inthis North American concentration camp and that they are beingtransposed out in small batches and replaced by others airlifted infrom India. This lot was sold to a Calera named Nebu-hin-Abenoz, thechieftain of a hill town, Careba, about fifty miles south-west of theplantation. There were two hundred and fifty in this batch; thisCoru-hin-Irigod only bought the batch he sold at the plantation."
* * * * *
The aircar lost speed and altitude; below, the countryside was dottedwith conveyer heads, each spatially coexistent with some outtimepolice post or operation. There were a great many of them; the westerncoast of North America was a center of civilization on manyparatemporal sectors, and while the conveyer heads of the commercialand passenger companies were scattered over hundreds of Fifth Leveltime lines, those of the Paratime Police were concentrated upon one.The anti-grav-car circled around a three-hundred-foot steel tower thatsupported a conveyer head spatially coexistent with one on a top floorof some outtime tall building, and let down in front of a lowprefabricated steel shed. A man in police uniform came out to meetthem. There was a fifty-foot conveyer dome inside, and a fifty-footred-lined circle that marked the transposition point of an outtimeconveyer. They all entered the dome, and the operator put on thetransposition field.
"You haven't heard the worst of it yet." Skordran Kirv was saying. "Onthis time line, we have reason to think that the native,Nebu-hin-Abenoz, who bought the slaves, actually saw the slavers'conveyer. Maybe even saw it activated."
"If he did, we'll either have to capture him and give him amemory-obliteration, or kill him," Vall said. "What do you know abouthim?"
"Well, this Careba, the town he bosses, is a little walled town up inthe hills. Everybody there is related to everybody else; this man wehave, Coru-hin-Irigod, is the son of a sister of Nebu-hin-Abenoz'swife. They're all bandits and slavers and cattle rustlers and whathave you. For the last ten years, Nebu-hin-Abenoz has been buyingslaves from some secret source. Before the Kholghoor Sector peoplebegan coming in, they were mostly white, with a few brown people whomight have been Polynesians. No Negroes--there's no black race on thissector, and I suppose the paratime slavers didn't want too manyquestions asked. Coru-hin-Irigod, under narco-hypnosis, said that theywere all outlanders, speaking strange languages."
"Ten years! And this is the first hint we've had of it," Vall said."That's not a bright mark for any of us. I'll bet the slave populationon some of these Esaron time lines is an anthropologist's nightmare."
"Why, if this has been going on for ten years, there must have beenmillions upon millions of people dragged from their own time linesinto slavery!" Dalla said in a shocked voice.
"Ten years may not be all of it," Vall said. "This Nebu-hin-Abenozlooks like the only tangible lead we have, at present. How does heoperate?"
"About once every ten days, he'll take ten or fifteen men and go aday's ride--that may be as much as fifty miles; these Caleras havegood horses and they're hard riders--into the hills. He'll take a bigbag of money, all gold. After dark, when he has made camp, a couple ofstrangers in Calera dress will come in. He'll go off with them, andafter about an hour, he'll come back with eight or ten of thesestrangers and a couple of hundred slaves, always chained in batches often. Nebu-hin-Abenoz pays for them, makes arrangements for the nextmeeting, and the next morning he and his party start marching theslaves to Careba. I might add that, until now, these slaves have beensold to the mines east of Careba; these are the first that have gotteninto the coastal country."
"That's why this hasn't come to light before, then. The conveyer comesin every ten days, at about the same place?"
"Yes. I've been thinking of a way we might trap them," Skordran Kirvsaid. "I'll need more men, and equipment."
"Order them from Regional or General Reserve." Vall told him. "Thisthing's going to have overtop priority till it's cleared up."
He was mentally cursing Vulthor Tharn's procedure-bound timidity asthe conveyer flickered and solidified around them and the overhead redlight turned green.
