“Sniffers!”
Eet’s warning halted me. There was enough light and noise
behind us to inform the natives that those of the ship’s camp
were hunting.
“Where?” Perhaps Hory was now willing to depend upon
Eet’s senses, if not to accept his advice.
“Left—in the tree.”
That was not as tall as the forest giants, but it did tower well
above us. And its foliage made so impenetrable a cone of dark that
no eyes of ours could sight what might hide there.
“He waits to leap as we pass beneath,” Eet informed
us. “Swing well away; he will leap but fall short.”
This time we were not unarmed. Hory had one of the X-Tee’s
lasers, I another. To spray about without a definite target,
however, would be folly. I held the weapon at ready and started
around the tree.
It was like a blow in my face, striking deep into my head, then
seeming to center in my ears. I staggered under it and heard Hory
cry out in equal torment.
Eet twisted on my shoulders, thrust in his claws to keep his
position. I forgot all about any menace from the natives; all I
wanted was to be rid of the agony in my head.
“—hand—take Hory’s hand—hold—”
Eet’s mind voice was almost muffled by the pain in my
head. His hand-paws had gone to my ears, gripping them, and I could
feel his body resting against my head, an addition to my
misery.
“Take Hory’s hand!” The command was emphasized
by a sharp twist of my ears. I tried to lift my hand to pull that
tormentor from my shoulders, but found that, instead of obeying me,
my flesh and muscle were flung around, and my fingers seemed to
close of their own accord on warm skin and bone, in a grip riveted
past my breaking. The Patrolman, moaning, tried to break away from
me, to no effect.
“Now—on!” Again Eet twisted my ears. Dazed from the
pain in my head, I stumbled in the direction he aimed me, towing
Hory behind.
There was a shrilling from the tree, and something dark fell,
not leaped, from it, to lie writhing on the ground. We dimly heard
other sounds, a rustling of movement throughout the brush. Things
hiding there were now moving past us toward the cliffs.
Only Eet’s sharp hold and constant misuse of my ears kept
me going. For, as I moved, it was as if I waded through a swift
current determined to bear me back toward the ruins and the Guild
ship, which I had to fight with all my strength.
It was dark here, but Eet rode me as a man might mount a beast
of burden, guiding me by his hold, steering me here and there. And
I could only obey those tugs, always drawing Hory along by a grip I
could not release.
For years, or so it seemed, that zigzag march lasted. Then I
smelled charred vegetation and we came to where the growth was
shriveled by rocket blast, or burned off altogether. Before us,
standing on its fins, was the Patrol scout ship.
Only a dark bulk—I could not make out a ramp, or any dark
hatch open on its side. And I remembered Hory’s talk of a
time seal. If he could not lift that at will, we had reached our
goal but were still barred from safety.
The pull on me, the pain in my head, still existed, but either
its force had lessened, or I was now so accustomed to it that the
agony had decreased. Eet still kept his grip on my ears, but when I
paused before the ship he did not urge me on.
Instead he turned his attention to Hory, though my brain, too,
received his imperative command:
“Hory, the time seal—can you denegate it?”
The Patrolman swayed back and forth, tugging feebly against my
grip, trying to turn toward the ruins.
“Hory!” This time Eet’s demand for attention
was as painful to the receptive mind as the torment from
behind.
“What—” Not quite a word, more nearly a moan. With
his free hand the Patrolman pawed at his head. The laser was gone;
he must have dropped it at the attack.
“The seal—on—the—ship—” Eet’s words were
heavy in impact, like the ancient solid-type projectiles when they
struck into flesh. “Deactivate the seal—now—”
Hory turned his head. I could see him only dimly. With his free
hand he fumbled at the front of his tunic. All his movements seemed
so uncoordinated that one could not believe he could complete any
action. He brought out a hand com.
“Code!” Eet kept at him relentlessly. “What—is—the—code?”
As if he could not even be sure of the position of his mouth,
Hory raised his hand in a series of jerks. He mumbled. I could
understand none of the sounds clearly. And whether, in spite of his
clouded mind, he was responding to Eet’s order, I had no
idea. His arm dropped heavily, to swing by his side. It seemed he
had failed.
Then there was a noise from the ship. The hatch opened and the
tongue of a narrow landing ramp licked forth, to touch the seared
earth only feet away.
“In!” Eet’s order rang almost as shrill as one
of the sniffers’ screams.
I dragged Hory along. The ramp was very narrow and steep, and I
had to negotiate it sideways in order to tow the Patrolman. But
step by step we climbed the span to enter the hatch.
