“YOU ARE truly a man of power!”
Tau shook his head in answer to that outburst from Asaki.
“Not so, sir. Your Lumbrilo is a man of power. I drew upon
his power and you saw the results.”
“Deny it not! What we saw never walked this
world.”
Tau slung the strap of a trail bag over his shoulder.
“Sir, once men of your blood, men who bred your race, hunted
the elephant. They took his tusks for their treasure, feasted upon
his flesh—yes, and died beneath the trampling of his feet
when they were unlucky or unwary. So there is that within you which
can even now be awakened to remember eldama in his might
when he was king of the herd and need fear nothing save the spears
and cunning of small, weak men. Lumbrilo had already awakened your
minds to see what he willed you to see.”
“How does he do this?” asked the other simply.
“Is it magic that we see not Lumbrilo but a lion before
us?”
“He waves his spell with the drums, with the chant, by the
suggestion his mind imposes upon yours. And, having woven his
spell, he cannot limit it to just the picture he suggests if
ancient racial memories raise another. I merely used the tools of
Lumbrilo to show you yet another picture your people once knew
well.”
“And in so doing made an enemy.” Asaki stood before
a rack of very modern weapons. Now he made his selection, a silver
tube with a stock curved to fit a man’s shoulder.
“Lumbrilo will not forget.”
Tau laughed shortly. “No, but then I have merely done as
you wished, have I not, sir? I have focused on myself the enmity of
a dangerous man, and now you hope I shall be forced, in
self-defense, to remove him from your path.”
The Khatkan turned slowly, resting the weapon across his
forearm. “I do not deny that, spaceman.”
“Then matters here are indeed serious—”
“They are so serious,” Asaki interrupted, speaking
not only to Tau but to the other off-worlders as well, “that
what happens now may mean the end of the Khatka that I know.
Lumbrilo is the most dangerous game I have faced in a lifetime as a
hunter. He goes, or we draw his fangs—or else all that I am,
all I have labored here to build, will be swept away. To preserve
this I will use any weapon.”
“And I am now your weapon, which you hope will be as
successful as that needler you are carrying.” Tau laughed
again, without much humor. “Let us hope I shall prove as
effective.”
Jellico moved out of the shadows. It was just after dawn, and
the grayness of the vanishing night still held in the corners of
the armory. Deliberately he took his own stand before the arms
racks and chose a short-barreled blaster. Only when its butt was
cupped in his hand did he glance at his host.
“We came guesting, Asaki. We have eaten salt and bread
under this roof.”
“On my body and my blood it is,” returned the
Khatkan grimly. “I shall go down to the blackness of Sabra
before you do, if the flames of death are against us.” From
his belt he flipped loose his knife and offered the hilt to
Jellico. “My body for a wall between you and the dark,
Captain. But also understand this: to me, what I do now is greater
than the life of any one man. Lumbrilo and the evil behind him must
be rooted out. There was no trickery in my invitation!”
They stood eye to eye, equal in height, in authority of person,
and that indefinable something which made them both masters in
their own different worlds. Then Jellico’s hand went out, his
fingertip flicked the hilt of the bared blade.
“There was no trickery,” he conceded. “I knew
that your need was great when you came to the
Queen.”
Since both the captain and Tau appeared to accept the situation,
Dane, not quite understanding it all, was prepared to follow their lead. And for the moment they had nothing more
in plan than to visit the Zoboru preserve.
They went by flitter—Asaki, one of his Hunter pilots, and
the three from the Queen—lifting over the rim of mountains
behind the fortress-palace and speeding north with the rising sun a
flaming ball to the east. Below, the country was stark—rocks
and peaks, deep purple shadows marking the veins of crevices. But
that was swiftly behind and they were over a sea of greens, many
shades of green, with yellow, blue, even red cutting into the
general verdant carpet of treetops. Another chain of heights and
then open land, swales of tall grass already burnt yellow by the
steady sun. There was a river here, a crazy, twisted stream coiling
nearly back upon itself at times.
