"Did he admire Starn so much?" Cytherni wondered in surprise. She had never suspected it. But that would help explain . . .
"Look!" Rob yelped. "What about these theories of Starn's, and what's he up to?"
How was she supposed to answer that? She understood Starn's work about as well as he did her art—which wasn't much. Did Starn view her work with the same kind of fond but uninterested indulgence with which she viewed his? Let's see . . . His main idea was that the Packs and the Olsaperns each had a segment of the truth, but to get anywhere they would have to put these segments together. But since they would not, he was working alone, trying to apply what he had learned of Olsapern science to understanding and extending the Novo senses. He was making some progress, especially when he worked with Billy's perception sense. They had discovered a large oil deposit and he tried last night to interest Higgins in it . . . Starn took disappointment awfully well. He took Higgins' rejection so good-naturedly last night, even though she knew how determined he was to get his work accepted.
"Are you sure you have the right understanding of what Starn's trying to do?" Rob demanded in disbelief. Cytherni frowned. Well, she thought she understood it fairly well. A combining of science and the Novo senses . . .
"Sacrilege!" muttered Rob. Cytherni blinked. She had never thought of it that way, but it was true. In the view of the Packs, the gifts of the Sacred Gene would be profaned by contact with the cursed evils of the Science Age. And for that matter, she realized, the Olsaperns' objections amounted to the same thing, except that they saw the positions of good and evil reversed.
Thank heavens she hadn't let Starn land the flier here to pick her up! Not that his old friends in Pack Foser would have . . . have harmed him, but they would have made their condemnation plain. And luckily it was she, not he, who had fallen from the flier.
"Starn's changed in more ways than one," Rob commented sadly. "The man who was our Raid Leader would never have let his wife do the more dangerous of two tasks."
What did Rob mean by that? Oh, yes. Starn piloting the flier while she pushed the packs out the hatch. Well, she was on her feet, having got up to bring Billy his breakfast, and Starn was the better pilot, and she wanted to make sure the right pack was dropped at the right Compound, and . . .
Bob was shaking his head. "You don't think he's changed," he said, "but that still doesn't sound like Starn to me."
On second thought, it didn't sound like Starn to her, either. But . . . well, people are complicated. They don't stay in what we think is their character all the time. So this morning Starn's chivalry had slipped a little. Perhaps he was quietly annoyed with her for getting them involved in such a silly adventure "Then this trip was your idea?" asked Rob.
Yes . . . or . . . well . . . Starn had put the idea into actual words first, but he was just going along with her desire to get the portraits of Billy to the grandparents.
"You think he was just going along with your wishes,"
Rob corrected her. "You don't know that."
You crummy, prying telepaths do the knowing.
"And knowing's not the supreme pleasure you think it is," Rob commented sourly. He paused, either to think or to communicate with someone outside, then said, "If you don't understand Starn's work, you probably don't understand Olsapern science. You know some of the things it can do, but not how."
Yes. Starn understands it better, but he complains about how little he really comprehends. But Billy, starting as a child, will learn it all.
All I know is the products—menergy, artificial bodies and new bodies, fliers, power sources the size of peas that last for years, beautiful houses and clothing and . . . What am I doing to you!
Rob grunted. "What we're learning isn't hurting us! Don't be afraid of that! Knowledge of Olsapern science won't shock us into primitivism like they claim. How is it the Olsaperns I've seen—the trading-post men, the flier pilots and defensemen—don't know about all this?" Because they're not the bright ones. They don't care to learn, so they're not taught much. They're the only ones allowed in reading distance of Pack men. What they know won't hurt you.
Rob chuckled caustically. "Or won't let us learn anything that could hurt the Olsaperns! What a pack of idiots!" He prowled restlessly about the room for a moment, then added, "But perhaps more dangerous, and less idiotic, than their dull-witted front men led us to believe. Unwittingly, Cytherni, you've done the Packs a great service today. We've been underestimating the power of the evil forces in the world. We know those forces better now, and can deal with them accordingly." He hesitated for several seconds before saying, "If the other Packs share the views of the men of Foser, there will be no more trading with—or raiding of—the Olsapern trading posts, for one thing. No further association at all."
