Besides, this is a small base, and they weren't expecting an invasion. They probably don't even have an interrogation chair."
"Jils don't need one," Linley said. "He'll think o' somethin' else. Halthzor's smart."
Alan knew it, of course. He had faced Halthzor only once, and very briefly, as a prisoner, but it had been a terrifying experience. He had never forgotten it.
"Lie down," he told his partner. "Try to sleep."
Linley gave him a strained grin. "Yeah, sure."
**********
Alan sat at the entrance of the cave. It was still raining, and the mist was cold on his face. So much the better. The worse the weather, the fewer people were likely to come out to investigate the malfunction that was going to occur.
Mark was asleep. It had taken some time, and one of Alan's famous "empathic bedtime stories" as Linley called them, to do the trick. The "story" had also worked on Lyn and the two Shirva, for they too had fallen asleep. Matt Philips had explained the phenomenon as a form of hypnotism, quite without conscious control on Alan's part, but whatever it was, it worked perfectly. Alan would begin to talk quietly of inconsequential things, and the action had a soothing effect on those around him. It wouldn't work, of course, if the person did not want to be put to sleep, as in the case of the patrolman. Jim Davis was wide awake, and his mind was busy. Alan's mind was also busy, reading the man's thoughts as fast as they surfaced. He had to be careful, of course, with his shields down, for it was still likely that there was a Jil or two looking for them. Panthvar was certainly out of the running for a while, and Halthzor would be busy with Julia. That left his old friend, Lord Linthvar.
Alan smiled faintly at the memories of his two previous meetings with Linthvar. The Jilectan would limp to the end of his days because of Alan.
Davis stirred uncomfortably and cleared his throat. "Mr. Westover --" His voice was barely a whisper.
Alan didn't turn. "Yes?"
Davis cleared his throat again. "What're you gonna do with me?"
The question had, of course, been uppermost in his mind for the past five hours. Alan shrugged. "We aren't going to hurt you as long as you behave yourself."
The man's thoughts radiated to Alan. Davis wanted to believe him, but he was still afraid. Alan turned.
"It's the truth. Undergrounders don't kill prisoners for no reason. We're a humane lot -- probably more than we should be, considering what the Patrol does to the prisoners it takes."
"I've never caught an Undergrounder," Davis said nervously, "and I hope I never do."
Alan looked at him steadily and saw Davis squirm under his scrutiny.
"It's true!" His voice squeaked a little.
"But you assisted with the capture of Georgia Stanwyth, two years ago."
"It was my lieutenant that caught her," Davis said. He gulped. "Are you gonna hold that against me?"
Alan sighed. "Of course not. Understand, Mr. Davis, the Underground spares cooperative prisoners. The ones that cause trouble -- we do whatever we have to do to deal with them. Better let your friends know that, too."
"I will." The man slumped back against the cave wall and his voice became plaintive. "You know, Mr. Westover, you Undergrounders are the damnedest bunch when it comes to causing trouble. You get the Jils so steamed up, it's no wonder they execute you if they can get their hands on you. If you'd just lay off a little --"
"Does the future of humanity worry you at all, Jim?" Alan asked.
Davis shrugged. "I never really thought about it."
"Most people don't. But you have a sister and two brothers, all younger than you."
Davis's mouth was tight. "So what?"
"Your sister has children, and is expecting another."
Davis had gone white. "You really *can* see it all, can't you!"
"Pretty much." Alan regarded him soberly. "Have you ever thought about what's going to happen to those kids if some day they take up the space the Jils need?"
Davis shrugged. "It's a big galaxy."
"But the number of habitable planets is fairly limited, and Jils breed like flies. Eventually, they'll run out of space. They're already feeling the pinch and they're beginning to look at Terra and Bellian and Landersteel, and our other colonies. They've even wiped out some of our smaller colonies on one thin excuse or another."
"But they wouldn't do that to Terra! They couldn't!"
"Not yet, but they're getting bigger and more powerful all the time. If we don't keep up, someday they're going to be too big to resist. They don't worry about the number of Terrans they kill to get what they want."
Davis looked away. "I think you're worryin' too much."
"That's what you want to think, anyway," Alan said.
The patrolman's lips tightened. "It's pretty easy for you to read me, isn't it?"
Alan shrugged. "Jils do it every day," he said. "Why do you care?"
Davis didn't reply, and the silence stretched out between them. Outside, the light was beginning to fade.
"Do you really think the Jils'd take over Terra?" the patrolman asked suddenly.
"They'd have done it already if they weren't afraid of getting into a war."
"A war." The man smiled a little scornfully. "They ain't afraid of a war with us. They could lick us easily, if they wanted to."
"Maybe," Alan said. "But Terra would fight. War is a messy business, and war can ruin the very planets they want. Terra is a nice world -- just the kind they need for their colonies. Do you think they want to risk that, when they can get it another way?"
Davis was silent, and Alan turned away again. Kasal's sun had sunk below the horizon while he and Davis had talked. It was time to go.
"Mark," he said.
Linley was instantly awake. "Time to mush?"
"Time to mush."
Lyn was also sitting up, trying in vain to smooth down her hair. Alan noticed, with amusement, that her hair, like his own, stood up wildly on her head. She caught his glance, looked annoyed for a moment, then laughed.
"It's always done this," she said. "Dad's hair's the same color but it isn't curly like this. Mom's was red, he tells me, and it was the same way -- always sticking up every which way in the morning. She'd try everything and anything to make it lie down, but it never would."
Alan rubbed his own unruly locks. "I used to try and straighten mine out with vaseline. My mom and dad wouldn't let me get it straightened. Mom said it would kill my hair roots and I'd go bald."
Lyn giggled.
Mark was pulling on the Patrol uniform and swearing under his breath. "This damn thing's too small. Probably look better on you," he added to Alan. He wiggled into the breeches, still cursing. "What size do you wear anyway, Jim?"
The patrolman made a face. "I'm on the low edge of the requirement, sir. Sorry."
"Yeah, I'll betcha are." Mark jammed his feet into the boots, wincing. "Sure hope I don't hafta run too far."
Alan crawled from concealment. "We'd better hurry."
"Yeah." Linley followed him out. He cussed imaginatively. "Don't it ever do anything but rain here?"
Lyn had crawled out behind them. Mark shook his head. "Uh uh, baby. You stay here and guard our friend."
"But, I --"
"Stay here."
"But Mark, you might need me!"
Linley smiled a little. "Thanks, baby, but I got Alan, an' he's gonna be conspicuous enough."
"But --"
"No."
Alan found himself staring at Lyn, a wild, improbable idea surfacing in his brain.
"Lyn," he said quietly, "is there something you'd like to tell us?"
"I --" She hesitated, then shook her head. "No."
Mark glanced at Alan and then back at Lyn. "Is somethin' wrong?"
"I don't think so." Alan continued to watch Lyn. "Lyn, are you sure?"
Again, she hesitated, not looking at him. "I -- I don't know. Alan, what psychic powers do I have? Can you tell?"
"You're an empath and a telepath. I picked that up when I read your mind back on Xenis."
"Anything else?"
"I don't know." Alan shook his head. "It's pretty hard to detect that sort of thing with a mind probe. You have to be tested. You put out a terrific aura, that's for sure, and the powers you have are sure to be good ones. Why?"
She shrugged. "I'll tell you later, maybe. Mark's right. I can't go on the base with you. I'd show up like a fly on a plate."
"We hafta go," Mark said, impatiently.
"Yes, I know." Alan hesitated, and then spoke to Lyn again. "Stay here. We'll be as quick as we can."
**********
tbc