Once more broken land, land so ravished by prehistoric volcanic
action that it was a grotesque nightmare of erosion-whittled
outcrops and mesas. Asaki pointed to the east. There was a dark
patch widening out into a vast wedge.
“The swamp of Mygra. It has not yet been
explored.”
“You could air map it,” Tau began.
The Chief Ranger was frowning. “Four flitters have been
lost trying that. Com reports fail when they cross that last
mountain ridge eastward. There is some sort of interference which
we do not yet understand. Mygra is a place of death; later we may
be able to travel along its fringe and then you shall see.
Now—” He spoke to the pilot in his own tongue and the
flitter pointed up-nose at an angle as they climbed over the
highest peak they had yet seen in this mountainous land, to reach
at last a country of open grass dotted with small forest stands.
Jellico nodded approvingly.
“Zoboru?”
“Zoboru,” Asaki assented. “We shall go up to
the northern end of the preserve. I wish to show you the roosts of
the fastals. This is their nesting season and the sight is one you
will long remember. But we shall take an eastern course; I have two
Ranger stations to check on the way.”
It was after they left the second station that the flitter swung farther out eastward, again climbing over the chain of
heights to sight one of the newly discovered wonders the staff at
the last station had reported—a crater lake.
And the flitter skimmed down across water which was a rich
emerald in hue, filling the crater from one rock wall to the other
with no beach at the foot of those precipitant cliffs. As the
machine arose to clear the far wall, Dane tensed. One of his duties
aboard the Queen was flitter pilot for planet-wise trips.
And ever since they had taken off that morning he had unconsciously
flown with the Khatkan pilot, anticipating each change or
adjustment of the controls. Now he felt that sluggish response to
the other’s lift signal, and instinctively his own hand went
out to adjust a power feed lever.
They made the rise, were well above the danger of the cliff
wall. But the machine was not responding properly. Dane did not
need to watch the pilot’s swiftly moving hands to guess that
they were in trouble. And his slight concern deepened into
something else as the flitter began to drop nose again. In front of
him Captain Jellico shifted uneasily, and Dane knew that he, too,
was alerted.
Now the pilot had plunged the power adjuster to the head against
the control board. But the nose of the flitter acted as if it were
overweighted or magnetically attracted by the rocks below. The best
efforts of the man flying it could not keep it level. They were
being drawn earthward, and all the pilot could do only delayed the
inevitable crack-up. The Khatkan was turning the machine north to
avoid what lay below, for here a long arm of the Mygra swamp
clasped about the foot of the mountain.
The Chief Ranger spoke into the mike of the com unit while the
pilot continued to fight against the pull which was bringing them
down. Now the small machine was below the level of the volcanic
peak which cradled the lake, and the mountain lay between them and
the preserve.
Asaki gave a muffled exclamation, slapped the com box, spoke
more sharply into the mike. It was apparent he was not getting the results he wanted. Then with a quick glance
about he snapped an order:
“Strap in!”
His Terran companions had already buckled the wide webbing belts
intended to save them from crash shock. Dane saw the pilot push the
button to release fend cushions. In spite of his pounding heart, a
small fraction of his brain recognized the other’s skill as
the Khatkan took a course to bring them down on a relatively level
patch of sand and gravel.
Dane raised his head from the shelter of his folded arms. The
Chief Ranger was busy with the pilot, who lay limply against the
controls. Captain Jellico and Tau were already pulling at the
buckles of their protective crash belts. But one look at the front
of the flitter told Dane that it would not take to the air again
without extensive repairs. Its nose was bent up and back, obscuring
the forward view completely. However, the pilot had made a
miraculously safe landing considering the terrain.
Ten minutes later, the pilot restored to consciousness and the
gash in his head bandaged, they held a council of war.
“The com was off, too. I did not have a chance to report
before the crash,” Asaki put the situation straightly.
“And our exploring parties have not yet mapped this side of
the range; it has a bad reputation because of the swamp.”
