Serpent's Gift (45 page)

Heather strained to hear the two men's conversation as Serge began talking excitedly, urging Morrow to accompany him down to the dig site. From what Serge said, he'd just found proof that Andrea Lynch had planted the artifacts six months ago, then rigged a fake radonium-2 alarm, designed to be tripped when anyone tampered with the star-shrine in Cavern Two. Lynch, Serge told Morrow, was now using specialized containers purchased with H.U.

funds to steal StarBridge's precious radonium!

Holy shit!
Heather thought.
This is just like
Teen Sleuths!
Serge figured all of
this out today?
She knew how the young man felt about Andrea Lynch--he'd spoken bitterly of her in Heather's presence more than once. And today he'd told her that he planned to check on their precious star-shrine whether Morrow allowed him on the site or not. Evidently he'd made good on his promise.

Now Morrow was talking, assuring Serge that he'd come with him as soon as he could get dressed, and that, together, the two of them would get to the bottom of this.

Serge shook Morrow's hand gratefully, thanking him for his understanding.

Heather, listening, suddenly shook her head.
No, Serge! Don't thank him!

Something's wrong!

She had no idea what that "something" was, but she was sure of what she sensed. Heather bit her knuckles as she considered what she ought to do, but before she could decide, Morrow reappeared again, fully dressed.

Together, he and Serge left the living area of the station, heading for the shuttle docks.

What should I do?
Heather thought, following them again.
I'm just a kid!

Nobody's going to listen to me, and all I have are suspicions! If only he
weren't wearing that damned distort!

When the two men stopped at the docking area where the suit lockers were located, the girl dug her fingers into her palms, took a deep breath, then deliberately
pushed
her mind at Morrow's, seeking to read
past
the distort.

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The pain slammed into her, along with the white-noise hum, the dizziness, the mental confusion. After a second she could stand no more, and had to pull back, leaning against the nearest wall for support. She came within a centimeter of throwing up, right there in public.

But she had succeeded--at least partly!

Now Heather
knew
that Jeff Morrow was lying, and that he intended nothing good toward Serge. Her friend was in terrible danger. She had to warn him!

Doctor Blanket>
she "shouted."
Something terrible has happened! Serge is
with Jeff Morrow, and Morrow's lying to him. I don't know exactly why, or
how, but I'm certain he's in danger! Nobody knows they're together! I'm going
to try and warn Serge. Please tell Dr. Rob what's happened!

Ducking into the suit-locker section, she went into the women's storage area.

With her computerpen, it took only a few moments to locate the smallest woman's suit there, and open the locker where it was stored.

Fortunately, no one was in the immediate area as Heather struggled to get into the suit and get it sealed properly. It was slightly too big, but she could wear it. Heather had gone through suit drills aboard the
Mclntyre,
so she'd done this once before (with help), but it was hard to remember all the checks.

She finally ended up "borrowing" the correct information on wearing the suit and getting it properly sealed from a woman several aisles away, who had no idea that her brain was being picked.

I know I promised I wouldn't do that anymore,
the child thought,
but this is an
emergency!

Serge and Jeff Morrow were already down in the tiny terminal cubicle at the end of the docking tube where one of the H.U. shuttles was moored, filing their flight plan with Traffic Control. Heather sauntered past them, just another spacesuited (albeit a bit short) worker, then she bolted for the cargo airlock on the other side of the shuttle. Fortunately, it took her only a moment with her computerpen to open the lock.

Then she crouched in the cargo section, feeling her heart thud as the shuttle took off.

Now what do I do?
she wondered. I
can't just go up to Serge in front of
Morrow
--I
could've done that back at the station!
No, she had to get Serge alone, so she could tell him, then they could leave together. She wouldn't put it past Lynch or Morrow to play really dirty.

267

Heather made sure her computerpen was securely fastened inside the outer pocket of her pressure suit. If she could just get into one of H.U.'s offices onsite, she was certain she could rig some type of distraction to get Morrow away from Serge. She'd have to play it by ear.

Heart pounding, the child waited . . .

After tossing and turning for nearly an hour, Rob had just dozed off when the summons reached him.

Eyes wide in the darkness, he sat up in bed, dislodging the cat, who gave an affronted grumble and jumped down. "Doctor Blanket, what is it?"

Rob groaned aloud.
Oh, no,
not again!

"What's going on? Is she in danger?"

"Is she right?"

"Then how could Heather know all this? Where is Heather now?"

"I've been trying to reach Jeff all day," Rob said, scrambling out of bed and nearly tripping over Bast in the dark. Hastily, he ordered on the lights, then grabbed his pants, pulled them on. His shirt and boots followed. "I'll call him again, right now. You say he's at the site?"

"Do you sense anything wrong with Serge?"

happy
when I touched his consciousness...> the alien groped for words.

"No, he wouldn't be," Rob said grimly, "not under the circumstances."

"Can you still sense Serge or communicate with him?"

268

"What aboutHeather?
She's a telepath, too."

sense her on the station, but I cannot be sure
she
is
not
here.
She
has a strong natural shield. If she is concentrating intently on something, it is difficult for me to "find" or distract her. That is how she could invade the Mind without my knowing it at first--until her concentration failed, I could not sense her.>

Rob frowned. "Well, we'll worry about Heather later. If you don't sense any danger from her, we'll assume she's okay for now. What I need is to get in touch with Jeff out at the site. I'm afraid he's on the verge of a breakdown,"

he admitted. "His wife called me today and said he's been acting very erratic for a while now . .. which fits in with what I've observed these last two weeks."

blackness and hate poisoning the very real love he felt for this school and those within it.>

"Hate?" Rob was taken aback. "I know he was depressed, and angry, and frustrated, but he
hated
us?"