It was like walking into a soundproofed chamber and slamming the
door behind us. Instantly the tumult in my head ended. I leaned
against the wall of the compartment just within the hatch, feeling
the drip of my own sweat from my chin. My relief was so great it
left me weak and shaking.
By the glow of the light which came on as the hatch closed
behind us, I could see that Hory was in no better state. His face
was greenish-white under the space tan and slick with sweat. He had
bitten his lip and drops of blood still gathered there in bubbles,
to feed a thin trickle down his chin.
“They—had—a compeller—on us—” He got out each
word as if to form it with his savaged lips was a fearsome task.
“They—”
Eet had released his hold on my ears and had dropped down to my
shoulders once again.
“Better get off planet.” If the compeller had
affected the mutant, he did not show it. And now it was far easier
to follow his suggestion than to undertake any action on my
own.
I think Hory was in much the same state. He lurched away from
the wall and drew himself through the inner hatch. As we followed I
heard the clang of the rewinding ramp, the automatic sealing of the
door behind us. Again I felt a wave of relief.
To get at us now they would have to use a superdestruct. And the
Guild ship, as well equipped as it might be, could not carry one of
those—it was not large enough.
Hory took the lead, pulling up the core ladder of the ship. Then
Eet climbed with a speed which left both of us behind. We passed by
two levels to enter the control cabin. The Patrolman reached the
pilot’s swing chair and began to buckle himself in. He moved
as one in a dream and I do not think he was really aware of my
presence, though he must have been of Eet’s.
Patrol scouts are not meant to carry more than one man. But in
emergencies there might be exceptions, and there was a second
blastoff seat in the rear of the cabin. I got into that and was
making fast the straps when Hory leaned forward to press the course
tape release. Eet sprang from somewhere and lay full length along
my body.
There was an awakening of lights on the board, a vibration
through the ship. Then came the pressure of blast-off. I had known
that of the Free Traders and small freighters, which had seemed so
much worse than that of liners. But this was a huge hand squeezing
me down into darkness.
When I saw dizzily again, the lights on the board no longer
played in flashing patterns but were set and steady. Hory lay in
his seat, his head forward on his chest. Eet stirred against me.
Then his head arose slowly and his beads of eyes met mine.
“We are out—”
“He set a course tape,” I said. “To the
nearest Patrol mother ship or base, I suppose.”
“If he can reach it,” Eet observed. “We may
have bought time only.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that Nactitl cannot afford to lose us. The Guild are
playing for the largest stakes they have yet found—for many of
your human centuries. They will not allow the fate of a single
Patrol scout to upset their plans.”
“They cannot mount a destruct—not on their
ship.”
“But they may have other devices, just as useful to them.
Also, do you yourself want to be delivered to a Patrol
base?”
“What do you mean?” I glanced at Hory. If he was
conscious he must be able to “hear” Eet’s
communications.
“He still sleeps,” the mutant reassured me.
“But—we may not have much time, and I do not know how much
an unconscious brain can pick up to retain for the future. This is
true—what Nactitl seeks he has not yet found. There are only the
stones in the storage vault. But they were not mined on that
planet, as Nactitl and the Patrol may continue to
believe.”
“How do you know that? What about those cliff
tunnels?”
“They sought something else there, those old ones. No, the
cache under the ruins held their fuel supply. But Nactitl will
believe they found them in the mines, and so will others. However,
the man who does eventually find the true source of the stones can
make his own luck, if he is clever and discreet. Also—those
stones looked dead, did they not?”
“Very dead.”
“Your ring stone partly activated them. Just as it can
give a boost to any conventional fuel in these ships of yours. You
have a bargaining point, but you must use it well. There will be
those who would kill you for that ring. And you have more to fear
than just the Guild.”
His head swiveled around on that exceedingly mobile neck and he
looked meaningfully at the Patrolman.
“To stand against the Patrol would require more resources
than I have,” I answered. The illegality of it did not bother
me. The ring was my heritage, and the fact that some musty law made
by men I had never seen or heard of might be produced to wrest it
from me only raised my anger. I added, “But I will fight for
what I now hold.”
“Just so.” There was satisfaction in Eet’s
agreement. “You can seem to yield and yet win.”
“Win what? A fortune—with everyone sniping at me to get
at the secret and tear me down? I want none of that.”
Perhaps Hywel Jern, who could have had wealth and yet had
settled prudently for comfort, and might have finished out his life
in peace had he not been a curious man, had molded me. Or perhaps
the need to be free which had kept Vondar Ustle on the move had
rubbed off on his assistant.
“You can buy freedom.” Eet’s thought followed
mine easily. “What have you now with Vondar dead? Nothing.
Bargain well, as he taught you, when the time comes. You will know
what you want most in that hour.”