Jellico measured the heights now to their west with resigned
eyes. “Looks as if we climb.”
“Not here,” the Chief Ranger corrected him.
“There is no passing through the crater lake region on foot.
We must travel south along the edge of the mountain area until we
do find a scalable way into the preserve region.”
“You seem very certain we are not going to be rescued if
we stay right here,” Tau observed. “Why?”
“Because I’m inclined to believe that any flitter
that tries to reach us may run into the same trouble. Also, they
have no com fix on us. It will be at least a day or more before
they will even begin to count us missing, and then they will have
the whole northern portion of the preserve to comb; there are not enough men here—I can give you a multitude
of reasons, Medic.”
“One of which might be sabotage?” demanded
Jellico.
Asaki shrugged. “Perhaps. I am not loved in some quarters.
But there may also be something fatal to flitters here as there is
over Mygra. We thought the crater lake district safely beyond the
swamp influence, but it may not be so.”
But you took the chance of traveling over it, Dane thought,
though he did not comment aloud. Was this another of the Chief
Ranger’s attempts to involve them in some private trouble of
his own? Though to deliberately smash up a flitter and set them all
afoot in this wilderness was a pretty drastic move.
Asaki had started to unload emergency supplies from the flitter.
They each had a trail bag for a pack. But when the pilot staggered
over to pull out a set of stass belts and Jellico began to uncoil
them, the Chief Ranger shook his head.
“With the feeder beam shut off by the mountains, I fear
those will no longer work.”
Jellico tossed one on the crumpled nose of the flitter and
punched its button with the tip of the needler barrel. Then he
threw a rock at the dangling belt. The stone landed, taking the
wide protective band with it to the ground. That force field which
should have warded off the missive was not working.
“Oh, fine!” Tau opened his trail bag to pack
concentrates. Then he smiled crookedly. “We aren’t
signed in for killing licenses, sir. Do you pay our fines if we are
forced to shoot a hole through something that disputes the right of
way?”
To Dane’s surprise, the Chief Ranger laughed. “You
are off preserve now, Medic Tau. The rules do not cover wild land.
But I would suggest we now hunt a cave before nightfall.”
“Lions?” asked Jellico.
Dane, remembering the black and white beast Lumbrilo had
presented, did not enjoy that thought. They had—his gaze went
from man to man checking weapons—the needler Asaki carried, and another the pilot had slung by its carrying
strap over his shoulder. Tau and the captain both were armed with
blasters and he had a fire ray and a force blade, both considered
small arms but deadly enough perhaps even to dampen a lion’s
enthusiasm for the chase.
“Lions, graz, rock apes, “ Asaki fastened the mouth
of his trail bag. “All are hunters or killers. The graz send
out scouts, and they are big and formidable enough to have no
enemies. Lions hunt with intelligence and skill. Rock apes are
dangerous, but luckily they cannot keep silent when they scent
their prey and so give one warning.”
As they climbed up-slope from the flitter, Dane, looking back,
saw that perhaps Asaki was right in his belief that they had better
try to help themselves rather than wait for rescue. Putting aside
the excuse of fearing another crack-up, the wrecked flitter made no
outstanding mark on the ground. The higher they climbed, the less
it could be distinguished from the tumble of rocks about it.
He had lagged a little behind and, when he hurried to catch up,
found Jellico standing with his distance vision lenses to his eyes,
directing them toward that shadow marking the swamp. As the younger
spaceman reached him, the captain lowered the glasses and
spoke:
“Take your knife, Thorson, and hold it close to that
rock—over there.” He pointed to a rounded black knob
protruding from the soil a little off their path.
Dane obeyed, only to have the blade jerk in his hand. And when
he loosened his hold in amazement, the steel slapped tight against
the stone.
“Magnetic!”
“Yes. Which might explain our crash. Also this.”
Jellico held out a field compass to demonstrate that its needle had
gone completely mad.
