Turning Point

by Lisanne Norman

  Skinner stirred, feeling he ought to make a contribution.

  “I can see a couple of problems. Davies won’t be able to watch for Carrie and Kusac returning, and keep an eye out for any Valtegans coming up on the opposite side of the craft. I can’t see that there is any appreciable advantage to be gained by keeping the hatch open. We’ll be in constant communication with the craft. We can warn them in the event of any threat.

  “I also suggest that both Carrie and Kusac wear a wrist comm so they can contact us if they need help.”

  Garras nodded. “Fair enough. If the alarm is sounded, then you and Carrie,” he pointed to Kusac, “make for the main gates and the groundcar. We’ll come in after you.

  “What kind of weapons have you got?” he asked Skinner, sitting up again.

  “We have eleven projectile submachine pistols of our own and three captured Valtegan energy guns,” he replied.

  “We’ve got plenty of ammunition for the pistols, but I don’t know how much of a charge the energy guns have. No one could figure out what made them work in the first place.”

  “Show them to Guynor. He may be able to adapt something from our system. We each have a side arm, and Guynor mentioned rifles in the pod as well as explosives. If you’ve anyone good with explosives, perhaps they can work out some kind of small projectile bombs.

  “Kusac, are you now planning to let Carrie appear to be entering alone?”

  “No, that was just for our little demonstration,” he said.

  Garras nodded. “Right, let’s get to it,” he said, rising to his feet. “We’ve a lot to do between now and nightfall.”

  Once dusk fell, the time spent waiting until they could leave seemed like an eternity.

  Carrie changed into the green one-piece her brother had brought, filling the pockets with extra charge packs for her gun, a torch, trail bars, a couple of drink sachets, and a hank of fine nylon rope from Davies.

  “Where d’you get that?” she’d asked him.

  “Skai and I can get most things given enough time,” he’d replied with a wink.

  Pockets organized to her satisfaction, she donned the hooded robe and fastened it with her belt, making sure the knife was easily reachable. At the other side, she hung the energy pistol and its holster.

  “Have you briefed them fully on what to do, Mito?” asked Garras for the umpteenth time.

  “Yes, Captain,” she sighed.

  “Go over it once more,” he said.

  “No,” she said. “If I do it again, they are likely to forget due to saturation. They know what they’re doing. Kusac does have some computer skills.”

  “What are you going to do if the computer doesn’t accept the Search code?” asked Guynor suddenly.

  Kusac looked up at him. “Read it from an operator and find a more suitable terminal if necessary,” he replied.

  “What happens if you’re disturbed?” demanded Skinner.

  “We won’t be,” replied Carrie. “One of us will always be on guard. We will sense if a Valtegan comes near us. You know all this,” she said in exasperation.

  “You might be taken on the way out,” argued Skinner.

  Carrie glanced at Kusac briefly. “We won’t be taken alive,” she replied harshly. “Now leave it, all of you.”

  “I’ve got a question for you,” said Kusac suddenly, looking at Garras. “Where are we going when we leave here? If we’re discovered, there could be a planet-wide search for us.”

  “We’re heading for our base in the caves,” said Garras. “It’s more easily defended if they track us there. We should be able to hold out until help comes.”

  “How long do you anticipate that will be?” asked Nelson.

  “At the most a week. When our ship arrives, it’ll come in fighting.”

  “I hate to interrupt you, folks, but it’s time to leave,” said Davies.

  There was a general shuffling of bodies as they prepared for takeoff.

  Carrie felt herself going cold with fear. Her stomach began to churn and she felt light-headed. She groped for Kusac’s hand, finding reassurance in its warmth.

  Don’t be afraid, Leska. Fear will weaken your will and concentration. Breathe deeply and remember all we have practiced. We will succeed, came his thoughts.

  She took a shaky breath and forced herself to relax.

  “Did you remember to get an imprint of what Valtegan Jo knows?” asked Richard urgently, leaning forward to touch his sister on the shoulder.

  Carrie nodded. “Everything has been gone over dozens of times,” she said tiredly. “Let me rest, please. I know you’re concerned, but all you’re doing is getting me worried.”

  The rest of the trip was in virtual silence. Flying so heavily laden in the dark without lights taxed Davies’ ability to the full and there were several near misses as he skimmed low over the forest to touch down briefly near the edge of the swamp.

  The radio burst into life, demanding their clearance code, destination, and the reason for their arrival.

  Jo answered as best she could, claiming, “A Terran female from Geshader.”

  Carrie felt her blood run cold. This was suddenly too like what Elise had been doing. Pray God, they didn’t meet the same fate.

  “We’ll be waiting opposite the gates, amid the trees at the edge of the perimeter,” said Skinner, the last to leave.

  “Davies, remember to lock the hatch and power down as if no one is aboard,” he hissed, sticking his head back inside. “Good luck!”

  As the craft hovered before landing, the guards at the gate trained a spotlight on them and moved forward to await their arrival.

  Davies shut the engine down.

  “Up and out you two before they decide to come over to us. Take care.”

  Carrie and Kusac scrambled to their feet, grabbed their packs containing the computer and the interface, and jumped out. The hatch slid shut behind them. It was a lonely sound.

