"Deliveries arereceived around the corner."
"I know," Don told him. "I'm from the Kor-en. I'd like to seeKorentona."
The man frowned fleetingly. "Tell you," he said casually, "maybe itwould be better if you made your delivery right now. Then you can comeback later on."
Don examined him for a moment. "You mean something is----"
"That's right." The man nodded. "Go around to the receiving room. Dropyour pack, and come back--say in about an hour." He glanced upward asfootsteps sounded on the stairs.
"Oh, oh," he added softly. "Keep quiet and let me handle this."
A heavy-set man came down the stairs. He looked sharply at Don, takingin his appearance and the details of his pack.
"What's this, Mora?" he demanded.
The timekeeper shrugged casually. "Just some porter," he saidnegligently. "Can't read too well, I guess. Got in the wrong door. Iwas telling him where to drop his pack."
"Oh?" The other looked at Don more closely. "Looks like another load ofthose mats from the Morek. Look, Fellow, you wouldn't be from one ofthose clans, would you now?"
Don shook his head. "I am Kalo," he said, "of the mountains. I have noclan. I make mats. And twice a year I come here to Riandar to sellthem."
"Been here before?"
"I have been in Riandar many times."
"That's not what I mean. Have you been here--to this store--before?"
Don shook his head. "Not to this store, no. But they told me the BlueMountain was paying better than some others. I thought I'd try----"
"Yeah," the other said coldly. "Sure. Now, suppose we take a littlewalk, you and I? Some people down the street would like to talk toyou."
Don shook his head. "I merely came here to sell mats," he insisted. "Imake good mats."
The heavy man frowned. "Maybe," he snapped. "We'll see about that afterwe've had a talk with you." He stepped closer. "If you're just a matmaker, nothing will happen to you. If you really have good mats, youmight even get a nice price for some of your stuff. Come on."
He reached out to take Don's sleeve. Don stepped back, his facesuddenly losing its vague, apologetic expression. His featuressharpened, to become hard, uncompromising.
"Get over to that wall, Fellow," he ordered sharply. "Move!"
The man's hand dropped. For a moment, he stared slackly at Don.
"Come on!" Don's voice raised a little. "Get over to that wall. Andthen stand still." He started to shuck off the straps of his pack.
The man before him sobbed helplessly, then shuffled away. Don kneltdown and stripped the pack off. Then he stepped aside and raised a handin a beckoning gesture.
"Now get over here," he snapped. "Pick up that pack and take it up toMr. Tona's office. I'll follow you."
The man in the cubby rubbed his head for a moment, then picked up thephone. Don swung toward him. "Put that phone back," he ordered, "andcome out of there. You're coming with us."
* * * * *
Korentona looked up as the small procession entered his office.
"What's happened now?"
Don nodded at him, then faced the man with the pack.
"Put that pack down," he commanded. "Now, stand over there." Hepointed. "And be very quiet." He glanced at the doorman.
"You can stay where you are." He looked at Korentona.
"My apologies," he said, "for being so informal. But I come from theKor-en, and I had a little trouble. There's a message for you in thepack. You know, of course, where to find it. Who are these two?"
Korentona looked worried. "This one," he pointed at the doorman, "is atrusted employee. He's been with me for years."
He paused, looking at the other man. "But this one, I have nevertrusted. I'm sure he reports to the police."
Don glanced at the doorman. "My apologies," he said. "You are free togo as you will." He looked closely at the other.
"Is this correct?" he demanded. "Are you a police agent?"
The man nodded. "That's right," he said reluctantly. "I'm supposed towatch this place and report on its visitors."
"Here," Don told him, "is one visitor you won't report." He stopped,considering, then impaled the man with a cold stare.
"Have you ever seen a man bitten by a gersal?"
The man shrugged. "Yeah. What about it?"
Don nodded. "You will remember that scene," he said. "Do you rememberthat man's struggles? Do you remember the animal, chewing at him,injecting its poison? Do you remember this man dropping, first to hisknees, then to his back? Do you remember----"
"Hey!" protested the other. His hands came up before his face.
"Put those hands down," snapped Don. "And listen closely. I want you tohave full recall on this. You remember this man who was bitten, how hesobbed for breath--how his legs stretched out and his back arched, tillthe muscles tore from the bones with their effort. You remember allthis?"
The man nodded wordlessly, his fascinated stare fixed on Don's face.
"Then I want you to fix this in your mind," Don told him. "Should yoube so unwise as to attempt to mention any of these things that havehappened since you came down those stairs--should you even allow yourmemory to dwell on these things for too long--these are the things thatwill happen to you.
