Wonderland Revisited: 6/7
by Nancy Smith and Linda Garrick
VI
Jason Llwelling finished his shift and returned to his quarters. He was deep in thought as he moved around the little cabin, stowing small, important personal items in his pockets. They would be coming out of hyperspace in a couple of hours and Alan had said that they were likely to be boarded at that point by the Viceregal Patrol and possibly a Jilectan or two. Llwelling definitely did not want to encounter any Jilectans.
Two and a half years ago, aboard this very ship, he had come so close to one that even now the memory made his flesh crawl. They had docked at Corala after Alan Westover had rescued Mark Linley from the Patrol and Duke Halthzor, himself, had come aboard, furiously angry, and demanding to see everyone who had been in any way connected with the incident. Half-paralyzed with fear, Jason had fled to the brig and hidden in the latrine. There he had remained, shivering, waiting for the inevitable discovery, until he'd heard the warning that the ship was readying for takeoff, and he'd known that, amazingly, he was safe. He'd returned to Sick Bay to find Dr. Mattos, a red welt across his face, who informed him that the danger was over.
Where could he go now to keep out of the Jilectans' way? Whatever they were looking for, it must be well hidden since even Alan Westover had been unable to find it. Of course, Alan was ill but the stories that Jason had heard about him had lost nothing in the telling. It was said that he had outdrawn a Jilectan and that he could read your whole history just by looking at you. Jason knew from personal experience how Alan had rescued his partner in the face of overwhelming odds. If the mighty Alan Westover couldn't find the thing, it probably couldn't be found.
Llwelling left his quarters and went slowly toward the library. It seemed like a fairly good place to hide, and sitting in the room among shelves and shelves of books was probably one of the most inconspicuous things he could do. When he had been a kid, he could spend an entire day in the public library and never notice where the time had gone. Books always helped him to relax whenever he was under stress -- and the *kind* of books! Back in school, the other boys his age had teased him about it.
"The Adventures of Hot Pants Susie" and "Sensation" magazine failed to hold his attention for long. Jason Llwelling preferred the classics. He could lose himself for hours in "The Merchant of Venice" or "The Frontier of Antepas."
The library was largely deserted. Half a dozen spacers sat at the tables or lounged in chairs, reading. Llwelling went over to seat himself in a corner of the videomodule section. He studied the row of labels, picked up "The Tempest" by William Shakespeare and fit it into the machine. With a sigh, he sat back to enjoy himself.
The jolt as they came out of hyperspace brought him sharply back to the present. Captain Chang's voice spoke over the intercom, informing the crew that the Patrol was boarding. Llwelling tried to swallow the knot of panic that rose in his throat at the sound of boots in the corridor a few moments later.
Trying to appear cool, Llwelling removed "The Tempest" from the machine and slipped another videomodule into it, hardly noticing what it was. "Fires of Fatima" flashed across the screen as several patrolmen entered and began searching the library, pulling the books from their shelves and scattering them about the deck. A Jilectan appeared in the doorway, his cold blue eyes sweeping the room. Llwelling had never seen a Jilectan close-up before. Even his glimpse of Duke Halthzor, two years before, had been fleeting, and now he felt his heart give a bound of panic at the sight of the alien. All the spacers got respectfully to their feet and Llwelling rose also, keeping his eyes fixed on the row of videomodules before him. "Fires of Fatima" continued, unnoticed. The Jilectan turned and strode away.
There was a concentrated sigh of relief from the spacers as they seated themselves once more, but no one ventured to leave the room while the Jilectan was still in the game room outside.
Jason seated himself again. Something that Alan had mumbled in his sleep a few hours ago was nudging at the edge of his awareness and he felt his fingertips begin to tingle ever so slightly. In the row of Shakespearean videomodules before him, one seemed to leap out at him. What was that crazy thing that Alan had said?
"It's close to her. Can see it. The Fairy Queen..."
Slowly, almost without conscious thought, Llwelling reached toward the rack of modules and withdrew "A Midsummer Night's Dream." He held it for a moment, looking at it, a sudden wild idea flashing through his brain. Two patrolmen walked up behind him and Llwelling jumped convulsively as one of the men stopped to admire the young, supple girl on the screen.
"What's this?" He put a hand on Llwelling's shoulder. "I kin see you and me's got similar tastes, youngster." He grinned and reached over, pulling the videomodules from their casings. "Cripes! It could be anywhere here. I wish the boss could give us some idea what we're looking for."
