Doctor Vogel took out his rag and blotted his face.
AI monitors, life-support stations and hi-speed computers circled her tube like megalithic Stonehenges. They whirred with impressive sounds, flashed colored lights and occasionally hummed somewhere deep inside like worker bees. Through the lines, the machines fed her water, a highly nutritious broth and hi-speed information. Other cables drained off wastes and incoming information.
Doctor Vogel groaned, pressed the rag against his face and shook his head. He didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to see her legs churn in slow motion as if she were running, trying to escape.
He gathered his courage and lowered the rag. A gout of bubbles burbled from her mask and her body grew rigid. She screamed. Doctor Vogel couldn’t hear it, but he felt it. His heart raced. Sweat oozed onto his face and he began to shake.
Get me out of here. I must get out of here.
Doctor Vogel crammed the rag against his mouth. She shouldn’t be able to send, not to him. That should be impossible. It was impossible. The drugs—not drugs. No, don’t call them drugs. The stimulants, the enhancers—oh, there was a nice word for you.
His throat convulsed, and it felt as if he swallowed sawdust.
Her eyelids quivered.
Doctor Vogel shook his head. He didn’t want to meet her gaze. That was too much, too dreadful, too awful. Don’t open your eyes, he begged. You’re drugged—no, no, you’re sedated. It’s for the best. You must know that.
The left eye opened. She stared at him. And more bubbles, big, fat, wobbling bubbles slithered out of the mask.
Get me out of here! You must get me out of here! The message slammed into his mind. It staggered him so he thumped against a wall.
Golden Doctor Vogel clenched his fingers so the nails dug into his palms. He moaned. He, he—
Help me, please.
Doctor Vogel flung the rag onto the sterile floor and pushed off the wall. He staggered to a monitor.
Hope shone in her murky eye. She began to churn her legs again. They were so pitifully thin.
Vogel punched in a security code.
A klaxon wailed as a red light pulsated, bathing the room in a hellish glare.
This wasn’t ethical. It was wrong, very wrong.
“Shut up!” Vogel snarled. He hated his conscience. He slid to another console and began a delicate procedure.
A yellow light began to flash. A stern computer voice spoke. “STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING. YOU ARE IN VIOLATION OF THE LAW. SECURITY HAS BEEN NOTIFIED.”
Doctor Vogel worked faster. He heard a hiss, glanced over his shoulder.
EKG tabs detached from Daisy Thirteen. Food tubes began to wriggle loose. The restraints to her arms weakened. She shook them off.
“Keep your mask on!” Vogel shouted. She couldn’t hear him, but maybe she would pick the thought out of his mind.
He shuffled to another bank of monitors. His sweaty head shone in the harsh lights. The shirt under his lab coat stuck to his skin.
Something clanged, and there was a shish-shish sound, the blue glop draining out of the bottom of the tube.
Doctor Vogel rushed to a closet and fumbled with the code. It clicked. He flung open the door and grabbed a towel and a small metal stool. He dashed to the ten-meter tube.
Daisy Thirteen stared at him as she floated downward with the draining glop. She was rail thin, the next thing to skeletal. Her head broke through the blue solution and dirty blond hair sagged around her shoulders. She tore at her mask.
Doctor Vogel shoved the stool against the tube, stepped onto the stool and reached as high as he could. By leaning against the cool cylinder and standing on his tiptoes, he punched in the code. An outline of a hatch appeared. Doctor Vogel pressed a seal and yanked open the hatch. Glop sloshed out and soaked his pants. He clung to the edge of the opening so he wouldn’t slip off the stool.
Daisy Thirteen’s hand touched his.
Wild hope surged through Doctor Vogel. It was an adrenalin rush, and he found himself grinning at her.
She tried to speak, but only managed a grunt.
“Climb out,” he said. “I’ll help you.”