"You will sink to your knees. Your muscles will be unable to supportyou, and you will fall to your back. You will find it impossible tobreathe, for the muscles of your chest will distend the ribs. And inyour struggles, you will break bones. And you will tear your body tobits. Do you understand this?"
The man sagged against the wall, panting. He managed a nod.
"Then forget about this afternoon," commanded Don. "Go about yourbusiness in normal fashion. And forget about this afternoon. Nothinghappened that was worthy of note." He waved a hand in dismissal, thenturned to Korentona.
"I don't want to go into a lot of detail," he said. "As I said, there'sa detailed message in the pack. I'll wait for you to read it." Heglanced down at his clothing.
"I'd like a place, though, where I can clean up. And I could use someother clothes, if you don't mind."
* * * * *
When he came back to the office, Korentona waved him to a chair.
"So," he said musingly, "they were right. You did go to the clans foraid." He smiled.
"The police have been keeping close watch on everyone in the city whomight have even a remote connection with the hill clans. And they'rereally keeping an eye on the Waern home. You're going to have a nicetime getting in there."
Don nodded. "I expected some trouble. Do you know whether they've doneany searching?"
Korentona shrugged. "I don't run an investigative agency," he said witha smile, "so I don't know everything that's going on. But I've heardthere've been lights on up there nearly every night. And they've hadcrowds of people around the place. Not so much activity the last coupleof days, though. They're just watching."
"I see," Don nodded. "Wonder if they've found what they were lookingfor?"
The other shook his head, "Doubt it," he said. "If they had, they'drelax. Now that I know what it's all about, I can figure out what I'veheard. They'll take off the watch as soon as they find that book, Ithink.
"Oh, of course, they still want you," he added. "And they'd like to gettheir hands on the Waernu. But they wouldn't be frantic about it ifthey weren't worried about the outcome of a conclave."
"No," agreed Don. "I guess they wouldn't, at that."
He stretched. "Well, guess I'd better get on my way. I've got to getinto that house somehow. Think I'll take a wander out there and see ifI can get some ideas."
The merchant put up a detaining hand. "Take it slow," he advised. "Youcan't go up there tonight."
"Oh?"
"No. It wouldn't be wise at all. There are a bunch of young fellowsthat have been hanging around there lately. It isn't safe to walkaround that neighborhood. They've beaten five or six people prettybadly. And they've killed a couple.
" Korentona paused.
"Funny," he added. "The police don't seem to be so upset about that."
"They wouldn't be," Don told him.
"So you think I'd better wait till morning?"
"It'll be a lot better. I can give you a place to stay tonight. And myhouse isn't too far from the Waern place, so you can get over there ina hurry if you want to." Korentona paused.
"Say, how about that fellow, Foree? Are you sure he'll keep quiet?"
Don smiled. "Pretty certain. Of course, I don't know whether an effortto talk would actually kill him. But he'd be pretty uncomfortable for awhile. Might even come up with shock amnesia." The smile broadened.
"He may have already done enough careless thinking by this time to makehim pretty sick." He regarded Korentona thoughtfully.
"You say there's a gang of young fellows hanging around the Waernneighborhood?"
The merchant nodded. "Quite a few of them, I think. People livingaround there don't spend any time on the street or in the park, you canbe sure of that."
"I see." Don nodded slowly. "That way, it's a lot easier to watch theWaern place at night. Look, there must be quite a few hillmen in thiscity. I should think you'd know quite a number of them."
"Yes, I do, of course." Korentona smiled. "We don't exactly form aclosed group, but ... well, I'll have to admit we do think a littledifferently from the plainsmen."
"I know." Don reached into his jacket and slowly withdrew a stick witha thong wrapped around it.
"Many of your friends carry these?"
The merchant laughed. "Certainly!" He produced a polished stick of hisown.
"Can you imagine any clansman without this sling?"
Don looked at him speculatively. "I wonder," he said casually, "whatwould happen if these young toughs found themselves being hunted downby ... say ten or fifteen blood hungry clansmen. Might worry them alittle, wouldn't you think?"
Korentona shook his head doubtfully. "You know what the situation ishere in Riandar," he remarked. "The police don't worry too much aboutthese robberies and beatings. But they'd be pretty perturbed if someonestarted hunting the hunters."
"That's what I mean." Don spread his hands. "Might even get the peoplewatching the Waern place upset and nervous." He shrugged. "And who's toknow what caused the uproar, or who's involved? After all, all theclansmen were at home. The watchers on their houses could testify tothat."
