"I don't know." Nik chose his words with care. "But Orkhad was not following the orders I had been given."
"Which were?"
The truth—if they did have a scanner on him, they would know he spoke the truth. And he was sure they had him under such observation.
"To keep Vandy safe—for the information he had—"
Commander i'Inad moved closer. "Vandy—information?" he repeated. "But the boy has no information they couldn't have learned by other sources. That's a lie!"
The Patrolman had turned his head, and Nik followed that line of sight. The machine that had been clicking away so steadily—he had never seen a scanner, but he was sure that was one. And now the Patrolman proved Nik correct.
"No, that is the truth as far as this one knows. What kind of information?"
Again Nik told them the truth. He put Leeds' first story to him into a few terse sentences. It sounded thin, retold like this, but the scanner would bear him out. He was developing an affection for that machine—so far.
"And you believed that?" The commander was highly incredulous.
Nik pulled himself up on the bunk where he had been lying.
"I believed it," he returned flatly. There was no use adding that he had wanted to believe it, that he was eager to, considering what acceptance of the story meant to him.
"But when you got here, Orkhad had a different tale?"
"Yes." Nik told them that also.
"So you took the boy and ran for it? Why?"
"It was the only thing to do. I thought we could hide out until the captain came—"
"This captain—Strode Leeds?"
Nik was not surprised when the Patrolman named Leeds. He must have picked up a lot from prisoners taken here in the refuge.
"Yes—Captain Leeds."
"Leeds has the boy now?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
This was the hard part. Could he defeat the scanner by thought? Nik was not sure it could be done, but it was his only chance.
"I can't tell you where; there's no map. But I can take you there." Two full truths—one hedging. Would the whole come out on the truth side in the report?
The commander, as well as the Patrolman, was watching the machine for some confirmation or denial Nik could not read.
"Well?" i'Inad demanded, not of Nik but of the Patrolman.
"True—"
For the first time, Nik's tension eased somewhat. He had beaten the scanner by that much. Heartened by that victory, he ventured to prod a little on his own.
"I need food for Vandy—soon—"
"Let's go now!" That was i'Inad.
"Leeds will have the boy where you left him?" The Patrolman was not so quick to pick that suggestion up.
Of that Nik had no doubts. His injury was enough to pin the captain to the island hill. He could not get away and take Vandy with him in the boy's present weak condition, and he would not abandon the one chance he had of buying his freedom. Nik nodded.
"Let's go!" i'Inad repeated. He grabbed at Nik, dragging him off the bunk with a rough jerk.
The Patrolman had crossed the room. Now he returned carrying a container of liquid, which he held out to Nik.
"Drink it!"
Nik surveyed the contents of the cup warily. There were a lot of rumors about the Patrol methods. He had no desire to go out of here drugged, obedient to orders in spite of his will. The green liquid had no odor, but he hesitated even as he held the cup to his lips.
The Patrol officer frowned. "It's no drug—not the kind you fear." He must have read Nik's thoughts or else the scanner reported that, too. "That's Patrol iron rations. You'll need it to keep going."
Nik had to believe him. His own weakness of body when he tried to move warned him that he could not make any such trip on his own. He drank, and the stuff was warm in his mouth, even more heated in his throat, and hot in his stomach as he swallowed.
"We have to have cin-goggles out there," he said. That was his worst remaining fear, that they might refuse to provide him with those. Suppose they would allow him use of goggles from time to time in order to point out landmarks, would keep him blind most of the journey as a prisoner without bonds?
"All right. We have those."
They went through the passage of the refuge, collecting an escort of Patrolmen on the way—six of them. But when they trod a path through rubble to the outside, Nik, in spite of the cins, was totally at a loss.
"Well, which way?" i'Inad wanted to know. "Are you trying to say you can't tell?"
"I can't—from here." Nik told of their escape through the tunnel cut. When he had finished, the Patrol officer nodded.
"All right, we'll go back through that."