She was so pitifully thin. Fierce determination dominated her, however. She heaved and forced herself through the hatch. Doctor Vogel caught her. Klaxons wailed. She was naked, with small buds for breasts. There was nothing sexually exciting about it. She seemed more nightmare than human, with huge, luminous eyes and skeletal features.
“We have to run,” he said.
She nodded.
He helped her to a console, picked up the towel and rubbed her pimpled skin. Then he wrapped the towel around her.
“We must hurry.”
“Hurry,” she croaked.
He held her hand, and the wild elation hit him with rebounding force. He couldn’t block it, so he rode the emotion like a surfer upon a wave. It lifted his spirits and he found himself grinning so wide that his mouth hurt.
“Security is coming,” he said.
Despite her thin legs, her wretched weakness, she followed him out of the door and along the stainless steel corridor. Her naked feet slapped the metal like fins.
“Where are we?” she wheezed.
“Deep in the communications complex.”
“How far is deep?”
“Two kilometers.”
She breathed like a stranded trout.
“This way,” he said. He pressed his thumb against a lock and a door swished open. He pulled her through. The door closed and they waited in darkness.
“Why have we stopped?” she whispered.
“Listen.”
Loud voices shouted from the other side. Boots pounded on metal. There was clattering, guns, batons and cuffs flapping from belts perhaps.
“What’s happening?” she whispered.
“Scan them.”
In the dark, Vogel felt her scrutiny. He radiated goodwill and tenderness as he held her hands.
“...They’re Security,” she said. “There’s been a breach. They’re angry. Worried.” Her voice changed. “This could cost them their existence. It’s me they’re after.”
“That’s right.”
“I’m… I’m worth billions.”
“Billions of credits,” he said.
“You’re hiding something. …Are you kidnapping me for ransom?”
He laughed with a screech. “I’m your doctor. I monitor your health, your mental well-being. I’m an empath.” His gut churned. “I… I couldn’t stand it anymore what they’ve done to you. It eats at me.” He licked salty lips. “Are they gone?”
“—Yes.”
“We must hurry.”
“I’m so tired,” she said. “So weak.”
“I know, but we don’t have much time.”
He fumbled in the dark. The door opened. He peeked outside. The last Security commando dashed around the corner.
He dragged her out, and they stumbled the other way.
“I’m heading to an elevator,” he explained.
Her fingers tightened onto his. “You’re taking me to see the sun?”
“We have to go down before we go up.”
He turned a corner, and in seconds, they came to another door. He punched in codes.
She panted as she leaned against him.
Something pinged. Doors opened. They stepped inside the elevator.
“Down,” said Doctor Vogel, “to hanger level twenty-five.”
They began to descend, picking up speed.
Daisy Thirteen wheezed, each breath straining the towel’s grip on her slippery skin. She pushed soggy hair out of her eyes and stared at Vogel. She topped him by a head.
Her eyes, the hope there… he looked away.
“You’ve done this before,” she whispered. It was almost an accusation.
He clamped down on his emotions. His empathy worked two ways. He was one of the few people on Pollux II she couldn’t scan if he blocked. He forced a hearty grin and met her strange eyes.<
br />
“It may seem like I’ve done this before,” he said. “I’ve mapped out each step, each thing that must be done to get you out. I’ve planned it so often it probably feels real to me. That’s what you’re reading.”
She frowned.
He elbowed her. “Do we make it?”
“What?”
“Sorry,” he said. “It was a lame joke.”
“How can you joke?” she asked. Tears shined in her eyes. “They-they used me. They hooked me—what was that? What was I in?”
The elevator slowed. They stopped. The doors opened.
“Hurry,” said Vogel, pushing her out.
They ran in an underground garage, a vast concrete affair with harsh lights above. They passed squat vehicles with outrageous balloon tires.
“We’re being watched,” she whispered, looking around. “They know we’re down here.”
“This way!” shouted Vogel. The trick was to keep her moving.
He pulled her to a small vehicle, shoved her into a seat. He slid in beside her. As his foot tromped on the accelerator, Security people in black suits shouted from opening elevators.
