The Loranth (Star Sojourner Book 1) (5 page)

Ground tremors!

Gretch must have sensed them. There were no trees or boulders near the tent, though. And it was on a hill away from the canyon.

A high keening cry off somewhere in the night made the hair on my neck stand up. The sound was too structured for wind. Too desolate for reptilian calls. More like a woman wailing.

I shook my head. Only wind squeezing through sandstone formations, playing them like warped flutes. I was getting as jumpy as Gretch! But it seemed the elements themselves had conspired to add a melodramatic note to my hopeless search.

I rummaged through the supplies and found my flashlight. The keening wail came again.

Closer.

No wind ever voiced that siren song. “What the hell's going on?” I asked nobody as I unholstered the stingler, checked the reassuring red light and set it on stun. “Christine!” I shouted into darkness and played the light around me. “Christine Saynes?”

The wailing stopped. Only the fading echo of my own voice bounced off canyon walls. The last light deserted the western peaks.

I waited, strained to separate her voice from the baleful wind. Perhaps she'd fallen and hit her head. That could be it! She was out there wandering alone, hurt. Delirious. “Christine!” I called.

I went outside. “I'm here, by your tent.” I swept the flashlight beam. Dried bushes and dancing shadows in the light. “I've come to rescue you.” I thought I heard laughter echo back from pinnacles. I gripped my stingler tighter.

Had I really found her? My guardian angel must have hocked his wings to pull this one off. Wouldn't Big H be surprised! Except that the thought of going home awakened that anxious hemmed-in feeling again. Would Hallarin still prosecute my case? He was capable of that.

“Jules,” came a whisper from behind.

I spun. “Christine?” How could she know my name? “Christine? Dammit, is that you?” Only the wind peeling sand. The rotten smell was stronger now. “Where are you?”

The ground shook beneath me.

“Follow the light, Christine.”

Again the singing, more a lament.

The dig site! It seemed to be coming from her dig site.

Something inside my mind was pushing to go there anyway. I labeled the feeling “hunch” and walked toward the depression.

Halfway there I paused. A tingling in my spine felt like more than just excitement. It harked back to the incident with the Cleocean child and his toy. Even the smell was right. Did Cleoceans ever go mad and murder? I wondered as wind flattened my jacket against my back. Could one be out here playing psychopathic mind games, imitating the last cries of the woman he'd murdered, while nature threw in ground tremors for effect?

I twisted the stingler setting to laser hot as I walked to the edge of the site, then turned it back to stun. I considered switching off the light, staying dark, but that could make me vulnerable to this nocturnal alien, if such were the case.

The song began again on a shrill note.

I stopped.

It was inside me now, desolate as bleached bones and empty sands. A plaintive wail that touched old wounds, affirming the unspoken futility of life.

It faded, but my hold on the stingler was so tight the handgrip dug into my palm. Whatever game he was playing, I'd bring that brine-sucking bushnester back to Leone! Hallarin would have to consider Saynes' murderer as balance paid for Randy. Wouldn't he?

“Jules, it's me!”

Someone brushed my arm, then knocked the light spinning. I heard laughter as I ran to pick it up, then a scraping of pebbles from the site. I swung the beam in a quick circle, my weapon trained. Could a Cleocean, with his bony mouth parts, really imitate a Terran that precisely? I didn't think so. Then what?

Something was intruding on my thoughts, making it difficult to hold an idea. I wished Jack were here to back me up as I moved toward the site. It was beginning to take a fair amount of will to resist that psychic tug.

At the depression's edge I dropped to my knees, shined the light over and aimed the stingler.

She was kneeling in the clay! Naked. And smiling. Her eyes were wide, unblinking as she stared back at the light.

I moved the beam out of her eyes and lowered the stingler. “Christine Saynes?” I said dumbly, though I already knew it was her from the photo in Hallarin's office.

“Yes, Jules. Oh, yes. Come down to me.” She stretched out her arms, exposing her bare breasts.

I swept the light around us. We were alone, but the drag on my will was becoming a definite problem. Why hadn't Hallarin told me she was a telepath? The croteass! And a strong one. They were rare among humans and I'd never met one till now. But in her state of mind I wasn't sure I could control her.

“Christine, listen to me,” I said reassuringly. “Everything's OK now. I'm going to take you home.”

“Home?” She laughed.

