Wonderland Revisited: 4/?
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
There was a stunned silence. Mark sighed. "Damn and double damn! That really fixes things. We can't tie him up and leave him somewhere, 'cause he'll be mind-probed by the Jils when he's found and they'll find out." He paused, chewing his lip. "What the blazes are we gonna do? Damn, but I don't want him gettin' in trouble on account o' me again."
Bronson sighed. "He'll be wakin' up in a few minutes. We better be sure what we're doin'."
"I think it'll be all right," Alan said. "If he knows he's a psychic, he's not going to want to draw attention to himself. We're just going to have to explain it to him; that's all. Is there any way to lock that door? We don't want to be interrupted."
Kevin got to his feet and went to examine the door. "Yeah. There's a manual. Why the hell would they want to lock a utility closet from the inside?"
"Part of the battle protocol, I think," Alan said. "Lock it."
Bronson obeyed and returned to kneel beside the corpsman.
Silence descended for several minutes. Alan bit his lip, hoping against hope that Llwelling would be reasonable. The seconds ticked by, each one seeming longer than the previous one. The silence lengthened.
Llwelling groaned. Alan almost jumped and he looked quickly at his companions. Both of them were watching him.
The corpsman groaned again and opened his eyes. He stared blearily up at Alan.
"Hi," Alan said tentatively. "How's the head?"
"Awful!" Llwelling closed his eyes again, rocking his head from side to side. "Owww!"
"Sorry, kid," Bronson said.
The corpsman blinked up at him. "Mark Linley?"
"I'm Linley, kid," Mark said. "That's my brother, Kevin Bronson."
"Oh." Llwelling squeezed his eyes shut. "I remember you from the video a few months ago. You look a lot alike. I thought I was seeing double. Are you twins?"
"Half brothers," Mark said.
Llwelling rubbed his face and made an attempt to sit up. Mark helped him. "Easy, there."
Llwelling covered his eyes with his hands. "Did you have to stun me?"
"Sorry, kid," Bronson said. "I couldn't take chances."
"It'll get better in a few minutes," Alan said.
Llwelling blinked at him. "I was trying to help you. I thought I recognized you earlier on the lift -- then I saw you heading down the way with these two guys holding onto you -- I thought you might be in trouble. I didn't realize they could be Mark Linley and his brother. They were walking like a couple of 'trols."
Alan grinned "You're not the only one that's made that mistake. Headache getting better?"
Llwelling nodded and winced. "I feel sort of sick --" His face had acquired a greenish tinge. He started to gag suddenly and Mark grabbed a plastic container off a shelf. "Here."
Llwelling took it. The three Undergrounders waited as he lost the contents of his stomach. Mark put an arm around his shoulders. "I'm really sorry, kid," he said.
"It's okay," Llwelling choked out. "You didn't know."
"Yeah," Mark said. "You helped me out the last time, an' I didn't have a chance to thank you. I appreciated what you did."
Llwelling lowered the container and Mark grabbed up several paper wipes that were stacked on one of the shelves. "Here."
Llwelling wiped his face. "I was glad to help."
"Look, you can call me Mark. All my friends do. I guess we can letcha go. You ain't gonna spill the beans on us."
"Of course not." Llwelling got slowly to his feet. Mark and Kevin helped him. "But I wanted to talk to Mr. Westover."
"That's Alan," Alan said.
"Alan, then." Llwelling hesitated. "I'm a psychic."
Alan nodded. "I know."
The corpsman's eyes widened. "You sensed it?"
"Just now. So will the Jilectans, if you ever run into one."
"Yeah." Llwelling grimaced. "Yeah. I've been worrying about it a lot. Listen, do you think it's be okay if I go with you when you've found -- whatever it is you're looking for?"
Bronson frowned. "How'd you know we were lookin' for somethin'?"
"Huh?" Llwelling's eyes widened slightly at Bronson's expression. "I don't know. I just thought --" He swallowed. "Well, what are you doing here if you aren't looking for something? Just along for the ride?"
