Empath: 2/?
by Linda Garrick and Nancy Smith
Mark swore savagely, and Alan grimaced. The Raghiki were a species from a world far on the edge of the Sector. They were humanoid, but larger than Terrans, the average massing close to a hundred and twenty kilos and standing slightly over two meters in height. They were large boned and heavily muscled, far stronger than the average Terran male. Their bodies and faces were thickly coated with a black pelt of hair, which made them resemble, vaguely, the Terran gorilla, and their eyes were round and yellow, set far apart on their faces.
But, in spite of their appearance, they were highly intelligent and had achieved space flight at about the same time as Terra. Their culture tended toward isolationism, but it was well known that they bore no love toward the Jilectans, nor, as expected, the Jilectans toward them. They were a savage race, apt to do unpredictable, illogical things when aroused -- a trait that made them useless as patrolmen. In addition to this, the majority of Raghiki found it almost impossible to obey orders -- another characteristic that made then undesirable for the Viceregal Patrol.
"Did you get close enough to pick up anything from their minds?" Alan inquired hopefully.
Angela nodded. "Yes, I did. They were taking the Vicerienne for several reasons, but the primary ones were money and revenge. Lady Travinthzill is Halthzor's favorite wife." Angela paused. "She's also pregnant.”
“Damn," Mark said. "O'course, they ain't intendin' to send her back alive, either."
“No, of course not,” Angela said soberly. "If they did, she'd tell on them. They'd prefer that the Terran Underground get the blame. And I'm afraid we compounded the problem by appearing at the scene. The kidnappers took off as Kevin was carrying me back to the skipper. The Patrol arrived in time to see him, and her Ladyship's downed aircar. Naturally, they thought Kevin was Mark, and drew the obvious conclusion."
Mark muttered an imprecation. "Now where the hell would they take her --” He broke off suddenly with a sharp look at Angela. Alan's cousin was smiling demurely.
"Tovala," she said. "I got it right out of the leader's mind, and there's no way they could know that I know."
Quade stood up abruptly, beginning to pace the room. "Do you suppose Halthzor would listen if we explained what happened to him?"
Alan shook his head dubiously. "He's pretty convinced that the Underground's behind the whole thing."
"But if Lieutenant Westover explained that she'd read the kidnapper--"
"Yeah," Kevin said. It's worth a try, I guess, but I sure wouldn't want the kidnappers to get wind of it. They might change their destination, or kill the Lady prematurely, or something." He paused. "And man, if they kill her, Halthzor’s gonna have our hides if he can find us. He might do somethin' crazy, too -- slaughter a couple o' colonies, or even start in on Terra -- and brother, then we'd have a war on our hands."
“It'd look bad for us, too," Quade said. "Even though she's a Jil, she's a woman -- and pregnant. Most civilized species frown upon harming pregnant females -- and we'd have a devil of a time explaining the whole thing. Most people wouldn't believe us, and we'd lose a lot of sympathizers -- not to mention the ones who haven’t made up their minds about us yet. This is a real ticklish situation, and I'd sure like to get that Lady back alive so she could set the record straight."
"Yeah," Kevin said darkly. "Me too.”
"I think we should talk to Halthzor," Angie said. "Use a private line. He won't broadcast anything if he thinks it might endanger his Lady."
"I agree,” Alan said.
**********
A carefully nondescript aircar supplied by Ed Quade hovered over the city some forty-five minutes later. Alan and Mark were seated in front, with Kevin and Angela in the rear seat of the vehicle. Alan glanced at his companions and lifted crossed fingers. "Call the Viceregal Palace," he instructed the computer.
The voice of a Terran answered after what seemed ages, the man's bored features framed within the miniature screen. "Viceregal palace. What is your business?"
Angela leaned forward. "Hello," she said nervously. "My name is Angela Westover, and I must speak with His Highness right away, please."
"Holy...!” The man's eyes seemed to enlarge. "Hold on, Miss Westover! I'll transfer you...” There was a clicking on the line, and the Terran’s face vanished to be replaced instantly by the features of a Jilectan. “Angela Westover!" he barked. "I am Lord Luxvar -- His Highness's private secretary. He will speak to you momentarily. Do not break the connection!"
Alan leaned into the range of the screen. "M'lord Luxvar. I am Angela’s cousin, Alan Westover. She and I are strong, precogs and clairvoyants. If either of us senses the slightest hint of danger, we will presume that this call is being traced, and we will break contact at once. Is that clearly understood?"
"Understood." The Jilectan turned his profile toward the screen “I have located His Highness. Stand by."
The screen flickered out for a moment, then solidified once more with the face of Halthzor, Jilectan Viceroy and illustrious ruler of the Rovalli Sector framed within it. Even on the tiny screen, he was an imposing figure, with his coppery hair waving crisply back from his face, the tall, elegant jeweled headdress, and his regular, very handsome features. Icy grey eves surveyed Angela balefully.
"Have you harmed my wife, Terran?" The Jilectan's voice was oddly soft, the words perfectly pronounced, the grammar without flaw.
Angela shook her head. "I must speak to you privately, Your Highness. Your wife's safety depends on it."
The Viceroy turned his head, speaking softly. An instant later he turned back to the screen. "There is none listening but myself, Terran. What have you done with my wife?"
"Your Highness," Angela said desperately, "the Underground isn't responsible for this. I was at the scene of the abduction, and I saw the kidnappers."
Halthzor's face was a frozen mask. "It will do no good to lie, Terran. I know you have her. What are your terms for her safe return?"
"Your Highness," Angela protested, “I'm a psychic, and I picked up her call for help. I answered it, and my companion, Kevin Bronson was with me. We arrived in time to see who it was. They were Raghiki, M’lord. I was hit, and they put her in a scout and took off. Bronson was carrying me back to our vessel when the Patrol arrived. They thought he was Mark Linley -- they're brothers, you know, and they look a lot alike. But we had nothing to do with her capture."
"I do not believe you," the Viceroy stated. "If you will tell me what you want, I will try to meet your demands.”
Alan sighed. "I'm afraid this is a waste of time, Angie."
Angela shook her head. "We don't have her, M’lord. The Raghiki want us to be blamed, and as soon as they have the ransom money, they'll kill her. Please listen to me."
Halthzor’s eyes narrowed. "How do you know this?"