Korentona looked at him curiously. "Interesting idea, at that, youknow." He got to his feet. "Suppose we talk it over for a while."
* * * * *
Maurie VanSickle crouched behind a bush, watching the path. This, hethought, was getting old. It had been a lot of fun at first.Profitable, too. He thought with amusement of the old man who hadscrambled about in the dirt that first night. Boy, what a beat jerkhe'd been. And what a beautiful job Gerry had done on him. Clipped thestupid yokel so hard he didn't make a sound when he went down.
Then he and Walt had come in. Man, how the old guy had wriggled! Helooked down the path.
Now, though? Phooey! Not a lousy person on the path all evening. He'dtried to tell Gerry they were on a loser. Park was all worked out for afew weeks. But the stubborn clown wouldn't listen. Kept insisting theytry it a couple more nights. Maurie reached into his pocket.
"Better make a strike pretty soon," he muttered to himself. "The oldcash bag's getting empty." He stretched, then tensed. There werefootsteps on the path.
This one was his!
Silently, he gathered himself. He'd clip the guy from behind, thenGerry and Walt could come in from the other side and pin him down.
"Hope the jerk's got plenty of that stuff," he muttered.
The stroller came closer. Maurie appraised him as he walked. Oh, boy,another little, old guy. Clothes looked pretty good, too. Nice stack ofcloth. Should be quite a rack of the purple in them.
Now the man was almost close enough. Maurie's eyes followed him as heapproached, then passed. He launched himself in a crouching dash.
As he left the shelter of the bush, something bumped against his neck.He found himself whirling to the ground. Dimly, he saw his intendedvictim whirl around. He attempted to dodge the foot as it came down onhis face, but it was like moving in a dream. Somehow, he was too slow.
For just an instant, he felt crushing pain, then the world dissolvedinto bright specks in a spreading blackness. One by one, the points oflight winked out. And then, there was nothing.
As their intended victim whirled to crush Maurie, Gerry Kelton poked athis brother.
"Come on," he urged. "He can't take two of us. Let's go."
The two dashed out of their cover, then found themselves prostrate atthe edge of the path.
Walt Kelton was flipped over and held in a vicelike grip, his headgrinding into the path. Close by, he could see his brother. Two menheld him down. As he watched, they seized Gerry's hands, twisting themso that his head flopped face up.
A third man leaned over, a long knife in his hand. Unbelievingly, Waltwatched as the man thrust the knife into Gerry's throat. The boy's feetkicked convulsively a couple of times, then dropped. The toes sank, topoint outward.
With calm precision, the killer turned his knife and forced it acrossthe throat with the heel of his hand. Dark fluid welled out on thepath, making a pool which flowed toward Walt.
Casually, the man pulled the slack of Gerry's shirt toward him andwiped the blade till it was gleaming again. Then he looked toward Walt.He got to his feet.
For an instant, the boy lay limp, paralyzed with terror. Then, hekicked and struggled madly. Unbelievingly, he felt the hands whichrestrained him loosen and he kicked and squirmed until he was free toscramble away.
He skittered on all fours till he reached the middle of the path.
Then he struggled to his feet.
And ran.
* * * * *
Don Michaels flipped on the light in the vault and looked around him.Yes, it was just as Jasu Waern had said it would be. He walked over tothe closet at the side of the room and pulled out a towel. As he driedhimself, he continued his examination of the room.
It had been easier to get in than he had hoped. When that screaming kidhad come dashing along, it had been like a stick in an ant hill.Everyone around the house had been shaken up. Several men had gonestreaking over to the park. The others had given the incident theirfull attention.
And all Don had needed do was walk up to the front door and go in.
"Guess they thought they had a full-scale revolution on their hands,"he told himself. "Wonder how many Hunters the Moreku nailed." Hegrinned.
The men Korentona had talked to had jumped at the plan like starvinggersals. Several of them had been victimized in the past. They reallywanted blood. The others saw a good hunt in the offing. Every one ofthem knew someone who had been robbed. He'd turned something loose, allright.
"Hope they don't get too enthusiastic about it," he said. "Hate to have'em make a habit of that sort of thing." He shrugged.
"Oh, well, let's see where that book is."
The sides of the room were lined with books. Over in a corner was areading table with writing materials and a conveniently placed light.Don walked over to a glass-fronted bookcase and opened it, studying thetitles of the volumes within. Finally, he selected a book and carriedit over to the reading table.
