8
A subdued but steady light all around him issued from stark graywalls. He lay on his back in an empty cell-room. And he'd better be onthe move before Darfu comes to enforce a rising order with a powerfulkick or one of these backhanded blows which the Salarkian used toreduce most humans to helpless obedience.
Vye blinked again. But this wasn't his cubby hole at the Starfall, hisnose as well as his eyes told him that. There was no hint ofuncleanliness or corruption here. He sat up stiffly, looked down athis own body in dull wonder. The only covering on his bare, brown selfwas a wide, scaled belt and a loin cloth. Clumsy sandals shod hisfeet, and his legs, up to thigh level, were striped with healingscratches and blotched with bruises.
Painfully, with mental processes as stiff as his arms and his legs, hetried to think back. Sluggishly, memory associated one picture withanother.
Last night--or yesterday--Rynch Brodie had been locked in here. And"here" was one of the storage compartments of a spacer belonging to aman named Wass. It had been Wass' pilot in the flitter which snakedthem from the river islet where the monsters had besieged them.
This was a concealed, fortified camp--Wass' hideout. And he was aprisoner with a very uncertain future, depending upon the will of theVeep and a man named Hume.
Hume, the Out-Hunter, had shown no surprise when Wass stood up in thelamplight to greet the rescued. "I see you have been hunting." Hiseyes had moved from Hume to Rynch and back again.
"Yes--but that does not matter!" the Hunter had returned impatiently.
"No? Then what does?"
"This is not a free world, I have to report that. Get my civs offplanet before something happens to them!"
"I thought all safari worlds were certified as free," Wass countered.
"This one isn't. I don't know how or why. But that fact has to bereported and the civs lifted--"
"Not so fast." Wass' voice had been quiet, almost gentle. "Such areport would interest the Patrol, would it not?"
"Of course--" Hume began and then stopped abruptly.
Wass smiled. "You see--complications already. I do not wish to explainanything to the Patrol. Nor do you either, my young friend, not whenyou stop to think about what might result from such explanations."
"There wouldn't have been any trouble if you'd kept away from Jumala."Hume's control had returned; both voice and manner were under tightrein. "Weren't Rovald's reports explicit enough to satisfy you?"
"I have risked a great deal on this project," Wass replied. "Also, itis well from time to time for a Veep to check upon his fieldoperatives. Men do not grow careless when personal supervision is everin mind. And it is well that I did arrive here, is it not, Hunter? Orwould you have preferred remaining on that island? Whether any of ourproject may be salvaged is a point we must consider. But for themoment we make no moves. No, Hume, your civs will have to take theirchances for a time."
"And if there is trouble?" Hume challenged him. "A report of an alienattack will bring in the Patrol quickly enough."
"You forget Rovald," Wass corrected. "The chance that one of your civscan activate and transmit from the spacer is remote, and Rovald willsee that it is impossible. You have picked up Brodie, I see."
"Yes."
"No!" What had possessed him at that moment to contradict? He hadrealized the folly of his outburst the moment Wass had looked at him.
"This becomes more interesting," the Veep had remarked with thatdeceptive gentleness. "You are Rynch Brodie, castaway from the LargoDrift, are you not? I trust that Out-Hunter Hume has made plain to youour concern with your welfare, Gentlehomo Brodie."
"I'm not Brodie." Having taken the leap into the dangerous truth hewas stubborn enough to continue swimming.
"I find this enlightening indeed. If you are not Brodie--then who areyou?"
That had been it. At that moment he couldn't have told Wass who hewas, explain that his patchwork of memories had gaping holes.
"And you, Out-Hunter," Wass' reptilian regard had moved again to Hume,"perhaps you have an adequate explanation for this discovery."
"None of his doing," he burst out, "I remembered--"
Some inexplicable emotion made Rynch defend Hume then.
Hume laughed, and there was a reckless edge to that sound. "Yes, Wass,your techs are not as good as they pretend to be. He didn't follow thepattern of action they set for him."