“We can use the mountain range itself for a guide,”
Dane said with more confidence than he felt.
“True enough. But we may have trouble when we head west
again.” Jellico let the lenses swing free on their cord about his neck. “If we were wrecked on
purpose”—his mouth tightened and the old blaster burn
on his cheek stretched as did his jaw set—“then someone
is going to answer a lot of questions—and fast!”
“The Chief Ranger, sir?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know!” The
captain grunted as he adjusted his pack and started on.
If fortune had failed them earlier, she smiled on them now.
Asaki discovered a cave before sundown, located not too far from a
mountain stream. The Ranger sniffed the air before that dark
opening as the Hunter pilot shed his equipment and crept forward on
his hands and knees, his head up and his nostrils expanding as he,
too, tested the scent from the cave mouth.
Scent? It was closer to a stench, and one ripe enough to turn
the stomach of an off-worlder. But the Hunter glanced back over his
shoulder and nodded reassuringly.
“Lion. But old. Not here within five days at
least.”
“Well enough. And even old lion scent will keep away rock
apes. We’ll clean some and then we can rest
undisturbed,” was his superior’s comment.
The cleaning was easy, for the brittle bedding of dried bracken
and grass the beast had left burned quickly, cleansing with both
fire and smoke. When they raked the ashes out with branches, Asaki
and Nymani brought in handfuls of leaves which they crumpled and
threw on the floor, spreading an aromatic odor which banished most
of the foulness.
Dane, at the stream with the canteens to fill, chanced upon a
small pool where there was a spread of smooth yellow sand. Knowing
well the many weird booby traps one might stumble into on a strange
world, the Terran prospected carefully, stirring up the stand with
a stick. Sighting not so much as a water insect or a curious fish,
he pulled off his boots, rolled up his breeches and waded in. The
water was cool and refreshing, though he dared not drink it until
the purifier was added. Then, with the filled canteens knotted
together by their straps, he put on his boots and climbed to the cave
where Tau waited with water tablets.
Half an hour later Dane sat cross-legged by the fire, turning a
spit strung with three small birds Asaki had brought in. One foot
closer to the heat began to tingle and he eased off his boot; his
cramped toes suddenly seeming to have doubled in size. He was
staring wide-eyed at these same toes, puffed, red, and increasingly
painful to the touch, when Nymani squatted beside him, inspected
his foot closely, and ordered him to take off his other boot.
“What is it?” Dane found that shedding the other
boot was a minor torture in itself.
Nymani was cutting tiny splinters, hardly thicker than a needle,
from a stick.
“Sand worm—lays eggs in flesh. We burn them out or
you have bad foot.”
“Burn them out!” Dane echoed, and then swallowed as
he watched Nymani advance a splinter to the fire.
“Burn them,” the Khatkan repeated firmly.
“Burn tonight, hurt some tomorrow; all well soon. No
burn—very bad.”
Dane ruefully prepared to pay the consequences of his first
brush with the unpleasant surprises Khatka had to offer.
“YOU ARE truly a man of power!”
Tau shook his head in answer to that outburst from Asaki.
“Not so, sir. Your Lumbrilo is a man of power. I drew upon
his power and you saw the results.”
“Deny it not! What we saw never walked this
world.”
Tau slung the strap of a trail bag over his shoulder.
“Sir, once men of your blood, men who bred your race, hunted
the elephant. They took his tusks for their treasure, feasted upon
his flesh—yes, and died beneath the trampling of his feet
when they were unlucky or unwary. So there is that within you which
can even now be awakened to remember eldama in his might
when he was king of the herd and need fear nothing save the spears
and cunning of small, weak men. Lumbrilo had already awakened your
minds to see what he willed you to see.”
“How does he do this?” asked the other simply.
“Is it magic that we see not Lumbrilo but a lion before
us?”
“He waves his spell with the drums, with the chant, by the
suggestion his mind imposes upon yours. And, having woven his
spell, he cannot limit it to just the picture he suggests if
ancient racial memories raise another. I merely used the tools of
Lumbrilo to show you yet another picture your people once knew
well.”
