The Last Atonian

Chapter 9:

"You're joking," Xander complained. "You absolutely, positively have to be joking. All this, and we can't even get through?"

Xander and Suzan had somehow worked out a way for Xander to hold the unconscious Yulia without their skin touching, and he'd carried her through the halls as the siblings had searched for the flight bay. Unfortunately, they had found it—and the reason for Xander's dismay was the lock on the door. "We need one of the slavers' eye pattern," Suzan explained. "Probably Rulon's. Otherwise, we're not getting a ship and we're not getting out of here."

Xander would have punched the wall if his arms hadn't been full with Yulia. "We're dead," he moaned.

"Not necessarily." A mischievous sparkle entered Suzan's eyes. "It's said that Veerna's shapeshifting abilities can copy everything from fingerprints to mind signatures ... and eye patterns."

"We left her in the branding room!" Xander cried in a barely-restrained voice.

Suzan patted the top of her brother's head. It was one of her weird and annoying habits that drove Xander nuts. "Then we'll just have to get her out," she said matter-of-factly. "You've got a gun, and I've got ... wires. We're not totally defenseless, big brother. After all, we're members of the Federation, remember?"

Xander heaved a sigh. This whole business was spinning far beyond his control, and he didn't feel comfortable asking Veerna for help. The two of them did not have a good relationship. Unfortunately, since he really didn't see Rulon lending them his eye pattern to escape, Veerna was their only viable option. "Okay," he said. "Let's go and save that space pirate."

. . . . . . . . . .

Don and Melody pressed themselves against the wall, hardly daring to breathe as a patrol walked past them. The young doctor was trembling against Don's arm, and it occurred to him for the first time that she had never done anything so dangerous before. The fact that he hadn't either failed to enter his mind, and he squeezed Melody's hand reassuringly.

The patrol passed by without seeing them, but they waited for several minutes until they were sure the men were gone. Finally, they relaxed and Don released Melody's hand. "Hopefully, we'll find them soon," she whispered. "I can't imagine what they're doing to poor Chris ..."

Don said nothing, unable to reassure her. Ear-piercing shrieks interrupted them, and Melody jumped, instinctively snatching Don's hand again. The psychologist grimaced at both the blood-curling screams and the intensity with which Melody was clinging to him. "We follow the screams," he decided. "Come on, Melody."

At some point, he'd stopped referring to her as "Doctor Chase" and now just called her Melody. The other doctor still insisted on calling him Doctor Collego, though, and he wasn't sure why. They continued through the dark and gloomy metal hallways, Don's loafers making muted thuds against the floor. Melody's boots sounded even louder to his overworked mind.

The screams stopped as suddenly as they had come. Melody's wide eyes met Don's, but he motioned for silence. In his mind, he pictured the screams and followed them through the halls, turning when he wanted to and going straight on other paths. Others would have been disoriented, but he had a single need fixated in his mind. For some reason, the desire to find the person who had screamed in such agony was becoming almost an obsession in his mind.

Their path took them around for more than ten minutes, until finally Don put up his hand, stopping Melody in her tracks. "In there," he whispered, pointing at the door before them. Melody's wide eyes looked at him, and she said nothing. He motioned for her to stay there and crept towards the door. However, to his severe annoyance and displeasure, the girl followed him.