The remaining slab went against a wall. Peering through the dark, Kolki Ming made final adjustments. She paused then, stepped back. Her face turned toward Telzey.
“We weren’t able to test this one,” she whispered. “When I close the last switch, it will trigger alarms—here, in an adjoining guarded section, and in the control area. Be ready!”
Her left hand reached out to the slab. Sound blared in the darkness about them, and Kolki Ming had vanished through the portal. Telzey followed at once.
The two Sattarams on guard had no chance. Kolki Ming had emerged from the wall behind them, gun blazing. By then, there were guns in their hands, too; but they died before they saw her. She ran past the bodies toward the technicians at the instrument banks, shouting Elaigar orders above the clanging alarm din in the air. The technicians didn’t hesitate. For a moment, there was a wild scramble of variously shaped bodies at an exit at the far end of the big room. Then the last of them disappeared.
Kolki Ming was at the instrument stands, gun back in its holster, hands flicking about. Series of buttons stabbed down. Two massive switches above her swung over, snapped shut. The alarm signal ended.
In the sudden silence, she looked at Telzey who had followed her across the room.
“And now,” she said, drawing a deep breath, “it’s done! Every section in the circuit has been sealed. No portal can open until it’s released from this room. Wherever the Elaigar were a moment ago, there they’ll stay.” She smiled without mirth. “How they’ll rage! But not for long. Now I’ll reset the Vingarran, and the Gate will open and my people will come through to remove our captives from section after section, and take them and their servants to our transports.”
She went to another instrument console, unlocked it, bent over it. Telzey stood watching. The Alatta’s hand moved to a group of controls, hesitated. She frowned. The hand shifted uncertainly.
Kolki Ming stiffened. Her hand jerked toward the gun at her belt. The motion wasn’t completed.
She straightened then, turned to stare at Telzey. And Telzey felt the Alatta’s mind turning also, wonderingly, incredulously, seeking a way to escape the intangible web of holds that had fastened on it, and realizing there was no way—that it was unable now even to understand how it was held.
“You?” Kolki Ming said heavily at last. “How could—”
“When you killed Stiltik.”
A mind blazingly open, telepathically vulnerable, powers and attention wholly committed. Only for instants; but in those instants, Telzey, waiting and watching, had flowed inside.
“I sensed nothing.” Kolki Ming shook her head. “Of course—that was the first awareness you blocked.”
“Yes,” Telzey said. “It was. I had plenty of time afterwards for the rest of it.”
“And now?”
“Now we’re going to a planetary exit.” Telzey touched a point in the captive mind. “That hidden one you people installed . . . Set up a route through empty sections, and unseal that series of portals.”
The planetary exit portal opened on an enclosed courtyard. Four aircars stood in a row along one wall. Telzey paused at the exit beside Kolki Ming, looking around. It appeared to be early morning in that part of Tinokti. They were on the fringes of a city; buildings stretched away in the distance.
She glanced down at herself. She’d washed hands, face and hair on the way, but hadn’t been able to get her clothing clean. It didn’t show; she’d fastened a wide shawl of bright-colored fabric around herself, a strip they’d cut from tapestry in one of the circuit sections. It concealed the blood and dirt stains on her clothes and the Elaigar knife at her belt.
She adjusted the shawl, looked up at the immensely formidable creature beside her. The Alatta’s eyes returned her gaze without expression. Telzey started forward toward the cars. Koki Ming stayed where she was. Telzey climbed into the nearest of the cars, checked the controls. The interior was designed to Sparan proportions; otherwise this was standard equipment. She could handle it. She unlocked the engine, turned it on. A red alert light appeared, then faded as the invisible energy field above the court dissolved to let her through.
She swung the car about, lifted it from the ground, moved up out of the court. Two hundred yards away, she spun the viewscreen dial to focus on the motionless Figure by the portal. The car drove up and on in a straight line. When the figure began to dwindle in the screen, Telzey abruptly withdrew her holds from Kolki Ming’s mind, slammed her own shield tight, remembering their lightning reflexes.
But nothing happened. Kolki Ming remained where she was for a moment, seemed to be looking after her. Then she turned aside, disappeared through the portal.
Five minutes later, Telzey brought the car down in a public parking area, left it there with locked engine and doors. The entrance to a general transportation circuit fronted on the parking space. She went inside, oriented herself on the circuit maps, and set out. Not long afterwards, she exited near a large freight spaceport.
XIV
The freight port adjoined a rundown city area with a population which lived in the main on Tongi Phon handouts. It had few attractions and an oversupply of predators. Otherwise, it was a good place for somebody who wanted to drop out of sight.
Telzey let a thoroughly vicious pair of predators, one of them a young woman of about her size, trail her along the main streets for a while. They were uncomplicated mentalities, readily accessible. She turned at last into a narrow alley, and when they caught up with her there, they were her robots. She exchanged street clothes with the woman in a deserted backyard, left the alley with the Elaigar knife wrapped in a cloth she’d taken from a trash pile. The two went on in the opposite direction, the woman carrying the folded length of tapestry she’d coveted. Their minds had been provided with a grim but plausible account of how she’d come by it and the blood-stained expensive clothing she now wore.