"He's stalling!" rapped out the commander.
"No, he couldn't just have walked out with the boy. Such a bolt hole is far more probable. We'll try that tunnel."
Back into the refuge they went, to the terminal of the ancient ways. But in the tunnel no break showed. Instead, they were faced with an effective stopper of earth and rocks.
"Those explosions when you broke in—" Nik found the answer. "They must have plugged this—"
"Clear it," the Patrol officer ordered.
Something more powerful than a blaster ray snapped on, and the barrier melted at its touch. But only more rock and soil poured in.
"That's not going to do it," the officer said a moment later.
"Take a bearing, Dagama. We'll try it over the surface with that as a guide."
Then they were back at the original refuge door, climbing up to the earth, guided by the small cube their advance scout held, which gave off a small beeping sound.
Thirteen
They came into the city ruins by the emptied sea basin from a different angle. But once he sighted the shoreline, Nik was confident of his path. As they went through what must once have been streets, he eyed every shadowed rubble cave, every opening leading to darkness. What had truly happened to him back there by the reef, he did not know. That the city had its inhabitants still, he now believed, inhabitants of one kind or another—degenerate Disians or animals.
There was no blaster in his belt hooks, but the rest of the party were armed. And Nik noted that they were as much interested in possible ambush spots as he was. Finally he dared to ask a question.
"How did you find me?"
"Fighting off a hunting party," replied the officer crisply. "One of our scouts had sighted you from the cliff top. He followed along until all at once you came out from some rocks and walked straight at trouble. When they jumped you, Riswold beamed the one who had you down—"
"Then they did fish me out with that light!" Nik was remembering now. "Just as that thing did on the ramp way—"
The officer paid no attention to that, for he was continuing. "Our men picked you up by a reef in that direction."
"Yes, we go down to the sea bottom here and then head that way."
Nik rubbed his head. He had no idea whether this was morning or evening or of what day. The outward world, even when viewed through goggles, was darkening. And outside the refuge, the humidity again caught them in its soggy grip. Commander i'Inad was breathing in short gasps, and even one or two of the Patrol guard seemed similarly affected. The restorative drink had strengthened Nik, but still he felt as if he were walking thigh deep in water, pushing sluggishly against a strong current that might at any moment sweep him off his footing to be perilously carried away.
They descended to the first level of the sea bottom. Visibility was fading. And then Nik saw the telltale flash on the horizon. Storm! Such a deluge as he had seen before? He stopped to watch the play of lightning.
"What's the matter?"
"Get along with you!" i'Inad caught Nik's shoulder and shoved him on with a force that almost sent him sprawling before he could reply to the Patrol officer's question.
"Storm coming—" Nik got out. "And they're bad here. To be caught in the open—"
The water that ha
d cascaded over the shore cliff, cutting hundreds of swift-flowing streams, to flood this portion of the sea bottom and to build up rain lakes below, how high did that water reach? And if one were caught in the open, could it be fatal? Nik did not know, and he was not eager to find out.
"We'll have to find cover," he told the Patrol officer, knowing he could not appeal to the hostile commander.
"What do you think, Barketh?" i'Inad asked the other. Maybe that play of lightning and the horrible pre-storm smother of humid air made some impression on the commander.
"Planet's weather is definitely unbalanced. Yes, a storm could be nasty. And there're signs this is a drain basin."
"We can't go back!" i'Inad protested. "The boy—we have to reach him soon—if we can believe this—this graxal here!"
"How far is the reef? Can we make that before the storm breaks?"
Nik had no idea, but he did know that this was a time for action and not just stopping to consider what action. He started on at a trot, the best pace he could keep under the weight of the humid air. Yes, the spine of the reef promised shelter of a sort. And, though he had very little experience with Dis's worst, Nik did believe that they needed some protection against the coming fury. How long did they have? None of them knew. But no one of that squad attempted to stop him; they only stepped up their own pace to join his flight.