Angela hesitated a moment. "I'm a psychic, M’lord," she repeated. "I got close enough to read their minds.”
"If that is true," Halthzor said, "You must know where they are taking her."
Again she hesitated. "Yes, M’lord, I do. But if the Raghiki realize they've been discovered, they're sure to kill your wife immediately. And if a Patrol cruiser shows up around the planet, they’ll know. That's why I insisted that this conversation be made in private. If they find out that the Underground knows where they're taking Her Highness, they're going to kill her."
The Viceroy was silent a moment.
"Do you understand, Your Highness?” Angela said. "Don't tell anyone about this conversation, or your wife is as good as dead."
"I understand,” Halthzor said, his voice expressionless. "But I still do not believe you.”
Angela sighed. "Your Highness --”
"Where do you claim these Raghiki have taken my wife, Terran?” Halthzor asked. Angela hesitated again, glancing at Kevin. Bronson shook his head sharply.
The girl spoke into the videophone again. "M'lord, I don't dare tell you. If you don't believe we have nothing to do with it, you may send a battlecruiser to the planet, and the Lady will be killed. If she's killed, the Underground will be blamed, and we don't want to be blamed."
The Viceroy’s face hardened. "You are lying, Terran. You have her. Name your terms.”
A prickle crept up Alan's spine. "I'm getting a warning, Angie!"
"Sorry, Jil." Mark reached forward and broke the connection. The Viceroy started to say something, just as his face on the screen vanished.
There was a long silence. Then Alan glanced at his friend. "I think we should go after her, ourselves, Mark."
"I agree." Linley glanced at his brother. "How 'bout you, Kev?"
Bronson looked at Angela. "It's the only thing I can think of." He sighed. “Tovala’s a helluva world. We better bring along lotsa bug repellent."
Alan frowned at his cousin. "Are you sure you're up to it, Angie? How's the arm?"
“It'll be fine," Angela said. "Don't make me stay behind, Alan."
He smiled. "All right, but you take it easy."
“I will.”
Bronson shook his head dubiously. "I've been to Tovala," he said. "It's a real gorgeous place. Stingin' insects, fierce, carnivorous critters at every turn, lotsa jungle, an' hotter'n hell. We're gonna have an awful time tracin' even a Jil in a place like that. Could take weeks, an' we ain't got weeks."
Alan chewed his lip, frowning. "She'll be wide open and broadcasting for help -- that is, if she's conscious. They may keep her drugged, though. Jils can be troublesome creatures." He hesitated. "We ought to find out a few more things about her, if we can. What psychic powers does she have? Is she a telekinetic?”
"I’ll contact one of our people in the Viceregal Palace," Mark said. "See if they can get us an article o' personal value to the Lady, and maybe give us some idea o' her psychic abilities."
"Tell 'em to hurry," Alan said. "We haven't got much time. They'll undoubtedly kill her as soon as Halthzor pays the ransom.
**********
Preparations for departure were finished when the young servant girl arrived at Chelari’s Bar and Grill. Quade showed her through the door, and Mark stood up, motioning her to a seat. She was heavily cloaked and wearing the burnoose of a Wickrell colonist. They couldn't see her face.
She glided silently forward and settled into a chair. “Please excuse me, but I can't show my face.”
"That’s all right," Alan said. "Did you get what we need?”
She reached beneath her robes and brought out a small article, placing it carefully on the table before them. "This is M'Lady Travinthzill's.”
Alan picked it up. It was an intricate, platinum brooch, encrusted with tiny glittering blue stones. Alan's fingertips tingled as he touched it.
"She's alive," he said.
The figure in the burnoose folded small slender hands in her lap. "It was given to her by her brother, Lord Revolthvor. She wore it often."
"I can tell." Alan slipped the brooch into his pocket. "Can you tell us what psychic abilities M’Lady has, Miss?"
"She is a telepath, sir -- a very strong one. She is also a weak psychometrist.”
"Are those, her only talents?"
"The only ones I know about."
"You don't know if she's a telekinetic?"
"I heard them talking. She's not."
"Did you know anything about this business before it began?" Mark asked. “Had you picked up any rumors?”
"No, sir -- none. But her ladyship’s regular chauffeur was ill this morning. A replacement had arrived just before the abduction, and she wasn't too pleased when she saw it was an Arcturian. M'lady doesn't like Arcturians."
"Bet she likes 'em even less, now," Mark said wryly.
"Can you think of anything else which would be of help?" Alan asked.
The servant thought for a moment, and shook her head.
"Okay." Kevin stood up. "We better get crackin’.”
"Thank you, Miss," Alan said.
The servant inclined her head, rose, and glided softly from the room.
II
The trip to Tovala took twelve hours. The Underground had supplied them with a scout ship in place of the tiny skippership in which they had arrived on Riskell, since they hoped to be able to return with Lady Travinthzill and her captors. Alan, at the controls, beside Mark, glanced up as a light flashed red on the panel. “Sublight in five minutes. Strap in back there.”
Angela appeared at the door, her tiny form compact and slender in her mottled grey and green flight suit. They all wore the same clothing -- the best colors for concealment in the jungle, Quade had advised. Mark glanced around. "How's the arm, sweetie?"
"All right. Just a little stiff."
"You be careful with it. Blaster burns can be nasty things."
“I will,” she assured him.
"Excited?" Alan asked, smiling.
She flushed. "Yes, I am. I've never been on a really important mission before. Gosh! Halthzor’s wife -- his number one wife, of all Jils to kidnap! It must have taken somebody with a lot of nerve to do this."
"Raghiki are the damnedest characters you'll ever meet," Mark said, turning back to the control panel. "Wait 'til you meet 'em. Scary lookin' critters, too -- like somethin' outta a haunted house. First time I saw one I was eighteen years old, an' I damn near jumped outta my skin. Mean, bunch, too, and if there ever were born criminals, they are. They don't give a hoot about the law, and they ain't a bit sympathetic or tolerant o' the other species. An' they do the screwiest things! I just hope this blasted Lady don't do somethin' to irritate one of ‘em. Jils ain't the most tolerant when it comes to the lower species, anyway an' if she pushes one of 'em too far, they'll do her in without waitin' for the ransom -- or maybe maim her or somethin', just for fun, before we can get there."
"If she's got any sense," Kevin's voice said from somewhere behind Angela, "she'll keep her mouth shut. C'mon and get strapped in, baby. We'll be coming out of hyperspace in a minute."