“What you want,” I countered.
Now his head turned so that he could eye me. “What I want—just so. But our trails run together. I have told you that
before. Apart we are weak, together we are strong, a combination to
accomplish much if you have the courage—”
“Eet—what are you?”
“A living being,” he replied, “with certain
gifts which I have placed at your disposal from time to time, and
certainly not to your disadvantage.” Again he read my
thoughts and added, “Of course, I have used you, but also you
have used me. You would have been dead long since had we not. And
to your species, death of the body is an end—do you not believe
it so?”
“Not all of us do.”
“That is as it may be,” he replied ambiguously.
“But at any rate, we are together in this life and it is to
our mutual advantage to have this pact continue.”
I could not deny his logic, though still the suspicion stayed
deep in my mind that Eet had plans of his own and would eventually
maneuver me into serving them.
“He is waking.” Eet looked at Hory. “Tell him
to check his speed.”
I was no pilot. But I could see there was a red light flashing
on the board. That had about it a suggestion of alarm. Hory made a
snorting sound and straightened in his web seat, setting it to
swinging. He rubbed his hands across his eyes and then leaned
forward to look at the board, his attitude that of one alerted to
trouble.
“Eet says—look to the speed—” I said.
His hand shot out to thumb a red button under that red flash.
The red spark vanished, a yellow one flashed in its place, held
steady for a short space, then became red again. Once more Hory
tried the button. But this time there was no change in the light.
His fingers played a swift pattern over the other buttons and
levers, but the signal remained stubbornly red.
“What is the matter?” I asked.
“Traction beam.” Hory spit out that explanation as
if it were a curse. “They have lifted behind us and slapped a
traction on. But a ship of that size, how could they be so
equipped?” Still he continued to try his keys. Once the light
paled, but only momentarily.
“They can pull us back?”
“They are trying. But they cannot down us—not yet. They
can only keep us out of hyper. And they may think they can board—if so they are going to be surprised. But they can keep us tied
near that planet.”
“Waiting for reinforcements? Why cannot you do the same—call for help?”
“They have a com blanket over us. If they expect
reinforcements they were already sure of their coming. I have heard
of Guild superships; this must be one of them.”
“What do we do then—just wait—?”
“Not if we are wise,” Eet cut in. “They do
expect aid and it will be of such nature as to take this ship
easily. What you stumbled on here, Hory, is a Guild operation of
such magnitude that they are willing to throw many of their
undercover reserves in—or did you arrive here with a suspicion
that that was so?”
“I suppose you have a suggestion?” Hory asked
bitingly. “I can maintain my shield but not break their hold—to do that is to lose my own escape force. They could reel us in
before I could fire effectively.”
Eet did have an answer. “The ring stone,
Murdoc—”
“How?” I had felt the action of the ring on my own
body, its drawing power across the wastes of space, and on the
planet below. But in what way could it be used on this ship to
break a traction beam which held so powerful a vessel in bonds?
“Take it down, to the engine room,” Eet ordered.
His knowledge was certainly greater than mine, and I continued
to wonder where he had gained it. Reading minds seemed easy enough
for him, but how he knew uses for the baffling gem I could not
understand. Was it all part of Eet’s mysterious past, before
he had, as he put it, obtained a body to serve him in the present?
Was—could Eet have a link with those who had once used the stones
for motive power? How long had Eet been a seed, or stone, or that
thing Valcyr had swallowed?
Even as I speculated I was unbuckling, preparing to leave my
seat. I had learned my confidence well; if Eet thought there was a
chance the ring might save us, I was willing to try it.
“What will you do?” Hory asked sharply.
Eet answered. “Try to augment your power, Patrolman. We
are not sure, we can only try.”
It was thoughtful of him to say “we,” since, as
always, I was merely the one to carry out plans hatched in that
narrow head of his.
We descended the ladder to the lowest level and made our way to
the reactor room. Eet made the same questing movements of nose and
head as he had used to steer us through the forest. Then with a
quick stretch of his neck, he pointed his nose at a sealed box.
“There, but you must make it fast. Use a weld
torch—”
With the air of one humoring madmen, Hory opened a small
compartment on the wall and took out the tool Eet had asked for. I
brought out the ring slowly. In spite of Eet’s suggestion
that we needed its aid, I could not be sure of that. And I had the
greatest reluctance to release it to Hory. I had come to trust no
one in relation to the stone, which had already left a trail of
blood, and blood belonging to those who meant the most to me,
across several solar systems.
For a moment I thought Eet was wrong. The stone displayed no
signs of life; it was as dead as it had been the first time I saw
it. Very much against my will I laid it on top of the box as Eet
had ordered.
