4
Hume glanced up alertly. There was a bare chance that "Brodie" mighthave witnessed their arrival and might be coming in now to save themall a great amount of time and trouble by acting the overjoyed,rescued castaway.
But he could sight nothing at all in that direction to excite anyattention. The distant mountains provided a stark, dark bluebackground. Up their foothills and lower slopes was a thick furringof trees with foliage of so deep a green as to register black fromthis distance. And on the level country was the lighter blue-green ofthe other variety of wood edging the open country about the river. Inthere rested the L-B.
"I don't see anything!" he snapped, so sharply the little man staredat him in open surprise. Hume forced a quick smile.
"Just what did you sight, Gentlehomo Starns? There is no large game inthe woodlands."
"This was not an animal, Hunter. Rather a flash of light, just aboutthere." Again he pointed.
Sun, Hume thought, could have been reflected from some portion of theL-B. He had believed that small spacer so covered with vines andringed in by trees that it could not have been so sighted. But a stormmight have disposed of some of nature's cloaking. If so Starns'interest must be fed, he would make an ideal discoverer.
"Odd." Hume produced his distance glasses. "Just where, Gentlehomo?"
"There." Starns obligingly pointed a third time.
If there had been anything to see it was gone now. But it did lie inthe right direction. For a second or two Hume was uneasy. Thingsseemed to be working too well; his cynical distrust was triggered byfitting so smoothly.
"Might be the sun," he observed.
"Reflected from some object you mean, Hunter? But the flash was verybright. And there could be no mirror surface in there, surely therecould not be?"
Yes, things were moving too fast. Hume might be overly cautious but hewas determined that no hint of any pre-knowledge of the L-B must evercome to these civs. When they would find the Largo Drift's life boatand locate Brodie, there would be a legal snarl. The castaway'sidentity would be challenged by a half dozen distant and unlovingrelatives, and there would be an intense inquiry. These civs must bethe impartial witnesses.
"No, I hardly believe in a mirror in an uninhabited forest,Gentlehomo," he chuckled. "But we are on a hunting planet and not allits life forms have yet been classified."
"You are thinking of an intelligent native race, Hunter?" Chambriss,the most demanding of the civ party, strode up to join them.
Hume shook his head. "No native intelligence on a hunting world,Gentlehomo. That is assured before the planet is listed for a safari.However, a bird or flying thing, perhaps with metallic plumage orscales to catch the sunlight, might under the right circumstances seema flash of light. That has happened before."
"It was _very_ bright," Starns said doubtfully. "We might look overthere later."
"Nonsense!" Chambriss spoke briskly as one used to overriding theconflicting wishes in any company. "I came here for a water-cat, and awater-cat I'm going to have. You don't find those in wooded areas."
"There will be a schedule," Hume announced. "Each of you has signedup, according to contract, for a different trophy. You for awater-cat, Gentlehomo. And you, Gentlehomo Starns, want to maketri-dees of the pit-dragons. While Gentlehomo Yactisi wishes to tryelecto fishing in the deep holes. To alternate days is the fair way.And, who knows, each of you may discover your own choice near theother man's stake out."
"You are quite right, Hunter," Starns nodded. "And since my twocolleagues have chosen to try for a water creature, perhaps we shouldstart along the river."
It was two days, then, before they could work their way into thewoods. One part of Hume protested, the more cautious section of hismind was appeased. He saw, beyond the three clients now turning overand sorting space bags, Wass' man glanced at the woods and then backto Starns. And, being acutely aware of all undercurrents here, Humewondered what the small civ had actually seen.
The camp was complete, a cluster of seven bubble tents not too farfrom the ship. At least this crowd did not appear to consider that theHunter was there to do all the serious moving and storing of supplies.All three of the clients pitched in to help, and Wass' man went downto the river to return with half a dozen silver-fins cleaned andthreaded on a reed, ready to broil over the cook unit.
A fire in the night was not needed except to afford the proper stagesetting. But it was enjoyed. Hume leaned forward to feed the flames,and Starns pushed some lengths of driftwood closer.
"You have said, Hunter, that hunting worlds never contain intelligentnative life. Unless the planet is minutely explored how can yoursurvey teams be sure of that fact?" His voice bordered on thepedantic, but his interest was plain.