"Okay." She went back into the passenger section again, and Alan turned forward. Mark grinned at him. "She’s a cute li'l thing," he remarked.
"Who? Oh, Angie? Yes, I guess she is."
"Reminds me a lot of you, kid. More charm'n she knows what to do with."
Alan smiled. He was used to Mark ribbing him about his empathic talents.
Both he and Angie, aside from possessing a large number of other psychic abilities, were strong empaths. Empathy -- the ability to sense the emotions and feelings of others, was the most common talent among Terran psychics, and the least common among the Jilectans. Empathy usually operated without the person's conscious control, and could certainly be detrimental at times. As Mark often said, Alan was too soft hearted for his own good. But empaths had great advantages over those beings without the talent. An empath knew instinctively how to make those he liked like him, and, just as instinctively, could always win out in a battle of words by jabbing at his opponent’s sore points.
"One minute," Mark said. Alan reached into the inner pocket of his flight suit touching the brooch lightly. Hyperspace tended to distort most psychic maneuvers, and he was now unsure whether the owner of the little ornament was still alive. He had never thought he would he worried about the welfare of a Jilectan, he mused. The Jils! They were his bitter enemies. Ever since he had met Lord Salthvor they had been his enemies. Salthvor had ordered his capture, and his execution. Alan, then unaware of his psychic talents, would have died a slow, painful death if Mark Linley had not come to his rescue, sacrificing his career in the Patrol at the same time.
There was a jolt as they came out of hyperspace, and the stars reappeared on the viewscreen. Tovala floated before them, a dark green sphere, patched with blue and girdled with clouds. A single, large moon was off to one side, glowing bright against the darkness.
"Here we are," Mark said. "Scanners clear. Looks peaceful enough.”
"Just wait 'til you yet down there," Kevin said darkly. Alan gazed down at the planet, the brooch once again tingling faintly against his palm. Lady Travinthzill was still alive.
The ship moved rapidly toward the planet, and Alan watched it swell in the screen. Tovala was large as Terra-type planets went, being 1.4 times the size of Earth, but less dense. The gravity was .96 Terran, and a good thing, too, considering the climate. It was a hot world, the mean temperature in the northern sections averaging between 35° and 45° Celsius. Its star, Maval, was a class F, brighter and hotter than Sol, and the equatorial regions of the planet were largely desert, while the northern sections consisted mostly of lush, tropical vegetation.
"Hittin' the pull," Mark said. "Can you give me some direction, kid?"
Alan closed his eyes, concentrating. "North, I think. I need to get closer.”
"Okay." Mark tapped a spot on the panel. "I’ll hafta take us in fast. If they have a scanner setup down there, we could be spotted. We don't want those stinkin' apes panickin' an’ killin’ her before we can get there."
The planet swelled rapidly, filling the entire screen, and the sensations flowing from the little jewel increased. "Northern portion, all right," Alan said.
"Figures. The rest of the damned planet is too hot even for the Raghiki. As it is, her Ladyship's probably cookin'. Hard on an aristocratic Madam like her, who's used to her comforts."
"Don't go in too far north.” Alan was concentrating again. "I don't want them to hear us."
"Right." Mark punched buttons on the computer and a readout flickered on the screen. "That okay?"
Alan opened his eyes and studied the figures. "I think so." Suddenly the location was clear to him, and he smiled. "I've got it!”
"Where?”
Alan leaned forward, touching a point on the little display map. "She's in this area. She's awake, too, and broadcasting like crazy."
"Can you send her a message? Let her know that help's on the way?"
Alan tried, and then shook his head. "She's too far away, still. I'm just picking up the distress call through the brooch. I don't think she could possibly hear me yet. When we're closer she should be able to, though."
A thin whine began as they entered the outer layers of atmosphere. It increased rapidly to a scream, and then a roar, and the deck grew warm beneath Alan’s feet. Then Mark was bringing them out of the dive and leveling off. Beneath them the viewscreen showed a lush growth of jungle.
"Still north," Alan said.
"Right." Mark turned the ship in the indicated direction. Alan realized suddenly that his partner was managing the controls one handed, while his other hand was resting lightly on Alan's wrist.
"Lotsa jungle down there," he remarked. "I gotta feelin' we're gonna hafta use the beach for a landin' field. How far is she from the ocean? Can you tell'?"
Alan concentrated, his gaze never leaving the image of the planet below. "It's hard to be sure," he said at last. "Like I said, she’s somewhere in this area, but I can't be exact from this distance, and besides, we don't dare go too near. If the Raghiki hear us, the Lady's goose is cooked." Again he hesitated, concentrating. "I'd say no more than fifteen kilometers -- maybe less."
"Quite a hike through that jungle, though," Mark said unhappily. "Sure wish we could find some spot closer. Oh, well...there’s the beach ahead. I'll bring us as close as I can, then set down. Tell me where."
"All right.” Alan slouched down in the seat, the brooch clutched in one hand. "We’re close now -- really close. I might be able to contact her when we land...wait a minute. We're getting, farther away. Turn around and go back."
The ship skimmed out over the ocean in a wide circle, then shot back toward the beach and headed back in the direction they had come, just flanking the shoreline. Alan closed his eyes again, waiting until the sensation of proximity reached its peak. “Here. She's as close as we can get. Set down."
"Okay.” Linley settled the little craft onto the sand and cut the engines. "There I've got us behind some big rocks. Should hide us pretty well."
Alan nodded. “Hold on. I’ll try to contact her now. Go collect our stuff and get Angie and Kevin ready."
“Sure.” Linley disappeared through the doorway and Alan settled back in the seat, closing his eyes and reaching telepathically for the mind of Lady Travinthzill.
Her face materialized at once, sharp and clear before his eyes. He caught an instant's impression of pain in teh ankles and wrists, and of overpowering thirst. Almost deafeningly came again her call for help, and through the control room door Alan heard Angie's surprised exclamation as she too received it. He spoke telepathically, trying to put a calming tone into his mental words. *Your Highness, do you hear me?*
*Yes!* Her frantic response rang almost painfully through his mind, and abruptly he understood how it had been impossible for Angela to ignore the call when she had received it back on Riskell. *Yes!* Came the cry again. *I hear you! Help me!*
*We’re coming, Your Highness,* he replied. *Stay calm and wait. We're coming.*
*Who is this?* He sensed surprise in her words. *You're not a Jilectan!*
*I'm a Terran psychic, Your Highness,* Alan replied. *Your husband is blaming your abduction on the Underground. That’s why we're here.*
*I see,* came the transmitted words. *And if you can free me, I will absolve the Underground from blame*
*Yes,* Alan returned. *At least, that's what we're hoping. The Underground had nothing to do with it, Your Highness*
*Oh, I realize that. I have already read my captor's minds. They want the Underground blamed.*
*I know,* said Alan. He felt her probe start to deepen, and snapped his shields up at once, breaking contact.
