by E. C. Tubb
"How about Jwani?" Santis added. "He hopes to gain so why isn't he willing to help us?"
"He's willing to tell us how to find the stones. Supply maps and other things. If he gives more he'll demand a share of the find. A half-the usual arrangement-in return for a stake. And he doesn't want to be associated with us on an official level." Dumarest paused, thinking. "Marta was wily, she knew the value of money. Are you sure they found all she had?"
Kemmer said, "Holding out on us, you mean?"
"She didn't have to do that." Santis was quick to her defense. "She gave us charity and we were glad to take it. What she earned was hers." He looked at Dumarest. "What's on your mind, Earl?"
"Jewelry-personal adornment." A woman like her would always strive to own gems. Portable wealth and always close in case of need. "You found none?"
"Only trinkets. Cheap baubles."
"Then she could have pawned them. Search for the tickets. If you find them borrow to reclaim the pledges then sell the gems and repay the debt. Something could be left over. And sell her clothes and everything she owned."
The woman was dead and beyond care-the living needed what she could provide.
Ellain smiled at the face on the screen. "Earl! It's been so long! Why haven't you called before?"
It had been little more than a day but he didn't remind her of that. "If I called would I be welcome?"
"Of course! How long? An hour? Two? Darling, please hurry!"
She sang as she hurried to her bath, scenting the water and fussing later over clothes and hair. The maid, saying nothing but noting all, was deft in her help, discreet in accepting her dismissal. Later there would be a mess to tidy, clothes disarranged, the bed to be made, food and wine to clear, smoke to dissipate-she had experienced such things before. But, while the rich paid, they could go to hell in pieces for all she cared.
"Earl!" She had not realized how much she had missed him until he'd called. Then everything had seemed a little brighter, colors more vivid, even the air gaining an added exhilaration. Now, seeing him standing before the opened door, she felt the sharp acceleration of her blood. The sweet pain of a sudden need. "Come in, darling! Come in!"
He followed her to stand watching as she spun in a pirouette. Her gown was of soft, diaphanous material, a floating cloud shot with streaks of vibrant hue. As she came to a halt it settled to screen the curve of hip and thighs.
"You like it, Earl? This is the first time I've worn it. I ordered it especially for you." Her face was child-like in its pleasure. "Tell me you like it."
"It's beautiful-but not as beautiful as the one who wears it."
The right answer and he saw that it pleased her. A woman of impulse and one who obeyed the dictates of her emotion. One who could be cold and hard if ever thwarted in her desires.
She said, "Why did you wait so long to call? Did I mean so little to you?"
"I had things to attend to-and a friend had died."
"That poor woman! Earl, I'm sorry, but did she mean that much?" She added, "You'd only traveled together and she had other friends. Why should you feel responsible for them?"
Because of him they had been dumped. Would Marta have died if they had not? He said, "On a world like this it helps to have those you can trust. Santis saved my life, remember."
"In the arena, of course."
"It also helps to have friends."
"Alejandro? You've seen him? Earl, you didn't say! Will he help?" Her eyes shadowed as he told her the situation. "To collect trannaks? No, Earl! You can't!" Her protest was not enough and she knew it. More quietly she added, "Did he tell you the death-rate among the hunters? The risks they are forced to take? Would you have listened if he had?"
"Tell me."
"Why do you think men ever settled on this world? Why the city is as it is? The trannaks are found close to and in the Goulten Hills. Had the city been set closer the sannaks would have destroyed it in their search for moisture. They eat the mountains. They eat men for the flesh and blood their bodies contain. They-Earl, you can't! You mustn't!"
He held her close as she came into his arms, feeling the soft warmth of her body, the mounds of her breasts as they pressed against his chest. Beneath his hands he felt her tremble quiet, turn into a warmth, a heat which rose with demanding urgency.
"Earl!" Her fingers became claws as they dug against him. "Earl, my darling! Don't make me wait!"
