by Andre Norton
They did not pause at the gaming places nor the drinking dens but threaded a way straight for the port where the brilliant lights about the ships provided a beacon against the murky ways of the surrounding territory.
There were three ships on the landing apron, spaced well apart. That which belonged to the off-worlders, Farree knew, was the closest to the gates, and there was scaffolding about its outer skin though no workmen were visible at this hour. Beyond was a small Patrol skimmer, a messenger vessel which had landed only two days earlier with information for the local League council. Beyond that stood a merchant-class vessel, larger than that which the off-worlders had claimed, with a battered, space-scoured insignia on one fin.
The two he followed passed the gate, and the guard there asked no questions as they went on toward the ship under reconstruction. Farree must follow them. But to get past the light, which was full at the gates, and the guard there – could he?
Hunkering down in a noisome pocket between two of the nearer Limits tents, Farree bent his head forward until his forehead rested on his crossed arms. He strove with frantic need for an answer.
It was as if he whirled out into a space that was filled with almost invisible ribbons floating and spinning, seeking the right one to guide him to his needed goal. There were flashes of thought, which he tried earnestly to shut out that he might seek single-mindedly. Then —
"Little brother!" Not the muddled response he got from Toggor, but as clear as if the words had been spoken in one of his prick-pointed ears.
"In." Certainly he had little to report – only the two meetings. Yet he also had a strong feeling that the news he carried was needed, and there was little time. "Bring me in."
For a heart-shaking moment he thought that he had lost contact – that it was as it was between him and Toggor – his talent was too limited, too diffuse to hold. Then there came strong and steady the answer: "Be ready – near the gate."
He went forward on all fours, feeling the prick of Toggor's claws and bristle hair as the smux rode in the fore of his robe. So he reached the edge of the shadows – beyond which lay only the merciless light of the gate.
There was someone approaching from the opposite side, and he saw the hood of a cloak slip back from the head of that brilliant hair as deep as any Milisand ruby in shade. The Lady was coming for him herself.
She halted before the guard and spoke, the murmur of her voice carrying but not her words. Her right hand was up, and she twirled something between her fingers with a rhythmic movement.
"Now!"
Farree had to trust. He ran forward on his spindly legs, both hands pressed over the smux lest he lose Toggor. When he stumbled over a stone and it moved with a click, the guard did not look around. Then Farree dared the gate itself, putting all his strength into a dash which carried him by the Lady Maelen and the guard with a speed that near sent him sprawling forward. But he kept to his feet and hurried toward the hut where the bartle was housed.
Outside of that was the Lord-One Krip, and with him the two men Farree had followed from the Limits. The hunchback pushed himself behind the hut, hoping that he had not been sighted. Why the guard had not seen him when he was in plain sight at the gate he could not guess.
He lay nearly flat now as Toggor climbed up and back to squat upon his hump. The Lady was still at the gate, with the guard listening to her as if his position depended upon her words. But she had dropped her hand and the shining thing had disappeared. Finally the man saluted and she turned away, coming back toward the hut.
Farree drew a deep breath and huddled where he was. He heard a little chirping call. The smux scrambled down and scuttled to the fore of the hut, leaving Farree for a moment or two a little angry that the creature would so readily obey that summons from another.
"Well enough. If you bring a quittance from your captain then we shall deal." That was the Lord-One Krip talking. "We sign only until first planetfall, you understand."
"That is to my advantage also. Captain." It was a new voice – that of the spaceman who wore the insignia? "Also the Dragon already carries a senior astrogator. When do you lift?"
"Soon enough. See me tomorrow with your papers. And yours, Quanhi – have you full clearance for hire?"
"I will bring a statement from the councilor. I am fit again and want nothing more than to be free of Grant's World. Few enough ships touch here to give me much chance."
"We will consider."
"Right enough!" Together, the two Farree had followed turned and went back toward the field gate.
