by Jean Kilczer
“Damn electrical system again. I'm holding that rig together with spit an' a prayer.” What the hell…? he thought.
“He's watching you,” Joe said casually, between bites.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered. “He knows.”
He's that telepath, I caught the tag's thought. Then he said it aloud to his friends.
I opened my eyes. The three of them had turned to stare at me.
“You carrying your stingler?” Joe took a sip of coffee.
“I left it in the parked hovair. They're truck drivers, Joe.”
“Maybe.” He let out a breath and continued eating. “How come he knew what you were up to?”
“I still have trouble probing minds that are sensitive to telepathy without them knowing it. Sensitives.” I nodded. “I guess I haven't learned the fine art of focusing.”
“I could've told you that.”
“Thanks for your support.”
The three tags stood up.
Joe slid out his weapon, a stingler, and tucked it next to him on the seat.
I tensed, ready for whatever.
But they just strode out of the restaurant.
The waitress came out from the back room with a tray of food. Wait!” she called.
The last tag slammed the door behind himself.
“What happened?” she asked me. “I was bringing them their orders.”
I shrugged. “I think they had an argument.”
“Oh.” She tossed back her hair and winked at me again.
I winked back.
And just that fast, things returned to normal.
I let out a breath. “When's the shuttle due to pick us up, Joe?”
He checked his watch. “In about three hours' time. Interstel's starship is already orbiting Halcyon.”
I sat back. Dark energy. Scientists knew very little about it. Still, they had harnessed it to manipulate space-time and get starships to their destinations inside bubbles. But as a means to burn up Earth? I shook my head. I purposely didn't ask Joe if my former wife Althea and his wife Abby were also off Earth. He was right. The less information I carried around, the better. The Fourth of July… “What's today's date, Earth time?”
“By the Gregorian calendar, April 24th.” He checked his watch. “You want Earth time of day?”
“No. That's close enough. If we fail in this mission, will the Worlds Bank hand over the depository to this slime?”
Joe squinted at me. “You never cared two creds for the things money can buy. Do you know what would happen to the Worlds Trade Centers on all of Earth's dependent colonies, and the free worlds, and the alien planets, if they found out there was no gold to back Earth's money?”
I shook my head.
“I didn't think so.”
“There's no gold? Well, if no one knew that their creds weren't backed by gold – “
“That's the best kept secret in the Worlds' Government on planet Alpha.” His grim expression scared me more than the threat to Earth.
“What is?”
“The financial systems are no longer backed by gold at Alpha's depository. Haven't been since the Twelve-Year-War with the BEMS. Before your time.”
“I've read the history books. Before your time, too.”
We called them BEMS for bug-eyed-monsters, because the human tongue couldn't pronounce the real name of this highly technological, highly expansive race of beings with the largest eyes in the known star systems. BEMS reproduced like the proverbial rabbits and had run out of resources on their home world. The war had reduced them to a pre-technological level. Their reproductive habits reduced them even further down the technological rungs.
I heard laughter and realized it was the women at the far table. The children were fidgeting.
“But the depository is a fortified vault building,” I said. “Christlotus, it's supposed to be impenetrable!”
“Yeah, and Titanic couldn't sink.”
“What's Titanic?”
“Before your time, kid. There's a big hole in the ground where the depository used to be. Blown to smithereens and hell. We still don't know the technology behind the weapon the BEMS used. They destroyed it themselves when the Alliance Forces invaded Kybrargrothga…Kybrargreatka – Ah, whatever the hell. Their home world.” He put down his fork. “Now I'm not hungry, either.”
“What about Earth's Federal Reserve banks? They've got more gold bullion than the Worlds Depository…had. Don't they?”
“That's old history, kid. The reserve banks are spread out across the colonies now, the free planets, and even some friendly alien nations for safe keeping, if you'll pardon the pun. We learned our lesson with the Alpha/BEMS disaster.
“But we don't have any enemies.”
“Today's friends are tomorrow's enemies.”
“From the look on your face, I get the feeling that Worlds Coalition doesn't want to hand over their gold just to save ole Earth.”
“Their patriotism is to their own home worlds now. Most of the populations were born on their respective planets and have never visited Earth.”
The waitress brought out Joe's slice of pie and set it before him. I kept my gaze down. I was getting tired of winking back at her.
Joe took a bite. When the waitress had returned to the kitchen, he stopped chewing. “It's like the United States giving up its financial basis and plunging into chaos to save England.”
“So a couple of disgruntled, greedy slimetrolls can hold all of Earth hostage? That's hard to believe.”
“Read your history books. They're full of dictators and rogue militia who ordered the torture and death of millions or started wars that killed millions.”
The women were taking out their credcards.
Joe stared at the children. They had finished eating and were playing with restaurant-supplied toys. “Sometimes I think human life is the cheapest commodity of all.”
“I guess. Cheaper than gold.”
The women punched their bill into the table check-out unit. They gathered their children and headed for the door. A toddler cried because he couldn't take the restaurant toy with him. A woman scooped him up and carried him outside while he pummeled her shoulder with tiny fists.
Had things gone differently, Willa might have been among these women, and someday with children of our own.