"Whassa matter, kid?" Mark was again beside him, and Kevin and Angela were in the control room doorway, watching.
"She tried to probe me."
Mark shrugged philosophically. "A Jil is a Jil. She was probably thinking you couldn't detect it, or she wouldn't've risked losing our help. Now she's probably scared silly thinkin' she's made you mad." He grinned. "She'll never admit it, though. You can bet on that."
"Damn Jil," Kevin said darkly. "If it wasn't for us gettin' the blame, I'd say, forget her. Let 'em kill her.”
"Me too,” Mark said.
"Just a minute. I’ll contact her again.” Alan cautiously opened his shields, extending once more his telepathic call. Her mind touched his instantly, and he sensed fright and anger.
*You will not break contact again, Terran!* Her mental voice sounded furious in his mind.
*Your Highness,* he said, trying to keep his answer respectful, yet firm, *I will remain in contact with you only if you make no further attempt to probe my mind. I want to help you, but I won't allow you to discover the secrets of my organization through me. Don't try it again, or I'll put my shields up and keep them up.*
For a moment there was no reply, and Alan sensed an inner struggle within the Lady. *Very well, Terran,* came the words at last. *I will not try again, but I advise you to hurry. My captors are not treating me well.*
*We're coming as fast as we can, M’lady.* Alan looked up at Mark. “Let’s go.”
"You still in contact with her?"
"Yes. She's pretty scared." He grinned. "But she's all Jil -- ordering me around as soon as she realized I was a Terran."
Mark returned the grin. "It's kinda nice to be able to call the shots for once, ain’t it?" He picked up his pack and began to strap it between his shoulders. "Okay, let's move. "
They went through the passenger section and Kevin triggered the control to open the hatch. It slid aside and a blast of hot air hit them. Alan gasped, and Mark swore unimaginatively, glancing, at the band on his wrist. "Holy hell! The temperature's 41°, and we're on the beach! It's gonna get a lot hotter as we go inland, folks."
Alan wiped his eyes with his sleeve. The Lady's voice spoke in his mind, commanding him to hurry. He sent a reassuring phrase back and stepped from the airlock beside his partner.
A hot wind was blowing in from the ocean, and a small, birdlike form wheeled above the ship, uttering hoarse, bleat-like cries. Kevin and Angela followed their companions down the boarding ramp, and Alan glanced at the glittering waves. The sun hovered a little above the horizon, and the sky was a clear, blazing blue. Ahead was a green, waving mass of jungle growth.
*Hurry, Terran!* the Lady's voice commanded.
*We are, Your Highness.* Alan strode across the fine, grainy sand toward the foliage. Mark lifted a long, razor sharp machete and glanced at him.
"We're gonna hafta chop our way through. Stay behind me, but tell me which way to go."
"Okay." Alan retreated to walk beside Kevin and Angela. Linley swung the machete expertly, sheering away the shrubbery and cutting a path for his companions.
Thorny creepers tugged at their flight suits and hair, and overhead towered gigantic trees in full leaf. They were forced to skirt the burned out trunks of many more.
“Looks like they might get a few lightning storms around here," Angie panted.
"Yeah." Kevin plunged forward, knee deep in a tangle of thorny creepers. Alan felt something settle on the damp skin of his neck, and there was a sudden, biting sting. He slapped furiously at the creature, and felt something crunch beneath his hand. Kevin cussed lividly, slapping at his ear.
Angela waved one of the things away. It was large, and quite beautiful in appearance, resembling vaguely a Terran Luna moth. Alan felt another one whirr past his ear and brushed at it. The thing circled away to return a moment later. "Time for the repellent," Kevin said, as Mark paused with a curse, and slapped at his neck.
"Yeah.” Linley discarded the squashed body and dug through his pack. "Here it is. Ain't you got some, Alan?"
"Somewhere." Alan located the bottle and began to spray his exposed skin. His companions waited impatiently as he and Mark finished, then took the repellent, slathering themselves. A pseudo-Lunamoth hovered hopefully over Alan's bare arm for a moment, tried to settle, then rose again with a frustrated buzz. Alan felt a glow of satisfaction.
The Lady’s voice spoke in his mind, making him jump. *Hurry, Terran!*
*We're doing our best, M'lady,* he sent the words back, feeling a little tug of annoyance. *We’re having some difficulties.*
He was interrupted by the Lady's voice, but she was no longer speaking to him. The link he held with her transmitted the words, however, and he heard them clearly.
*I am very thirsty. Give me water at once!*
He couldn't hear the reply, but from the Lady's mind there emanated a quick impression of anger. *How dare you speak to me in that manner?* A pause, and the Jilectan's anger intensified. *You will all horribly for this!*
“No!” Alan shouted the word aloud. "M'lady, don't! Don't make them angry!"
It was too late. He felt a hand strike the side of his face, and there was a quick impression of fright and pain. He heard her cry out as the feeling was transmitted across the tenuous link he held with her, and another blow rocked him a moment later, harder than the first. The Lady's scream echoed in his mind, and Alan bit his lower lip.
“What'sa matter, kid?” Kevin asked.
"She sassed 'em," Alan said. "Now they're beating on her. Holy smoke! I hope they don't kill her. OUCH!"
There was another blow, then a choked cry of pain. Alan looked up. "Hurry, Mark! Straight ahead.”
"Right.” Mark swung the machete with a will. "Are they still hittin' her?"
“Yes.” Alan flinched as he felt another blow. The Lady's consciousness began to fade. A fifth blow and their link was gone.
Angela was looking scared. "Alan, is she dead'? I'm not getting her call now."
He shook his head. "I don't think so. They've just knocked her out. It would have killed a Terran for a Raghiki to hit him that many times, and that hard. But she's a Jil."