"A pity. But there are always errors when one deals with the humanfactor. Peake!" One of the other three men moved towards them. "Youwill escort this young man to the spacer, see him safely stowed forthe present. Yes, a pity. Now we must see just how much can besalvaged."
Then Vye had been brought into the shop, supplied with a rationcontainer, and left to himself within this bare-walled cabin tomeditate upon the folly of talking too freely. Why had he been soutterly stupid? Veeps of Wass' calibre did not swim through the murkychannels of the Starfall, but their general breed had smaller but justas vicious representatives there, and he knew the man for what he was,ruthless, powerful and thorough.
A sound, slight, but easily heard in the silent vacuum of the storagecabin, alerted him. The crack of the sliding panel door opened and Vyecrouched, his hand cupping the only possible weapon, the rationcontainer. Hume edged through, shut the door behind him. He stoodthere, his head turned so his ear rested against the wall; obviouslyhe was listening.
"You brain-smoothed idiot!" The Hunter's voice was a thread ofwhisper. "Why couldn't you have kept that swinging jaw of yours closedlast night? Now listen and listen good. This is a slim try, but it'sone we have to take."
"We?" Vye was startled into asking.
"Yes, we! By rights I ought to leave you right here to do the rest ofyour big, brave speechmaking for Wass' benefit. If I didn't need you,that's just what I would do! If it weren't for those civs--" His headsnapped back, cheek to panel, he was listening again. After a longmoment his whisper came once more. "I don't have time to repeat this.In about five minutes Peake'll be here with rations. I'll leave thisdoor unlatched. There's another storage cabin across the corridor--seeif you can hide there, then trick him into getting in here and lockhim in. Got it?"
Vye nodded.
"Then--make for the exit port. Here." He snapped a packet loose fromhis belt. "This is a flare pak, you saw how they worked on the island.When you get on the ramp beyond the atom lamp, throw this. It shouldhit the camp force barrier. And the result ought to hold theirattention. Then you head for the flitter. Understand?"
"Yes."
The flitter, yes, that was the perfect escape. With a camp forcebarrier on, any fugitive could only break out by going straight up.
Hume gazed at him soberly, listened once more, and then went. Vyecounted a slow five before he followed. The cabin across the corridorwas open, just as Hume had promised. He slipped inside, waited.
Peake was coming now, the metallic plates on his spaceboots clickingin regular pattern of sound. He earned another ration container andcrooked it in his arm as he snapped up the lock bar on the othercabin.
There was an exclamation of surprise. Vye went into action. His hand,backed by all the strength of his thrusting arm, thumped betweenPeake's shoulders, sending him staggering into the prison compartment.Before the other could recover either his balance or his wits, Vye hadthe panel shut, the bar locked into place.
He ran down the corridor to the well ladder, swung down its rungs withan agility born of necessity. Then he was in the air lock, getting hisbearings. The flitter stood to his left, the flashing atom lamp, wherethe men were gathered, to his right.
Vye stepped out on the ramp. He wiped his sweating hand across histhigh. There had to be no failures in the tossing of the flare pak.
Choosing a spot, not directly in line with the lamp but near enough todazzle the men, he hurled it with all the force he could muster. Thenhe was running down the ramp, forward to the area of the ship.
There was a flash--shouting--Vye curbed the impulse to look back,darted for the flitter. He
jerked open the cabin compartment,scrambled into the cramped space behind the pilot's seat, leaving thatfree for Hume's quick entrance. More shouting--now he saw the lines offire wavering from earth to sky along the barrier.
A black shape put on a burst of speed, was silhouetted against thatflaming wall, then passed the spacer, grabbed at the open cockpit, andslid in behind the controls. Hume pulled the levers with flyingfingers. They arose vertically at a pace which practically slappedVye's stomach up into the lower regions of his throat.
The searing line of at least one blaster reached after them--tooslowly, too low. He heard Hume grunt, and they again leaped higher.Then the Hunter spoke:
"Half an hour at the most--"
"The safari camp?
"Yes."
They no longer climbed. The flitter was boring forwards on aprojectile flight, into the dark of the night.
"What're those?" Vye suddenly leaned forward.