Joe checked his watch. “We should get down to the spaceport. I want that shuttle fine-toothed-combed before we board.”
And so it begins, I thought. Check out your room for bugs, your vehicle for explosives, your food for poison. And don't talk to strangers. In fact, don't go near strangers, especially if they're carrying umbrellas on a sunny day.
Joe read me like an open book. “They don't want you dead. They want to use your telepathic powers to find out how W-CIA intends to address Rowdinth's demands.”
I thought of the Dream Czar and his plans to use me and Lisa as a defense against RECOIL, the revolutionaries who fought the Czar when Laurel's police force was in his pocket. Willa had belonged to the rebel group.
“They're not the first ones, Joe.”
“C'mon.” He put away his call unit and holstered his stingler. “Let's go.”
“I'll pay for it,” I said.
He nodded. “Next one's on me.”
I punched my cred code into the unit and followed him toward the front door.
The waitress came out from the kitchen and hurried toward us. “Was everything OK?” She smiled shyly at me.
“Uh, yeah,” I said, “but the asparagus were only half – “
The front door slammed open and the skinny hawk-nosed tag tossed in a small black cylinder that rattled and hissed as it rolled toward my feet, spewing smoke in circles. The tag closed the glass door and leaned against it to hold it shut.
Joe took out his stingler and aimed at him, but I coughed and fell against Joe as I moved away from the smoke.
“Tony!” the waitress screamed.
“Go!” Joe said and pushed me toward t
he back room.
I grabbed the waitress' arm and pulled her along as I ran. Joe followed, but he kept his eyes on the front door, though the tag was gone.
Tony, a short, dark man with a mustache and beard, still held a dishtowel as he ran out from the kitchen. “What's wrong, Gloria?” He stared at the cylinder. “What the hell is that?”
Smoke filled the room.
Gloria swayed and crumbled to her knees.
My vision blurred from whatever was in the acrid haze as I dragged her to her feet and we stumbled into the kitchen. Tony followed. Joe watched our backs as he made his way into the kitchen.
Another cylinder spewed smoke as it rolled through the open pantry door.
Someone outside slammed the door shut.
“Stay away from the door!” Joe warned, “And the window. They're waiting for us to come out.”
Tony kicked aside a chair and yanked open a trap door. “Here!”
The room was doing a slow spin and my knees were shaky as I helped Gloria through the opening. She fell onto the dirt floor below. “Get in, Joe.” I helped him down and followed, then I fell too as my knees gave out.
Tony jumped down, closed the trap door and latched it. “Come on, Gloria!” He pulled her to her feet. “This way,” he whispered to me as they headed down a narrow, dirt tunnel lit only by small glow balls hung from the ceiling.
Footsteps overhead.
“Where the hell did they go?” a muffled voice called.
I drew in deep breaths that held the smell of damp earth and rotted tree roots as I got to my feet, and kept an open palm braced against the crumbly dirt wall as I stepped over strewn fibrin boards. My head began to clear.
Joe kept watch behind our path with his weapon in hand.
“Where does this tunnel lead?” I whispered.
“It branches,” Tony said quietly. “We're going left, to a safe house.”
“Is this a RECOIL tunnel?” I asked.
“They dug it out during the days of the czar,” Gloria said, still out of breath as we moved along uneven ground.
“What does the right branch lead to?” I asked.
“A cavern,” Tony answered.
“Will you tags stop talking!” Joe whispered. “Your voices carry.”
Something small and green and fat skittered across our path on long legs.
Gloria screamed.
“Dammit!” Joe whispered as the sound of footsteps overhead stopped.
“Did you hear that?” a muffled voice above us called.
Gloria put her hand over her mouth.
“Hurry up!” Tony waved us on.
We sloshed through puddles where silver liquid dripped from the walls.
Silver. Spirit's blood!
I paused. Spirit, we need your help.
I know.
It's not my fault this time!
Have you forgotten that if I loose my power, it will destroy all Terrans on my world?
Can't you –
“Jules!” Joe whispered as the trap door was laser-burned “Why in God's name are you stopping?”
“It's Spirit!” I told him. Spirit? I sent. Can't you narrow your power to affect just the three tags?
The three what?
Sentient beings. The cruds chasing us!
Only you can achieve that with your ability. Your time is running out, Terran. The cruds, as you call them, have alerted two more humans who are now approaching from the tunnel's far entrance. Either use your power or surrender. They don't mean to kill you.
“Jules!” Joe said. “Come on.”
“Quiet, Joe.” What about Joe and the others? I sent.
Just you. The others will be sacrificed.
Not an option!
Then use your power. You have done this before.
Not against a sensitive, Spirit.
Increase your tel abilities or surrender. Those are your options.
“Joe,” I said, “there's two more tags coming from the other end of the tunnel. I'm trying for a probe to turn them all back.”
In the dim light, I saw Joe's surprised look. He backed a step, nodded, and remained silent.
“What's he doing?” Gloria said. “We've got to – “
“Be quiet!” Joe told her. “He's a telepath.”
“Good for him,” Tony said. “But that's not going to stop a hot beam. Give me your stingler.” He looked at the dishtowel in his hands and flung it away.