"Lay off, Kev," Linley said. "He's a psychic."
"Never mind what we're doing here," Alan said. "Listen, Mr. Llwelling --"
"Jason," the corpsman said. "You can call me Jase."
"All right," Alan said. "There's probably going to be a Jilectan or two coming aboard when we reach the Capella system. Try to steer clear of them. If they spot you, we won't be able to help you."
Llwelling nodded. "I know. I've come awfully close a couple of times. Can I join the Underground?"
Mark slapped him on the back, catching him by surprise and nearly knocking him down. "Sure you can. Just stay outta trouble 'til we finish our assignment an' we'll take you home with us."
Llwelling apparently had been holding his breath, for he blew it out explosively. "Thanks a bunch!"
"Actually," Alan said mildly, "I was going to ask if you wanted to come along. We don't like to lose psychics to the Jils."
Llwelling grinned slightly. "Well, thanks anyway."
"No sweat, kid," Mark said. "Now remember what Alan said. There'll be Jils comin' aboard an' they'll be wanderin' all over the ship, most likely. Steer clear of 'em."
"What are they after?" Llwelling asked.
"Same thing we're after," Mark said. "An' we ain't gonna tellya what 'til it's all over." He glanced at Alan. "Well?"
"He's okay," Alan said.
Llwelling blinked at him for an instant and then his cheeks turned red. "You read my mind?"
"Everyone who wants to join the Underground gets it done once," Mark said. "We can't afford spies."
Llwelling hesitated, obviously considering that, and then he nodded. "I guess not."
"How come they didn't spot you after Mark escaped?" Alan asked suddenly. "Didn't they mind probe everyone that was involved in the business?"
"Huh? Didn't you see that just now?"
Alan grinned and shook his head. "I wasn't looking for it. All I was looking for was your reason for wanting to join the Underground. I don't go prying indiscriminately, you know."
"Oh," Llwelling said. "Well, they probed all the officers but they didn't bother with the crew -- especially when it became obvious that you and Lieutenant McDougal were careful to take everyone at blasterpoint. A few of the officers got slapped around a bit for it. Dr. Mattos was pleased as punch that you got away and the Jils saw it, of course. Made 'em mad, and the Patrol wasn't too happy, either, especially since you killed their Strike Commander."
"I'm sorry," Alan said sincerely. "I didn't want any of the crew to get hurt."
Llwelling shrugged. "Just about everyone on the ship was pulling for you." He looked at Mark. "For both of you, actually. They all figured Alan was aboard, and when Mark disappeared and the 'trols were killed, they were sure of it. There's a few simpletons everywhere that believe the propaganda, but most of us -- 'specially the guys in the Corps -- know better. Besides, they didn't hurt anyone badly -- just a few bruises, more or less. Nobody argues with a blaster -- not even a Jil." Llwelling rubbed his head. "But there was this one 'trol --" He paused reflectively. "A real trenchcrawler. Big hairy guy named Murphy. He was the same one that hit me when I slipped Mark the pain shot. Brother, was *he* ever sore! He remembered me, too, and came after me. I thought I'd had it, but I managed to get away from him. Then he went around beating up on everybody else until Lieutenant Osborne stopped him."
"Sounds like him," Mark said. "I guess we all have fond memories of Mr. Murphy. Maybe the day'll come when we meet him again. Who knows?" He grinned at Alan. "I owe him a few lumps after that interrogation session. Now --" He undid the manual lock as he spoke and added to Llwelling, "You'd better get goin'. Lay low an' wait. Have anythin' you really want to take with you in your pockets an' be ready to go when we reach Osterlak. We'll contact you. Okay?"
Llwelling nodded and then grinned. "Yessir! I hope you find whatever you're looking for." He glanced at Alan and winked. "You're awfully cute, Mr. Westover. I love your hairdo." He went out, leaving Alan flushed and speechless.