* * * * *
They emerged into the interior of a long shed, adobe-walled andthatch-roofed, with small barred windows set high above the earthfloor. It was cool and shadowy, and the air was heavy with thefragrance of citrus fruits. There were bins along the walls, somepartly full of oranges, and piles of wicker baskets. Another conveyerdome stood beside the one in which they had arrived; two men in whitecloaks and riding boots sat on the edge of one of the bins, smokingand talking.
Skordran Kirv introduced them--Gathon Dard and Krador Arv, specialdetectives--and asked if anything new had come up. Krador Arv shookhis head.
"We still have about forty to go," he said. "Nothing new in theirstories; still the same two time lines."
]
"These people," Skordran Kirv explained, "were all peons on the estateof a Kharanda noble just above the big bend of the Ganges. The Crouthahit their master's estate about a ten-days ago, elapsed time. Intelling about their capture, most of them say that their master's wifekilled herself with a dagger after the Croutha killed her husband,but about one out of ten say that she was kidnaped by the Croutha. Twodifferent time lines, of course. The ones who tell the suicide storysaw no firearms among the Croutha; the ones who tell the kidnap storysay that they all had some kind of muskets and pistols. We're makingsynthetic summaries of the two stories."
"We're having trouble with the locals about all these strangers comingin," Gathon Dard added. "They're getting curious."
"We'll have to take a chance on that," Vall said. "Are theinterrogations still going on? Then let's have a look-in at them."
The big double doors at the end of the shed were barred on the inside.Krador Arv unlocked a small side door, letting Vall, Dalla and GathonDard out. In the yard outside, a gang of slaves were unloading a bigwagon of oranges and packing them into hampers; they were guarded by acouple of native riflemen who seemed mostly concerned with keepingthem away from the shed, and a man in a white cloak was watching theguards for the same purpose. He walked over and introduced himself toVall.
"Golzan Doth, local alias Dosu Golan. I'm Consolidated OuttimeFoodstuffs' manager here."
"Nasty business for you people," Vall sympathized. "If it's anyconsolation, it's a bigger headache for us."
"Have you any idea what's going to be done about these slaves?"Golzan Doth asked. "I have to remember that the Company has fortythousand Paratemporal Exchange Units invested in them. The top officewas very specific in requesting information about that."
Vall shook his head. "That's over my echelon," he said. "Have to bedecided by the Paratime Commission. I doubt if your company'll suffer.You bought them innocently, in conformity with local custom. Ever buyslaves from this Coru-hin-Irigod before?"
"I'm new, here. The man I'm replacing broke his neck when his horseput a foot in a gopher hole about two ten-days ago."
Beside him, Vall could see Dalla nod as though making a mental note.When she got back to Home Time Line, she'd put a crew of mediums towork trying to contact the discarnate former plantation manager; atRhogom Institute, she had been working on the problem of return of adiscarnate personality from outtime.
"A few times," Skordran Kirv said. "Nothing suspicious; all localstuff. We questioned Coru-hin-Irigod pretty closely on that point, andhe says that this is the first time he ever brought a batch ofNebu-hin-Abenoz's outlanders this far west."
* * * * *
The interrogations were being conducted inside the plantation house,in the secret central rooms where the paratimers lived. Skordran Kirvused a door-activator to slide open a hidden door.
"I suppose I don't have to warn either of you that any positivestatement made in the hearing of a narco-hypnotized subject--" hebegan.
"... Has the effect of hypnotic suggestion--" Vall picked up afterhim.
"... And should be avoided unless such suggestion is intended," Dallafinished.
Skordran Kirv la
ughed, opening another, inner door, and stood aside.In what had been the paratimers' recreation room, most of thefurniture had been shoved into the corners. Four small tables had beenset up, widely spaced and with screens between; across each of them,with an electric recorder between, an almost naked Kharanda slavefaced a Paratime Police psychist. At a long table at the far side ofthe room, four men and two girls were working over stacks of cards andtwo big charts.
"Phrakor Vuln," the man who was working on the charts introducedhimself. "Synthesist." He introduced the
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