Daisy Thirteen clutched his arm.
Fear washed through Doctor Vogel. It twisted his stomach, wrenched his heart and tasted like bile. Her telepathic strength was incredible.
“Hold on!” he shouted, gripping the steering wheel.
They whizzed past huge parked vehicles, mammoth things.
“We’ll never make it!” she shouted.
He spun the wheel hard, trying to zip between two parked vehicles. They skidded and slammed against a giant craft. They tumbled out and Daisy hit her head against the floor.
Doctor Vogel knew a moment of panic. If she was damaged…
“Ohhh,” she moaned, clutching her head.
He helped her up, opened a hatch to a digger and propelled her through. They staggered down a short corridor and burst into a control chamber. Vogel helped her into a padded seat. A bruise had already appeared where she had bumped her forehead. He should have stocked crash helmets in the runabout.
“I’m fine.” She stared at him strangely. “Just get us outside. Let me see the sun again.”
He tore his gaze from the bruise and strapped her in. Then he slid to the control seat.
“Digger on,” he said.
Engines whirred into life. The vehicle shook.
A communicator blared, “Stop! You’re in violation of the law!”
Vogel flipped a toggle and the voice died. He grinned at her, gave her a thumbs up. Then he grabbed the controls and the huge digger lurched into motion.
***
They rumbled down a tunnel, passed lights and drove into darkness. Doctor Vogel ordered headlamps on. The glare through the window showed jagged tunnel rocks and a gravel road.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Underground.” Vogel scanned the locator. “Drill on,” he said.
Their vehicle shuddered and the noise level rose.
“Put this on!” shouted Vogel. He handed her earmuffs, put a set over his ears. Then he turned the digger into solid rock.
A teeth-aching whine made it impossible to talk.
Her features became chalky. The digger lurched and slewed side to side. She squeezed her eyes closed and rubbed her head. An explosion shook the digger. She gripped the restraints.
Vogel smiled encouragement, but he didn’t dare climb out of his padded chair. The digger was too unstable for either of them to walk around. That was the point.
She bit her lip and glanced at him every several seconds. She appeared thoughtful, troubled perhaps. The ride strained her. Poor thing. She had wanted to escape for a long time. Now she was doing it, and it was every bit as dangerous as she must have imagined.
He mouthed words: “I’ll get you out of here.”
She gave him a brave smile, nodded, and hope shined in her luminous eyes. That twisted his gut.
After a time, the digger’s whine changed pitch. There was a great lurch. Then the ride smoothed out and the noise cycled down.
“Drill off!” Vogel shouted. He pulled off his earmuffs.
Gingerly, she took hers off.
“My head aches,” she said. “The noise… I hope we don’t have to do that again.”
“Don’t worry.” He checked the locator. “Here’s where we get out.” He shut off the digger and began to unbuckle.
***
They exited the rock-dinged digger and ran down an old tunnel. Vogel used a flashlight to guide them. An air car waited. It was a two-seater with a bubble dome. Vogel lifted off and guided them through a huge tunnel. Soon they shot into sunlight.
Tears glistened in Daisy Thirteen’s eyes. “The sun,” she whispered.
“I don’t dare take us high. Hang on!”
He took them around rock formations and over two hundred foot pines. He maneuvered like a jet jock. The entire time, she pressed against the dome, watching the passing landscape.
“It’s heating up,” Vogel said later. “I’m going to land on that ledge.”
They were in the mountains now, far from the city and far from the communications grid. He landed with a thump and shut off the engine.
In the silence, Daisy Thirteen climbed out. They were on a ledge with a panoramic view of farmland in the valley. Spruces grew behind them on the slope, wafting a pine-needle scent.
Daisy wore overalls instead of the towel. Barefoot, walking across cool grass, she strolled near the edge.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
Doctor Vogel followed close behind, shielding his thoughts.