Had some of the stars across the space void broken free from theirfixed orbits? Flecks of light, moving in an arc, headed towards thespeeding flitter.
Hume hit a button. Again they arose in a violent leap above thosewandering lights. But ahead on this new level more such dots flocked,moving fast to close in on the flyer.
"A straight ram course," Hume muttered, more to himself than Vye.
Again the flyer drove forward in a rising thrust of speed. Then thesmooth purr of the propulsion unit faltered, broke into protestingcoughs. Hume worked over the controls, beads of sweat showing on hisforehead and cheek in the gleam of the cabin light.
"Deading--deading out!"
He brought the flitter around in a wide circle, the purr smoothed outonce more in a steady reassuring beat.
"Out run them!"
But Vye feared they were back again on the losing side of a strugglewith the unknown alien power. As they had been herded along the river,so now they were being pushed across the sky, towards the mountains.The enemy had followed them aloft!
Some core of stubborn will in Hume would not yet allow him to admitthat. Time and time again he climbed higher--always to meet climbing,twisting, spurting lines of lights which reacted on the engine of theflitter and threatened it with complete failure.
Where they were now in relation to Wass' camp or that of the safari,Vye had no idea, and he guessed that Hume could not be too certain.
Hume switched on the flitter's com unit, tried a channel search untilhe picked up a click of signal--the automatic reply of the safaricamp. His fingertip beat out in return the danger warning, then theseries of code sounds to give an edited version of what must beguarded against.
"Wass has a man in your camp. His skin is in just as much danger asthe rest. He may not relay it to the Patrol, but he'll keep the forcebarrier up and the civs inside--anything else would be maliciousneglect and a murder charge when the Guild check tape goes in. Thiscall is on the spacer tape now and will be a part of that--he can'tpossibly alter such a report and he knows it. This is the best we cando now--"
"We're close to the mountains, aren't we?"
"Do you know much about this part of the country?" Vye persisted.Hume's knowledge might be their only hope.
"Flew over the range twice. Nothing to see."
"But there has to be something there."
"If there is, it didn't show up during our survey." Hume's voice wasdull with fatigue.
"You're a Guild man, you've dealt with alien life forms before--"
"The Guild doesn't deal with intelligent aliens. That's X-Tee Patrolbusiness. We don't land on any planet with unknown intelligent lifeforms. Why should we court trouble--couldn't run a safari in underthose conditions. X-Tee certified Jumala as a wild world, our surveyconfirmed that."
"Someone or something landed here after you left?"
"I don't believe so. This is too well organized an action. And sincewe have a satellite guard in space, any ship landing would be tapedand recorded. No such record appeared on the Guild screens. One smallspacer--such as Wass'--could slip through by knowing procedure--justas he did. But to land all those beasts and equipment they'd need aregular transport. No--this must be native." Hume leaned forwardagain, flipped a switch.
A small red light answered on the central board.
"Radar warn-off," he explained.
So they wouldn't end up smeared against some cliff face anyway. Whichwas only small comfort amid terrifying possibilities.
Hume had taken the precaution just in time. The light blinked faster,and the speed of the flyer was checked as the automatic controltriggered by the warn-off came into command. Hume's hands were stillon the board, but a system of relays put safety devices into actionwith a speed past that which a human pilot could initiate.
They were descending and had to accept that, since the warn-off,operating for the sake of the passengers, had ruled that move best.The directive would glide the flitter to the best available landing.It was only moments before the shock gear did touch surface. Then theengine was silent.
"This is it," Hume observed.
"What do we do now?" Vye wanted to know.
"Wait--"
"Wait! For what?"
Hume consulted his planet-time watch in the light of the cabin.
"We have about an hour until dawn--if dawn arrives here at the sametime it does in the plains. I don't propose to go out blindly in thedark."
Which made sense. Except that to sit here, quietly, in their crampedquarters, not knowing what might be waiting outside, was an ordeal Vyefound increasingly harder to bear. Maybe Hume guessed his discomfort,maybe he was following routine procedure. But he turned, thumbed openone of the side panels in Vye's compartment, and dug out the emergencysupplies.