“There's two more coming from the tunnel's other end,” Joe said. “We're outnumbered five stinglers to one. You like those odds? Now flatten against the wall and let Jules do his work.”
I leaned against the clammy wall, closed my eyes and pressed my hands to my temples as the voices of the three tags grew sharp. They were in the tunnel.
“Watch your asses,” one called. “They could be armed. Especially the old coot. He's W-CIA.”
I gathered a coil of tel power. Go back, I sent. Danger ahead. They are armed and ready to kill you if you approach. Go back or die.
My head throbbed with the effort. I squeezed my eyes tighter, gathered all my energy and threw the red coil at the three. Go back or die! They are entrenched and waiting for you. Your heart will be burned out of your chest. You will lie in the mud, twitching in agony and clutching the bloody hole in your chest while your life pours into the mud. Go back. Now!
The footsteps stopped.
My head beat as though a hot drum were being pounded inside my brain, but I still felt the sensitive's resistance. I increased the spin of another coil and threw it. Back to safety. General Rowdinth will understand. The tide has turned against you. It's not your fault.
“I, uh, I think we should go back,” one of the tags said. “I don't think our plan's going to work.”
“Yeah. I agree,” another responded. “The tide's turned against us. These things happen, you know? Uh, what do you think, Tom? I think we should go back.”
I held my breath. Was the third one the sensitive?
“General Rowdinth will understand,” Tom said. “He knows the tide can turn.”
I let out a breath.
But too soon.
I sensed the approach of the two tags from the tunnel's far end. Spirit?
Neither are sensitives, Terran. But both are armed.
Here we go again. My forehead was hot, my cheeks felt flushed, as though with a fever. I took a deep breath and focused on spinning a stronger coil within me. It refused to grow. My brain was rejecting the damaging increase in temperature. I lowered my head and forced my mind to intensify the red coil. Spirit. Can this kill me?
I cannot say how an alien brain responds to the use of the power.
We'll both find out.
I bit my fist against the burn in my head and forced the red coil to grow and spin faster. I tried not to cry out as I pushed it past what I had ever attempted before as I sensed the approach of the two killers. I moaned as I flung it against them.
Go back or die! I sent. I couldn't read what they said to each other, but I felt their sudden fear. The tide is against you. Go back or have your heart burned out of your chest. General Rowdinth will understand. It's not your fault!
A thought from one came dimly as my brain resisted the heat. I'm going home. You can keep my creds from this job, Bailey.
No, wait. Me too. I think the spirits of the RECOIL soldiers we killed here are haunting this graveyard.
Then they were gone.
I felt Joe's strong hand on my arm, bracing me as I slid to my knees. I opened my eyes, but I couldn't see! I looked up to where the ceiling glow balls should have thrown their dim lights, but saw only darkness. “They're gone, all of them,” I muttered. “Oh, God, Joe. I'm blind!” I grabbed his arm with both hands. “My head is burning.”
“Give me your apron!” I heard Joe say. He pulled my hands off his arm.
“Joe!” I cried. Fear ate at my thoughts.
“I'm here, kid.”
I laid down and pressed my head again
st the damp ground for relief.
“What're you doing?” I heard Tony say.
“Making a cold compress,” Joe told him.
I rolled my head against the muddy ground and felt consciousness slipping away.
“Is he dying?” Gloria's voice was choked.
“Be quiet!” Joe ordered. “He doesn't need to hear that.”
Am I dying, Spirit? I sent.
It depends.
Tell Great Mind to let me reincarnate with Willa.
I only ask Great Mind. I never tell The Unity what is the best course to take.
I felt a blessed cold weight being pressed against my head. “Joe?”
“It's a compress, kid. I made it with mud. Now try to relax. You're shaking like a leaf. This should cool down your brain.” I heard the tightness in his voice. “Sleep if you want to.”
“OK.” I groaned and let sleep come…and dreamed I dwelt in crystal seas. I was a male dolphin courting a she-dolphin who I knew was Willa. We swam side by side, and water like silk caressed my body. We dived to coral mansions and swam through arches built of sea fans and crimson fire coral. We swooped to the surface for a breath and watched the sun on the horizon throw orange chips across the velvet table of the sea. It dropped below the surface and stars rushed in to fill the void, as though Great Mind had shattered a lucent dome into a profusion of glimmering diamonds. I dived beneath Willa and turned on my back. She met me and we mated…
I opened my eyes and hoped my dream didn't show as a physical manifestation. I glanced at my groin. No. It hadn't.
And I could see again!
In the light of glow balls overhead I saw Joe. He sat with Tony and Gloria on a stack of rotted boards beside me.
“I can see,” I said.
Joe ran a hand across his forehead. “OK.” He let out a long breath. “How's your head?”
“Better.” I got to my knees.
Joe stood up and helped me to my feet.
“Are they gone?” I glanced down the far tunnel.
“All five of them,” Joe said. “I'd say that's quite a power you've got there.”
Gloria smiled and approached me. “How do you feel, Jules?”
“Not bad.” I rubbed my temples. The burn was gone. “But I could use a shower.”
