Before leaving the Starport, Hankura also bought two coveralls for Michelle to wear on the ship. She went right into a change room and donned one of the new outfits. She shoved the ragged overalls she'd been wearing into a refuse tube and carried the second garment folded under her arm.
Hankura and Michelle took the subway back to the area where they had left the hovercraft. Not long after they left the subway, Hankura began to sense that they were being watched. As he let his mind drift, he learned that Berke's men were indeed watching them.
They were still a hundred meters from the hovercraft. He hoped they could make it there before any of Berke's thugs could catch them. Maybe he and Michelle could hole up until dark and leave the city then.
This section of the city was mostly rubble of ancient buildings. The streets were strewn with rubbish and human wastes, and they were infested with rats and roaches. Even the destruction caused by the Procyon Wars could rid the world of vermin.
A hundred meters from the warehouse, Berke's men began trailing them from a hovercraft. It landed nearby as they fled into an alley for shelter.
Two men climbed out of the craft and followed them on foot, firing laser blasts after them. It looked as if Hankura and Michelle would escape until she fell over a pile of rusting metal. Hankura turned to defend them while she scrambled to her feet.
One man fell to the Aledan's mind barrage, but the other the other was a Tregan---immune to such a tactics. In the split second, it took Hankura to realize this and draw his laser, a searing beam hit him in the left ribs below the heart. His shot went wild as he fell, and Michelle screamed.
The Tregan flicked a switch on his weapon and leveled it at Michelle. She gasped as the blast stunned her, and she crumpled to the ground beside Hankura.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Father, won't you come to the concert with us?" Capra prodded. "You'll miss their last performance in Salla."
"No. thank you, dear," he said quietly. "I want to be here in case we hear something from Hankura."
"It'll probably be that he's been delayed again. I'm beginning to wonder if he's coming home at all."
"He'll come! He promised."
Capra shrugged, shaking out the layers of fabric in her loosely draped gown. "I hope he does for your sake. But, I hardly remember him. I don't know what to expect. He'll know what I feel and think when I can only guess about him."
"I'm sure if you give him a chance, he'll let you get to know him. He is your brother, and this is his home, too."
"But, he's an unconditioned psion. Aren't they dangerous?"
"That's what we've always been told, but your mother wouldn't let them take Hankura to the Psi Institute. We have been, however, assured that he has received most careful training on Velran. I'm sure he's disciplined in the use of his power, and he knows Aledan law. He would never hurt us."
"Well, I don't envy him coming home after the last psi attack in Salla." Capra shook her head musingly, jiggling the mass of tight, brown curls that capped her head. Six people had been traumatized irreversibly, and the Psion was placed in stasis indefinitely because reprogramming just didn't work.
Ludren nodded. "Hankura will suffer now because of the damage done by one confused psion. Since that happened, the Medical Center has demanded a psych profile on him before they'll give him the staff position they offered. He won't like that. They're treating like a criminal."
"I know." Capra shook her head.
"That's why we have to make him welcome here. He'll have enough problems without our adding to them."
"I'll try," she replied in earnest. "After all, he is my brother."
"You'll do more than try, young lady," Natar ordered as she strolled into the sitting room. She had perceived the entire exchange between her husband and daughter from the bed chamber. As she came into the room, she raised her chin proudly, and the emeralds in her hair sparkled. "Hankura has been away too long. Now that he's coming home to stay, you will show him the same consideration that you show your brother Trevin."
"Of course, Mother." Capra acquiesced.
"Natar, you must remember that he may not stay.” Ludren injected. "We've discussed this before. Twenty years is a long time, and things have gotten worse since he left. Be grateful that we will at least see him again."
"He will stay," Natar insisted stubbornly. "I know he will. This is where he belongs. I will never forgive any of you if you drive him away. He is no more dangerous than I am."
"Don't worry, Mother. We'll make him welcome." Capra humored her. "Are you ready?"
"Do I look ready?" Natar turned for them both to see how the layers of her delicate green gown flattered her rounded figure. The neckline plunged low to reveal the valley between her ample breasts. In that vee hung a large emerald in an ornate gold setting.
"I'll say!" Capra grinned. "You look wonderful, Mother."
"What do you think, darling?" Natar turned to her husband.
"Lovely." I think I'd like to have you all to myself this evening. His eyes flickered with appreciation. He put his arms around her and drew her close to kiss her cheek. "The gown certainly becomes you."
If you don't retire until I come home, you will have me all to yourself. Her eyes softened with affection as she smiled up at him.
Pray that I never grow that old. He grinned and held his thought for her to seek it in his mind. "Enjoy yourselves. I'll record any news of Hankura to share with you."
Ludren watched them walk out into the garden where they stepped into the hovercraft that was waiting for them there. When they closed the hatch behind them, he closed the portal and walked back to the lavishly furnished sitting room. He sat on a recliner and pressed two buttons. Thus summoned, a small white autocart arrived at his side, bearing a frosty glass of yash, a kind of wine made from blue yarrel flowers that were grown in abundance on Aledus.
The touch of another button turned on the cube in the console at his left. He leaned back to sip his drink while exotic tone patterns filled the domed dwelling with symphonic poetry. As he listened to the music, he shook his dark head worriedly.