“And in so doing made an enemy.” Asaki stood before
a rack of very modern weapons. Now he made his selection, a silver
tube with a stock curved to fit a man’s shoulder.
“Lumbrilo will not forget.”
Tau laughed shortly. “No, but then I have merely done as
you wished, have I not, sir? I have focused on myself the enmity of
a dangerous man, and now you hope I shall be forced, in
self-defense, to remove him from your path.”
The Khatkan turned slowly, resting the weapon across his
forearm. “I do not deny that, spaceman.”
“Then matters here are indeed serious—”
“They are so serious,” Asaki interrupted, speaking
not only to Tau but to the other off-worlders as well, “that
what happens now may mean the end of the Khatka that I know.
Lumbrilo is the most dangerous game I have faced in a lifetime as a
hunter. He goes, or we draw his fangs—or else all that I am,
all I have labored here to build, will be swept away. To preserve
this I will use any weapon.”
“And I am now your weapon, which you hope will be as
successful as that needler you are carrying.” Tau laughed
again, without much humor. “Let us hope I shall prove as
effective.”
Jellico moved out of the shadows. It was just after dawn, and
the grayness of the vanishing night still held in the corners of
the armory. Deliberately he took his own stand before the arms
racks and chose a short-barreled blaster. Only when its butt was
cupped in his hand did he glance at his host.
“We came guesting, Asaki. We have eaten salt and bread
under this roof.”
“On my body and my blood it is,” returned the
Khatkan grimly. “I shall go down to the blackness of Sabra
before you do, if the flames of death are against us.” From
his belt he flipped loose his knife and offered the hilt to
Jellico. “My body for a wall between you and the dark,
Captain. But also understand this: to me, what I do now is greater
than the life of any one man. Lumbrilo and the evil behind him must
be rooted out. There was no trickery in my invitation!”
They stood eye to eye, equal in height, in authority of person,
and that indefinable something which made them both masters in
their own different worlds. Then Jellico’s hand went out, his
fingertip flicked the hilt of the bared blade.
“There was no trickery,” he conceded. “I knew
that your need was great when you came to the
Queen.”
Since both the captain and Tau appeared to accept the situation,
Dane, not quite understanding it all, was prepared to follow their lead. And for the moment they had nothing more
in plan than to visit the Zoboru preserve.
They went by flitter—Asaki, one of his Hunter pilots, and
the three from the Queen—lifting over the rim of mountains
behind the fortress-palace and speeding north with the rising sun a
flaming ball to the east. Below, the country was stark—rocks
and peaks, deep purple shadows marking the veins of crevices. But
that was swiftly behind and they were over a sea of greens, many
shades of green, with yellow, blue, even red cutting into the
general verdant carpet of treetops. Another chain of heights and
then open land, swales of tall grass already burnt yellow by the
steady sun. There was a river here, a crazy, twisted stream coiling
nearly back upon itself at times.
Once more broken land, land so ravished by prehistoric volcanic
action that it was a grotesque nightmare of erosion-whittled
outcrops and mesas. Asaki pointed to the east. There was a dark
patch widening out into a vast wedge.
“The swamp of Mygra. It has not yet been
explored.”
“You could air map it,” Tau began.
The Chief Ranger was frowning. “Four flitters have been
lost trying that. Com reports fail when they cross that last
mountain ridge eastward. There is some sort of interference which
we do not yet understand. Mygra is a place of death; later we may
be able to travel along its fringe and then you shall see.
Now—” He spoke to the pilot in his own tongue and the
flitter pointed up-nose at an angle as they climbed over the
highest peak they had yet seen in this mountainous land, to reach
at last a country of open grass dotted with small forest stands.
Jellico nodded approvingly.
“Zoboru?”