"But the Olsaperns want friendship eventually," Cytherni protested aloud. "They want the peoples to come together!"
"Not while Pack men have their Novo senses, they don't," Rob contradicted.
This, Cytherni had to admit, was true. Obviously, her unplanned visit to Foser Compound had done more damage to Pack-Olsapern relations than could be repaired in a dozen generations. Every thought that passed through her head only seemed to make matters worse. She had to get out of Pack country!
"A flier landed several minutes ago, to dicker for your release," Rob informed her. "But I don't know if we'll let them have you. It's true you're more Olsapern than Pack woman now, but perhaps you're not beyond rehabilitation. Perhaps you can still be reclaimed for some worthy purpose of the Sacred Gene. Why haven't you and Starn had any children since Billy? Were you Treated?"
No. We could have children but . . . but—
"You're not sure of the answer," said Rob. "Maybe it was Starn's doing."
No. Why? Birth control is so simple there that . . . No, that's not it. I used to want children, but then I didn't.
Yes, I did, too, but I didn't want Starn to feel confined by a large family "Starn wanted children, too," said Rob. He studied her intently, attempting to ferret out thoughts that had never been fully conscious with her. At last he asked, "Did you feel, perhaps, that Starn was not ready to settle down to family life, that his work or something would require him, sooner or later, to take action that would be made more difficult for him by a large family?"
That sounded almost right. "I felt that he wasn't quite . . . domesticated," she said slowly.
Rob frowned and grunted. "I think maybe you were right. I'm having those Olsapern defensemen invited in. They won't know much, but maybe I can learn something from just what they don't know."
Let me go home with them. Please. I belong with Starn and Billy.
Rob shrugged impatiently and said nothing.
When the two defensemen were brought in a few minutes later, one was carrying an audiovisual transceiver equipped with droplegs. On its screen was the face of Higgins. Cytherni was relieved to see this trusted friend taking a personal hand in obtaining her release. Rob ignored the transceiver, and snapped a question at the defensemen. "Where's the flier she fell from?" The Olsaperns looked startled and remained silent.
"I suggest you direct your questions at me, Foser,"
Higgins' cross voice came from the speaker. "I'm—"
"I know who you are, Higgins," said Rob coldly. "I'll talk to you, but let it be understood that I take your failure to come dicker in person as an admission of your inferiority. We have Cytherni's knowledge now, so your old alibi of shielding us from damaging information no longer holds up. From now on you'll have to admit to yourselves that you're avoiding contact with us out of fear."
"Think what you please, Foser," retorted Higgins.
"I'm not parleying with you to argue that matter, but to obtain the return of Cytherni. I assume you know my offer—two special shipments of tropical fruits per winter to Foser Compound for a period of fifteen years, with the . . . "
"Your offer is rejected," said Rob. "The Pack's conditions for the release of Cytherni is that she will be
exchanged for her son Huill—Billy to you—when and if you capture Starn and the boy."
"Capture?" demanded Higgins innocently.
"Don't play games, Higgins!" Rob growled. "Don't try to pretend that Starn came dashing back to you for help after Cytherni fell out of the flier! That's what Starn led her to believe he'd do, but I don't buy it! Now, my deal is this: You catch Starn and the boy, turn the boy over to the Pack, with which he belongs, and Cytherni can either go or stay as she wishes. The boy is only six, and has the Novo sense of a Pack man. Even if his parents have turned Olsapern it's not too late to save him. That's the deal, Higgins. The only deal I'm offering."
Higgins' face stared threateningly for a moment before he grated, "Cytherni's misadventure has lifted the lid in more ways than one, Foser! We can recover her, whether you like it or not. We can flood Foser Compound with a sleep gas, for instance, that will knock all of you out. Our men could then safely remove Cytherni and, as an object lesson, sterilize every man, woman and child in the Pack!"