Later, lying on the wide expanse of the bed, her soft nakedness lying beside him in satiated abandon, he said into the mane of her hair, "I hate to ask this, Ellain, but I need money."
"In order to kill yourself?" She guessed the reason. "No."
"A loan." He lifted his head a little. "To be repaid with profit when I return."
"If you return." The bed made small noises as she rose to sit upright on the edge. "Earl, I love you. Don't ask me to help kill you."
"I'm asking you to save my life!" He joined her, sitting close, thighs resting warmly one against the other. "You asked me to help you escape," he reminded. "You introduced me to Alejandro Jwani. Surely you knew what the outcome would be?" Lifting a hand he gently turned her face toward him. The lights were dim, colored glows held in tinted glass, but bright enough for him to see the tears brimming in her eyes. "A chance, Ellain. For you to clear your debt and for me to remain free and buy passage. For us both to escape."
"Together?"
"Together." He held her eyes, meaning what he said. "But first we must get free. For that I need money for equipment and transportation. A stake. Supply it and you'll be a partner with a share in what we find." He gave her time to think, rising to pour them both wine, returning to sit again beside her. "A chance, Ellain-one we have to take."
"Earl, it's too risky."
"Life is full of risk." Smiling, he added, "Don't you want to protect your investment?"
"Earl?"
He saw her frown, the genuine puzzlement as to his meaning written plain on her face and explained, "My treatment. Didn't you pay the hospital?"
"No, darling. How could I? Yunus was with me and, in any case, I couldn't afford the expense." She added, as if in justification, "I'd only just seen you. You meant nothing to me then. Not as you do now." Her hand rose to caress his torso. "You must have an unknown benefactor."
Chapter Eight
The raft was twenty feet long, seven wide, four deep, the body covered with a transparent canopy which swept up and over the occupants and driver. An unnecessary protection; the air was still, no trace of a breeze stirring the sand below, but Dumarest said nothing. The driver, an old man, must know what he was doing.
He leaned back in the long seat. Facing him Kemmer sat, shoulders rounded, face brooding. Santis was at his side. Accustomed to uniform and the weight of accountrements the mercenary was at home in the thick coverall, the helmet and gear which was standard equipment for any venturing far from the city. Through the open face of the helmet he looked ageless, like a bird of prey patiently waiting to sight its quarry before making the strike.
"Calm," said a man lower down the raft. He was one of another party. "Too damned calm for my liking. It was like this last year the time Loffrey got himself flayed. So calm he was fool enough to leave off his suit and climb a crag. Then the wind and-" His hand made an expressive gesture.
"I remember." Another hawked and spat, not looking at the rear of the raft where Dumarest sat. "And Chine? Remember him? We found his helmet after the winds died. His head was still in it. Odd that, when you think about it No body but his head locked in the helmet like a fruit in a can."
Dumarest had saved money by agreeing to share the raft with others setting out to hunt. Spent it by hiring a guide. Zarl Hine was worn, tough, seamed like dried and ancient leather. One who had spent most of his life in the Goulten Hills. His luck had turned bad and Dumarest had found him hanging around the equipment rooms. He had come cheap because none were willing to take him on.
Sitting next to Dumarest he said, "Take no notice. They'
re trying to scare you. It's always calm before a storm but a storm doesn't always come because it's calm, if you get my meaning. You've got to do more than watch the sand. You need to look at the sky, check the clouds, watch for color. The winds can start high and pick up dust from the Allepcian Mountains. They lie far to the north and grow a mauve lichen on the peaks. If the sky turns mauve start heading for shelter."
The same if it showed green from the level plateau to the south on which crystals of emerald budded to break and turn into dust. Or red from the iron-deposits to the east. Things Dumarest had learned with others but nothing could really take the place of an experienced guide.
Hine said, "You won't regret taking me on, Earl, that I promise. But I can't guarantee a find. If I could I wouldn't have been waiting for a chance. My luck-" He spread his hands. "I guess you know about that."
"I was warned."
"That on each of the last three times I went out I lost companions? That I'm in debt? That where I go storms follow?"