Kevin laughed. "Nice kid. He's right, too. You look real cute, li'l buddy."
"Shut up," Alan said dismally.
"Let's get goin'," Mark said, visibly suppressing a grin at Alan's discomfort. "Didja see the thing?"
Alan nodded. "It's in the dark somewhere. A small, enclosed space. I'm feeling a lot better now. I should be able to find it if you guys help me."
"That's what we're here for," Bronson said.
Alan glanced at the door. "Crewman passing. Hold on." They waited a few more moments and then Alan nodded. "All clear. Let's move."
**********
"So, you got any idea what part of Fourth it's on?" Mark asked.
Alan concentrated, trying to focus his power. A trace of the light-headedness remained, and he tried to push it aside. "It's close," he said. "Somewhere on this deck."
"I hope it ain't in Sick Bay," Kevin remarked. "The last thing we need is the doc decidin' to examine you."
Alan shook his head. "No, it's farther than that." He led the way past the door to Sick Bay, aware now of Llwelling's psychic mind not far away. The corpsman was a good one, he found himself thinking. It was just as well that they'd found him now, before a Jil spotted him.
A corridor branched away from the main one, and Alan felt a tug in that direction. He turned down it, and Mark and Kevin followed without a word.
The way led toward the recreation area. A small lounge opened off the game room but was, at the moment, deserted. Two crewmen emerged as they entered the lounge and stepped back, allowing the officers to pass. They left the lounge and the doors slid shut behind them, leaving Alan, Mark and Kevin alone. Alan closed his eyes, trying to envision the disk.
Nothing. Mark's arm closed on his arm.
"You dizzy again?"
"A little. Just a minute --"
And then it materialized before his eyes, sharp and clear. It was a small, flat disk, located in a dark, close space. To the right -- or was it?
Alan turned slowly toward the right. The game room was there and, a little beyond it, the library.
"That way," he whispered. He took a step and staggered suddenly. The images of the corridor seemed to dissolve into wavy, unfocused blurs. Bronson grabbed his arm. "What's wrong?"
"Dizzy...I don't feel very well. Mark --"
Linley's arm braced him. "You'd better lie down."
Alan took another step and his knees gave. Mark caught him. He looked up into his partner's face seeing nothing but a swimming blur. "I think I'm going to pass out," he mumbled. "Got to sit down --" He tried to bring up his hands to grip Linley's arms but the hands wouldn't move. Consciousness faded out.
**********
"Here, kid, drink this."
Alan blinked. He was lying on a couch in the lounge and Mark and Kevin were leaning over him. Mark was holding a cup of water to his lips. He shook his head, and nausea washed over him. Pain throbbed behind his eyes. He closed them, pressing both hands to his eyelids and moaned. "Oh, my head --"
"Easy, kid." Mark sounded scared. "I'm gonna take you up to our quarters -- Kev's an' mine. You lie still."
Alan lowered his hands and opened his eyes. Mark's face was blurry and Kevin's was no more than a shifting haze behind him. "I need to keep looking."
"Not now," Mark said firmly. "You're gonna rest. Kev, you keep lookin'. I'm takin' Alan up to our quarters."
"You'll never find it alone," Alan protested.
Mark ignored him. "Can you stand?" He helped Alan to sit up.
"I think so." Alan gripped Linley's arm. "But, Mark, you won't be able to --"
"We'll keep checkin' this deck," Mark said. "All the dark, enclosed spaces there are. Can't be that many. It makes sense it'd be here, anyway. It's the deck with all the recreation equipment -- everybody shows up here sooner or later and Rannir didn't have much time. Relax; we'll find it. Now lean on me." He boosted Alan to his feet. "Take it slow."
"All right." Alan gave in, fighting back dizziness. He took one step and then another, and black dots leaped out of the air before his eyes. His head began to spin. Dimly, he was aware of powerful arms lifting him once again before he passed out.
IV
Mark caught his partner as he slumped forward. Panic clutched at him and he fought it back. What was the matter with Alan?