“Yes.
Home.
Now climb up the slope.” I was concentrating hard to form thoughts. I would have to make her submit to my directions if I were going to loosen this stranglehold on my mind and break it.

“Don't you want me?” She whimpered like a child and sat back, caressing her breasts, lifting them. “Come down to me, Jules,” she pleaded. “Be my lover.”

Great Mind, what had happened to her? “No. No, you come up here, Christine.”

Moonlight played on her body. Damn. If she'd been in her right mind… I stood, caught myself as I leaned over the edge. “Come on up now,” I said gently, then clamped my teeth and moved back from that insistent drag. “You'll catch a cold down there.” There are no cold germs on Tartarus. “I've got a nice warm tent, Chris, and some food. We can talk.”

The earth groaned again. I was ready and braced myself. I was not ready for the surge of tel power that hit like a shock wave and buffeted my mind.

“Christine! Stop it!” I felt myself move forward. My right foot hooked a vine. I yelled as I fell over the edge and rolled down the slope.

Christine laughed.

I got to my knees and rubbed my bruised elbow. I couldn't fight this level of psychic power all the way back to Leone. I'd have to use the stun setting on her, get her to the tent and wait for Gretch to return.

Tomorrow morning we'd start back for Leone, even if I had to keep her sedated all the way. I picked up the light. “Son of a bitch.” I looked at my hand and realized the stingler was gone. Where had I left it? I didn't remember dropping it. She was deepening her pathway into my brain, picking apart my thoughts, smothering memories. “Stop it! I'm trying to help you.”

“Yes, Jules. Help me.” Her voice was suddenly choked. She stood up unsteadily, dangling her arms at her sides. “Kill me. Do it!” she sobbed.

I shined the light on her, saw her sway as she looked up at stars. Tears shone through dirt on her cheeks. “Did you find your weapon?” she asked. “Kill me. Quickly!”

I grabbed her arm. “What's wrong with you?”

She stiffened and I heard her gasp in a breath. A look of intense fear crossed her face. In the distorting moonlight her lips drew back in a grimace.

I gently shook her arm. 'Christine, are you hurt?”

As though an invisible force directed her body, she turned away with a jerky movement. She was worse off than I'd thought.

'It's OK.” I put my arm around her shoulders. “I'll help you. It's OK now. Come with me.” I tried to lead her up the slope. She pulled back.

“Yes, Jules, help me!” Her smile was vacant. She threw her arms around my neck, leaned so hard we both fell. She kissed me, straddled my hips as I struggled to unlock her embrace. She was preternaturally strong. “Take me, Jules, make love to me,” she breathed. “Take me now!”

Her smell was rank. There was an urgency in her voice that had more to do with fear than desire.

“I'll take you home,” I said, holding her away by the wrists. “But get out of my mind! I can't help you if -“

The ground burst open with an explosive roar that momentarily deafened me. A black slit ran through the site. It widened.

I jumped to my feet. “Shit!” I exclaimed as the ground lurched and I fell again.

We rolled toward the slit. I braked us with my heels. A smell of ancient graves hit me. I scrambled to my feet, grabbed her arm and dragged her back. “Let's get out of here! Come on!”

“Please, Master,” she begged, broke free of my grip and faced the quaking pit. “Don't be angry. Please!”

There was a calming touch in my mind as I grabbed her wrist again and tried to pull her up the slope. What the hell was going on? Had she opened the pit with mind power? I didn't think so.

An urge so deep it rivaled instincts beckoned me to that yawning tomb.

Not my idea, I was certain. “Let's, go,” I cried. Whatever was happening I wanted no part of it. But the words themselves seemed to resist forming. I leaned away from the pit and yanked on her wrist.

“No!” She hit my shoulder with her fist. “He'll punish me.”

I stared at the black opening, felt ice fingers crawl up my spine. “Who? Who will punish you?”

Picturing what might snake out of that ragged slash in the earth strengthened my will. “We're leaving. Now!” I gripped her arm. “This is not multiple choice. Now move!” I shoved her toward the depression's slope.

“No!”

“Oh, yes.” I dragged her fighting up the slope while my breath rasped in my throat. But something tripped me, though the ground was bare. I slammed to my knees and fell back. I tried to lift feet which had suddenly grown lead shoes. I pushed against walls I couldn't see. My mind was hazing like breath on a window pane.