He leafed through the volume, noting the careful engrossing. Then hepaused as he came to the pages he was searching for. He examined theornate script closely, then looked at the intricate stamp. It was thesignature stamp of the old king. Beside it was his queen's lesspretentious stamp. Don nodded in satisfaction.
Now, the only problem was to wrap the book safely in the waterprooftissue he'd brought with him, and get it out of the house. He stood,looking at the door.
It might not be too safe to leave the book with Korentona, as had beenoriginally planned. With the clansmen under surveillance as they hadb
een, and now, with this additional disturbance, there could be adisastrous slip. Don shook his head.
Somehow, the idea of carrying this document in a peddler's pack didn'tmake too much sense, either. Too many things could go wrong. He satback in the chair and stuck his legs out.
"Well," he told himself, "I can't stay here for the rest of my life.I'll have to do something." He grinned ruefully.
"The best defense," he quoted, "is a determined and well-directedoffense. So, if you don't know what to do, do anything. Then you'llfind out what to do next."
He snapped the light out and opened the door. At the edge of the waterlock, he breathed deeply a few times. Then he plunged in, closed theunderwater door, and swam rapidly toward the surface of the gardenpool.
* * * * *
He climbed out of the water, strode forward a few steps, then stoppedin consternation. The place was suddenly flooded with light.
An oily voice sounded in his ears.
"Just stand still, young fella. That way, you don't get hurt. Not rightaway, anyhow."
Don turned. At the side of the garden, stood a scrawny old man, hisseamed face wrinkled into a sardonic smile. In his hand, he held asmall weapon.
Don recognized it--a khroal. The weapon could put out vibration whichwould tear any target to tiny, singing fragments in a few microseconds.It was a complete anomaly which had been in the possession of theKhlorisanu for measureless time. Its origin was mystery, its exactprinciple of operation a puzzle. But it was easy to duplicate, and itwas one of the most deadly hand weapons known.
He held his hands out.
"Put that thing away," he snapped coldly. "Get it down--quick!"
The older man's smile broadened into happy amusement.
"Oh, funny stuff, eh?" he said joyfully. "I kinda hoped you'd be theone they'd send. Yeah, I kinda wanted to see you--what you look like,eh?" He waved the weapon.
"Just stand still, young fella, so old Jake can get a good look at you.Hey, you look like one of these here natives." The man bobbed his head.
"Woulda fooled me, you know?" He looked reproachful.
"Only, a smart young fella like you, you oughta know better than go andget that Foree so worried. You know, that fella, he comes in everynight--got a lot of things he wants to talk about. Got theories. Gotplans. Real eager fella. Only tonight, he ain't got nothing. Justgrunts.
"Nothing goes on today, he says." Jake shook his head reproachfully.
"You know, that was careless. You shoulda let him talk anyhow a little,see. Something like that happens, old Jake, he gets ideas. So I comeout here, to see who comes along." He looked at the package under Don'sarm.
"That the book we're all looking for?" He jerked his head toward adoor.
"Yeah, guess it is. Come on, young fella, that funny stuff, it don'twork so good with old Jake, see? So let's you and me take a nice littleride. What ya say?"
The khroal remained steadily pointed at its target.
Don hesitated. This was about as far from good as it could get, hethought. Now who was this? Where did he fit into the situation?
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"Oh, I don't mind telling you that. Name's Jake. Jake Gorham. But comeon. Let's get on our way. We got a nice, long ride, you and me, see?"Gorham waved his weapon again.
"Come on," he repeated. "Nice young fella like you, he don't wanna getall scattered around. Shame to mess up this nice pretty little garden,you know?"
Don hesitated. Of course, he might be able to dive into the pool again.But the khroal could kick out a cone several feet deep. There was noescape that way. No way out of the pool, anyway--except through thisgarden. He moved in the indicated direction.
* * * * *
Gorham herded him to the courtyard and closed the door. The houselights filtered through curtains, to show the outline of a flier in themiddle of the court. Gorham urged him toward it.
"All right, young fella," he said, "just stand real quiet for a minute.I'll get this thing unlocked and start them synchronizer things." Hereached toward the door, then paused.
"Yeah, I been kinda wondering about you," he added conversationally."See, I got a smart young fella down there in Oreladar. He's got peoplepretty well trained down there by now. Chap named Stern. You hear ofhim, maybe?" He chuckled.
"Kinda set him up in business here a few years back, and he's doingpretty well. Old Jake just hasta hang around--kinda look after thingsnow and then, this boy shouldn't get in too much trouble, see?" Hecleared his throat.
