“This is where it all began for me,” mused Mr. Gray. “About a week and a half ago, I got off this flight, and Mr. Bester was there waiting for me.”
“Well, let’s hope there’s not a repeat of that,” muttered Garibaldi.
They heard a heavy clanging and a thud as the air-lock mechanism latched on to the ship’s hull. Everyone else heard it, too, and they rose from their seats in unison, ready to bolt from the transport as quickly as possible.
“Welcome to Mars,” said a synthesized voice. “The time is 13:11, and the temperature is 379 degrees Celsius. It is hot and dry. Please watch your step as Mars has thirty-eight percent of the gravity of Earth.”
The people in Talia’s row began to file out, but she hung back, stricken with fear. She knew her identicard was going to get her arrested, and she couldn’t go through that again! Not the lights, the accusations, the raised fists, and the angry shouts from people who wanted to punish her’ Talia’s heart was starting to do flip-flops in her rib cage, and she couldn’t make her legs move. She felt ill, physically ill. Come on, she told herself, you’ve felt ill for days now. If this is the end of the race, then so be it. Face it like a woman.
For a moment, Garibaldi got excited, thinking that Talia would hang back in the cabin long enough for him and Gray to approach her there. But she suddenly got a determined look on her face and leaped from her seat, inserting herself forcefully into the herd of passengers moving toward the hatch. With maybe twenty people between them, be and Gray had to push and shove just to keep up. Even then, Talia’s lithe body moved through the crowd faster than they could.
“She’s getting away!” whispered Garibaldi.
“I can always send her a message,” said Gray, “as long as she’s in my line of sight.”
“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.