Then slowly, almost protestingly, it did show life. It did not
blaze as it had in space, or even as it had in the underground
room, when it had rested near its fellows, bringing them in turn to
a glow. That blaze had been blue-white; this was duller, yellow.
Hory stared at it, his astonishment so great that he made no
attempt to use the welder.
“Affix it—quick!” Eet cried. His whip of tail
lashed back and forth on my back as if he would so beat me to the
task. I reached for the welder, but Hory roused and touched its tip
to the ring metal against the box, joining them firmly.
“Look—” But Eet was not to finish that warning. Hory
struck out with a follow-through of the weld rod. By the good grace
of whatever power might rule space, the lighted end of that
improvised weapon did not hit Eet. But the rod swept him from my
shoulder and hurled him to the floor with such force that he lay
limp and unmoving.
I was so astounded by the attack that I wasted a precious moment
in sheer amazement. When I started for Hory that rod swept up again
so that the glowing point menaced my eyes. There was such
determination to be read on his face I did not doubt he meant to
use it were I to jump him.
So I retreated as he advanced, unable to reach for Eet, for Hory
thrust at me when I attempted that. Since the compartment in which
we stood was small, my back was swiftly at the wall.
“Why?” I asked. He had me spread there, my hands at
shoulder height, palms empty and out, the glowing point of the rod
weaving a pattern of threat directly before my eyes.
Hory, the rod in one hand, searched in the front of his tunic.
What he produced was a more refined example of the tangler the
Guild men had used on him. It flicked out from the tube, not to
weave my whole body into a helpless cocoon, but to loop about my
wrists, bringing them tightly together.
“Why?” he echoed. “Because I now know who you
are. You gave yourself away, or that beast of yours did, when he
had you bring out the ring. What happened back there? Could you not
agree on the Guild’s terms? We have been tracing you for
months, Murdoc Jern.”
“Why? I am no Guildman—”
“Then you are playing a lone hand, which is enough to
label you fool. Or do you reckon your beast high enough to support
you? You are rather useless without him, are you not?” Hory
kicked out and Eet rolled over. I tried desperately to reach him
through mind touch, but met nothing. Once before I had believed him
dead; now the evidence of my eyes assured me that was true.
“You accuse me of playing some game.” I strove to
control my rage; anger can betray a man into foolish error. Perhaps
I had not learned the proper submergence of emotions my father had
believed necessary to make the superior man, but I had had
excellent tutoring and put that to the test now. “What do you
mean?”
“You are Murdoc Jern and your father was a notorious
Guildman.” Hory used the blazing rod as if I were a child and
he were an instructor about to indicate some pertinent point on a
wall projection from a reading tape. “If you are not a full
member of the Guild, you have access to his connections. Your
father was killed for information he had, probably about”—with the rod Hory indicated the ring—“that. You were on Angkor
when it happened. Then you shipped out, having broken with your
family. You were on Tanth when your master Vondar Ustle was killed
under circumstances which suggest his death had been arranged. What
caused that Jern? Did he discover what you were carrying and plan
to inform the authorities? Whatever happened, matters did not go as
you expected, did they? You did not walk out free with your
master’s private gem stock to back you. But you did get off
world.
“The ship you lifted in is suspect as a part-time Guild
transport. They dropped you here, didn’t they? And later you
fell out with your bosses. You ought to have known you could not
stand up to the Guild. Or did you believe that with that beast of
yours you could do it? We will get the truth out of you with a
reader-helm—”
“When and if you get me to a Patrol base!”
“Oh I think that now there will be no chance of your
escaping. You, yourself, obligingly arranged that. But I am
forgetting, you are not shipwise, are you? You do not have the
‘feel.’ We have broken free of the traction and are
back on course. Now—” Still facing me with the ready rod,
Hory stooped and picked up Eet, a long string of furred body, by
the hind legs. “This goes into cold storage. The lab will
want to see it. And you shall go into another kind of storage,
until you are needed.”
He drove me with his heated rod out of the engine compartment,
toward the ladder which led to the upper levels. I backed slowly,
trying to see any small chance which might work for me. But even
though I might be reckless enough to charge him, he need only with
pressure of one finger bring that rod to top heat and lay it across
my face to discipline me into obedience.
Eet swung, a pitiful pendulum, from Hory’s hand. I looked
at his body and my hate was no longer hot but cold, clear and
deadly in me. And because I did look at Eet at that moment I saw my
chance. For Eet came to life, twisting up and around to bury
needle-sharp teeth in the hand which held him. And as Hory yelled
in pain and surprise I charged.