"Hurry," Angie said. "She might be hurt pretty bad, even if they didn't kill her, and if she loses that baby she might still blame us."
"Jils are tough," Mark said optimistically. "They survive the damnedest things -- things that would kill a Terran -- or even an Arcturian. Betcha she'll still be in better shape than us when we do reach her."
I hope so," Angela said soberly. "Because if they kill her, there won't be anyone to--"
"To get us off the hook,” Kevin finished for her. "Yeah, I know."
Alan slapped at his neck. "Doggone it! Those things don't seen to mind the repellent much!”
Mark glanced back and grinned. "It's your sweet disposition, kid -- shines right through. Put some more on."
Alan obeyed, slathering his face and neck.
Angie screamed.
Alan’s head jerked up. Something large and dark colored was diving through the overhead branches directly at Mark. Kevin bellowed a warning and Alan yanked out his blaster as the creature shot past, grazing Linley's blond head. Mark ducked and swore as the thing swooped triumphantly upward once more, a lock of blond hair gripped in its beak.
"What the hell--" Kevin peered up into the trees, but the marauder had vanished. Alan looked quickly at his partner. "Are you okay, Mark?"
"Yeah." Linley rubbed his head. "Damn thing almost scalped me." He scowled darkly up into the trees.
Kevin waved away another moth. "Let's get goin’ -- watch it!"
The thing dove again, once more aiming for Mark. Alan brought the blaster up without thinking and the weapon cracked. There was a queer clacking sound, followed by a pained screech, and the thing went swooping upward again to vanish into the trees. From the concealment came a loud, indignant series of clacks and hoots. Kevin laughed.
"I think you winged 'im. Brother, is he mad at you!"
Mark slapped Alan on the shoulder. "That’s my partner. Fastest draw in the galaxy."
Alan made a face. "Cut it out, Mark. C'mon, we'd better hurry. Bear a little to the left, now."
"Right." Mark swung the machete and they forged on again. He cursed breathlessly as a creeper snagged his flight suit, yanking him to one side. Alan stepped forward to help him.
His foot struck something, which gave with a soft, popping sound. Glancing down, he saw it was a pretty, pink-tinged fungus like growth, which clung to a damp log. His foot had dislodged it, and a whitish vapor was emerging.
The stuff caught at his throat, stingingly, and Alan's eyes blurred with tears. He gave a choked cry of warning and staggered to one side, gasping for breath. His head was spinning crazily, and he dropped heavily to his knees in the thorny undergrowth. Far away he heard Mark shouting his name.
**********
III
"Alan!" Mark dropped the machete and knelt beside his partner. “Kid, are you okay?”
There was a sharp, stinging sensation in his eyes, and Mark realized it came from the pale vapor that had emerged from the fungus Alan had kicked. Without thinking, he scooped Alan up and retreated as far from the stuff as possible. "Kev! Get the machete and chop us outta here! Keep away from that stuff!”
Bronson obeyed, grabbing the knife and swinging it viciously at the thorns. Angela ran forward, snatched up the brooch that Alan had dropped, and followed.
Alan was limp across Mark's shoulders as they plunged away from the spot and Linley forced down panic. "Kid!" he gasped. "Wake up, kid! Please!"
Bronson paused, stabbing the machete to the ground. "Is he okay?”
"I dunno." Mark dropped to his knees and stretched Alan gently on the ground. Alan groaned, choking a little, and his eyes opened.
"Kid?" Mark said. "You okay?"
Alan stared up at him a moment. Then his eyes widened and he gave a horrified yelp, jerking back. The link closed with a jolt of terror.
"Easy, kid.” Bronson squatted beside him, trying to rest a hand on Alan’s arm. Alan flinched from his touch, and one hand flashed toward his holster. With breathtaking speed, the blaster was in his hand and lifting.
"What th--!" Mark caught his wrist in an iron grip. “Easy, kid. It's us." Gently but firmly, he removed the weapon from Alan's grasp.
“Mark!" Alan shouted his name, twisting frantically in Linley’s grasp. "Mark, help me!"
"Kid! It's me!” Linley caught his shoulders, shaking him a little. "It's me!”
The link remained tight, and Alan strained against his hands, half sobbing his name. "Let me go damn you! Mark! Mark!"
"He's hallucinating," Angela said. "Alan, it's okay. Mark's right here."
"Kid!" Mark lifted him to a sitting position, holding his wrists firmly. Alan twisted his face away, his eyes screwed tightly shut. "Dammit, kid! Look at me!"
Alan stopped struggling and slowly his eyes opened. Mark shook him. "Look at me, kid!" he commanded.
Alan did, and the link tightened. "Easy, there.” Mark spoke gently. "You know me, don’t'cha?” Alan nodded, glaring at him.
"Who am I?"
Alan swallowed hard. "Lord Salthvor."
"Salthvor! Salthvor's dead! You killed him!”
Alan laughed harshly. "You must think I'm crazy to believe that!" he said scornfully.
Mark looked desperately at Kevin. "What'll we do?"
Bronson started to reach for Alan again, but Alan jerked back from him. "I won’t tell you anything!" he spat. "Mark! Help me!"
"Alan," Angie said.
"No!" He strained against Linley’s hands, then went limp, as though suddenly realizing the futility of resistance. Angela reached forward, resting a hand on his forehead. He flinched violently beneath her touch.
"It won't work!" he whispered angrily. "You're wasting your time. It won't work!”
Angela concentrated a moment, then shook her head. "He's got his shields up tight. I can't get through. Alan, look at me."
Alan closed his eyes. "You're wasting your time, M'Lady. My shields stay up."
Mark shook him again. "Kid! Snap out of it!"
Alan swung at him. “Mark! Where are you?”
"One of you will have to carry him," Angela said. "We've got to go on. I can do the tracking."
Kevin nodded. "She's right; we gotta push on. The effect o' that stuff'll probably wear off after awhile."
"But...holy hell, what if it don't wear off!"
"I'll carry him. You handle the machete."
"Like hell! I'll carry him. You handle the damned machete."
"Okay." Kevin drew a coil of rope from his pack. "We better tie him up. He might make a grab for your blaster, and he's too damn fast for comfort."
Mark shoved his brother's hands away. "We ain’t tying him up. It'll just scare him more. You carry my blaster."
"Bu--” Bronson gave in. "All right." He took the weapon and shoved it into his belt, then hefted the machete again. Mark stood up, holding Alan by the arm.
