Wonderland Revisited: 3/?
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
III
Alan paused outside the cabin to orient himself.
"Hi, sweetheart!"
Alan nearly jumped out of his skin. "Mark! Man, am I ever glad to see you!"
"Why? Run into trouble?"
"My roommate. She might suspect something."
"Why?"
"Well, she's a pretty sharp girl -- and she's got posters of both of us up in the room."
"No kiddin'?" Linley grinned. "One of our admirers, huh?"
"I guess you could say that." Alan laughed a little sheepishly. "She's the one I was walking with the day the Patrol came after me. I didn't remember, to tell you the truth -- but you wouldn't *believe* the things girls talk about behind the backs of us guys."
"Really?" Mark said. "What kind of things?"
"Never mind."
"Oh, that sorta thing, huh? Did you try a mind probe?"
"I couldn't. She's resistant."
Linley's eyes widened. "She's been conditioned?"
"No. The shielding's natural, but it's really good. When I tried to go through it, she felt something. I had to stop."
Linley frowned. "That ain't too good."
"I know, but there's no help for it. Where's Kevin?"
"Gone to report to the Captain. I already have. How about you?"
"Not yet. I was just on my way up." Alan glanced down at himself. "Do I look convincing?"
Linley grinned devilishly. "You look positively gorgeous, baby."
"Mark!"
"Sorry. Look, as soon as you get done, we'll meet on the sixth deck an' work our way up. Okay?"
"Sure." Alan turned away and yipped. "Hey!"
"Sorry about that. I couldn't resist. You got such a cute li'l fanny."
"Will you cut it out, Mark?"
"It ain't Mark, Alice, honey. Damien, remember?"
Alan glowered at him. With his hair and eyes a dark, glowing brown, Linley's appearance had altered drastically. Emma had also supplied the brothers with neat, dark mustaches fastened to their upper lips. "You don't look like any Damien, that's for sure. You know what it means, don't you?"
"Nope. What's it mean?"
Alan grinned. "Look it up. I'm going to report to the Captain. See you soon, Lieutenant."
"You didn't answer my question, Ensign. Hey, it's nice to outrank you again, for a while."
Alan made a face at him and hurried down the corridor toward the lift.
**********
Captain Chang was a small, wiry man in his middle years, his dark eyes showing traces of his Eastern ancestry. Alan presented his orders and the officer took them casually. "Ensign Woodruff?"
"Yes, sir."
"Glad to have you aboard, Ensign. Lieutenant Gables will orient you to your duties in the engine room."
"Thank you, sir."
"That will be all." The Captain turned away and Alan let out his breath.
He left the control room and returned to the lift. Kevin had probably passed him on his way down to the sixth deck, he thought. He paused before the doors, waiting for the car. After a moment, it arrived and the door slid open. A young man emerged. Alan suppressed a start.
It was the corpsman, Llwelling, whom Alan had held up aboard this same ship a year and a half before.
Llwelling passed him without a glance. Alan entered the car and turned. "Sixth," he said in his most feminine voice. The door started to slide shut and, as they did so, Alan had a bare glimpse of the corpsman spinning about on his heel. For a fleeting instant their eyes locked and the other man's widened in astonishment. Then the doors were closed and he was moving downward.
Alan's heart was beating hard and fast in his throat. Had Llwelling recognized him? If he had, what would he do?
The lift moved quickly downward and he drew a shaky breath. The chances were good that Llwelling would shrug it off as imagination. No one would dream of Alan Westover being so foolish as to return to the "Patton", least of all dressed as a woman. He was just on edge because that was exactly what he had done.
While he was obsessing over the dangerous possibilities, the lift stopped on the fourth deck, where Sick Bay was located, and the doctor boarded. Alan's heart leaped again, but the man merely nodded to him and pressed the manual indicator for the fifth deck. They moved downward again, and stopped. The doctor disembarked and Alan proceeded downward once more.
Linley and Bronson were waiting for him on the sixth deck. They were standing across the corridor from the lift, apparently engaged in earnest conversation. Alan went by them, passing two crewmen in the corridor. After a moment, the brothers joined him, one on either side.
"What happened?" Mark inquired. "We got a link a couple o' minutes ago, just for a second."