The visibility was shrinking fast. Clouds always hung heavy over Dis, but now the blanket was night-thick, and splinters of lightning dazzled rather than helped their sight. A snarling screech—shadows fleeing across their path gave warning tongue. For several paces, Nik ran beside one of the black furred hunters, and then the Disian animal drew ahead.
Nik's apprehension was as much a weight on his laboring body as the exercise. Had they—or rather he—made the wrong choice? Should they have returned to the ruined city to wait out the storm? He was not even sure now if they were heading in the right direction for the reef.
Flashes that were not of the Disian world stretched paths before them. Nik had forgotten the torches the Patrol must carry. That white-yellow light picked out the creatures that bounded and scuttled-raced for shelter. Another time Nik might have been amazed at the amount of life that had broken out of hiding on the sea bottom. Now he was intent only upon what might lie ahead, on how soon one of those beams would pick up the reef.
The boom of thunder that had begun as a sullen muttering was now creeping closer with a beat that carried a vibration to fill the whole world and even their bodies. It was as confusing in its steady "pound-pound" as that whistling that had bewildered Nik when the Disians had hunted him.
As yet there was no rain, but he feared the buffeting of the torrents when they came. The frenzied flight of the animals about them underlined the danger he suspected.
Rocks stood out more frequently in the path of those flash beams. They must be drawing close to the reef. Then the lightning struck ahead, and the first of the rain came like a blotting curtain to swallow them. Nik saw the flashes of the torches, but he was no longer aware of any of the men near him. A small squealing thing shot between his feet, tripping him up. He fell heavily, to lie gasping the thick air into his laboring lungs, too winded for the moment to regain his feet. A Patrolman loomed out of the murk, stopped and caught at him, tugged him up, and pulled him along for a space.
Water poured down upon them. This was like drowning while one walked on land. Nik flung his arm across his nose and mouth, trying to make a sheltered pocket in which to breathe. He staggered under the weight of water. At least the wind was not as great here as it had been back in the city ruins. He brought up against a rock and clung to it with the same frenzy as a man would embrace an anchor when being borne along in a wild current.
Another Patrolman, or perhaps it was the same one who had aided Nik, blundered up, and this time Nik put out a hand to draw him to that anchorage. Water streamed over them, about them; it gurgled calf high about their legs. There was nothing in the world but the fury of the rain and thunder, the crash and clash of lightning. It was weather gone wild with a force Nik could not have imagined possible.
There was nothing to do but to cling to the rock. To venture on in this was to invite disaster. The Patrolman held to the other side of that anchor with the same grim determination. Water rose about them. Had they come to a stop in the middle of a rain river? It was flowing quickly, pulling at them knee high now. Nik flattened his body against the rough surface of the boulder and put his head on his arm, hoping to breathe better. How much of this could one take? His hands were growing numb. What if he could not keep that hold? Would he be swept by the stream now rising to his thighs? Only a short way on, that stream must plunge over the second cliff to the lower level, doubtless going to feed one of the rain lakes. Hold on—he had to!
Lightning—a flash that was blinding that deadened the senses. Now the wind was coming, driving the rain lashes across the rock and the men, limpet-fast to its sides, a wind that strove to pry them free from those desperate holds, to snap them away in its grasp.
Air—he had to have air to breathe! Nik choked in panic; he fought for each gasp. This was drowning. The water tugged and washed at him now waist high. But to abandon his hold was death, and Nik knew that.
He held, his muscles aching and then going numb, his consciousness retreating into nightmare, and then, past nightmare, into a near blackout. Yet he held on.
A hissing—not steady but broken as if by gasps. Inch by inch, Nik crept back from the refuge into which his mind had retreated. There was still rain, but the wild tumult of the storm was less. He recognized the signs. That hissing—
There was the sharp pain of cramped neck and shoulder muscles as he lifted his head and looked up into a monster's glowing eyes. The thing, squatting on the top of the rock to which Nik clung, flexed its wings and darted its head toward the off-worlder. Nik fell back, his arms and legs too numb to respond naturally.