Daisy turned, smiled and lifted thin arms. “I’m free!” She hugged herself, and she thumped down, leaning back on her hands. She laughed quietly, and then she turned him a puzzled glance.
“You never told me. What was I in?”
“A telepathic enhancer.” He shoved his hands in his lab pockets.
She shook her head.
This was it, the last time for him. Maybe she deserved the truth, the little good it would do her.
“You have a twin,” he said.
Her luminous eyes widened. “Yes! That’s right. I remember. Where is she?”
“Rigel Ten,” Vogel said.
“Where?”
“A planet thirty-one light-years away.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I shouldn’t expect you would. You’ve been on a hi-octane diet of inhibitors, enhancers, stimulants and narcotics.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“It isn’t nice, no,” he said.
Her gaze pierced him. “Can you tell me why?”
Doctor Vogel looked away. How could he explain it? “The… the Empire has trillions of people on hundreds of planets. We’re been expanding through our spiral arm of the galaxy.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“It’s a matter of distance and time. Jumpgates and hyperspace lets us travel a light-year in a day. The Empire is hundreds of light-years in size. It takes over a year to go from one end to the other.”
“So?”
“So that’s as fast as anyone can communicate: a messenger in a jumpship. But that’s too slow to keep an empire together. Or maybe it’s just too inefficient.” He faced her.
“I don’t understand.”
“Twins and telepathy,” Vogel said slowly. “You and your twin thirty-one light-years away can ‘talk’ to one another instantaneously. No one else can do that, just telepathic twins. It takes special drugs, special equipment and an environment helpful to deep thought.”
“That tubular prison?” she whispered.
Vogel nodded as perspiration made his forehead shiny. “Out of trillions of citizens, there are one hundred and fifty-seven sets of telepathic twins. That’s not much to build an empire-wide communications net, but it’s the best we have. Without you… the Empire breaks down. This world is one of the communication hubs.”
�
�Why don’t I remember any of this?”
Doctor Vogel looked away.
“You know,” she said. “I can sense it.”
Vogel squeezed his eyes shut. This was so unethical, but he was an old man. He wanted that pension. He had to retire, get out of this horrible business.
An air car shrieked overhead.
“Is that them?” Daisy shouted, scrambling up.
Vogel hurried to her. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and tried to touch her arm with a pneumospray hypo. Instead, he froze.
She whirled around. Her features had hardened. She plucked the hypo from his weakened grasp.
He tried to speak, but couldn’t.
She pressed the hypo against his neck. It hissed. He crumpled onto the grass as his muscles relaxed. It became hard to think.
She bent over him. “You’re strong,” she whispered, “hard to read. I’ve been trying ever since the knock on my head. I have strange memories.” She released her telepathic grip.
Vogel forced words past his numb lips. “…No. You’ve never remembered before.”
“Before?” she said.
“Escape therapy,” he whispered. “You… you shut down sometimes. Escaping gets it out of your system. Drugs… drugs help you to forget.”
She rose.
“No,” he whispered. “Come back.”
He tried to lift his hand, but he was too sluggish now. He blinked, blinked again. The air car lifted. His eyelids felt so heavy.
***
Doctor Vogel awoke with a gasp. Hands gripped him. Something wet touched his feet. He realized that a mask covered his face. The tube! Men lowered him into the blue glop.
A tall man in a white lab coat regarded him.
Doctor Vogel tried to speak.
The tall doctor spoke fast. “We don’t have time for that, Vogel. The girl got away and the line to 70 Ophiuchi is still down. You imprinted with her, and you’re the next best telepath we have on the planet.”
Vogel shook his head.
“It isn’t optimum, certainly,” the tall doctor said. “We might have five percent capacity, but that’s better than nothing. Now don’t complain. There’s a good fellow.” The doctor signaled someone out of sight.
Vogel tried to resist, but a cocktail of drugs soothed him. Cables attached to his skin. He sank into the blue solution. They closed the hatch. The telecable attached to his forehead. Soon it seemed as if someone from faraway called to him.
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