“Sniffers!”
Eet’s warning halted me. There was enough light and noise
behind us to inform the natives that those of the ship’s camp
were hunting.
“Where?” Perhaps Hory was now willing to depend upon
Eet’s senses, if not to accept his advice.
“Left—in the tree.”
That was not as tall as the forest giants, but it did tower well
above us. And its foliage made so impenetrable a cone of dark that
no eyes of ours could sight what might hide there.
“He waits to leap as we pass beneath,” Eet informed
us. “Swing well away; he will leap but fall short.”
This time we were not unarmed. Hory had one of the X-Tee’s
lasers, I another. To spray about without a definite target,
however, would be folly. I held the weapon at ready and started
around the tree.
It was like a blow in my face, striking deep into my head, then
seeming to center in my ears. I staggered under it and heard Hory
cry out in equal torment.
Eet twisted on my shoulders, thrust in his claws to keep his
position. I forgot all about any menace from the natives; all I
wanted was to be rid of the agony in my head.
“—hand—take Hory’s hand—hold—”
Eet’s mind voice was almost muffled by the pain in my
head. His hand-paws had gone to my ears, gripping them, and I could
feel his body resting against my head, an addition to my
misery.
“Take Hory’s hand!” The command was emphasized
by a sharp twist of my ears. I tried to lift my hand to pull that
tormentor from my shoulders, but found that, instead of obeying me,
my flesh and muscle were flung around, and my fingers seemed to
close of their own accord on warm skin and bone, in a grip riveted
past my breaking. The Patrolman, moaning, tried to break away from
me, to no effect.
“Now—on!” Again Eet twisted my ears. Dazed from the
pain in my head, I stumbled in the direction he aimed me, towing
Hory behind.
There was a shrilling from the tree, and something dark fell,
not leaped, from it, to lie writhing on the ground. We dimly heard
other sounds, a rustling of movement throughout the brush. Things
hiding there were now moving past us toward the cliffs.
Only Eet’s sharp hold and constant misuse of my ears kept
me going. For, as I moved, it was as if I waded through a swift
current determined to bear me back toward the ruins and the Guild
ship, which I had to fight with all my strength.
It was dark here, but Eet rode me as a man might mount a beast
of burden, guiding me by his hold, steering me here and there. And
I could only obey those tugs, always drawing Hory along by a grip I
could not release.
For years, or so it seemed, that zigzag march lasted. Then I
smelled charred vegetation and we came to where the growth was
shriveled by rocket blast, or burned off altogether. Before us,
standing on its fins, was the Patrol scout ship.
Only a dark bulk—I could not make out a ramp, or any dark
hatch open on its side. And I remembered Hory’s talk of a
time seal. If he could not lift that at will, we had reached our
goal but were still barred from safety.
The pull on me, the pain in my head, still existed, but either
its force had lessened, or I was now so accustomed to it that the
agony had decreased. Eet still kept his grip on my ears, but when I
paused before the ship he did not urge me on.
Instead he turned his attention to Hory, though my brain, too,
received his imperative command:
“Hory, the time seal—can you denegate it?”
The Patrolman swayed back and forth, tugging feebly against my
grip, trying to turn toward the ruins.
“Hory!” This time Eet’s demand for attention
was as painful to the receptive mind as the torment from
behind.
“What—” Not quite a word, more nearly a moan. With
his free hand the Patrolman pawed at his head. The laser was gone;
he must have dropped it at the attack.
“The seal—on—the—ship—” Eet’s words were
heavy in impact, like the ancient solid-type projectiles when they
struck into flesh. “Deactivate the seal—now—”
Hory turned his head. I could see him only dimly. With his free
hand he fumbled at the front of his tunic. All his movements seemed
so uncoordinated that one could not believe he could complete any
action. He brought out a hand com.
“Code!” Eet kept at him relentlessly. “What—is—the—code?”
As if he could not even be sure of the position of his mouth,
Hory raised his hand in a series of jerks. He mumbled. I could
understand none of the sounds clearly. And whether, in spite of his
clouded mind, he was responding to Eet’s order, I had no
idea. His arm dropped heavily, to swing by his side. It seemed he
had failed.
Then there was a noise from the ship. The hatch opened and the
tongue of a narrow landing ramp licked forth, to touch the seared
earth only feet away.
“In!” Eet’s order rang almost as shrill as one
of the sniffers’ screams.
I dragged Hory along. The ramp was very narrow and steep, and I
had to negotiate it sideways in order to tow the Patrolman. But
step by step we climbed the span to enter the hatch.