  Breathe deeply, Leska, came Kusac’s thought. Good. Now, create your illusion and we will go before they come to investigate.

  Quickly but carefully, Carrie drew the illusory robe around her, until she was almost aware of it herself. She looked at Kusac, nearly drawing back in shock from the Valtegan beside her.

  She made a small noise of fright which she hastily stifled.

  You look equally convincing, came the humorous rejoinder.

  They moved out of the cover of the groundcar and into the spotlight’s glare, blinking as they walked toward the guards. The guns trained on them lowered and one of the guards spoke briefly to Kusac before turning to his companion and making what sounded like a ribald comment.

  Kusac replied equally briefly and they were waved on.

  When we get inside, read them, he ordered.

  Wanting to run every inch of the way, Carrie clutched her portion of the computer interface and schooled herself to follow Kusac at a sedate pace. They were heading for a large, single-storied building with transparent doors where another two guards stood waiting.

  Carrie felt a slight pull on her mind and quickly reinforced her illusion. She saw Kusac’s image briefly waver, then re-form. He approached the guards, motioning her to stop.

  Again they were challenged, but this time Kusac replied fluently and some bantering followed. Hardly daring to breathe, she waited impatiently until Kusac ordered her to follow. One of the guards lowered his rifle and held the doors open for them.

  Once inside the hallway, Kusac led the way off to a passage on the right. As soon as they were out of sight, he slumped against the wall, letting the computer rest on the floor.

  “Are you all right?” whispered Carrie, grasping hold of his arm.

  “I’m fine,” he said, letting his disguise fade. “I’m just getting my nerve back.”

  He breathed deeply, shuddered, and stood up again.

  “I had to ‘read’ the soldiers at the door or we wouldn’t have got past them. Sorry, but I had to pull on you to do it. I think we can drop
the illusions now.”

  “I wondered how you’d suddenly become so fluent,” she murmured, relaxing briefly. “Let me access your knowledge, then I can understand them, too. I didn’t dare do it myself in case it affected my illusion.”

  “Haven’t got time. They said they had no orders about a female being requested by one of the officers, but that it wasn’t unusual. These are the living quarters here. I want to get out of the area before someone sees you and decides he really does want your company. Come on.”

  He picked up the computer and moved away from the wall, heading down the corridor.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To their refectory area. It’s unlikely anyone will be there at this time of night.”

  As they hurried through the corridors, Carrie tried to sense any presences around them but she only picked up the sleeping rhythms of the Valtegans on the other sides of the doors they passed.

  The lighting was dimmer now, with an orange-red tint, and Carrie began to sweat in the increased heat. She found it impossible to suppress her feelings of déja vu.

  Kusac stopped to peer round a corner, then beckoned to her. Ahead of them was a darkened refectory, the serving area obviously closed for the night.

  “Where now?” questioned Carrie.

  “The office. They have to have one.”

  They picked their way between the-tables until they came to the door leading to the kitchens. Slowly, Kusac opened it and they stepped inside. There was a heavy metallic odor in the air. He sniffed, recognizing it as blood. Carrie stirred restlessly at his side. She, too, had picked up the smell.

  She pulled the flashlight from her pocket and turned it on. By the glare of the beam, they could see a desk in front of a wall mounted computer screen.

  “Check the rest of the room,” hissed Kusac. “They must have a diagnostic point in here.”

  Carrie quickly swept the beam around the room before flicking it off. Briefly, it had illuminated double doors leading to the kitchen area.

  “Nothing,” she whispered. “They probably don’t have diagnostic ports at every console.”

  “What’s through there?”

  “Kitchens. You don’t want to go in there,” she said, reaching out to hold him back.

  “Why?”

  “The Valtegans like as much raw meat as they can get. Raw and still bleeding,” she emphasized.

  Kusac wrinkled his nose in disgust.

  “We could wander around looking for a port until dawn at this rate,” he muttered angrily. “Is there anyone nearby?”

  “No,” replied Carrie. “Wait! There is someone heading this way.”

  “Who?” demanded Kusac.

  “A very hungry Valtegan who shouldn’t be in this area,” she chuckled.

  “He’ll do. How far, away is he?”

  “Far enough for us to get out of here and surprise him,” replied Carrie, moving toward the door.

  Silently, they crept out of the room and waited in the shadows by the entrance.

  Leave this to me, came Carrie’s thought.

  A nervous head poked through the door and looked about quickly. It froze, eyes bulging in fear, then a Valtegan walked stiff-leggedly into the room.

  Kusac opened his mouth to protest but Carrie’s answer came first.

  War, was all she said.

  As the Valtegan halted, Kusac moved out of the shadows and helped himself to the soldier’s side arm. He placed the muzzle under the other’s chin.

  “We need to find a diagnostic point for your computer. You’re going to take us to one. Do you understand?” he said in perfect Valtegan.

  Carrie relaxed her control and the soldier began to slump until Kusac jabbed the gun harder against his jaw.

  “One sound or one wrong move and you’re dead,” said Carrie from his other side.

  “Do you understand?” repeated Kusac.