Farree crept around the side of the hut, putting it between him and the gate. He made a last dash and took himself inside before Lord-One and the Lady Maelen entered. The bartle moved uneasily, and Farree heard a low growl out of the dark. But another shape stood over him, licking at his face – Yazz giving her usual exuberant welcome.
"What have you learned?" The Lady Maelen came first, and at a twist of her fingers there was a dim light in the hut.
What had he learned? Bits and pieces. Perhaps none really were of importance. Yet Russtif had a place and a part, and the dealer in beasts was for Farree the symbol of evil, an evil that could reach out and touch these two. He could not have found words to explain what the Lady and the Lord-One meant to him, he could only offer all he could summon to their service.
"Those who were there," he began in haste so his words were almost a gabble. Then he caught hold of himself. "One, he who wears no badge, met with Russtif and a guard. They said – " He summoned the few words he had caught: "No pilot – stay that way – stellars like bits – and L'Kumb – he plans something. The badgeless one meets with a guard again and then with he who wears a badge."
"Stellars like bits – " Lord-One Krip repeated. "Where would such a speech be the truth?"
"On Sehkmet," the Lady Maelen returned promptly. "That tale is one of the legends of the star lanes now."
"But that world is fully guarded. No raider, or even a Guild-owned vessel, could set down anywhere there."
"Yet those who found it first could carry away information of perhaps other finds – a danger we considered from the first. And the clutching fingers of this Guild extend far. Perhaps they think to plant one – two of their own among us."
"We would read them."
"Would we?" the Lady Maelen asked then. "It is well known that the Guild has access to many discoveries that even the Patrol does not know. Remember, on Sehkmet there were mind shields which we could not break."
"But those were – "
"Of the dead old ones, you would say? We cannot be sure they do not otherwise exist. What mankind has once discovered can be found again." She turned to Farree.
"You heard no more?"
He shook his head. "It is said that Russtif would link with L'Kumb if he could. It was in a gambling hut that he met with the badgeless one – "
"Pitor Dune of Chamblee, suffering with spotted fever, was left here when his ship lifted four months ago. And this other, Quanhi, who wishes a full berth for himself as astrogator," the Lord-One Krip said slowly. "We have a half crew at least. And now the rigger has his men on the jump to get finished, saying frankly he must have the money."
"It links," the Lady Maelen said slowly. "We have had trouble in finding men. Yiktor is no major base, even now when the League plays more a role in her current history."
Lord-One Krip laughed. "Ah, but they do not know what powers the Thassa have – the Thassa and She Who Slept."
The Lady shook her head almost violently. "Not so, Krip. Nothing did I learn from her. She was – the real part of Her – long dead or gone elsewhere. I but banished the will which kept her waiting. But we bewilder you, small one."
She smiled down at Farree. "Know that we are Thassa, a people so old we have forgotten our beginnings. It was given to us to find a mighty treasure of the Forerunners on the planet Sehkmet and there was trouble there, for the Guild would also plunder it. The Guild lost and the winning was ours. We seek a ship of our own an
d so here we found the Far Seeker for sale, one which will serve us well. But the time is short. The three rings will shine on Yiktor our home world, and to that world we must go. It is a tangled tale in our past – you will have the hearing of it some time."
"I?" Parree strove to lift his head higher. As if she knew what frustration moved him, the Lady knelt and laid her hands one on each shoulder.
"If you wish to come, little one, then it shall be so," she repeated the earlier promise.
Farree drew a deep breath. To stride the stars as if he were straight and strong and stood as tall as the Lord-One himself – that was something he had not dared trust.
"Yes – oh, yes!" His own hands flew to his shoulders to cover hers where they rested warm and welcoming. "Oh – yes!" He could have shouted that aloud.
"So be it." She nodded. "Now let us think concerning this man Quanhi who seems so willing to come – "
"He thinks we lift for Greater Marth," said Lord-One Krip.