It was like walking into a soundproofed chamber and slamming the
door behind us. Instantly the tumult in my head ended. I leaned
against the wall of the compartment just within the hatch, feeling
the drip of my own sweat from my chin. My relief was so great it
left me weak and shaking.
By the glow of the light which came on as the hatch closed
behind us, I could see that Hory was in no better state. His face
was greenish-white under the space tan and slick with sweat. He had
bitten his lip and drops of blood still gathered there in bubbles,
to feed a thin trickle down his chin.
“They—had—a compeller—on us—” He got out each
word as if to form it with his savaged lips was a fearsome task.
“They—”
Eet had released his hold on my ears and had dropped down to my
shoulders once again.
“Better get off planet.” If the compeller had
affected the mutant, he did not show it. And now it was far easier
to follow his suggestion than to undertake any action on my
own.
I think Hory was in much the same state. He lurched away from
the wall and drew himself through the inner hatch. As we followed I
heard the clang of the rewinding ramp, the automatic sealing of the
door behind us. Again I felt a wave of relief.
To get at us now they would have to use a superdestruct. And the
Guild ship, as well equipped as it might be, could not carry one of
those—it was not large enough.
Hory took the lead, pulling up the core ladder of the ship. Then
Eet climbed with a speed which left both of us behind. We passed by
two levels to enter the control cabin. The Patrolman reached the
pilot’s swing chair and began to buckle himself in. He moved
as one in a dream and I do not think he was really aware of my
presence, though he must have been of Eet’s.
Patrol scouts are not meant to carry more than one man. But in
emergencies there might be exceptions, and there was a second
blastoff seat in the rear of the cabin. I got into that and was
making fast the straps when Hory leaned forward to press the course
tape release. Eet sprang from somewhere and lay full length along
my body.
There was an awakening of lights on the board, a vibration
through the ship. Then came the pressure of blast-off. I had known
that of the Free Traders and small freighters, which had seemed so
much worse than that of liners. But this was a huge hand squeezing
me down into darkness.
When I saw dizzily again, the lights on the board no longer
played in flashing patterns but were set and steady. Hory lay in
his seat, his head forward on his chest. Eet stirred against me.
Then his head arose slowly and his beads of eyes met mine.
“We are out—”
“He set a course tape,” I said. “To the
nearest Patrol mother ship or base, I suppose.”
“If he can reach it,” Eet observed. “We may
have bought time only.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that Nactitl cannot afford to lose us. The Guild are
playing for the largest stakes they have yet found—for many of
your human centuries. They will not allow the fate of a single
Patrol scout to upset their plans.”
“They cannot mount a destruct—not on their
ship.”
“But they may have other devices, just as useful to them.
Also, do you yourself want to be delivered to a Patrol
base?”
“What do you mean?” I glanced at Hory. If he was
conscious he must be able to “hear” Eet’s
communications.
“He still sleeps,” the mutant reassured me.
“But—we may not have much time, and I do not know how much
an unconscious brain can pick up to retain for the future. This is
true—what Nactitl seeks he has not yet found. There are only the
stones in the storage vault. But they were not mined on that
planet, as Nactitl and the Patrol may continue to
believe.”
“How do you know that? What about those cliff
tunnels?”
“They sought something else there, those old ones. No, the
cache under the ruins held their fuel supply. But Nactitl will
believe they found them in the mines, and so will others. However,
the man who does eventually find the true source of the stones can
make his own luck, if he is clever and discreet. Also—those
stones looked dead, did they not?”
“Very dead.”
“Your ring stone partly activated them. Just as it can
give a boost to any conventional fuel in these ships of yours. You
have a bargaining point, but you must use it well. There will be
those who would kill you for that ring. And you have more to fear
than just the Guild.”
His head swiveled around on that exceedingly mobile neck and he
looked meaningfully at the Patrolman.
“To stand against the Patrol would require more resources
than I have,” I answered. The illegality of it did not bother
me. The ring was my heritage, and the fact that some musty law made
by men I had never seen or heard of might be produced to wrest it
from me only raised my anger. I added, “But I will fight for
what I now hold.”
“Just so.” There was satisfaction in Eet’s
agreement. “You can seem to yield and yet win.”
“Win what? A fortune—with everyone sniping at me to get
at the secret and tear me down? I want none of that.”
Perhaps Hywel Jern, who could have had wealth and yet had
settled prudently for comfort, and might have finished out his life
in peace had he not been a curious man, had molded me. Or perhaps
the need to be free which had kept Vondar Ustle on the move had
rubbed off on his assistant.
“You can buy freedom.” Eet’s thought followed
mine easily. “What have you now with Vondar dead? Nothing.
Bargain well, as he taught you, when the time comes. You will know
what you want most in that hour.”