He splashed into the water. His body was pulled away, though he fought wildly for a handhold, some anchorage. There was a cry—sounding more human than any screech from the winged thing—and a moment later another body came whirling through the water, striking against Nik. Together they were borne helplessly onward until another rock loomed out of the dark and they struck against it, Nik on top.
What followed next was never clear. He was out of that flood, and so was the other—the Patrolman who had shared his refuge. But the latter lay very still, his body responding a little to the tug of the water. Nik crawled on his hands and knees to what might relatively be termed land. Now without knowing just why, he turned to tug weakly at the other, winning him out of the flood by small pulls.
The rain shrank to a drizzle, but it shadowed the world about them so that Nik could only be sure of what lay within reach. He looked down at the Patrolman who lay face up, the rain glistening on his skin, on his face—!
This was Barketh, and his goggles were gone! Nik's hand flew to his own eyes, just to make sure, though he should have known he would not be able to see this much had his own cins not been in place.
He could see; the Patrolman could not. It was as simple as that. The mishap the other had suffered gave Nik the advantage, and how could he best use it?
Swiftly he transferred the blaster from Barketh's belt to his own empty hooks, then the ration bag—He rolled the body over to free the pouch that had swung from a shoulder strap, terrified lest that also had been lost. No, it had been too securely latched. Each of the Patrol carried supplies, now Nik had this bag, enough to support Vandy for days.
Barketh had been so helpless in his grasp that Nik made a quick examination. The Patrolman was not dead, but a gash on his forehead supplied the reason for his present state. Now Nik had a choice. He could stay where he was and use a blaster to signal his position as soon as the rain subsided, or he could go on with the supplies in freedom.
"Wake up!" He shook Barketh. No need to pour water on the Patrolman; the rain was doing that. But Nik c
ould not drag the other any farther, and neither could he go off and leave a blind and helpless man on the edge of a rain river.
Barketh moaned just as Nik was giving up hope of bringing him around. He opened his eyes, and his expression changed from vacancy to fear.
"Dark—" Nik had to lean close to hear that word. He spoke distinctly in return.
"Your goggles are gone."
"You—who are you?" Barketh struggled to lever himself up, digging his elbows into the muddy ground.
"I'm Hacon." Nik clung to the name Vandy had given him. "Now listen, the rain is slacking. I've your supply bag, and I'm going on with it. Here's your torch. When you can't feel the rain, shine it as a signal."
But, Nik wondered, would such a signal bring more than just Barketh's men? The furred hunters—the Disians? He felt for the blaster he had taken from the other. To leave a man without a weapon, without cins, alone here—
"You have goggles?" Barketh demanded.
"Yes. But I'm keeping them!"
Barketh felt for his blaster. "You took that, too?"
"Yes. I'm leaving you the torch. And wait—" Nik twisted out of the Patrolman's hold. They could not be too far from the reef. And there Barketh would have shelter. Hurriedly, he explained.
"You won't get far—" the other commented levelly.
"Maybe not, but I have the food, and Vandy needs it. How long would it take you now to get your squad rounded up again, for you to get going?"
"A point—small—but a point. All right, for the time being you give the orders. Stow me away and get going. I agree the boy has to have food."
He held out his hand, but Nik avoided that too easy contact. Reaching behind Barketh, he took hold of the Patrolman's belt and pulled him to his feet. Remaining at the other's back, Nik gave him a small push forward.
"Use your torch," he ordered, "and march."
He had slung the strap of the supply pouch over his own shoulder, where it swung loosely. The light cut a path through the dark, picking up more rock outcrops. Suddenly Nik heard a shout in the murk. He thought it came from above and to the right, as if they had been sighted by some scout who had made the reef. With that he loosed his hold on Barketh's belt, at the same time giving the Patrolman a swift shove, which he hoped would at least momentarily send him off balance and keep him from turning his light on Nik as a target.
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