Kevin's gaze met his as he swung Alan into his arms. "Whatcha suppose is wrong with him?"
"Wish I knew. I'm gonna take him up now. Go stand in front o' the lift an' call me when the coast is clear."
"Right." Bronson strode quickly from the lounge and paused in front of the lift. The sensors detected him and instants later the doors opened. A single crewman emerged and Mark waited, waiting for the corridor to be empty. Much of the crew was on duty, and the ones who weren't were probably either in their quarters, sleeping or engaged in various recreational pursuits.
Kevin beckoned, holding the lift door with one hand. Mark made a dash for the lift and ducked into the car. Bronson stepped back. The door slid shut and Mark punched the manual indicator for the officers' deck. Hopefully he could avoid the deck watch when he arrived on Second. The last thing he needed was for anyone to spot him carrying his partner. They'd have Alan in Sick Bay in no time, and their masquerade would be discovered.
Alan groaned again and his eyes opened. "Oh, my head. It hurts. We're getting farther away from the disk --"
"Forget the damned disk," Mark said. "Take it easy." He fought down another wave of panic. His partner looked terrible. His face was white as a sheet and beaded with sweat.
"Where are we?" Alan asked.
"In the lift. I'm takin' you to my quarters but maybe I should take you back to Sick Bay an' let the doc take a look atcha. I can stun 'im and tie 'im up some place afterwards."
"I'll be okay," Alan murmured.
The lift came to a stop on the second deck and Mark stuck his head out of the lift to check before he stepped from the car and made a quick dash for his quarters. He exhaled explosively as the door slid shut behind him.
Alan opened his eyes as Mark placed him on the nearest bunk. "Where are we?"
"My quarters. Are you sure you don't want me t'get hold o' the doc?"
Alan shook his head. "You'd better go help Kevin."
"In a while. I ain't leavin' yet." He loosened Alan's tunic and pulled off his boots. Alan turned on his side.
"I think I'll sleep for a while," he said. "My head hurts. Don't worry, Mark -- it's okay --"
"I'm stayin' here 'til you're asleep," Mark said obstinately. "You got me good an' scared."
"It's starting to feel better," Alan said. "It's going to be all right."
Mark hoped he was right. He sank down on one of the cabin's chairs and waited. Slowly, his partner's breathing deepened.
Linley sighed, trying to decide what to do. They had to find that blasted computer disk, preferably before they came out in the Capellan system and were boarded by the Patrol. A dark, enclosed space, Alan had said. Somewhere on the fourth deck. At least Alan had narrowed it down somewhat. He and Kevin might be able to find it without Alan's help if they kept looking. Alan was obviously not in the running for a while. He wished fervently that all of this was over. He wanted to get Alan back to Lavirra and Matt Philips as fast as he could. There was unquestionably something wrong, and it wasn't any flu bug. Again, Mark toyed seriously with the idea of getting Dr. Mattos to look at him. It would be inconvenient but if Alan were really in danger...
He checked his partner again. Alan was soundly asleep, his dark eyelashes, darker still because of the mascara, tightly shut. He breathing had become barely audible as it always did when he was very tired.
Mark sighed and lifted one of Alan's wrists. His pulse was fast but regular and strong and his features had smoothed out in sleep. Linley stood up and went to the door, thinking hard. There was one other alternative. Jason Llwelling wasn't a doctor but he did have a certain amount of medical training, and he was a psychic besides. He should at least be able to tell if Alan were in any immediate danger.
He glanced at his wrist chronometer. Two hours before he and "Vernon" must go on duty. Linley was assigned to Engineering and Kevin to Communications in the control room. It would be convenient if they could find the disk before than.
He reached the lift and as he paused before it the doors slid open, revealing Jason Llwelling. The corpsman emerged and stopped short at the sight of Mark. Two crewmen squeezed past them and entered the lift.
"Hi, sir," Llwelling said. "Is Alan okay?"