"Is there more?"
"Luck," said Hine. "You have it or you don't. Once I had it and made the mistake of thinking it would last. I knew how to find trannaks and would always be able to find them. Then things started to go wrong. My wife left me. My son fell ill. My daughter wanted to live high. My brother-hell, Earl, you know the story."
"Yes," said Dumarest. "I know it."
"I can't blame Myrna, not really. A wife needs a man at her side and I was always in the hills. And Frank couldn't help falling sick and needing expensive treatment. Lorna wasn't really bad, just young and impatient, and Sakam, my brother-well, you can't let your own go down, can you?" He made an impatient sound. "Why am I telling you all this?"
Dumarest said, "Talking can help and I like to know the kind of man I'm relying on. But why blame your luck for what happened? You were worried, maybe a little careless because of that, taking chances you shouldn't and not spotting what was there to be seen. You made mistakes and blamed yourself and, once your confidence goes, what's left?"
"You think it was that?" Hine sounded relieved. "Just worry working at me all the time? You know, no one ever suggested that. They all put it down to bad luck and said I had a jinx and turned me into an outcast. I've had to sweat just to keep level and it's getting harder every month." Pausing he said, "Mister, one thing I promise-if there are trannaks to be found then, by God, I'll find them!"
He fell silent as the raft began to drop, the antigrav units humming as the driver manipulated the controls.
Without turning he said, "Phindarl get your team and gear ready. You're first to go."
"This the right place?" A man at the front of the raft sounded suspicious. "I want to be set down right."
"At the foot of Peak 17. Right?"
"That's about it." The man rose, sealing his helmet, his voice booming from the diaphragm. "Come on, boys, we can't afford to waste time."
The raft settled, the canopy opening, the men jumping out after their packs. Without looking back they trudged toward the foot of the hills, sand pluming from beneath their boots. Dumarest knew that, as soon as the raft was out of sight, they would change direction. Favored spots and entries into the hills were closely guarded secrets.
As they rose from dropping the other team, Hine pointed at the desert. "There! See?"
A ripple ran over the sand. A line which wavered, lengthened as they watched, then abruptly curved to vanish.
"A big one," said the guide. "And close to the surface. One scouting for a mate like as not and all the more dangerous because of it."
"Not a female, then."
"No." Hine looked at Dumarest. "You know as much as most. A female would be looking for a cavern to lay her eggs. They run at times but not as often and usually go much deeper than the males. The bulls run wild when they're in heat or affected in some way and then the entire surface gets covered with trails. When that happens a storm is certain." He glanced at the range passing to one side. "Much farther to go?"
"Worried?"
"No, Earl, but the main finds are made back there." He jerked his head toward the rear. "Closer to the city."
And so all the more searched. Dumarest said nothing as the raft moved on, only speaking when it began to drop.
"Not there! Drop us on the summit!"
"You said to drop you at the foot of Peak 86."
"I've changed my mind. Take us lower down and set us on a flat space close to the upper peaks. There! See? Drop us there!"
"It's your funeral." Shrugging, the driver obeyed. "But if you find anything here I'll eat it. Got all your gear? Right. Be seeing you-maybe."
He hadn't wished them luck as he'd done the others and Hine stared after the retreating raft. "The bastard! Earl, you upset him."
"Too bad." Dumarest stood, waiting. Only when the raft was a tiny mote lancing toward the city did he move. "Right, get the gear. We'll rope together and head down that ledge. I spotted a cave down there and it could lead into others. What do you think, Zarl?"
The guide hesitated, pleased that his opinion should be asked but doubtful as to what his answer should be. He decided to be honest.
"I think we could be wasting our time. The sannaks dont run up into the hills. They burrow deep and feed on outcroppings below the surface. That's why the others asked to be dropped where they did. They walk a way then find a mouth and enter to search. This way-" He broke off, shaking his head. "I don't know, Earl, and that's the truth of it. This is new to me."