Llwelling sat frozen as the men emptied the shelf, dumping the neatly stacked modules on the floor.
"Well, one more strike out. It ain't here, Don."
The patrolmen moved away toward another part of the library. Llwelling remained where he was, clutching the videomodule in his hand. One of the men went into the men's room and another hesitated, then entered the ladies' room. "Fires of Fatima" proceeded.
A patrolman entered the room, the red stripe of a sublieutenant slashed across the silver helmet. One of the searchers emerged from the ladies' room and went over to him.
"Any luck?" the sublieutenant asked.
"Nothing, sir. We still haven't searched the gym, though."
"Oh damn! This is crazy! We don't even know what we're lookin' for!"
The other patrolman grinned. "Yeah, I know. I'm about fed up. By the way, any luck with the little missie? Got her softened up for me?"
"Nah!" The sublieutenant grunted disgustedly. "Her boyfriend showed up, wouldn'tcha know! Too bad. She looked like she'da been a good one."
"Why didn't you just tell him to get lost?"
The officer scowled. "He didn't look like the type you could do that with. He'da fought an' made a big ruckus about it. 'Sides, the little gal was kinda scared, an' that made the guy feel protective. It woulda been more trouble than it was worth."
"Aw, that's too bad. Maybe I'll try my luck after while. She still there?"
"I think so --"
The men drifted away, still talking. Llwelling sat still, trying to steady his shaking hands. He had to know if his suspicions were accurate, or if he was going crazy to think that *he* could locate the precious thing for which everyone was frantically searching, where Alan Westover had failed.
Moving casually, he slipped "Fires of Fatima" from the machine and inserted "A Midsummer Night's Dream" in its place.
Nothing happened. After a moment, Llwelling wiggled the module free of the machine. With great care, glancing nervously around, he drew a nail file from his pocket and pried it open.
A silvery computer disk was wedged against the videodisk inside, jamming the mechanism. Llwelling stared at it a long moment and then looked quickly about.
Nobody had observed him. He touched the little computer disk gently and felt his fingertips begin to tingle again. So this was what it meant to be a psychic! With a combination of knowledge, psychic talent and plain old luck, he had located the thing so feverishly sought by the Patrol and the Terran Underground. Briefly, he wondered what information it contained.
Casually, he snapped the module closed and slipped it into his back pocket. Then he sat back and reinserted "Fires of Fatima" into the machine.
Eventually the Patrol departed and he heard disgusted grunts and exclamations. A voice spoke over the intercom, announcing that the ship would be landing on Osterlak in five minutes. Somehow he must get the information to Alan without being spotted by a Jilectan.
Llwelling stood up and strolled slowly toward the door, nodding to the librarian as he passed. She gave him a nervous smile in return. The door slid open as he reached it and he found himself face to face with Alan Westover.
For a second, they stared at each other and Llwelling was amazed for a moment to realize that the famous psychic was actually shorter than he was. Jason had never encountered *anyone* shorter than himself before, except females, of course. Staring into the young man's long-lashed eyes, it was hard to believe that he wasn't exactly as he appeared: a young, pretty female spacer.
Quickly, Llwelling caught his wrist and pulled him toward the lounge. Alan went with him, unprotesting.
**********
VII
Alan was surprised to feel Llwelling's hand grasp his wrist, pulling him toward the lounge. The corpsman was scared; Alan sensed the emotion strongly, but he was also excited. The hand that clutched Alan's arm was cold, the palm damp with sweat.
The door of the lounge slid shut behind them.
"What's the matter?" Alan asked.
"I found it!" Llwelling's voice shook. He dug in his back pocket and produced a videomodule. "There's a computer disk inside it!"
Alan took it and pried the casing apart. "Well, by the stars!" He snapped the module back together and looked into the shining eyes of the young man before him. "Jase, you're a genius! We've got to tell --" He broke off at the jolt of alarm that shot through him, thrusting the videomodule quickly into the neck of his uniform. He spun about.
The door opened, revealing the tall, muscular form of a patrolman. The man stepped into the room and Alan belatedly recognized the patrolman who had accompanied the sublieutenant, earlier. The man pulled off his helmet and a pair of dark, incredulous eyes surveyed the scene before him.
"*That's* your boyfriend, missie?"
