Turning Point (39 page)

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.

A message appeared on the screen, flashing imperatively, emitting loud beeps.

“What's it say?” she demanded.

“It's asking who is using the terminal. Put that operator code in again,” he said, scrambling to his feet.

Carrie typed in the digits but the message and the beeping tone remained the same.

“I don't think it's working this time,” she said.

A second message flashed on the screen.

“Unauthorized use of transmitter. Security breached,” he read as a klaxon began to sound.

Hurriedly, he switched off the machines, pulling the lead free of the port.

“Let's get the hell out of here,” he said urgently.

They shoved the cables into the improvised cases, latching them shut.

“There's a quicker way out,” said Carrie. “It avoids the main doorway. I picked it up from him.” She indicated the still unconscious soldier.

“We'll still have to leave by the main gates, though. Let's go.”

They headed down the corridor at a run, the klaxon wailing like a banshee all around them.

As she ran, Carrie was mentally searching ahead. Suddenly she slid to a stop, grabbing Kusac by the arm and pulling him back against the wall.

A door on their left began to open. She grabbed for her gun, pulling it free and firing just as a Valtegan stepped into the corridor.

The burst of energy clipped the soldier's upper arm, making him screech in pain.

“Damn,” she muttered, taking aim and firing again. This time the Valtegan went flying backward without a sound. The smell of charred flesh filled the corridor.

“Oh, God,” she moaned, slumping against the wall, the gun hanging limply from her hand. She felt sick to the pit of her stomach.

Kusac, mentally checking beyond the door, shook her firmly by the arm.

War, Carrie,
he sent.

Carrie took a gulp of air through her mouth and straightened up, trying not to look at the Valtegan she had just killed.

They waited a moment but neither of them could sense anyone else.

Let's go,
sent Kusac.

They checked visually at the doorway, closing it before continuing their mad dash. Carrie looked the other way as she passed the body. Finally the corridor curved to the left, ending at a metal door. They skidded to a halt. Hearts thumping and chests heaving, they gasped for breath. Over the sound of the klaxon, they could hear the pounding of many feet coming from behind.

Carrie nodded as Kusac glanced quizzically at her. He opened the door.

“Wait,” she said, tugging at his half of the computer. “Leave it,” she said.

He put it down and turned to look through the partial opening. Hearing the gun go off he jerked his head back round. The two cases were smouldering ruins.

Cautiously, they stepped through the doorway, closing it behind them. A short blast of his gun and Kusac had sealed the mechanism shut.