Linley felt his brows go up. "How did you know?"
"Well --" Llwelling hesitated. "He wasn't feeling very well when I left, and I started thinking about it while I was working in Sick Bay. Then I noticed Mr. Bronson going into the Lounge without you and Alan, and I got worried, so I decided to come up here and see if you'd gone back to your quarters --"
"And you're a psychic," Linley said. "I shoulda known. He passed out, an' he's in my quarters. He ain't been feelin' good since yesterday. We thought it might be a flu bug or somethin', but I don't think that's what it is, anymore. He's been complainin' about a headache, an' he don't look too good. D'ya think you could take a look at him for me? I gotta get busy if we're gonna have a chance o' finishin' our job before we get to the Capella system."
Llwelling nodded. "Okay. I'll do my best."
"Thanks," Linley said.
**********
Mark rejoined Bronson on the fourth deck. His brother was in the gym, checking out the wrestling mats. Mark came up beside him and Bronson glanced up. "How's Alan?"
"Asleep," Mark said. "Llwellin' went to check him over. We gotta get huntin'. It ain't that long before we gotta go on duty."
"Yeah, I know."
They began to search, going from room to room, checking all the dark enclosed spaces. Linley sighed. "Damn! It could be anywhere! There's thousands o' places!"
"Yeah." Bronson shrugged. "Library next."
"Right."
They went into the library, which was occupied by half a dozen spacers, and approached the first shelf of computer books.
"I guess he coulda stuck it under the case cover," Bronson muttered. "Holy hell, if he did, it's there for good. We'll never find it!"
They searched, removing book after book, checking the case cover, examining the individual frames on the shelves, themselves. The minutes ticked by and became hours. At last Mark paused, staring disgustedly at the many shelves, each holding hundreds of the thin books still remaining. "This is ridiculous," he whispered. "I don't think it's in the library at all. He probably stuck it in the rec room somewhere."
"Or the gym," Kevin said dismally. "There's thousands o' places to hide stuff in there."
"Could be in the lounge, too. Dammitall! We'll be lookin' for weeks at this rate."
"We gotta be on duty in twenty minutes," Kevin pointed out.
"Let's keep huntin'." Linley opened another case, checked out the interior, looked under the thin plastic sheet that gave a short blurb on the contents of the tome and a brief biography of the author, closed the case and replaced it on the shelf.
A woman, somewhere above middle age, was suddenly beside him, smiling kindly up at him.
"I've been watching you for the last thirty minutes, sir. Are you searching for something in particular?"
"Uh --" Mark swallowed, looking into her bright, interested eyes. "No, not really. Just tryin' t'find somethin' t'help me fall asleep at night --"
"Good-looking boy like you shouldn't have any trouble in that department." The lady smiled again, her eyes twinkling. Mark felt his face burning.
"Here's a very good book," the lady continued. She withdrew a case from one rack. "'Lofty Ideals' by John P. Rochenbach. Excellent story, sir."
Mark took the book. "Uh -- thanks. I'll certainly read it." He saw Kevin grin and vanish down the next aisle.
The lady was withdrawing another book from the shelf. "Perhaps you prefer a mystery. This is an excellent story -- 'The Scarlet Lampshade' by Lorna Crentage -- a real spellbinder."
*Oh man!* Mark thought. *How am I going to get away from this sweet, friendly lady?* An idea occurred to him. "Uh, thanks, ma'am, but actually I prefer somethin' a little more on the...uh, shall we say, raw an' wild side --" He winked at her, expecting a hasty retreat.
The lady never batted an eye. "Of course, sir. Those are quite popular on this ship. Over here on this shelf we have whatever you could desire --" she paused, her gaze passing over Mark's big frame reflectively. "Even though it doesn't seem to me that a young man like you should have to *read* about such things. Actual experience is so much more interesting." She smiled. Linley heard his brother stifle a laugh.