"I know he's very fond of me," Rob agreed. "We'll work together to straighten this mess out," he vowed, trying to summon a positive attitude. If only he weren't so exhausted! Awake most of last night, grieving for Hing, the pressure of the evacuation. .. he sighed as he sat down before his terminal.

No rest for the wicked.

Seven extremely insistent minutes later, the H.U. offices patched him through to Jeff Morrow.

The engineer was apparently in the cavern rather than one of the

bubbletents, because Rob could see what appeared to be dark rock behind him, rather than plas-steel. But Morrow had activated the privacy shield, so details of the background were masked by the distinctive glowing shimmer that surrounded him.

"Rob?" he said. "Listen, I'm really rushed right now. Can this wait?"

"No," the psychologist said bluntly. "It can't, I'm afraid, Jeff." Morrow, he noted, seemed calm enough, but there was an air of feverish excitement about him that the doctor didn't like. Beneath the rumpled hair, his eyes looked too bright in their shadowed sockets. Far from being depressed, he seemed almost manic. Rob couldn't tell whether or not he'd been drinking.

"Okay, then, shoot," Jeff said. "What's up?"

"Is Serge LaRoche with you?"

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"Yeah, he's here. He wanted to get his star-shrine, was worried that old Lynch had designs on it. I told him that's nonsense, but he wasn't reassured, so we came down together so he can take the thing back with him. He's a nice kid ... I don't want him to worry when there's no reason for it."

"Jeff. . ." Rob said slowly, "we need to talk. About Lynch, among other things.

I'm willing to help you any way I can, you know that. Don't try and tell me that nothing's wrong, I know you too well for that. This whole situation is way out of hand--something is really wrong, and I think I know what it is. But between us we can work out a way to make it right. Let me talk to you. I'll grab a ship and come out there right away."

Obviously disturbed by Rob's speech, Morrow hesitated. "I'll meet you later up at the station," he offered finally. "Where are you staying?"

"I'm still here at the school," Rob said. "Janet's still here, too, with a few members of her crew."

"You're at the school. .." Morrow repeated, as if he hadn't quite assimilated what Rob had told him. Abruptly he straightened in his seat, nodding. "Okay, you win. Come on out." Quickly he gave Rob the access code to the cavern airlock. "How soon will you make it?"

"I'll be there in thirty minutes, tops," Rob said, and broke the connection.

Next he signaled Phillips in Traffic Control. "Hey, Teresa," he said. "Have you got a ship and a pilot for me? I've got to get out to the Lamont Cliffs right away."

She shook her head. "No ship, Rob. All of the shuttles are up at the station.

But for a point-to-point like that, you can use one of the little scooters. Can you pilot one?"

"No," he said, his heart sinking.

"That's all right. I've got a relief pilot down here, a Simiu named Khuharkk'.

He'll take you out, I'm sure."

"I know him. Thanks, Teresa. I'll be right there."

Rob headed for the hangar dome at a fast jog, feeling his sense of urgency grow with each stride.

Hidden deep within the curtain of shadow cast by the cavern airlock, Heather watched the little scooter settle down near the entrance to the cavern where Serge and Morrow had gone. Who could this be? She

recognized that the pilot was a Simiu--the four-footed stance was unmistakable. That argued that the craft was

270

from
the
'Bridge, because Horizons Unlimited was a human-owned
and
operated company.

Anxiously, she watched a spacesuited figure scramble out of the

passenger's seat, then head directly for the lock. For a moment she almost stepped out and stopped it, but not knowing the newcomer's identity held her back. What if this was Janet Rodriguez? What if Rob had sent her to investigate? Janet would never believe anything Heather told her--the child sensed that the engineer wasn't even fully convinced that she hadn't caused the computer problems when the
Night Storm
had crashed.

While she hesitated, the figure quickly entered a code, then Heather felt the vibration as the doors slid back.

Too late now!

Cautiously, the girl crept out of concealment, then moving with exaggerated care in the strange gravity, she headed toward the spidery little craft, picking a path that kept her out of sight until she could peer at the pilot's profile. She thought there was something familiar about the way he carried himself. ..

A moment later she stepped into full view, waving to get his attention.

Tapping her head, she shook it ostentatiously from side to side, holding a finger to her lips. Khuharkk' stared at her, uncomprehending, then she pantomimed again.

This time, he understood. She saw him turn off his suit radio, and did the same. Both of them leaned forward so they could touch helmets, and thus have a private conversation. "Honored Khuharkk'!" Heather said loudly, "I'm so glad to see you!"

"Honored Heather, what in the Name of Honor are
you
doing here?"

"I came down with Serge and Morrow, but I hid so they wouldn't find me.

Who was that?" she pointed to the airlock.

"Honored Healer Gable," the Simiu replied, obviously bewildered by finding her at the site.

"Damn!" Heather scowled. "He's in danger, Khuharkk', I just know that he is!

Something's wrong! Jeff Morrow is ... he's not right, up here," she said, and tapped her helmet. "I'm sure of it. I think he might be having a breakdown or something."

"I will go in and check on Rob and Serge," the Simiu said, now alarmed. He started to get off the scooter.

"No!" Heather grabbed his arm. "Khuharkk', you've got to go for help! I'm going to break into that bubbletent over there and call up to the station, but just in case I can't get through, or they won't listen to me--grown-ups have a problem listening to kids, they always think you're screwing around with them--
you've
got to

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go for help!" She gave him a pleading look. "Right now, Honored Khuharkk'!