“Hold off,” ordered Garibaldi.
At least the two Psi Cops were already off the vessel, Talia noticed as she worked her way down the line. She hoped they got waved through the check-in and were long gone, but there was no such luck. When she reached the gate area, she could see the Psi Cops standing patiently to show their identicards to security. There were two more Psi Cops standing beyond the barriers, waiting for them.
Once again, Talia almost bolted, but there was no place to go. She held up her identicard and looked at it, hoping that Brother Lizard had outdone himself when he had chosen Frieda Nelson as her identity. Maybe Frieda was the stay-at-home type who never went anywhere, never had any call to use her real identicard. Maybe the system was not yet wise to there being two Frieda Nelsons. Right, she thought cynically, and maybe she would live to see her next birthday.
Behind her, two men inched forward, straining their necks to see what was happening. They were so close yet so far away, thought Garibaldi. With a few strides, he could touch her—and scare the daylights out of her. Her shoulders were hunched, and she moved as if she had aged ten years. More than anything, he just wanted to wrap his arms around Talia and tell her it was okay. There would be a happy ending.
He only hoped that was true.
The two Psi Cops met their friends, and there were hearty handshakes among gloved hands. To everyone’s relief, they wandered off, apparently not on duty and not particularly interested in their fellow passengers.
Talia swallowed what was left of the saliva in her mouth. She would get through this—she would. The card would work one last time. Somehow, the people in the line in front of her melted away, and she found herself gliding forward in the light gravity, confidently presenting her card to the waiting security guard. The dock area was so much like B5’s dock that it almost felt like home. Home, she thought wistfully. There’s no place like home, except when they take it away from you.
“Thank you,” said the security guard, taking the card from her trembling hand. “Are you all right, miss?”
She sniffled and gripped her hands to her chest. “Yes, just a bit air-sick.”
“I get that way myself,” remarked the guard pleasantly. He ran her card through the slot in his scanning device, and her heart and her breath held perfectly still.
“Hmm,” he said puzzledly. “You are Ms. Frieda Nelson, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
“From Eugene, Oregon?”
“Last time I looked.” She tried to sound disdainful, but she felt as if she was going to be stricken by a heart attack.
“Could you please step to the side for a moment while I finish with these other passengers.” His tone wasn’t so pleasant anymore, but it wasn’t angry either. “There’s an irregularity on your card. These glitches happen.” To make sure she wasn’t going anywhere, he put the card in his pocket.
Talia stood to the side, as ordered, and she wondered if she dared to send him a telepathic suggestion to the effect that her card was really okay. That was the sort of thing Mr. Bester could do with ease. Unfortunately, she felt so shaky and distressed that she didn’t know if she could concentrate well enough to pull it off. Well, nothing ventured nothing gained. Just as she had screwed up her courage to send the guard a message, an outside voice invaded her mind. Very clearly, it stated, “You are among friends. Do not panic.”
Then, a monstrous explosion ripped the building!
Chapter 20
Talia screamed, along with hundreds of others, as she staggered to the floor. She saw a flaming refreshment cart go rolling down the middle of the mall, spewing great clouds of choking, black smoke. The security guard was trying to hold back a panicked line of passengers while yelling into his link, and he wasn’t paying any attention to her. She jumped to her feet and dashed through the smoke.
She bumped hard into a strange man, who wrapped his arms around her. Talia shrieked at his bizarre appearance, but then she realized he was a regular man wearing goggles and a breathing mask. She looked closer and saw his long white hair, like the mane of an old lion, and the devil-may-care smile under the mask.
“Hiya, Talia!” said his muffled voice.
“Uncle Ted,” she gasped, and she dissolved into a coughing fit.
“This gas won’t last forever,” he warned, grabbing her arm and yanking her down the corridor. She staggered after him, her senses overcome by the smoke, shouts, and noise. Then a competing voice sounded in her head.
“Talia!” it called. It was a real voice, yelling above all the others. “Wait for me!”
She pulled away from Uncle Ted and whirled around. A telepathic voice popped into her head, saying, “Do not panic, Talia. It’s Garibaldi and a friend.”
Her uncle regained a grip on her arm and tried to pull her along. “What’s the matter with you!” he growled.
“Stop!” she demanded. “I’m not alone!”
Two men came charging out of the smoke, hands over their mouths, coughing. A Psi Cop rushed by in the other direction, waving his PPG. Uncle Ted drew his own PPG and looked as if he was about to blast Garibaldi and Gray.
“No,” she said, grabbing his arm. “Please wait.”
“I don’t want to shoot them!” He pulled on her arm, but Garibaldi reached her that same moment and started to pull on her free hand. The bare contact sent a shock of distracting intimacies through her mind.
There was no time for greetings or explanations, and Talia knew it. She pulled her hand away and saw the shock of the contact register in Garibaldi’s eyes. “We’ve got to go with my uncle now,” she told Garibaldi. “Don’t speak, just follow.”
“But …”
She let her uncle drag her away, and she barely had time to glance over her shoulder to make sure Garibaldi and Gray were following. They were! As she and Uncle Ted approached a clearing in the smoke, he whipped his mask off and stuck it into the pockets of his greatcoat. As always, she marveled, he was quite a dashing figure. Even in his sixties, he had that handsome boyishness that had always gotten him into trouble. She hoped that she would age that well, although she felt as if she were aging fast at the moment.
Uncle Ted whipped out a cardkey and got them into a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. Talia stopped to hold the door open for Garibaldi and Gray. When the two men tried to talk, she put her fingers to her lips and glared at them. The telepathic message she sent them wasn’t subtle either—it said they could follow or not, but they were not to stop her and Uncle Ted.
Garibaldi followed without question, and Gray looked around like he needed some encouragement. But with the others rushing away from him, he sprinted to catch up. The strange caravan of a dashing figure, a frightened woman, and two confused men swept through a sweltering kitchen where workers were baking doughnuts. The bakers glanced up from their work with minor interest, as if they were prepared for such intrusions.
After they rushed out another door, the group found themselves in a gray, unfinished corridor full of conduits and ducts for ventilation and life support. Uncle Ted suddenly pulled his PPG and pointed it squarely at Garibaldi.
“Honey, I wasn’t expecting you to have friends from Earthforce.”
Garibaldi just tried to ignore him. “Listen, Talia, we caught the real bombers—we all know you’re innocent.”
Talia scowled. “Oh, now you know! And I see what happens when you ‘catch’ someone—shot to pieces all over the sidewalk.” Self-consciously, she pulled on her gloves. Garibaldi’s eyes followed the action with fascination. She turned to Gray. “Are the Psi Cops still after me?”
“Yes,” admitted the telepath.
“Then I’m still running.”
“Please, we’ve got to talk,” begged Garibaldi. “Let us come with you!”
“Out of the question,” declared Uncle Ted.
“If you come with us,” said Talia, “you’ve got to swear that you won’t turn us in.”
“I swear,” he answered. “Besides, I know your Uncle Ted.”
The flamboyant man squinted at him. “From where?”
“Here. It was almost two years ago, and I arrested you for creating a public nuisance, remember? You were railing against the new emigration rule—good speech. I was supposed to rough you up, if you’ll remember, but I let you go with a warning.”
“Yes, yes! Thank you!” beamed Uncle Ted. Then he frowned. “Those were the days when I could still speak in public. So, are you with the movement?”
“Not exactly,” admitted Garibaldi. “But I’m not gonna let your niece out of my sight again. We have to talk somewhere about what to do next, and it might as well be at your place. Right, Gray?”