Christine tried to twist out of my grip but I clamped down on her wrist and stubbornly climbed again.

She hit my shoulder. “Let go of me!”

“Damn you, stop fighting,” I said. “Can't you see I'm trying to save us both?”

“The Master wants me to bring you back.” She hit me again.

I grabbed her arms and shook her. “What Master? You listen to me. Fuck the Master, whoever it is. You're a scientist, Saynes. Now
think!
We'll study this phenomenon back in Cape Leone.”

We might. If I could only hold one thought: Escape.

“He'll punish us both,” she sobbed, then kicked me. “Let go of me, you devil's spawn!” She fought like a cat, all teeth and claws. She broke free, made a fist and hit me across the face.

The blow destroyed my concentration. I found myself on the ground and staggered back to my feet. Every cell in my body cried out for the sweet repose of that dark crypt beneath us.

It was not Christine's irrational mind I was fighting. I knew that now, nor an earthquake. I didn't know what I was fighting as I threw my will against whatever was down there. I battered at its mindhold with mental fists, fought the urgings of my own body and half my mind. Resist! At least slow your pace. I groaned as I took a step closer to the blackness below. Beads of perspiration started from my forehead. My knees were shaking with the mental strain of trying to pull back. I knew this would be my last effort.

“That's right, Jules,” Christine said beside me. “He's waiting. Go to Him.”

No, that can't be right. I dropped to my knees to stop my forward motion. “Christine, get out of here.” I dug fingers into the dirt to anchor myself. “Get help.”

“I'll help you, Jules.” Her tone was childish. She took my arm and dragged me to my feet. “You tried to help me. I'll help you.”

“Help me do what?” I mumbled dazedly. “Think escape!”

“Yes.” I saw her vacant grin and something inside me went dead. “Yes, Jules, escape from sins. Walk with me. He loves you. Escape from the mortal temptations of all the fallen worlds.” She shoved me toward the pit. I fell and rolled down the slope. “Don't be afraid. He'll welcome you like a redeemed sinner. He asks so little. Really. It's a sin not to obey.”

The mindpower here was like liftoff without grav compensators. “Jesus ChristLotus,” I moaned.

“Yes!” She made the sign of the cross. “The Fathers, the ChristBuddha, the Lord of the Cosmic Dance, and the Loranth.”

“You traitorous bitch!”

The pit seemed to be breathing. Each time it inhaled, my draining strength flowed into it.

Now come to me,
the thing in my mind said.
Come to me, searcher.

“Yes.” It was so simple. So right. Why hadn't I seen it before? The stars burned down on my face as I lay there, with all the wrong constellations for home. I got to my feet and felt my knees tremble, but there was no pain, no sense of exhaustion. I climbed down the ragged pit, though something inside me still beat against the alien hold on my mind. I paused and leaned against wet clods. I had forgotten something. I should be looking for someone. A young girl needed me. She was falling.

A cliff!

The odor of burning leather. I heard myself cry out.

I am waiting,
the intruder in my mind said and the memory snapped away.

“I know.” The stars were a scroll overhead as I descended. And then, not even that.

The pit tunneled darkly through green gloom of phosphorescent moss and white fungi that clung to earthen walls. The low tide smell was strong. My boots sucked through mud and I thought of nightmares where demons are at your back and you can't run.

I steadied myself with a hand against slippery walls while mud clumped between my fingers, and listened to Christine's bare feet splash through puddles behind me. I felt listless, capable of thinking no further than to heed the Loranth's call. All my life's work, my endeavors, goals, were blown leaves. Only the Call gave life design and purpose.

Behind me Christine whispered prayers, her voice rising and falling. Did she pray to her god or to this Master? Was there a difference?

I tried to avoid stepping on a lizard that scurried across the narrow passage. I slipped. Christine took my arm. I threw off her hand, got up and staggered along the tunnel.

A light ahead. Green. A brackish smell. I pictured a swamp, thick gas bubbles bursting from brown water.

There came a chuckle of amusement in my mind, a sense of disdain. The wall beneath my hand shuddered. I gasped as I withdrew it and felt my will balk at surrendering to an alien force.

I turned back and stumbled into Christine. I wanted to run, to claw my way to the surface, to see stars kindle the night bright, to break free of this demon's mindlock!