Why wouldn't Natar acknowledge his warning? Hankura never promised to stay. Ludren doubted Hankura would stay long once he realized the effect of the changes in government policy toward unconditioned psions. Maybe he should have released Hankura from his promise to come back. It would be easier for Natar if he didn't come at all than if he came back to Aledus and left again.
But twenty years was a long time for a man to miss his son.
Michelle was gone by the time Hankura drifted back to consciousness. He was first aware of her absence and then of the burning pain in his side. He was alone in the dirty alley except for the rats. They crept closer and closer, sniffing at him. They could smell his blood, and Hankura smelled it, too. They smelled food, but he wasn't food for them yet.
He cringed with revulsion as they crept closer, willing them to stop long enough for his hand to close around the laser that had fallen in the rubble beside him. The creatures fled in all directions as his blind lust for life seared through their tiny minds. He sent a laser beam searing through three of the nearest creatures that failed to escape. Then, blackness enveloped his mind, taking him back through time to the beginning and another memory invaded by those great, beady-eyed rats of the sewers; back to the time when Michelle first reached out to touch his mind.
She-ell, Chelle, Chelle . . .. His mind drifted, aching for, seeking the touch of her thoughts. Hankura's eyes opened again sometime later. The sun was shining into his face. He lay there for a while, staring into the bright blue sky, and watched puffy, white clouds floating past his line of vision above the tattered ruins.
Now, watching the clouds drift and letting his mind drift, he grew certain that Chelle--Michelle wasn't dead. He couldn't know where she was or in what condition, only that her life's essence had not been snuffed out.
Somehow, he had to find the strength to drag himself from this filthy alley. Only 200 meters to
go, and he could get his medkit from their gear in the hovercraft. If he could just get up.
Already, breathing was agony, and he needed drugs to speed healing before he accidentally broke the cauterizing effect of the laser beam completely. His movements had already started his wound bleeding, and he knew he was in trouble.
Clutching his side with his hand, he struggled to a sitting position. He holstered the laser, then willed his muscles to stand him on his feet. So far, so good. At least he could stand, but his head swam with the effort. Each step through the stinking clutter was a major accomplishment. The smell irritated his already burning lung even more.
Hankura made slow progress along the chipped, concrete wall, balancing himself against the wall with one hand and clutching his painful wound with the other. The street and the buildings ahead of him swam crazily in his vision as his breathing became more labored.
He looked down at his wound. Despite the care he'd taken, blood had started to trickle a little faster between his fingers. The red stain began to spread wider over the front of his pale, green shirt. In the next alley, he found a vaguely familiar sheltered place under an old concrete stairway. It was the place where Michelle had hidden, waiting for her brother, that night when she first reached out to touch his mind. It was her memory that gave him that sense of déjà vu. He knew he wouldn't make it to the warehouse alone, and there was no one trustworthy nearby whom he could summon for help. Here was a place he could rest.
With the stairway in sight, Hankura moved along the side of still another building. He stumbled the last few steps and fell into this wretched haven with a groan of pain. The scurrying along the concrete around him reminded him that he wasn't there alone. The rats would finish him off if he let them, but he wouldn't let them. He still had too much to live for.
Pain racked his body, radiating from the bleeding wound, and Hankura remained conscious by an effort of will. He stared up at the sky again, breathing with shallow breaths to keep from aggravating the wound.
The sky was now streaked with pink and lavender, and soon the first evening stars would be visible. Aledus was out there, too---millions of miles away. He wondered: Will I live to see it again? Sweet Mother, I don't want to die here alone in this awful place. Ah, Chelle---two days is not enough. I want more. Mother of Life, I want more!
Hankura leaned his head back and let out a sigh. Closing his eyes, he drew a shallow breath and let his mind drift again.
Chelle was unconscious. If he probed deeply enough, perhaps he could coax her back to consciousness and call her to his side.
The bleeding had slowed a little, but not enough. He was slowly drowning in his own blood. Now Chelle was his only hope for survival---and a slim one at that . . ..
The Aledan sun was a shining blue ball on the eastern horizon as Ludren stared pensively out over the huge agro complex that belonged to him and his family. He looked out over nearly 100,000 hectares of yarrel and various staple food crops grown on Aledus. Yarrel was the most exotic, its exquisite blue-green flowers were grown for making a unique Wholaskan wine. Aledus was the one other world in seven sectors of the galaxy that could sustain the flowering plants. The other crops were grown for domestic use and were sold in the cities. The yarrel was shipped to Wholaska to be made into wine which was shipped throughout all seven Federation sectors. This arrangement had proved quite profitable for dozens of Aledan agriculturists. It allowed Ludren and his family to live in luxury in the natural surroundings of this isolated agro complex 400 kilometers from the nearest city.
In the quiet hour after dawn Ludren walked alone in the ornate garden in front of his white, domed dwelling. As he walked slowly toward the pond outside his front window, he watched lavender, reptilian ropans diving for tiny fish under the water's surface. He paused to watch them for a time then turned back to look at his crops again. By then, they were being sprayed with a thick white mist.