And to most as Jwani had explained. Those who searched for trannaks followed a predictable pattern but he had worked out new methods based on the habits of the beasts. Dumarest was basing his actions on what he had learned.
He explained, "If we do what the others are doing well have no better chance than they have. Less as only one of us is experienced. This way, if I'm right we can move fast and cut down the risks. If I'm wrong we can go back to the old way. Now, Zarl, it's up to you."
Only a fool would hire an expert and then ignore his advice. Dumarest had deliberately placed the man in charge and would obey him unless and until he made obvious mistakes or showed too much reluctance.
The guide said, "Right The first thing we do is to seal up and stay sealed until we tent. Out here a sudden flurry of wind can drive grit into your eyes and before you could get it out you could be dead. Down under you'll be sending out signals all the time and it's suicide to amplify them."
"Signals?"
"Vibrations." Zarl looked at the mercenary. "Each time you take a step you send out vibrations. Each time you move or talk. Old hunters use sign language but we haven't time for that. And there's body heat and humidity. Even with the suits tight-sealed some gets through. To stay alive you must never forget what it is we're up against." He turned, looking at the desert rolling away from the foot of the range, the sky resting like a clear bowl of tinted azure above. A mote showed, falling in a shimmer of blue from its Erhaft Field, sound echoing as sonic waves signaled its descent. "Hell," he said. "It's a ship."
There would be a storm, Ellain was sure of it. All afternoon she had sat at the window looking toward the distant loom of the Goulten Hills, feeling the constriction of her stomach as the tension mounted. And yet the day had remained calm, the surface of the desert undisturbed aside from the thin, whipping lines which broke the surface far away lines which her imagination multiplied with dire foreboding.
The hum of the phone caused her heart to pound.
"Yes?" It was Yunus, smiling, smoothly bland. "I thought you had died," she snapped at the screen. "How long has it been?"
"Too long, my dear, and I am touched that you have missed me. But surely you did not lack companionship?" His smile was the bared snarl of a feline. "Am I to believe that you have waited patiently for me to call?"
He knew, she could sense it, and cursed the spying maid and her love of money. She must have informed him of all that had happened. Well, what of it? He didn't own her and had only himself to blame for having neglect
ed her. If he had been at her side would she have found Dumarest so attractive? She knew the answer-always she would sense his appeal.
She said, harshly, feigning anger, "Are you questioning me?"
"My dear, I am merely calling to ask if you will accommodate me. A small favor I am sure you will not begrudge. I want you to appear at a dinner I am giving this evening for a very special guest. Later, naturally, we can talk."
A threat? It was like him and she was uneasily aware of how vulnerable she was. More now than before and if he should turn vindictive-
"A guest? One just arrived?"
"Yes, my dear. Cyber Tosya."
He was tall, thin to the point of emaciation, his shaven head giving his face a taut, skull-like appearance. He wore a robe of shimmering scarlet the great seal of the Cyclan glowing on its breast. His sleeves were wide, his hands long-fingered, smooth, the ends rounded, the nails filed to slender points. His eyes were large and held the glow of trained intelligence. His voice was a clear modulation carefully enunciated and eliminate all irritant factors.
Meeting him, Ellain shivered.
There was something inhuman about the man, a cold, hard, inflexible core which she with her woman's intuition both resented and feared. A creature of emotion herself she lacked any empathy with another to whom emotion was an aberration. Tosya could never feel as she did. Never know hate and love and anger and joy. Training and an operation at puberty had divorced reason from glandular influence.
Food, to him, was fuel and a body overburdened with unessential tissue was an inefficient machine. Pain was foreign to him as was desire. His only pleasure lay in intellectual achievement.
Tosya, like all cybers, was a living robot of flesh and blood.
Now he sat in the place of honor at the table and listened to the ebb and flow of conversation. The heaped dishes and various wines left him unmoved as had the entertainment provided. If anything they proved the inadequacy of those who were slaves to emotion. But the conversation held interest; much could be learned from a few idly related facts.