"Can you walk, kid?” he asked.
"Where are you taking me?” Alan's tone was hostile.
"We're tryin' to reach Lady Travinthzill. C'mon, now, we ain't gonna hurtcha."
Alan twisted suddenly, wrenching his arm free. The blaster leaped from Kevin's grasp, spinning through the air toward him.
“No!“ Mark struck the blaster aside. "Dammit, kid!" He caught his struggling partner, pinning his arms to his sides. "Cut it out!" Alan struggled a moment longer, then subsided. Mark lifted him bodily. "Don't fight me, kid. I don't wanna tie you up, dammit!"
Alan glared at him, but ceased to struggle.
”Let's go," Kevin said.
They went on. Alan remained motionless in Mark's arms, and after a few minutes his head began to droop. Angela walked beside them, holding the brooch in her hands.
"M'lady's coming to," she said suddenly. "I'm getting her. She's asking what happened to the Terran male. What’ll I tell her?”
"Tell her it's none o' her damn business," Mark said grimly. "It's 'cause o' her we're in this mess, anyhow."
"She didn't ask to be kidnapped, Mark," Angela said quietly.
Linley didn't reply, and they went on another thirty minutes in silence. Alan was soundly asleep, his dark head drooping against Mark's arm. The link had faded out twenty minutes earlier. Linley shifted his partner to his shoulder, grunting a little with effort. Psychics were all small, and Alan was light as Terran males go, but the heat, commingled with the difficult terrain was making Mark's task twice as difficult as it would have been otherwise. His shoulders and the muscles in his arms were aching dully, while his heart was beginning to pound uncomfortably against his ribs.
Kevin paused, machete in hand, and glanced back at his brother. "Want me to take him awhile?”
Mark hesitated, not wanting to entrust his partner to anyone else, but knowing logically that Kevin was equally as dependable as himself. "All right. Be careful with him. Angie, you take the blasters a minute while we make the transfer."
She obeyed, watching solicitously as Mark started to hand Alan to Kevin. Alan stirred as the exchange was made, groaning softly.
"Kid?” Kevin spoke hopefully. "Kid, can you hear me?”
Alan relaxed again, his breathing almost inaudible. Bronson sighed and lifted him lightly to one shoulder, while Mark took the weapons from Angela, stowing them in his belt.
“How’s M’Lady doin'?” he inquired, picking up the machete.
“All right,” Angela replied. “She’s awfully thirsty, though -- they haven’t given her any water or food since she arrived. She's still in pain, too, from that beating they gave her."
A cloud blotted out the sun, and Mark glanced up. The sky was darkening, but the air seemed no cooler. Sweat ran in rivulets down his face, and his flight suit was dripping wet. In spite of the repellent, the pseudo-Luna moths were beginning to pester them again. There was no doubt, now, that they preferred Alan over the other members of the party. Maybe they liked his blood type or something, Mark thought disgustedly.
Kevin swore, fanning at the creatures with one hand. "Angie, spray him again, willya'. They're eatin' him alive."
"Sure.” She complied. "Listen, we'd better hurry. Lady Travinthzill's getting scareder. I think those guys are talking about killing her.”
Mark grunted a reply and went on, chopping away the tangled underbrush that barred their way. The clouds overhead thickened, and after another thirty minutes it began to rain. The drops were cool on their sweating faces, and Alan stirred again, moaning softly. Mark stopped, and again they switched tasks, Kevin taking the weapons and machete, Linley taking Alan. Alan moaned again as Linley took him, and his eyes opened to stare blearily upward.
"Hold it!" Mark commanded. He sank to his knees on the forest floor. "Alan? Kid, do you hear me?"
"Mark?" Alan mumbled.
"Yeah, it’s me."
Alan's eyes flicked to his face, then closed again. He smiled faintly. “You got me away from 'em.” The word faded out and Alan was instantly asleep again. Mark stared down at him in sheer relief. Angie touched his shoulder.
"Come on, Mark. We'd better hurry."
He nodded jerkily. "Right. Just a minute." He unfastened the canteen from his belt, uncapped it, and held it to Alan's lips. Alan swallowed a mouthful, and Linley removed the container, replacing it on his belt.
Kevin was grinning with relief as they went on. "Nice to have him recognize us again. Damn! That was awful."
Mark agreed with him. The feeling of the link between him and his partner, and hearing Alan calling for help while fighting them had been very difficult to hear -- almost like doing battle with oneself.
"Wonder what that damned stuff was," Bronson remarked, chopping away a tangle of vines.
"A fungus o' some sort," Mark told him. "Looked sorta like a tulip -- kinda pretty, really. He kicked it, and that white stuff came out. He musta got a good whiff of it. We’ll hafta be careful after this."
"Yeah...watch it!" Kevin ducked, swearing as one of the dark, bird-like creatures dove from the trees overhead. There was a loud hoot as the thing went past, and Kevin swore again as it ripped a patch of hair from his head. Angela’s blaster cracked, but the creature vanished once more into the trees with a triumphant cackle, succeeded by what sounded like insane laughter. Kevin cussed fluently, rubbing his head. "The critters seem to like us blondes."
“Could just be co-incidence,” Mark said, shifting Alan to his other shoulder.
"Like hell."
"We'd better hurry." Angie's voice sounded worried.
Alan stirred again, and Mark lowered him from his shoulders to the ground. "Kid? You with us?"
Alan's eyes opened, focusing instantly on his face. For a moment he looked confused, and then frightened. The mind link closed.
"Alan, don't look like that, for the luvamike! It's me!"
“Mark!” Recognition came into his partner's eyes and the mind link began to fade.
“You know me now, kid?"
"Huh? Of course I know you." Alan blinked at him, then turned his head to look at Kevin. For a moment he stiffened, the mind link growing stronger. "Who...? Oh. Kev, it's you!" Alan relaxed, and the link faded again.
"Gosh, for a minute there I thought you were a Jil. Crazy, huh?"
"Yeah," Mark agreed. "Crazy."
Alan looked back at Linley. "What happened? Why were you carrying me?”
Mark grinned faintly "It's a long story. How do you feel?”
"Okay. A little woozy. What happened?" He rubbed a hand across his face. "Gosh, when did it start raining?"
“About an hour ago. Man! You scared me silly!"
"Me too," Kevin said.