“What you want,” I countered.
Now his head turned so that he could eye me. “What I want—just so. But our trails run together. I have told you that
before. Apart we are weak, together we are strong, a combination to
accomplish much if you have the courage—”
“Eet—what are you?”
“A living being,” he replied, “with certain
gifts which I have placed at your disposal from time to time, and
certainly not to your disadvantage.” Again he read my
thoughts and added, “Of course, I have used you, but also you
have used me. You would have been dead long since had we not. And
to your species, death of the body is an end—do you not believe
it so?”
“Not all of us do.”
“That is as it may be,” he replied ambiguously.
“But at any rate, we are together in this life and it is to
our mutual advantage to have this pact continue.”
I could not deny his logic, though still the suspicion stayed
deep in my mind that Eet had plans of his own and would eventually
maneuver me into serving them.
“He is waking.” Eet looked at Hory. “Tell him
to check his speed.”
I was no pilot. But I could see there was a red light flashing
on the board. That had about it a suggestion of alarm. Hory made a
snorting sound and straightened in his web seat, setting it to
swinging. He rubbed his hands across his eyes and then leaned
forward to look at the board, his attitude that of one alerted to
trouble.
“Eet says—look to the speed—” I said.
His hand shot out to thumb a red button under that red flash.
The red spark vanished, a yellow one flashed in its place, held
steady for a short space, then became red again. Once more Hory
tried the button. But this time there was no change in the light.
His fingers played a swift pattern over the other buttons and
levers, but the signal remained stubbornly red.
“What is the matter?” I asked.
“Traction beam.” Hory spit out that explanation as
if it were a curse. “They have lifted behind us and slapped a
traction on. But a ship of that size, how could they be so
equipped?” Still he continued to try his keys. Once the light
paled, but only momentarily.
“They can pull us back?”
“They are trying. But they cannot down us—not yet. They
can only keep us out of hyper. And they may think they can board—if so they are going to be surprised. But they can keep us tied
near that planet.”
“Waiting for reinforcements? Why cannot you do the same—call for help?”
“They have a com blanket over us. If they expect
reinforcements they were already sure of their coming. I have heard
of Guild superships; this must be one of them.”
“What do we do then—just wait—?”
“Not if we are wise,” Eet cut in. “They do
expect aid and it will be of such nature as to take this ship
easily. What you stumbled on here, Hory, is a Guild operation of
such magnitude that they are willing to throw many of their
undercover reserves in—or did you arrive here with a suspicion
that that was so?”
“I suppose you have a suggestion?” Hory asked
bitingly. “I can maintain my shield but not break their hold—to do that is to lose my own escape force. They could reel us in
before I could fire effectively.”
Eet did have an answer. “The ring stone,
Murdoc—”
“How?” I had felt the action of the ring on my own
body, its drawing power across the wastes of space, and on the
planet below. But in what way could it be used on this ship to
break a traction beam which held so powerful a vessel in bonds?
“Take it down, to the engine room,” Eet ordered.
His knowledge was certainly greater than mine, and I continued
to wonder where he had gained it. Reading minds seemed easy enough
for him, but how he knew uses for the baffling gem I could not
understand. Was it all part of Eet’s mysterious past, before
he had, as he put it, obtained a body to serve him in the present?
Was—could Eet have a link with those who had once used the stones
for motive power? How long had Eet been a seed, or stone, or that
thing Valcyr had swallowed?
Even as I speculated I was unbuckling, preparing to leave my
seat. I had learned my confidence well; if Eet thought there was a
chance the ring might save us, I was willing to try it.
“What will you do?” Hory asked sharply.
Eet answered. “Try to augment your power, Patrolman. We
are not sure, we can only try.”
It was thoughtful of him to say “we,” since, as
always, I was merely the one to carry out plans hatched in that
narrow head of his.
We descended the ladder to the lowest level and made our way to
the reactor room. Eet made the same questing movements of nose and
head as he had used to steer us through the forest. Then with a
quick stretch of his neck, he pointed his nose at a sealed box.
“There, but you must make it fast. Use a weld
torch—”
With the air of one humoring madmen, Hory opened a small
compartment on the wall and took out the tool Eet had asked for. I
brought out the ring slowly. In spite of Eet’s suggestion
that we needed its aid, I could not be sure of that. And I had the
greatest reluctance to release it to Hory. I had come to trust no
one in relation to the stone, which had already left a trail of
blood, and blood belonging to those who meant the most to me,
across several solar systems.
For a moment I thought Eet was wrong. The stone displayed no
signs of life; it was as dead as it had been the first time I saw
it. Very much against my will I laid it on top of the box as Eet
had ordered.