"By using the verifier." Hume sat crosslegged, his plasta-hand restingon one knee. "Fifty years ago, we would have had to keep rather alengthy watch to be sure of a free world. Now, we plant verifiers atsuitable test points. Intelligence means mental activity of somesort--any of which would be recorded on the verifier."
"Amazing!" Starns extended his plump hands to the flames in theimmemorial gesture of a human attracted not only to the warmth of theburning wood, but to its promise of security against the forces of thedark. "No matter how few, or how scattered your native thinkers maybe, you record them without missing any?"
Hume shrugged. "Maybe one or two," he grinned, "might get through sucha screening. But we have yet to discover a planet with such a sparsenative life as that at the level of intelligence."
Yactisi juggled a cup in and out of the firelight. "I agree, this ismost interesting." He was a thin man, with scanty drab gray hair anddark skin, perhaps the result of the mingling of several human races.His eyes were slightly sunken, so that it was difficult in this lightto read their expression. He was, Hume had already decided, a classone brain and observant to a degree, which could either be a help or amenace. "There have been no cases of failure?"
"None reported," Hume returned. All his life he had relied on machinesoperating, of course, under the competent domination of men trained touse them properly. He understood the process of the verifier, had seenit at work. At the Guild Headquarters there were no records of itsfailure; he was willing to believe it was infallible.
"A race residing in the sea now--could you be sure your machine woulddiscover its presence?" Starns continued to question.
Hume laughed. "Not to be found on Jumala, you may be sure of that--theseas here are small and shallow. Such, not to be picked up by theverifier, would have to exist at great depths and never venture onland. So we need not fear any surprises here. The Guild takes nochances."
"As it always continues to assure one," Yactisi replied. "The hourgrows late. I wish you rewarding dreams." He arose to go to his ownbubble tent.
"Yes, indeed!" Starns blinked at the fire and then scrambled up inturn. "We hunt along the river, then, tomorrow?"
"For water-cat," Hume agreed. Of the three, he believed Chambriss themost impatient. Might as well let him pot his trophy as soon aspossible. The ex-pilot deduced there would be little cooperation inexploration from that client until he was satisfied in his own quest.
Rovald, Wass' man, lingered by the fire until the three civs were safein their bubbles.
"River range tomorrow?" he asked.
"Yes. We can't rush the deal."
"Agreed." Rovald spoke with a curtness he did not use when the civswere present. "Only don't delay too long. Remember, our boy's roamingaround out there. He might just be picked off by something beforethese stumble-footed civs catch up with him."
"That's the chance we knew we'd have to take. We don't dare raise anysuspicion. Yactisi, for one, is no fool, neither is Starns. Chambrissjust wants to get his water-cat, but he could become nasty if anyonetried to steer him."
"Too long a wait might run us into trouble. Wass doesn't liketrouble."
Hume spun around. In the half light of the fire his features were set,his mouth grim. "Neither do I, Rovald, neith
er do I!" he said softly,but with an icy promise beneath the words.
Rovald was not to be intimidated. He grinned. "Set your fins down,fly-boy. You need Wass--and I'm here to hold his stakes for him. Thisis a big deal, we won't want any misses!"
"There won't be any--not from my side." Hume stepped away from thefire, approached a post which gleamed with a dull, red line of firedown either side. He pressed a control button. That red line flaredinto a streak of brilliance. Now encircling the bubble tents and thespace ship was a force field: routine protection of a safari camp on astrange world and one Hume had set as a matter of course.
He stood for a long moment staring through that invisible barriertoward the direction of the wood. It was a dark night, there werescudding clouds to hide the stars, which meant rain probably beforemorning. This was no time to be plagued by uncertain weather.
Somewhere out there Brodie was holed up. He hoped the boy had long agoreached the "camp" so carefully erected and left for his occupancy.The L-B, that stone covered "grave" showing signs of several years'occupancy, was all assembled and constructed to the last small detail.Far less might have deceived the civs in this safari. But as soon asthe story of their find leaked, there would be others on the scene,men trained to assess the signs of a castaway's fight for survival.His own Guild training and the ability of Wass' renegade techs shouldbring them through that test.
