Hub 1 Telzey Amberdon by James H Schmitz

Author:James H Schmitz [Schmitz, James H]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-05-24T09:15:35.514000+00:00

Chapter 1

Telzey was about to sit down for a snack in her bungalow before evening classes

when the ring she'd worn on her left forefinger for the past week gave her a sting.

It was a fairly emphatic sting. Emphatic enough to have brought her out of a

sound sleep if she'd happened to be sleeping. She grimaced, pulled off the ring,

rubbed her finger, slipped the ring back on, went to the ComWeb and tapped a

button.

Elsewhere on the grounds of Pehanron College several other ComWebs started

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burring a special signal. One or the other of them would now be switched on, and

somebody would listen to what she had to say. She'd become used to that; the

realization didn't disturb her.

What she said to her course computer was, "This is Telzey Amberdon. Cancel me

for both classes tonight."

The computer acknowledged. Winter rains had been pounding against

Pehanron's weather shields throughout the day. Telzey got into boots, long coat

and gloves, wrapped a scarf around her head, and went out to the carport at the

back of the bungalow. A few minutes later, her car slid out of Pehanron's main

gate, switched on its fog beams and arrowed up into a howling storm.

Somebody would be following her through the dark sky. She'd got used to that,

too.

She went into a public ComWeb booth not long after leaving the college and

dialed a number. The screen lit up and a face appeared.

"Hello, Klayung," she said. "I got your signal. I'm calling from Beale."

"I know," said Klayung. He was an executive of the Psychology Service, old,

stringy, mild-mannered. "Leave the booth, turn left, walk down to the corner.

There's a car waiting."

"All right," Telzey said. "Anything else?"

"Not till I see you."

It was raining as hard on Beale as on Pehanron, and this section of the town had

no weather shielding. Head bent, Telzey ran down the street to the corner. The

door to the back compartment of a big aircar standing there opened as she came

up. She slipped inside. The door closed.

Clouds blotted out the lights of Beale below as she was fishing tissues from her

purse to dry her face. The big car was a space job though it didn't look like one.

She could see the driver silhouetted beyond the partition. They were alone in the

car.

She directed a mental tap at the driver, touched a mind shield, standard

Psychology Service type. There was no flicker of response or recognition, so he

was no psi-operator.

Telzey settled back on the seat. Life had become a rather complicated business

these days. She'd reported her experiences in Melna Park to the Psychology

Service, which, among other things, handled problems connected with psi and

did it quietly to avoid disturbing the public. The Service people went to work on

the information she could give them. While she waited for results from that

quarter, she had some matters to take care of herself.

Until now, her psi armament had seemed adequate. She should be able to wind

up her law studies at Pehanron in another year, and she'd intended to wait

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