Rob laughed at him. "I imagine you could do that, Higgins, but I don't imagine you will. Not while Starn is on the loose you won't! You want Cytherni back, but that's not your primary objective. What damage she could do you was done during the first half hour after she landed. Except as bait for Starn, she's no longer important enough to warrant drastic action. And since Starn dumped her here, you can't really be sure she's attractive bait!"
"I wasn't dumped!" cried Cytherni, dismayed by the implications of the word, and by Rob's stubbornness.
"I fell!"
Rob turned to her and said in a more gentle tone than he had used before, "You were dumped, Cytherni. I'm sorry, but that's the way it was. Starn's flier didn't just happen to hit an air pocket, in the middle of a smooth flight, at the precise instant when you were hanging out the hatch. And it didn't just happen that you were unloading the chute packs instead of him. Or that he proposed starting the trip at an hour when Billy would have to be taken along. Or that Higgins isn't disputing my statement that Starn hasn't returned." He glanced at Higgins and said, "Cytherni believes this whole trip was her doing, not Starn's. There were some portraits of the boy she wanted delivered to the grandparents, you know. If you had agreed to deliver them last night, you would have wrecked Starn's scheme."
Higgins cursed angrily. "Why didn't you ask me to do it, Cytherni?" he demanded. "I'd have found a way. But Starn had me annoyed over one of his ridiculous arguments, and . . . well, when he asked me, I turned him down."
"Maybe he had that figured, too," said Rob.
Higgins glared at him. "There's a clever brain in that throw-back skull of yours, Foser. Maybe you can figure out what Starn's purpose is in all this, since you're so smart."
Rob shrugged. "Isn't that obvious to you, Higgins? He's continuing his work in isolation, where neither you, nor I, nor Cytherni can stop him! One thing I can agree with you about, Higgins, is that Starn is engaged in an evil pursuit. He's a bigger threat to the safety of the world than Nagister Nornt could've ever become!"
His voice grew wrathful as he continued, "But you, Higgins, are the guilty party in all this! Starn was a fine man, one who would have been long honored in the legends of Pack Foser, until you subverted him! You made him the madman he is today, a man with a freakish mind that is neither Pack nor Olsapern! That's what comes from an unnatural mingling between Pack men and Olsaperns! And that's why we will have no future associations with you, once this matter is ended. You may as well close down your stupid trading posts, Higgins. We won't even bother to raid them hereafter!"
After a frigid silence, Higgins said formally, "Your proposal to exchange Cytherni for the boy Billy will be discussed in our council, Foser. You will be advised of our decision. Let's go, men!"
The defensemen took the transceiver and marched out of the room.
"But . . . " murmured Cytherni, "if Starn did that, why didn't he take me along?"
Rob did not seem to hear her for a moment, but sat with a distracted look. At last he roused himself and looked at her. "Because your attitudes are pretty typically Olsapern. You disapprove of his work, although you try not to. In fact, you're jealous of his work, which has kept him from being the kind of man you want for a father of the children you haven't had."
"Oh," gulped Cytherni in a small voice. Then she turned and ran from the room, in search of some spot where her grief could be suffered in a semblance of privacy—though she knew there was no privacy to be had in Foser Compound.
Four days passed before an Olsapern flier again landed near the Compound. Once more the transceiver was brought into Rob's quarters, and Cytherni was invited to attend the parley.
Rob gave the image of Higgins a hard look and demanded, "Well?"
"The council has considered your proposal," Higgins said, "and while we don't like it we are willing to accept your terms."
"All right. Bring us the boy."
"The problem is," Higgins continued uncomfortably, "that we haven't yet located Starn and Billy. We know, in general, where they are, but that is a mountainous area of sizable extent, a strip two hundred and fifty miles long and we would estimate twenty miles wide."
"The offer," said Rob, "was for you to turn the boy over after he and his father were captured. If you haven't caught them yet, what are we talking about?"