"I did? Why? I'm okay." Alan rubbed his face again. "My eyes feel a little funny, that's all. Last thing I remember is following you through the jungle.”
"I'll tellya as we go. Angie says we gotta hurry."
Alan nodded. "You've been tracing, Angie? Good. I'll take it now."
"Uh uh!" Mark spoke firmly. "She's doin' just fine, an' you let her keep doin' it for awhile. I don't wantcha thinkin' I'm a Jil no more."
"A Jil?” Alan laughed. "You're kidding?"
"I ain't kiddin'. I was Salthvor, and Angie was some Lady or other. I dunno who Kevin was, but you didn't like none of us."
“Hurry,” Angie said.
"Okay." Mark took Alan's arm as Kevin began to swing the machete again. Angela went after him, still clutching the brooch. Alan's knees wobbled, and Mark clamped an arm around his shoulders. "I'd better carry you."
"No, Mark! No, darn it! Put me down!"
Angela glanced back, smiling. "Let him carry you, Alan,” she advised. "These thorns are murder on the legs."
"Put me down, Mark! Blast it! That's an order."
"Shut up," Mark said.
"Drat it, Mark! You make me feel like a little kid!"
"I said shut up." Linley strode on, and Alan gave in at last.
"What happened to me?" he asked.
Briefly, Linley told him. "You were outta your head. You thought we were all Jils, and you were linked with Kevin an' me both."
"I don't remember any of it," Alan said.
"You tried to shoot us, too. Nearly succeeded."
Alan looked horrified. "Gosh!”
"Just don't kick any more funguses, okay?"
“Fungi," Angie said.
Alan nodded. "I think we'd better hurry," he said suddenly. "The Lady's getting pretty scared."
"So Angie’s been tellin' us." Mark glanced up as lightning flashed overhead. There was a rumble of thunder.
"Electrical storm comin’," Kevin said. "Am I still on course, Angie honey?"
"Pretty much," she replied. "Bear a little to the left."
Alan shifted uncomfortably. "Poor Lady. Those darned Raghiki still haven't given her anything to drink. She's awfully thirsty."
Lightning flashed again, closer this time, and thunder crashed. Wind roared in the treetops, and the moth-like creatures swarmed out of the blowing raindrops, circling enthusiastically around the party.
"They don't seen too upset by our bug repellent, do they?" Linley remarked.
Alan slapped at his neck. "Ouch! I guess the rain's washing the stuff off as fast as we put it on.”
“It ain't supposed to," Mark said. "This stuff's oil based. It’s supposed to stay on in spite o' sweat, rain, and hostile environments o’ all sorts...YOUCH!"
Alan waved two of the creatures away from Mark’s ear. "I think I can walk on my own, now. Really, Mark, I’m fine."
Linley hesitated, then lowered Alan to the ground. “Okay, kid, we’ll give it a try." He watched anxiously as his partner straightened up. "Tell me if you need any help."
Angela stumbled over a fallen tree trunk. There was a soft 'pop', and a white mist filled the air.
"Angie!" Alan started forward, but Mark yanked him back, swearing. Kevin spun and took in the situation at a glance. He leaped forward, holding his breath, and lifted his partner, tossing her to one shoulder. Mark grabbed the machete, swinging it to clear the path. Lightning flashed so near he had to shut his eyes. There was a deafening explosion of thunder, and the rain poured down, blinding them.
"Look out!" Alan yelled.
A huge tree off to their right swayed. Linley cussed, abandoning his attempts with the machete, and grabbed Alan by one arm. Together they plunged recklessly forward through clinging, thorny underbrush. Kevin followed, Angie in his arms.
The tree fell with a mighty crash, and a limb struck Mark across the back, hurling him flat. He landed hard, Alan beneath him.
"Mark!" A hand was on his shoulder, pulling at him. "Get up!"
Mark shook his head trying to clear it.
"Mark! Dammit, get up! You're squashin' Alan!"
"Huh?" Mark rolled to one side. "Alan? Are you okay? Answer me!”
No reply, but Mark could hear his partner wheezing. Alan didn't move, but one outstretched hand clutched the Lady's brooch. For a moment Mark couldn't imagine how the kid had gotten hold of the thing. Angie had been holding it last he saw, and he sure hadn't seen Alan pick it up when she'd fallen.
There was no time to wonder. Kevin was pulling at him, yelling for him to come on. Mark dragged Alan upright as thunder cracked again, loud enough to shake the ground. Somewhere, not far away, another tree came down. Angela was screaming something which, in the confusion, Mark couldn't understand. He tried to disengage the brooch from Alan's hand, but his partner clutched it tighter. "No. Mark." Linley heard his gasping words with a wave of relief. "No...I'm okay!"
Gripping Alan by one wrist, Mark staggered after his brother. Lightning flickered again and thunder roared.
"In here!" Kevin grabbed his arm and pulled him under a small shelf of rocks and earth -- an overhang from a cliff above. Roots hung downward like tentacles. They were out of the rain and partially shielded from the wind. Two rabbit sized creatures bolted out into the storm as the fugitives arrived. There were indignant squeals and then silence.
"Kid?" Mark sank to the ground and lowered Alan beside him. "You still alive?"
Alan was wheezing and gasping, his dark hair standing wildly on end. His nose was scraped, and mud caked his forehead from hairline to eyebrows, but his eyes were open, meeting Mark's in the dimness.
"Yeah!" It was a breathless gasp. "How's Angie? Was that the same...stuff that I--"
"Yeah." Kevin wasn't looking at him, his attention all for Angela.
Mark turned to look at her, blinking water from his eyes. Kevin had both her wrists behind her, grasped in one mighty hand, but she was twisting frantically in his hold, and screaming Bronson's name. Alan stared, wide-eyed.
"Good grief! Is that what I acted like?"
"You'd better believe it," Mark said feelingly. "Scared me about witless. Talk to her, kid. Try'n calm her down. No doubt she thinks we're all Jils."
Alan crawled over to her. "Angie! Angie, look at me! It's Alan."
She aimed a kick at him. "Get away from me, you big jerk! Kevin, where are you?"
"Baby, I'm right here." Kevin released her wrists and tried to put his arms around her. She recoiled, swinging wildly at him, and rolled nimbly to her feet. Alan grabbed her.
"Angie, It's us. Take it easy!"