"I met Llwelling as I was boarding the lift. He was just getting off."
"Who?" Bronson asked.
"Jason Llwelling, the ship's corpsman. The one whose place I took, the last time."
"Great," Mark said. "Did he recognize you?"
Alan shrugged. "I don't know. He turned around to look at me -- sort of a double take -- but the doors closed pretty quick. I don't think he got much of a look."
"Let's just hope he' thinks he was seein' things," Mark said. "Let's get movin'. The faster we get this done, the better."
A crewman passed in the corridor, his gaze passing appreciatively over Alan. Alan looked away, annoyed at Mark's grin. "Let's try the lifeboat hangars first."
They paused in the corridor, just outside the hangars, and Alan leaned against a bulkhead, closed his eyes and concentrated. He saw the lifeboats clearly for a moment. Carefully, he reached outward, groping, exploring. Darkness and emptiness. Nothing. He tried to envision the little disk that contained the precious information and moved his probe over the hangar interiors.
He couldn't seem to focus. The interior of the hangar that he was examining blurred suddenly in his mind's eye and bright lights flashed blindingly inside his brain. He came back to reality, suddenly aware that he was clutching Mark and Kevin tightly by the wrists and that his face and neck were dripping with sweat. He shook his head sharply.
"What's the matter?" Mark asked.
"Nothing." Alan wiped away the sweat that was running into his eyes. "It isn't here. Let's go on."
They retraced their steps. Alan kept a hand on Linley's arm, more for balance than for any other reason. He felt strangely dizzy and he wiped away more sweat in his eyes with his forearm. Mark was watching him with obvious concern. "Kid, you're pale as a ghost. You sure you're all right?"
"Yeah," he lied. "Let's try Engineering."
They paused outside their goal and again Alan concentrated. Nothing, except again that faint, unpleasant vertigo. He shook his head. "Nothing here. Let's go."
They went on, walking slowly to allow Alan the time to probe every possible hiding place in the area, Alan drawing power from both his partners to keep his probes extended and sensitive. They reached the end of the passageway and Alan stopped, the dizziness intensifying.
"You don't look so good," Mark said. "What's the matter?"
"I'm a little wiped out. That's a lot of work."
Mark was frowning. "The power flow is wrong," he said.
"Yeah," Alan said. "I noticed it a little bit, too. I don't know what's the matter with it, though."
"It ain't even," Mark said.
Alan frowned. "Not even? What do you mean?"
"I kept tryin' t'put my finger on it, an' I finally figured it out. The power flow's uneven. You ain't pullin' power steady."
"Maybe you should ease up a bit," Bronson suggested. "Take a little break."
"I'll be okay," Alan said. "Just let me rest a minute."
"Here's a cleanin' closet," Mark said. He pushed the control. "Come in here. You can sit down."
Alan did and his partners followed him through. He seated himself on the deck. "I'm all right, Mark. Really."
Linley shook his head. "No, you ain't. Lie down an' take it easy a few minutes."
It was a relief to obey. He lay back, feeling the dizziness fade. Mark and Kevin knelt beside him. Mark bent forward to loosen the top of Alan's uniform and then jerked guiltily back as the door slid open. He and Kevin swiveled quickly around and Alan pushed himself up on his elbows, pulling the top of his uniform together.
"Oops!" It was a tall, slim man, dressed in pale coveralls and a pair of dirty, white shoes. "Sorry!" His face broke into a grin and he retreated, touching his cap as he did so. Alan heard him laugh as the door slid shut.
"Darn!" Alan sealed his uniform quickly and Mark laughed.
"Man, whatta reputation you're gonna have on this ship," Kevin remarked. "Two at once!"
"Will you shut up?" Alan was getting to his feet, his face burning. "Can you imagine what he's thinking?"
"Don't have to," Kevin said. "I'm kinda surprised he didn't ask if he could join us."
Mark chuckled, but put an arm around Alan's shoulders. "Don't worry about it. You feel up to goin' on now?"
Alan nodded. "I feel like an utter fool."
Bronson slapped him lightly on the back. "So do I, sorta. Let's go on up to the mess hall and getcha somethin' to eat. Maybe it'll help."