The lush blue-green yarrel blossoms bobbed back and forth on tall green stems under the nourishing mist. The crops on the complex were tended by automated machinery controlled by a central microcomputer under the main dome. Even so, Ludren made a personal inspection every day.
He walked on through the garden, taking in the various scents and watching tiny white gresar monkeys playing tag under round, yellow-orange bushes that dotted the grounds. Their color contrasted with the thick mat of brown moss that grew around them. There were few native kinds of grass on Aledus, so this brown moss served as a lawn. Some Terran type trees had been imported as seeds when the Aledan colony was young, but most of the trees were red-needled conifers that whispered eerily in the breezes that played across the warm, temperate regions of these fertile Aledan plains.
As Ludren made his way to the rise just past the pond, his gaze fell on the new landing pad across the 200 meters of open ground in front of him. Another week had passed and still no word from Hankura. Ludren was desperately worried, not knowing whether his son was dead or alive.
The last relay message from Hankura came as he was about to put down on the ruin of Earth, a barbaric hellhole that claimed the dregs of humanity. That relay was the first contact from Hankura since his leaving Velran almost two standard months ago. Now, it would be at least another two months before they would see him if he got off Earth at all.
Despite his eagerness to see his son, the prospect also made Ludren uneasy. He wondered just what kind of man this son of his would be, if and when he arrived. An image on a telecom screen at regular intervals throughout Hankura's childhood was a poor substitute for an intimate parent-child relationship. Would Hankura harbor the bitterness he'd expressed when they had sent him away?
The Velran authorities had sent word of young Hankura's safe arrival those many years ago, but their son had not contacted them until six standard months later. It was his way of punishing them for rejecting him. When he did finally contact them, he was stiffly formal and coldly polite throughout the communique.
Hankura didn't fully understand why he'd been sent to Velran until nearly three years later. By then he'd long since stopped showing animosity during their telecom exchanges. But his real feelings could have easily been disguised over such a distance through time and space.
Ludren pined for his son. He needed to see him in person again to make him understand that they loved him as they loved his brother Trevin and his sister Capra---to make Hankura believe that they had done what was best for him.
Natar had made Ludren swear long before Hankura was born that none of their children would suffer as she had as a child. He had kept his promise even though carrying it out had nearly broken his heart. Now, he just wanted his eldest son to come home again
She-ell---my Chelle, wake up. I need your help. My life ebbs. . . Help me . . ..
Hankura's desperate summons echoed through her mind again and again. It began as a vague little nagging and grew until her mind began to struggle for conscious awareness. Michelle's eyes opened suddenly at the realization that she wasn't dreaming. Berke's men had found her and shot Hankura because they wanted his ship.
And Berke wanted her.
She cringed at the thought and flicked her gaze over her surroundings. Berke's private den. She began to tremble.
Berke was no worse and no better than any of the other overlords in the Noamerik Territories. He held more power than most---more than the official Enforcers. None of them dared to oppose him. Michelle had dared, and it had cost her a brother. She had barely escaped with her life. Now, Berke held her captive while Hankura lay dying.
She wept silently at his growing despair and longing for her. She didn't know how she could help him as she perceived the extent of his wound. He was the physician, and she was just an illiterate street fem. How could she help?
It didn't matter. Even if there was no way to save him, she had to go to him if only to comfort him before he died. Michelle sat up on the couch where she was laying, and Berke came into the den. He approached, then stopped to study her intimat
ely. A sneer twisted his lips as his eyes rested on her face.
"Ah, still as lovely as ever, my Michelle. If you thought we were finished, you were mistaken."
He moved closer, and she tensed. Berke was a big man with sandy hair, considered attractive by most. Michelle had even liked him once before she discovered his mean streak. He'd treated her like a pretty toy. As he came closer, she sensed he was ready to use her for his games again.
"Berke, it's finished. What more do you want?" she tried to reason with him. "I belong with Hankura now; let me go to him."
"You'd rather be with a dead man? That's interesting---and I can arrange it if you like. You can spend eternity with him. But first . . .." He leaned over and reached for her.
"No! Hankura isn't dead. I know he isn't." she muttered. As he grabbed her, she savagely raked his face with her fingernails. "I have to go to him. He needs me!"
Berke growled in pain and slapped her across the face. Michelle staggered but managed to keep her footing by sheer determination. Jerry had taught her early in life that there were no fair fights in the back alleys of Farringay. You just survived the good ones.
The Overlord thought he was fit, but he was soft from too much easy living. He was stronger and outweighed her, but he hadn't the ability to dodge her blows and return them. When Michelle finally downed him, two thugs appeared. Berke had reached his signal button when he fell.
"No!" Michelle screamed with the fury of a cornered animal. Damn you, Berke! If could just reach my dagger . . ..
Both the knife and her belt had been removed while she was unconscious. Without even looking, she knew instinctively it wasn't there. She visualized it in her mind and thought about how it felt in her hand. How she wanted that weapon! So, intense was her desire for it, that she started when it slapped into the palm of her hand. Magic? She wondered for a split second. It didn't matter. She didn't have time to think about how or why.
The Aledan PSION: The Aledan Series Book 1 Page 4