She screamed, struggling desperately in his grasp. "Kevin, help me!" She aimed a frantic blow at her cousin, clipping him on one cheek.
Kevin dragged her back down. "Angie, it's okay. Sit still and relax. We ain't gonna hurtcha."
"Oh, sure, I know!” Her voice was scornful. "The Patrol never hurts the pretty girls -- not 'til they're finished with 'em, anyway! Kevin, where are you?"
"I'm here, honey." Bronson sounded more upset than Linley had ever heard him. "Don't talk like that, honey, please!”
She laughed harshly. "Why do you care, 'trol?"
"Kevin?" Alan put a comforting hand on the big man's arm. "Don't feel bad. She doesn't know what she's saying." He turned to Angela again. "Who am I, Angie?"
She glanced at him scathingly. "How should I know? I never could tell you 'trols apart."
Alan concentrated a moment. "She's got her shields up. I can't get through." He glanced at Mark. "How long does this go on?”
"You fought an' raved 'bout twenty minutes, kid. Then you went to sleep, an' when you woke up, you were yourself again -- to everybody's relief."
"I can imagine." Alan turned back to his cousin. "Kevin, why don't you back off and let me try to talk to her. I'm littler, and I don't look so much like a patrolman.”
Kevin gulped. "I don't think it matters, kid. She don't seem to notice the difference. She's just as scared of you as she is of me.”
Alan nodded. "All right." He glanced at Mark. "Whatever the stuff is, it seems to bring out paranoid delusions. I saw Jils -- and the worst experiences of my life were from them -- Salthvor and Tralthvor. Angie sees patrolmen. Did she have a real bad encounter with a patrolman sometime?"
Kevin nodded, rubbing his free hand across his eyes. "Back on Liskell -- when we were caught. Guy by the name o' Fairchild. He tried to assault her, an' I was cuffed to a tree. I couldn't do nothin' 'til she unlocked my restrainers with telekinesis. That's the first time I realized she was linked with me."
Mark raised an eyebrow at his brother. "You never mentioned that in your report."
"Would you've mentioned it?” Kevin asked sharply.
Linley grinned faintly. "I guess not."
Bronson looked back at the girl. "Honey, please --”
She flinched away from him. "Don’t you touch me, 'trol!" Her eyes flicked to the blaster in his holster.
"Watch it!" Alan grabbed for the weapon just as it leaped upward. His hand knocked it to one side, and Mark grabbed it.
"Hold onto her, Kev!" he snapped. "Don't let go of her hands for a second. If she follows Alan's pattern, she should be goin' out soon."
Kevin nodded, holding Angela's wrists gently. "I'm sorry, honey," he said.
She laughed shrilly, twisting in his hold. Bronson didn't let go, and at last she ceased struggling, her head beginning to sag a little. Slowly she slumped sideways against her partner.
Alan moved suddenly, and Mark heard him draw in a sharp breath. "Oh no!"
"The Lady s calling. Halthzor’s agreed to meet their demands. The ransom'll be collected very soon.” He paused, his brow furrowed. “And the Raghiki are talking. They're saying that when they get the ransom, they're going to kill her.” He grimaced. "As slowly and painfully as they can. They're describing it to her." Alan drew in another sharp gasp. "Oh, Mark, this is awful! She's so scared! We've got to go!" He bit his lower lip, starting to stand up. "Oh gosh!”
"Now what? "
"She's reading their minds. When they're finished with her, they’ll send the corpse back to Halthzor, with a note from Mark Linley."
Kevin made a growling sound in his throat. He stood up, lifting Angela to one shoulder. "All this for a damn Jil, who ain't gonna even appreciate it. Let's go."
They went out into the storm again, and Mark began chopping out a path with the machete, swearing impartially at the rain, insects, and thorns. The lightning and thunder, at least, had diminished.
"What time is it?” Kevin inquired breathlessly.
Alan's reply was equally breathless. "1400 hours. Tovala’s got a twenty five hour rotation, so it's a little past noon." There was a ringing slap. "Got him!"
"Whatta place!" Kevin muttered between his teeth. "I can sure see why the Jils didn't want it!"
"Me too," Alan gasped.
An hour went by, and slowly the storm died to a thin drizzle. The sky overhead remained dark, and ominous in appearance.
After twenty minutes more Angela began to stir, moaning softly. Mark paused, glancing back. "How is she?"
"I think she's beginning to come around." Kevin sounded hopeful. "Angie, honey, can you hear me?”
There was a pause. “Kevin?" Angela whispered.
"Yeah, honey. How're you feelin'?"
"Okay...jus’ tired. Did we get away?"
Kevin was grinning with relief. "Yeah, baby, we got away."
"Thas...good." She sighed, snuggling close to him. "I didn’ talk, did I?"
Kevin gulped and bent to kiss her forehead. "Hell, no, baby. You didn't tell 'em nothin'."
She smiled faintly, eyes closed.
**********
Another twenty minutes went by before she stirred again. Alan was getting scared. The Jilectan was frightened -- very frightened, and the Raghiki were still talking to her, describing her demise in gruesome detail. He was picking it all directly from her terrified mind, and the link grew stronger the more frightened she became. Alan was beginning to sense something strange about the Lady’s mind now, but thought it was possible that he was imagining things.
The shrubbery was thinning somewhat, and they moved faster as the minutes went by. Angie moaned, then gave a sharp cry. Mark paused. "Well, Kev?"
"Angie,” said Kevin. "Wake up, honey."
Her eyes opened at once. "Kevin?"
“Hi, baby. How're you feelin’?"
"Sort of tired. What happened?"
"Same thing that happened to Alan. Take it easy. You're gonna be okay."
"You mean, I kicked a tulip, too?"
"Right. Lie still.”
"I can walk, Kevin."
"In a little while. Right now you let me tote you along." He nodded to Mark, grinning with relief. "Let’s go."
Mark turned wearily back to his task.
Two hours later they were staggering, all but exhausted. The clouds were breaking up, and steam rose from the foliage around them. The heat was intense, and Alan's chest felt tight and smothery, His legs trembled beneath him, and sweat ran into his eyes, making them burn. Mark walked ahead, and Angela was clinging to Kevin's arm. Moth-like insects whined enthusiastically around them.
Mark's toe struck something and be stumbled falling forward, the machete spinning away. There was a hollow popping sound and the air filled with the now familiar white vapor.
**********
tbc