Then slowly, almost protestingly, it did show life. It did not
blaze as it had in space, or even as it had in the underground
room, when it had rested near its fellows, bringing them in turn to
a glow. That blaze had been blue-white; this was duller, yellow.
Hory stared at it, his astonishment so great that he made no
attempt to use the welder.
“Affix it—quick!” Eet cried. His whip of tail
lashed back and forth on my back as if he would so beat me to the
task. I reached for the welder, but Hory roused and touched its tip
to the ring metal against the box, joining them firmly.
“Look—” But Eet was not to finish that warning. Hory
struck out with a follow-through of the weld rod. By the good grace
of whatever power might rule space, the lighted end of that
improvised weapon did not hit Eet. But the rod swept him from my
shoulder and hurled him to the floor with such force that he lay
limp and unmoving.
I was so astounded by the attack that I wasted a precious moment
in sheer amazement. When I started for Hory that rod swept up again
so that the glowing point menaced my eyes. There was such
determination to be read on his face I did not doubt he meant to
use it were I to jump him.
So I retreated as he advanced, unable to reach for Eet, for Hory
thrust at me when I attempted that. Since the compartment in which
we stood was small, my back was swiftly at the wall.
“Why?” I asked. He had me spread there, my hands at
shoulder height, palms empty and out, the glowing point of the rod
weaving a pattern of threat directly before my eyes.
Hory, the rod in one hand, searched in the front of his tunic.
What he produced was a more refined example of the tangler the
Guild men had used on him. It flicked out from the tube, not to
weave my whole body into a helpless cocoon, but to loop about my
wrists, bringing them tightly together.
“Why?” he echoed. “Because I now know who you
are. You gave yourself away, or that beast of yours did, when he
had you bring out the ring. What happened back there? Could you not
agree on the Guild’s terms? We have been tracing you for
months, Murdoc Jern.”
“Why? I am no Guildman—”
“Then you are playing a lone hand, which is enough to
label you fool. Or do you reckon your beast high enough to support
you? You are rather useless without him, are you not?” Hory
kicked out and Eet rolled over. I tried desperately to reach him
through mind touch, but met nothing. Once before I had believed him
dead; now the evidence of my eyes assured me that was true.
“You accuse me of playing some game.” I strove to
control my rage; anger can betray a man into foolish error. Perhaps
I had not learned the proper submergence of emotions my father had
believed necessary to make the superior man, but I had had
excellent tutoring and put that to the test now. “What do you
mean?”
“You are Murdoc Jern and your father was a notorious
Guildman.” Hory used the blazing rod as if I were a child and
he were an instructor about to indicate some pertinent point on a
wall projection from a reading tape. “If you are not a full
member of the Guild, you have access to his connections. Your
father was killed for information he had, probably about”—with the rod Hory indicated the ring—“that. You were on Angkor
when it happened. Then you shipped out, having broken with your
family. You were on Tanth when your master Vondar Ustle was killed
under circumstances which suggest his death had been arranged. What
caused that Jern? Did he discover what you were carrying and plan
to inform the authorities? Whatever happened, matters did not go as
you expected, did they? You did not walk out free with your
master’s private gem stock to back you. But you did get off
world.
“The ship you lifted in is suspect as a part-time Guild
transport. They dropped you here, didn’t they? And later you
fell out with your bosses. You ought to have known you could not
stand up to the Guild. Or did you believe that with that beast of
yours you could do it? We will get the truth out of you with a
reader-helm—”
“When and if you get me to a Patrol base!”
“Oh I think that now there will be no chance of your
escaping. You, yourself, obligingly arranged that. But I am
forgetting, you are not shipwise, are you? You do not have the
‘feel.’ We have broken free of the traction and are
back on course. Now—” Still facing me with the ready rod,
Hory stooped and picked up Eet, a long string of furred body, by
the hind legs. “This goes into cold storage. The lab will
want to see it. And you shall go into another kind of storage,
until you are needed.”
He drove me with his heated rod out of the engine compartment,
toward the ladder which led to the upper levels. I backed slowly,
trying to see any small chance which might work for me. But even
though I might be reckless enough to charge him, he need only with
pressure of one finger bring that rod to top heat and lay it across
my face to discipline me into obedience.
Eet swung, a pitiful pendulum, from Hory’s hand. I looked
at his body and my hate was no longer hot but cold, clear and
deadly in me. And because I did look at Eet at that moment I saw my
chance. For Eet came to life, twisting up and around to bury
needle-sharp teeth in the hand which held him. And as Hory yelled
in pain and surprise I charged.