Alan hesitated a moment and then nodded. They returned to the lift and ascended to the third level. Besides the brig, the mess hall was located on the third level, albeit on the opposite side of the ship, a point that Kevin had noted with irony. They paused outside and Mark nudged his brother. "Go pick up some sandwiches for us. I don't want li'l Alice gettin' faint in there. We don't need a trip to the infirmary."
"That's for sure." Kevin went on into the room, leaving his brother and Alan standing in the corridor.
"Whatcha think?" Linley asked. "Are we gonna find it?"
"Sure," Alan said, with more confidence than he felt. "It'll just take a while." He rubbed his scalp. "Sure wish I felt better, though."
"What do you think it is?" Mark asked. He felt Alan's forehead. "You ain't runnin' a temperature."
"I don't know. A flu bug, probably, but it sure is distracting. Here comes Kevin."
Bronson stepped through the doors and presented him with a sandwich. "Here you go, baby. Roast beef okay?"
Alan wasn't listening. Bronson's return had sent a wave of psychic energy through him and suddenly he felt a pull, as if a magnet were drawing him toward the lower decks.
"Kid?"
Alan took the sandwich absently. "I see it," he whispered. "It's below us. The lower decks. I think it's on Fourth."
The brothers took his elbows, half-leading him down the corridor toward the lift. Alan hardly noticed. He let the two other men guide him, gripping the sandwich absently in one hand. The stepped into the lift and dropped toward the fourth deck.
They stepped out and Alan instinctively turned toward the port side. "We're close," he whispered. "This way."
They reached a branch in the corridor, and he paused. Spacers were passing them and Mark and Kevin drew him aside.
"Watch it," Mark said quietly. "You're squashin' the sandwich." He removed it from Alan's grasp. "Which way?"
Alan leaned back against the bulkhead and closed his eyes. It was near; he could see it clearly. Dark on dark, surrounded by tightly enclosing walls. Alan relaxed, trying to focus on it without success. No light showed anywhere: a dark, secluded space. A face looked at him out of a tangle of leaves -- a small, impish face that he somehow knew. Alan strove to remember, but it eluded him. Another face materialized behind the first, the face of a lovely woman with blond, floating hair and blowing white draperies.
"Is the young lady ill?"
The words brought Alan back to reality with a start. He opened his eyes to see the ship's doctor standing before him, his features mirroring concern.
"Are you all right, Ensign?"
Alan nodded. "Yes, sir. I skipped lunch and started feeling dizzy. I'll be fine."
"Come to Sick Bay," the doctor said. "I'll --"
Alan shook his head. "No, thank you, sir. I'm going up to the mess hall right now. I'm okay."
The doctor looked dubious. "You're very pale. You'd better let me check you over."
"Really, sir, I'm fine." Alan straightened up quickly. He mustn't let himself be taken to the infirmary! Llwelling might be there, and if the doctor decided to do a physical exam on him, his false gender would instantly be discovered. "If the Lieutenants would be so kind as to take me to the mess hall --"
"Sure," Kevin said hurriedly. "Glad to." He and Mark seized Alan by the arms and hustled him back toward the lift. Glancing back, Alan saw the doctor head back into Sick Bay.
Llwelling emerged.
"Oh gosh!"
Linley glanced back and Alan heard his sharp intake of breath. The two brothers speeded up. There was the ring of boots racing up behind them. "Wait! Hold on!"
Mark and Kevin moved at the same instant. Releasing Alan, Kevin spun and grasped the young man by the arm. Mark pressed the opening switch of the utility closet half a meter down the corridor and Bronson shoved the younger man through. Alan followed and the door slid shut on his heels.
Kevin's blaster hummed and Llwelling collapsed.
"Oh, damn!" Mark yanked a folded canvas bag from a shelf and thrust it under Llwelling's head. "Poor kid's gonna wake up with a horrendous headache. I got the best tactics for payin' back somebody that's done me a favor -- whatcha doin', kid?"
Alan was frowning as he knelt beside the corpsman, one hand on the boy's temple. There was a long silence and then he turned a stricken face to his two partners. "He's a psychic!"
**********
tbc