"As you remarked yourself at our last meeting," said Higgins, "Starn is a grave threat to the safety of the world—to your people as well as our own. I agree with that, and as for my own role in making him the danger he is, well, let me assure you that this strengthens my resolve to compensate for past errors. However, the crucial fact is that we have not found him, and he must be found! Under the circumstances, we think a cooperative effort, a joint search, is justified."
Rob lifted an eyebrow. "Do I detect a more worried tone in your voice, Higgins? Perhaps you've checked that oil deposit Starn and Billy mapped. Was oil there?" Higgins' mouth tightened. "The map was accurate," he admitted.
"Anything else to shake you up?" asked Rob.
"Well . . . yes. We have means of locating lost persons, small tracking devices implanted in the body. In some manner, Starn found where these implants were in himself and his wife and son. Minutes before leaving, he put them out of action, probably with a focused ultrasonic beam. Those implants are small, and made intentionally hard to locate. Starn once returned to Foser Compound with such implants in him. Did any of your people know they were there?"
"No. I remember the time of which you speak," said Rob. "With these tracker devices not working, then, you have no way of locating Starn and Billy?"
"That's correct. The devices on his flier were not disturbed, however, and we have a plot of its course from the time it took off until it came down and sank in the ocean some nine hours later."
"Oh!" moaned Cytherni.
"But Starn and Billy chuted out long before then. Unfortunately, we cannot pinpoint the time they did so much closer than ten minutes, which leaves us with a considerable stretch of the flier's course to search. And we assume that Starn would not hike, with the boy, more than ten miles east or west, probably not that much.
"Anyway, he's already had four days for whatever it is he's doing. And I'll admit, Foser, that I'm now more convinced that he is . . . on the track of something that could be most unsettling to us all. If you're really convinced of your own statement that he is a serious threat, you must help us find him."
"That sort of entanglement with you," glowered Rob, "is exactly what we are determined to avoid."
"The feeling is mutual," flared Higgins, "but this is a task that has to be done!"
Rob said slowly, "I don't know just how we could help you, anyway. What did you have in mind?"
"We comb the territory with fliers, as we've been doing, but this time with one or more of your telepaths aboard each craft to detect Starn's mind when a flier comes in range."
Rob shook his head. "I guessed it was something like that. It won't work. The rub wou
ld be to come in range. And stay there long enough for a telepath to pick up and even start to identify Starn's thoughts. Keep in mind that maximum telepathic range is half a mile, and in the High Mountains, which I presume are the ones you're talking about, there are valleys over a quarter of a mile below the ridges. You couldn't cover the area so thoroughly as to be sure a flier would pass directly over Starn; each telepath would have to scan a strip of, say, a quarter of a mile on each side of the flier. The air can be rough over mountains, can't it? So your fliers would have to stay a couple of hundred feet above the ridgetops if they move with any speed at all.
"Maybe you've taken all that into account, all except the time it takes a telepath to detect a mind. It isn't instantaneous, Higgins. And it isn't certain. The detected mind has to be thinking thoughts the telepath can readily distinguish from his own. If Starn and the boy were down in a valley, they would be within extreme telepathic range of a flier passing low above the ridges for a very few seconds, unless the flier was moving extremely slow. So, unless you've got enough fliers, and we can round up enough telepaths, to creep through those mountains at treetop level, following the terrain up and down, we would have to be plain lucky to find Starn by that method. You could probably do as well with your infrared detectors as with our telepaths."
"You're sure of that?" asked Higgins.
"Yes." Rob frowned and added, "I've given some thought to a joint search myself since we last talked, because I guessed you wouldn't find Starn."
"Well, if my plan won't work, what will?" Higgins demanded.
"I'm not sure. We've got to remember that Starn's too much of a hunter not to know all the tricks of the hunted." Rob's eyes studied Cytherni. "There's one possibility I can think of, but that involves the active assistance of Starn's wife, and she isn't in a helpful frame of mind."
"Oh? How are you, Cytherni?" asked Higgins.
"Very well, thank you," she said.
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