  The Valtegan blinked repeatedly, his eyes widening in fear. He gestured toward a door at one side of the refectory.

  Kusac removed the gun and signed for him to lead the way.

  You’re learning, said Carrie.

  Just keep monitoring him and our surroundings, Kusac growled mentally.

  The soldier led them through the door into a series of service corridors. The floors were uncarpeted concrete and the walls bare except for occasional access ports for the various utilities such as air ducts and power. At length he stopped in front of a small alcove set to one side. He indicated the VDU screen and computer terminal mounted into the wall above a diagnostic port.

  The soldier screwed his face up as if in pain.

  “This is it,” said Carrie, “and I don’t read anyone in the immediate area.”

  Kusac nodded and handed the gun to her as he turned away to set down their computer. He heard a dull crack and looked up sharply as the Valtegan fell bonelessly to the floor.

  “Why did you hit him?” he demanded.

  “We need to restrain him if we’re going to work,” said Carrie defensively, stuffing the gun back in its holster. “Unconscious, gagged, and tied up, he won’t be a problem to us. We also don’t want him alerting anyone else before we leave.”

  “You could have done it mentally,” he said. “There was no need for violence.”

  “We’ll untie him when we leave. When he’s found, he has to have a physical reason for having passed out, unless you want his tales of mental control and strange Aliens being believed,” she replied. “As it is, they should put it all down to concussion.”

  She reached inside her robe for the rope and began tying the Valtegan up.

  Kusac eyed her askance. “You’re making a thorough job of that,” he said.

  “I got Nelson to show me this, and how to use my knife,” she said, tying the last knot and cutting off the slack.

  Kusac grunted and returned to opening the computer case while Carrie started setting up the interface. She could still sense his disquiet over what she had done, but he was beginning to accept that the world they were now living in had harsher realities than his hitherto protected life as a Sholan Telepath.

  Once their two units had been connected, Kusac sat back on his heels with a sigh.

  “The moment of truth, eh, Carrie? Let’s hope our people have got it right.”

  He leaned forward and plugged the lead from the interface into the Valtegan diagnostic port and switched on their equipment. There was a faint humming and then the VDU screen lit up. A series of symbols appeared as the Valtegan computer asked for verification of the access code. Their “burglar” clicked gently to life, beginning to run the program that Mito had set up.

  A slight delay followed the printing of their reply. The same phrase was repeated and again their computer gave the same response. This time there was a longer delay while the computer whirred to itself. Finally another set of words appeared.

  “It isn’t accepting the first code,” fretted Kusac. “Did you pick up anything of use from him?” he asked, indicating the prone figure of the soldier.

  “Yes, but I don’t know if this will override our program without interrupting it,” she said, reaching out and pressing several keys on the console. “It’s a risk we’ll have to take.”

  The screen cleared as if by magic.

  “It needed an operator code as well,” she explained. “I used his.”

  Now they were able to identify the phrases telling them their identity had been verified, and to continue with their instructions.

  Carrie found she was able to breathe again. She squatted down beside Kusac, reaching out to touch him for reassurance.

  “What now?” she asked. “Do we wait here till it sends the message?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. We still have to monitor the screen and make sure no one approaches this area,” he replied.

  “And pray that the operator on duty, or the security system, didn’t notice the delay over that damned operator code! Can you tell if we have got into the transmitter program yet?”
>
  “Just about. There we go,” he said, relaxing. “The worst should be over.”

  He shifted into a more comfortable position, back to the wall opposite the VDU.

  “This is the long-winded part,” he said. “It could take upward of an hour, depending on which quadrant the transmitter was facing before we started our Search test.”

  Carrie settled down beside him and tried to ease the tension in her neck muscles.

  “Don’t try,” advised Kusac, putting an arm round her. “The extra adrenaline will keep you alert for now.”

  It was nearly three quarters of an hour later when Kusac shook her awake.

  “There’s someone coming!” he hissed, getting to his feet.

  “Uh?” she muttered, trying desperately to get her brain working.

  “Someone’s coming, but they’re too far for me to reach. I need you to Link with me,” he said urgently.

  “Ah, right,” she said, finally managing to surface.

  Taking his outheld hand, she was immediately aware of the presence of the Valtegan. Together they carefully entered the Alien’s mind, ascertaining that his errand was a personal one which could easily wait. A small thought here and there and he quickly decided that he really had no desire to visit his friend via the service corridors. Without quite knowing why, he found himself blinking sleepily and returning to his own room.

  “Let’s hope there aren’t any more insomniacs,” sighed Carrie, letting the Link dissolve and returning her attention to the screen.

  “Hey! Doesn’t that mean we’re actually transmitting?” she demanded, pointing at the display.

  Kusac swiveled around.

  “By Vartra, you’re right! We’ve actually done it,” he exclaimed.

  The screen cleared, then their transmit code was repeated.

  “Three times they said, didn’t they?” asked Carrie. “Then it returns to the Search test mode and we dismantle our equipment.”

  Kusac nodded. “There goes the third signal.”

  The screen blanked suddenly, closing down their signal in mid-transmission.

  “Oh, shit,” said Carrie, jumping up.