What had Starns seen? The glint of sun on the tail of the L-B, tiltednow to the sky? Hume walked slowly back to the fire, when he sawRovald going up the ramp into the spacer. He smiled. Did Wass think hewas stupid enough not to guess that the Veep's man would be in comtouch with his employer? Rovald was about to report along some channelof the shadow world that they had landed and that the play was aboutto begin. Hume wondered idly how far and through how many relays thatmessage would pass before it reached its destination.
He stretched and yawned, moving to his sleeping pad. Tomorrow theymust find Chambriss a water-cat. Hume shoved Brodie into the back ofhis mind to center his thoughts on the various ways of delivering, tothe waiting sportsman, a fair-sized alien feline.
The lights in the bubbles went out one by one. Within the circlebarrier of the force field men slept. And by midnight the rain beganto fall, streaming down the sides of the bubbles, soaking the ashes ofthe fire.
Out of the dark crept that which was not thought, not substance, butalien to the off-world men. But the barrier, meant to determulti-footed creatures, with wings or no visible limbs at all, provedto be a better protection than its creators had hoped. There was nopenetration--only a baffled butting of one force against another. Andthen the probe withdrew as undetected as it had come.
Only, the thing which had no intelligence, as humankind ratedintelligence, did possess the ability to fathom the nature of thatartificial barrier. The force field was examined, its nature digested.First approach had failed. The second was now ready--ready as it hadnot been months before when the first coming of these creatures hadalerted the very ancient watchdog on Jumala.
Deep in the darker woods on the mountain sides there was a stirring.Things whimpered in their sleep, protested subconsciously commandsthey could never understand, only obey. With the coming of dawn therewould be a marshaling of hosts, a new assault--not on the camp, but onany leaving its protection. And also on the boy now sleeping in ashallow cave formed by the swept roots of a tree--a tree which hadcrashed when the L-B landed.
Again, fortune favored Hume. With the dawn the rain was over. Therewas a cloudy sky overhead, but he believed the day would clear. Theroily, rushing water of the river would aid Chambriss' quest.Water-cats holed up in the banks, but rising water often forced themout of such dens. A course parallel to the stream bed could well showthem the tracks of one of the felines.
They started off in a group, Hume leading, with Chambriss treadingbriskly behind him, Rovald bringing up the rear in the approved trailtechnique. Chambriss carried a needler, Starns was unarmed except fora small protection stunner, his tri-dee box slung on his chest bywell-worn carrying straps. Yactisi shouldered an electric pole, woreits control belt buckled about his middle, though Hume had warned himthat the storm would prevent any deep hole fishing.
Only a short distance from the campsite they came upon theunmistakable marks of a water-cat's broad paws, pressed in so heavyand distinct a pattern that Hume knew the animal could not be farahead. The indentations were deep, and he measured the distancebetween them with the length of his hand.
"Big one!" Chambriss exclaimed in satisfaction. "Going away from theriver, too."
That point puzzled Hume slightly. The red coated felines might bewashed out of their burrows, but they did not willingly head sosharply away from the water. He squatted on his heels and surveyed thestretch of countryside between them and the distant wood with care.
The grass was this season's, still growing, not tall enough to affordcover for an animal with paws as large as these prints. There were twoclumps of brush. It could have holed up in either, waiting to attackany trailer--but why? It had not been wounded, nor frightened by theirparty, there was no reason for it to set an ambush on its back trail.
Starns and Yactisi dropped back, though Starns was fussing with histri-dee. Rovald caught up. He had drawn his ray tube in answer toHume's hand wave. Any action foreign to the regular habits of ananimal was to be mistrusted.
Getting to his feet Hume paced along the line of marks. They werefresh--hot fresh. And they still led in a straight line for the woods.With another wave of his hand he stopped Chambriss. The civ wastrained in spite of his eagerness and obeyed. Hume left the tracks,made a detour which brought him to a point from which he could studythose clumps of brush. No sign except that line of prints pointed tothe woods. And if the party kept on, they might well come upon theL-B!
He decided to risk it. But when they were less than a couple of yardsfrom the tree fringe his hand shot up to direct Chambriss to firetowards the quivering bush.
Only, that formless half seen thing, hardly to be distinguished incolor from the vegetation, was no water-cat. There was a thin, raggedcry. Then the creature plunged backward, was gone.
"What in the name of nine Gods was that?" Chambriss demanded.
"I don't know." Hume went forward, jerked the needler dart from a treetrunk. "But don't shoot again--not unless you are sure of what you areaiming at!"