Telzey stopped at a nearby store she’d learned about from them. The store paid cash for anything salable; and when she left it a few minutes later, it had the Elaigar knife and she had a pocketful of Tinokti coins. It wasn’t much money but enough for her immediate needs. An hour later, she’d rented a room above a small store for a week, locked the door, and unpacked the few items she’d picked up. One of them was a recorder. She turned it on, stretched out on the narrow bed.
It was high time. Part of her mind had been called upon to do more than was healthy for it in these hours, and it was now under noticeable strain. There were flickerings of distorted thought, emotional surges, impulses born in other minds and reproduced in her own. She’d been keeping it under control because she had to. Tolant and Tanven, Elaigar and Alatta, Thrakell Dees—Phon Dees once, a lord of the circuit, and, in the end, its last human survivor—they’d all been packed in under her recent personal experiences which were crammed and jolting enough. She’d lived something of the life of each in their memories, and she had to get untangled from that before there were permanent effects.
She let the stream of borrowed impressions start boiling through into consciousness, sorting them over as they came, drained off emotional poisons. Now and then, she spoke into the recorder. That was for the Psychology Service; there were things they should know. Other things might be useful for her to remember privately. They went back now into mental storage, turned into neat, neutral facts—knowledge. Much of the rest was valueless, had been picked up incidentally. It could be sponged from her mind at once, and was, became nonexistent.
The process continued; pressures began to reduce. The first two days she had nightmares when she slept, felt depressed while awake. Then her mood lightened. She ate when hungry, exercised when she felt like it, went on putting her mental house back in order. By the sixth day, as recorded by the little calendar watch she’d bought, she was done. Her experiences with the Elaigar, from the first contact in Melna Park on, were put in perspective, had become a thing of the past, no longer to concern her.
Back to normal . . .
<
br /> She spent the last few hours of the day working over her report to the Psychology Service, and had her first night of unbroken sleep in a week. Early next morning, she slipped the recorder into her pocket, unlocked the door, went whistling softly down to the store. The storekeeper, who had just opened up, gave her a puzzled look and scratched his chin. He was wondering how it could have completely slipped his mind all week that he had a renter upstairs. Telzey smiled amiably at him, went out into the street. He stared after her a moment, then turned away and forgot the renter again, this time for good.
Telzey walked on half a block, relaxed her screens and sent an identification thought to her Service contacts. A Service squad was there four minutes later to pick her up.
“There’s somebody else,” Klayung told her eventually, “who’d like to speak to you about your report.”
This was two days later, and they were in a Service ship standing off Tinokti.
“Who is it this time?” Telzey inquired warily. She’d had a number of talks with Klayung and a few other Service people about her experiences in the Elaigar circuit. Within limits, she hadn’t minded giving them more detailed information than the report provided, but she was beginning to feel that for the moment she’d been pumped enough.
“He’s a ranking official of a department which had a supporting role in the operation,” Klayung said. “For security reasons, he doesn’t want his identity to be known.”
“I see. What about my identity?” Klayung had been very careful to keep Telzey unidentified so far. The role she’d played on Tinokti was known, in varying degrees, only to a few dozen members of the Service, to Neto Nayne-Mel who was at present in Service therapy, and to the Alattas, who no longer mattered.
“We’ll have you well camouflaged during the discussion,” Klayung said. “You’ll talk by viewscreen.”
“I suppose he isn’t satisfied with the report?” Telzey said.
“No. He feels it doesn’t go far enough and suspects you’re holding things back deliberately. He’s also unhappy about your timing.”
She considered. It made no difference now. “He doesn’t know about the part with Neto, does he?”
“No. Except for you and the therapists and a few others like myself, there was no Neto Nayne-Mel in the circuit.”
“Shall I be frank with him otherwise?”
“Within reason,” said Klayung.
She found herself sitting shortly before a viewscreen, with Klayung in the room behind her. The official at the other screen wore a full face mask. He might as well have left it off. She knew who he was as soon as he started to speak. They’d met on Orado.
She wasn’t wearing a mask. Klayung’s make-up people had put in half an hour preparing her for the meeting. What the official saw and heard was an undersized middle-aged man with a twang to his voice.
The discussion began on a polite if cool note. Telzey was informed that the circuit she’d described had been located that morning. The force fields about the individual sections had all cut off simultaneously. After an entry into one of the sections was effected, it was discovered there was no need for the special portal keys with which she’d provided the Service. The entire system was now as open as any general circuit on Tinokti. Exploration remained cautious until it became obvious that the portal traps of which she’d spoken had been destructured. Nor was anything left which might have provided a clue to the device referred to in the report as the Vingarran Gate. “And, needless to say,” said the official, “no one was found in the circuit.”
Telzey nodded. “They’ve been gone for a week now. They set the force fields to shut off after it was safe, so you could stop looking for them.”