"See, this Danny, he ain't got too much in the brains department. Andhe don't do so good when people get violent. Might say he sorta scareseasy sometimes. Now you, I'd say you were a little different, see? Yaknow, I just might be able to use a real smart young fella like you."He flipped the khroal up and down negligently.
"Now, don't go making up no mind yet. Like I say, we got time. We havea nice, long talk on the way to Oreladar. Maybe we work something out,eh? You know, old Jake, he ain't such a bad guy. You ask Danny. He'lltell you. We could get along real nice, the three of us." He paused,considering.
"Oh, maybe you don't like the idea at first," he added. "But we got allkinds ways to persuade people.
"Got a fella, name's Masterson, down there right now. Danny tries, buthe can't do nothing with him. But he'll come around. You give us a fewmore days--a week, maybe, he's going to be a real reasonable fella." Hepulled the flier door open.
"We're getting this country organized, see? One of these days, somefella's been smart and got in at the right time, he's going to be quitea guy. Have just about anything he wants, see?" He reached into theflier and snapped switches. A muted humming sounded through thecourtyard.
"Tell you, though, Kid. Maybe old Jake's not real trusting like heoughta be. Not just yet a while. Suppose you just turn your back to mefor a minute, eh?"
Don turned slowly, straining his ears.
He could hear the faint sibilance of Gorham's clothing as the manapproached. Then the sound stopped. There was a slight grating noise.
Obviously, then, the man was lifting an arm and shifting his weight.
Don dropped suddenly to the ground, whirling as he went down. He seizedGorham's legs, lifted, then dashed the man's body to the ground.Swiftly following up, he seized the gun hand and twisted violently.
Jolted by the sudden fall, Gorham was quiet for a fraction of a second.Then he burst into explosive action, trying to tear himself free fromDon's restraining grip. He twisted and tried to kick himself free, thengroaned as the twisting pressure ripped at elbow and shoulder tendons.The khroal rattled on the stones.
Abruptly, Don jerked the tortured arm around and pinned it beneath aleg. He placed a hand on Gorham's throat and reached for the other arm.
"Aw," whispered Gorham agonizedly, "aw, take it easy, will you? I gotthe idea all right. So let me up, we do things your way, huh?" Helooked anxiously at the face which stared down a few inches from hisown.
Don saw the pleading expression on the man's face. For a heartbeat, hestarted to relax the pressure on the throat.
Then he remembered another pleading pair of eyes that had looked athim. The gersal, he remembered, had been just as helpless under hisstick as this man was now under his hands. But given the slightestchance, it would have had its teeth in his leg. And the poison wouldhave poured into his veins. He looked again at Gorham.
His hand tightened and drove downward.
Gorham's eyes widened, then glazed. He gave a half-choked squawk. Feetand body jerked convulsively. Then the hard, taut strength was gone andthe man lay limply. Don raised his hand and put his entire weightbehind the stroke which drove his extended fingers into the soft partof the man's throat. Then he felt carefully, to be sure there was novestige of a pulse.
* * * * *
He got to his feet and stood for a moment, looking down at the crumpledfigure on the stones. Then he
brought his hands up, to look at themappraisingly. He was suddenly aware of a feeling of lightness, of anuncontrollable desire to go into rapid motion. Any motion would do. Hismuscles simply demanded some sort of violent action. It seemed to himas if he almost floated as he walked over to the book he had thrown ashe whirled on Gorham. He bent over and picked it up, then looked aboutthe courtyard.
He turned and looked at the flier.
It was warmed up by this time. He moved swiftly over to it, his bodyjerking in a peculiar, off-beat cadence as he walked.
As he sat down before the controls, a calm voice echoed in his memory,going through his mind like a cold breeze.
"Let yourself get emotionally involved in a problem and it'll turnaround and bite you."
He forced himself to sit back, his hands away from the controls.
Then he looked back at the body on the courtyard paving.
Gorham had implied that he was the power behind the whole presentregime. Maybe he'd been bragging. But again, maybe he hadn't. There hadbeen a queer, hard force about the man. There had been an aura whichDon had sensed, but could not analyze. One thing was certain. This manhad never been able to work under someone else's orders.
He looked around the interior of the flier.
"It's a Royal Guard job," he told himself.
He could see painted legends, giving cautions and instructions towhomever should pilot the ship. He felt under the dash.
There was a light board snapped into clips. He pulled it out and turnedon the