"Let him continue to think so. The voyage tape I hold myself," she answered. "And we need no astrogator in truth once the tape is locked in – only the port authorities require we have one aboard. As for those trying some tricks with us – " Now it was her turn to laugh, raising her hand to gesture to the rest of them, Farree, Yazz, and Bojor the bartle as well as the smux clinging now to her own shoulder "I think we may have some surprises for them."
Chapter 5.
He whom Farree had spied upon came again to the bartle's hut. The hunchback shrank to the rear of the hut, trusting the big animal. Toggor sat on his shoulder, eyestalks aloft, and beamed what Farree already guessed – that this was the one he had watched.
The man was young, though it was always difficult to tell the true age of any spacer since ship time and planet time were different and those who spent most of their days within the hulls of the sky ships did not age so swiftly. His badgeless uniform was shabby, but he seemed clear-eyed and quick to answer, not as if he were someone rightfully grounded.
"For the voyage only, Dune," Lord-One Krip repeated. "And are there any more willing to take service?"
"I can get you twenty," returned Pitor Dune. "That you would want them is another question. They may have been grounded for more than illness or ill luck. Quanhi is, however, a good man."
"I have said we would take him, as you heard, but to change ships in mid voyage – " Lord-One Krip began.
"May be the sign of an unsteady crewman, yes. What excuse does he offer to you?" Lady Maelen asked of Dune.
She might be checking stories.
"None, except he can expect no further promotion within the Dragon, and that is an outland trader which does not set down on many worlds with larger ports and more traffic."
"We shall take him when he brings quittance," Lord-One Krip returned. "In the meantime, you also bring your papers as you promised."
The crewman started out across the field. On Parree's shoulder the smux moved, and the hunchback caught a fraction of emotion once more—uncertainty, shadowed by fear. Behind him Bojor gave a deep grunt. Instantly Lady Maelen turned her head to observe the tall beast. Farree caught her questioning concern.
It came as with the smux—no words, only the feeling of wrongness, of the need for being aware.
"We are warned," the Lady commented. "It seems that there is something about our new shipmate which the small ones do not like." She was beaming soothingly, promising that there would be no trouble with the strangers. Once more Lord-One Krip questioned Farree. "Russtif, yes. His interest I can understand. He was overpaid for one of his slave things," the Lady mused. "Yet had we bargained, that would have given him time to wonder, to think . . ." For the first time Farree dared question the off-worlder.
"Lady, he will think, does think. From him perhaps others have learned."
She made a face and shrugged her shoulders. "I lose my caution when I answer a help cry. Perhaps we were wrong. But the man was ugly enough to have killed this little one." She held out her hand, and the smux extended a long curl of tongue to touch the tip of her finger.
"You have fitted the tape?" Lord-One Krip changed the subject.
"Last night when the workmen left," she answered. "I have learned much, and perhaps even this new body of mine retained some level of knowledge. When we lift we do so for Yiktor."
New body? wondered Farree. What story lay behind that? But he dared not question now.
"There has certainly been a change in the fitters," her companion returned. "They have kept on the job steadily this afternoon. Tomorrow we can move Bojor aboard. By the next sunrise we shall lift ship."
"Providing we get this astrogator Quanhi. But, Krip, of this I am sure, we shall get him, and for no reason which means us well. Our only protection is our sealed tape that cannot be withdrawn by any except my own hand."
"And that tape was bought on Ballard. The Dragon last raised from that world," the other answered her. "That is an open port – "
She nodded. "If we go threatened from the left, we can only hope for aid from the right. On no other world are such tapes for sale, and we had to deal with those outside the law of the League in order to get it. News travels near as fast as thought. Ah, here comes our new shipmate and with him Quanhi – you are sure that this is the one who met him in the Limits, small one?"
The Lady moved aside a fraction from the doorway and Farree could see out into the lighted field. He would be certain of that emblazoned badge anywhere, but as for the man – he could not be sure. So he reported.
"Quanhi," Lady Maelen repeated the name. "And of no world – perhaps a Free Trader then."