“Meanwhile,” the official went on, “we’ve had verification enough for your statement that groups of these aliens, both the Alattas and the Elaigar, were masquerading as human giants throughout the Federation. They’ve even owned considerable property. One well-known shipping line ostensibly was bought up by a Sparan organization three years ago and thereafter operated exclusively by Sparans. We know now that’s not what they were. All these groups have vanished. Every positive lead we’ve traced reveals the same story. They disappeared within less than a standard day of one another, leaving nothing behind to indicate where they came from or where they’ve gone.”
“That was the Alatta plan,” Telzey acknowledged. “They wanted it to be a fast, clean, complete break.”
“It seems,” the official said, “you had this information in your possession a week before you chose to reveal it. I’m wondering, of course, what made you assume the responsibility of allowing the aliens to escape.”
“For one thing, there wasn’t much time,” Telzey said. “If the Alatta operation was delayed, the situation would change—they wouldn’t be able to carry out their plan as they’d intended. For another, I wasn’t sure everyone here would understand what the situation was. I wanted them to be out of the Hub with the Elaigar before somebody made the wrong decision.”
“And what makes you sure you made the right one?” the official demanded. “You may have saved us trouble at the moment while setting us up for much more serious trouble in the future.”
She shook her head.
“They’re not coming back,” she said. “If they did, we’d spot them, now that we know about them. But the Elaigar won’t be able to come back, and the Alattas don’t want to. They think it will be better if there’s no further contact at all between them and the Federation for a good long time to come.”
“How do you know?”
“I looked through the mind of one of them,” Telzey said. “That was one of the things I had to know, of course.”
The official regarded her a moment.
“In looking through that Alatta’s mind, you must have picked up some impression of their galactic location . . .”
“No, I didn’t.” Telzey said. “I was careful not to. I didn’t want to know that.”
“Why not?” There was an edge of exasperation to his voice.
“Because I think it will be much better if there’s no further contact between us for a long, long time—from either side.”
The face mask shifted slightly, turning in Klayung’s direction.
“Dr. Klayung,” said the official, “with all the devices at the Service’s disposal, there must be some way of determining whether this man has told us the full truth!”
Klayung scratched his chin.
“Knowing him as I do,” he said, “I’m sure that if he felt he might be forced to reveal something he didn’t wish to reveal, he’d simply wipe the matter from his mind. And we’d get nothing. So we might as well accept his statement. The Service is quite willing to do it.”
“In that case,” the official said, “there seems to be no point in continuing this talk.”
“I had the impression.” Klayung remarked, as he left the communication room with Telzey, “that you knew who he was.”
Telzey nodded. “I do. Ramadoon. How’d he get involved in this? I thought he was only a Council Deputy.”
“He fills a number of roles, depending on circumstances,” Klayung told her. “A valuable man. Excellent organizer, highly intelligent, with a total loyalty to the Federation.”
“And very stubborn,” Telzey added. “I think he plans to put in a lot of effort now to get that psi in the Tinokti circuit identified.”
“No doubt,” said Klayung. “But it won’t be long before that slips from his mind again.”
“It will? Well, good! Then I won’t have to worry about it. I can see why he might feel I’ve put the Federation at a disadvantage.”
“Haven’t you?”
“You didn’t believe I don’t know where the Alatta territories are, did you?”
“No,” Klayung said. “We assumed you’d bring up that subject eventually.”
“Well, I’m telling the Service, of course. But I thought we’d wait until things settle down again all around. I got a good general impres
sion, but it will take mapping specialists and plenty of time to pinpoint it. They must be way off our charts. And that.” Telzey added, “technically will put the Alattas at a disadvantage.
“I’m not sure I follow you,” Klayung said.
“The way the Alattas have worked it out, the human psis of the time, and especially the variations in them, had a good deal to do with defeating the Elaigar at Nalakia.”
“Hm-m-m!” Klayung rubbed his jaw. “We’ve no record of that—but there would be none on our side, of course. An interesting speculation!”
“They don’t think it’s speculation. They’re all psis, but they’re all the same general kind of psi. They’re born that way; it’s part of the mutation. They don’t change. They know we vary a lot and that we do change. That’s why they wanted to take me along and analyze me. I’m pretty close to the Elaigar type of psi myself at present, but they figured there was more to it than that.”
“Well,” Klayung said, “you may have proved the point to their satisfaction now. The disadvantage, incidentally, will remain a technical one. The Service also feels contacts between the Federation and the Alattas would be quite undesirable in any foreseeable future.”
They were passing a reflecting bulkhead as he spoke, and Telzey caught a sudden glimpse of herself. The middle-aged little man in the bulkhead grimaced distastefully at her. Her gaze shifted to a big wall clock at the end of the passageway, showing Tongi Phon and standard time and dates.
She calculated a moment. “Klayung,” she said, “does the Service owe me a favor?”
Klayung’s expression became a trifle cautious. “Why, I’d say we’re under considerable obligation to you. What favor did you have in mind?”
“Will you have Makeup turn me back like I was right away?”
“Of course. And?”
“Can you put me on a ship that’s fast though to get me to Orado City this evening, local time?”
Klayung glanced at the clock, calculated briefly in turn.
Complete Short Fiction (Jerry eBooks) Page 244