"'Sins of Lara Olkinhart' is an excellent one," the lady was continuing. "Sure to arouse the blood, and whatever else." Her smile widened, displaying a row of dazzling white teeth. "Here's another. 'Hot and Sweet.' I've read that one, myself --"
Bronson appeared beside him, his face unnaturally pink, and Mark could tell he was struggling not to laugh. "Damien? It's almost time to go on duty. Wanna walk over with me?"
"Sure," Mark said, with relief. "Thanks, ma'am."
"But don't you want to check out the books?"
"I don't have time right now," Mark said. "Hold 'em for me, would you, please? I'll be back."
She winked at him. "Of course, sir. I'll be watching for you."
Mark went out with his brother. As soon as they were out of earshot, Bronson burst out laughing. "Man! Whatta swingin' li'l old lady! I think she liked you, big brother!"
Linley glowered at his younger brother. "Very funny, junior. I've heard your reputation at the base. Look, I'm goin' up t'see how Alan's doin' before I go on duty."
"Me too," Bronson said. "We'll hafta hurry, though."
Alan was still deeply asleep when they entered. A faint flush had crept into his cheeks and he was curled up on one side, the wig askew. Mark looked at him with relief. "He looks a lot better."
"Yeah," Bronson said. "I was kinda worried. He's a nice kid."
"You noticed that, huh? Guess he'll be okay." Linley glanced in the mirror, checking his disguise. "Looks like everythin's under control. Let's get goin'."
**********
Jason Llwelling opened the door to the quarters of Vernon and Damien Ashley, and went in, letting it slide closed behind him. Alan Westover, still dressed enticingly as a girl, lay on one of the bunks, deeply asleep. Llwelling went to stand by the bunk, looking down at the Sector's most wanted man. Alan's clothing had been loosened, and his face looked drawn and pale in the room's lighting. It was hard to believe that this youth was the famous Alan Westover, accused of killing two Jilectans, the idol of millions of teenagers throughout the Terran Confederation, with a reward on his head that would make the being who captured him fabulously wealthy -- assuming, of course, that his big partner didn't kill the individual first in retribution for the deed. After seeing Mark Linley in person, Jason could very much believe that Linley would be more than capable of making such a fool very much regret his stupidity, before he died.
Jason smiled a little. It was still hard for him to believe that he, Jason Llwelling, was anything like Alan, and yet he, too, was a psychic. Somehow, he couldn't envision himself in the role Alan had chosen, and yet, perhaps Alan hadn't chosen it, either, but had had it thrust upon him. In any case, he had unwittingly become a hero, and Jason had to admire him for it.
Llwelling sat down on the edge of the bed and took a small sensor from his pocket, holding it over Alan's form and moving it back and forth in slow, sweeping motions. He frowned thoughtfully.
Llwelling was no doctor but he was medically trained and he knew that the brain pattern showing on the monitor was not normal. The discrepancy was slight but definite -- almost like the pattern seen when a subject had been without sleep for an extended period. And yet Alan was asleep now-- deeply asleep. The pattern should be the soft waves shown from the brain of a sleeping man. But it was not.
He put the instrument away and rested a careful hand on Alan's forehead. There was no fever. His pulse was fast but strong and steady. Alan slept soundly, never moving as Llwelling examined him. The corpsman shook his head in puzzlement.
Well, whatever the problem, Alan was in no immediate danger. Llwelling got quietly to his feet.
Alan shifted a little and turned his head.
"Ss there," he murmured. "I see it --"
Llwelling leaned forward, listening.
"Ss there; right there. Don't you see?"
"See what?" Llwelling spoke softly.
"Ss close -- s'close to her. Can see it. The Fairy Queen."
"What?"
Alan's eyelids flickered and he stiffened. "Mark!"
"It's okay." Llwelling put a hand on his shoulder. "Go back to sleep."
Alan relaxed.
The corpsman stood up. He had to get back to the infirmary before Dr. Mattos missed him. Quietly, he went to the door and stepped into the hall. The door slid shut behind him.
**********
tbc