Alan took an involuntary step backwards. The patrolman grinned broadly. "Well, that little squirt won't stop *me*!" He advanced on Alan. "C'mere, baby."
Alan backed away. "Are you crazy? Get out of here!"
The patrolman reached for him and Alan ducked beneath his arm, darting across the room. The man came after him with a light, quick step that belied his size.
Llwelling stepped between them. "Leave the girl alone, sir."
The patrolman hit him, sending Llwelling spinning to the deck. Alan tried to duck under the man's arm again but this time he was ready. He caught Alan by one arm, jerking him around and pulling him close. "C'mon, baby, you might as well give up --" His voice cut off abruptly and Alan felt him stiffen. "What the hell's this?"
He reached down, pinning Alan's hands, and ripped the Space Corps uniform open to the waist. "What have you got in your bra, baby? Well, I'll be damned!" He reached inside the bra and removed the videomodule. "You ain't no girl! What the devil's going on here?"
There was a resounding cracking noise and the patrolman pitched forward, landing heavily on top of Alan and crushing him into the thin carpet covering the deck of the lounge. Then Llwelling was dragging the man's body off of him. The corpsman's face was stark white and beside him on the deck lay a broken pool cue. Llwelling must have taken it from the rack on the bulkhead just inside the game room, next door. Alan looked at it and then thoughtfully at the sprawled body of the patrolman. He wiped his lip with the back of his hand.
"That was fast thinking," he said. "Thanks."
Llwelling was staring at the body of the patrolman, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh Lord, Alan, I think I killed him!" He knelt beside the man and felt at his neck for a pulse. "He's dead! What'll we do?"
Alan had already known it. He put an arm around the corpsman's shoulders. "You saved my life. Understand? It's okay. Now we've got to hide him until we can get out of here. Help me get him behind the sofa; quick!" He grabbed one of the patrolman's arms and began to drag him toward the other side of the room. Llwelling helped him, looking sick.
Mark's presence was suddenly at the door, and an instant later he sensed Kevin as well. The door slid open as he realized it. Llwelling spun around with a gasp as the two men entered.
"You two all right?" Linley's gaze passed briefly over the body of the patrolman before he looked directly at Alan.
"Fine. Give us a hand here, will you?" Alan said.
Linley crossed to them, seized the patrolman by the wrists and deposited him efficiently behind the couch, out of the immediate range of vision of anyone entering the room.
"What happened?" Kevin asked. "You linked with us, y'know."
"I figured," Alan said. He straightened the padded bra and sealed the front of his blouse up to the neck. "Jase found the disk." He held the videomodule out to Mark. "You'd better put it somewhere. It isn't safe in my bosom with all these 'trols around, that's for sure."
Mark laughed and stuffed the little rectangle into his back pocket. "I figured somethin' like that happened." He glanced over at Llwelling. "Good work, kid. Hey, are you okay?"
Llwelling nodded and sank down heavily onto a chair. "It's just -- I never killed anybody before."
"*You* did it?" Mark laughed. "You learn fast!"
"Mark." Alan gripped the corpsman by the upper arm. "Listen to me, Jase. Have you ever seen a public execution?"
Llwelling nodded. "Yeah. And I saw what they were going to do to you on that broadcast from Corala, when Mr. Bronson shot that Jil." He shuddered. "It didn't bother me to see him do that, but this was a Terran -- like me."
"Not like you," Mark said. "This guy would have killed you without a blink if a Jil told him to. Or his superior officer." He met Llwelling's eyes very soberly. "He'd have sent all of us to the execution chair, an' it wouldn't have bothered him a bit. I was in the Patrol for ten Terran years. I know what I'm talkin' about."
"I know. Just --" Llwelling drew a deep breath, obviously trying to regain his equilibrium. "Just give me a minute."
"Sure, kid." Bronson glanced at his brother. "Now what? We gotta get that thing outta here."
"Yeah." Mark looked around. "We gotta plant the decoy."
"Give it to me." Alan held out his hand and Mark tossed another silver disk through the air to him. Alan pulled up a cushion from the nearest chair. In one spot there was a tiny split in the seam. He slipped the disk into the split and tucked the cushion into place again.
Linley grinned. "Perfect. They'll find it eventually but it'll take a while and we'll be long gone. Okay, chaps, let's take a permanent shore leave. Kid, you go a little ahead and keep your feelers out. We'll be right behind you."
**********
tbc