"Not so," Lord-One Krip snapped. He was frowning now, his attention all for the man coming toward them. "We shall see how much this one desires to become one of the crew," Lord-One Krip observed. "Stay in the shadows," he spoke now to the hunchback. "It is better that they do not see you and perhaps speak of you."
Farree speedily hunkered back, Toggor riding on his shoulder. Bojor moved aside as if ordered, giving only a snuffing sniff in the hunchback's direction. Yazz was lying full length, lost in the shadows at the back of the hut.
The man from the other ship looked even younger in this stronger light than the other – with an open expression which Farree found hard to think of as belonging to a plotter. He answered Lord-One Krip's questions freely and openly but —
In spite of the order given Farree and his own uneasiness, he sent a single tendril, thread fine, toward the other's mind. And he met —
Nothingness!
Not a barrier, not the swirl of alienness which marked the smux, the bartle, and Yazz. Simply an emptiness, as if no one stood there at all. That was so frightening that, for a full moment, he shivered and strove to the edge even farther away. Yet when he opened the eyes he had squinted shut, there was a man like any other walking the Limits or the upper town.
He had heard tales – always told with gusto but never believed – of how, on some distant world, there were beings with the look of men but who were in truth machines. Those would even think when properly supplied with the right tapes, just as a ship could be guided, once in space, to a chosen world. Was he now fronting one of those fearsome things neither living nor dead?
Like their bargain with Dune, this other one was quickly struck, but, as the astrogator left, Maelen spoke softly, using a language Farree did not know. He heard harshness in the Lord-One Krip's quick answer. The Lady looked over her shoulder to where Farree crouched.
"Mind touch?"'
He knew what she meant and first shook his head and then, fearing she could not see, answered in words.
"There was nothing. Nothing at all!"
"A shield," Lord-One Krip said then, "and that is surely Guild. But if they knew us they also know that we would detect such at once and be warned off."
"A machine one?" Farree ventured.
"What do you know of such?" Lady Maelen asked.
"Only stories," he answered. "No one believes them tru
e."
"Yet once such things were," she answered slowly. "Once the Thassas knew such. But also I do not understand why they would send us a well-shielded one."
"They may think that it is only with each other and with the animal ones we can communicate," Lord-One Krip said slowly. "Yet the Guild have the reputation of taking nothing and no one on trust. There are many races and species in space. The Zacanthans in their rolls of history have only a partial listing of such and their attributes both physical and mental. They did not even know of the Thassa until we met on Yiktor. There may be many others – even a race born with a natural mind shield. Still, it argues planning on their part. This is a warning, for it goes with all we know of the Guild."
The Thieves Guild had spread and entwined world after world – where star rovers went, sooner or later the Guild followed. They were reputed to be masters of strange knowledge and devices which they stole or bought before the Patrol realized that such existed.
Farree ran his tongue across his lips and then asked in a small voice: "Could it be known that time is of importance to your plans, Lord-One, and that you would chance taking whoever offered because of that?"
"Yes," Lord-One Krip replied, "that makes sense. However, these two may have defenses or weapons of which we know nothing. And to blast off with such aboard – "
Toggor moved. His eyestalks were all extended to the farthest limit and swung so that they pointed after the man who had just left.
A fuzzy picture in Farree's mind. One which the Lady Maelen must have picked up as quickly as the hunchback.
"He is not a machine—that one," she said. "The smux finds true life there and danger."
"Yazz, Bojor." The Lord-One looked to the two other animals.
"Live. Like Yazz. Live," answered that one at once. The bartle growled, sitting up on his broad and weighty haunches, making gestures of holding something in his front paws.
"I think," Lady Maelen said slowly, "that we may have our own warning alerts from directions which our new shipmates will not guess. They can accept animals performing because of threats or promises, but not little ones who share with us that true life of all that is equal in Molester's scales of being. We shall mount our safeguards. You have made your own lock installments on the cages?" She turned to Lord-One Krip.