“Zoboru,” Asaki assented. “We shall go up to
the northern end of the preserve. I wish to show you the roosts of
the fastals. This is their nesting season and the sight is one you
will long remember. But we shall take an eastern course; I have two
Ranger stations to check on the way.”
It was after they left the second station that the flitter swung farther out eastward, again climbing over the chain of
heights to sight one of the newly discovered wonders the staff at
the last station had reported—a crater lake.
And the flitter skimmed down across water which was a rich
emerald in hue, filling the crater from one rock wall to the other
with no beach at the foot of those precipitant cliffs. As the
machine arose to clear the far wall, Dane tensed. One of his duties
aboard the Queen was flitter pilot for planet-wise trips.
And ever since they had taken off that morning he had unconsciously
flown with the Khatkan pilot, anticipating each change or
adjustment of the controls. Now he felt that sluggish response to
the other’s lift signal, and instinctively his own hand went
out to adjust a power feed lever.
They made the rise, were well above the danger of the cliff
wall. But the machine was not responding properly. Dane did not
need to watch the pilot’s swiftly moving hands to guess that
they were in trouble. And his slight concern deepened into
something else as the flitter began to drop nose again. In front of
him Captain Jellico shifted uneasily, and Dane knew that he, too,
was alerted.
Now the pilot had plunged the power adjuster to the head against
the control board. But the nose of the flitter acted as if it were
overweighted or magnetically attracted by the rocks below. The best
efforts of the man flying it could not keep it level. They were
being drawn earthward, and all the pilot could do only delayed the
inevitable crack-up. The Khatkan was turning the machine north to
avoid what lay below, for here a long arm of the Mygra swamp
clasped about the foot of the mountain.
The Chief Ranger spoke into the mike of the com unit while the
pilot continued to fight against the pull which was bringing them
down. Now the small machine was below the level of the volcanic
peak which cradled the lake, and the mountain lay between them and
the preserve.
Asaki gave a muffled exclamation, slapped the com box, spoke
more sharply into the mike. It was apparent he was not getting the results he wanted. Then with a quick glance
about he snapped an order:
“Strap in!”
His Terran companions had already buckled the wide webbing belts
intended to save them from crash shock. Dane saw the pilot push the
button to release fend cushions. In spite of his pounding heart, a
small fraction of his brain recognized the other’s skill as
the Khatkan took a course to bring them down on a relatively level
patch of sand and gravel.
Dane raised his head from the shelter of his folded arms. The
Chief Ranger was busy with the pilot, who lay limply against the
controls. Captain Jellico and Tau were already pulling at the
buckles of their protective crash belts. But one look at the front
of the flitter told Dane that it would not take to the air again
without extensive repairs. Its nose was bent up and back, obscuring
the forward view completely. However, the pilot had made a
miraculously safe landing considering the terrain.
Ten minutes later, the pilot restored to consciousness and the
gash in his head bandaged, they held a council of war.
“The com was off, too. I did not have a chance to report
before the crash,” Asaki put the situation straightly.
“And our exploring parties have not yet mapped this side of
the range; it has a bad reputation because of the swamp.”
Jellico measured the heights now to their west with resigned
eyes. “Looks as if we climb.”
“Not here,” the Chief Ranger corrected him.
“There is no passing through the crater lake region on foot.
We must travel south along the edge of the mountain area until we
do find a scalable way into the preserve region.”
“You seem very certain we are not going to be rescued if
we stay right here,” Tau observed. “Why?”
“Because I’m inclined to believe that any flitter
that tries to reach us may run into the same trouble. Also, they
have no com fix on us. It will be at least a day or more before
they will even begin to count us missing, and then they will have
the whole northern portion of the preserve to comb; there are not enough men here—I can give you a multitude
of reasons, Medic.”
“One of which might be sabotage?” demanded
Jellico.
Asaki shrugged. “Perhaps. I am not loved in some quarters.
But there may also be something fatal to flitters here as there is
over Mygra. We thought the crater lake district safely beyond the
swamp influence, but it may not be so.”
But you took the chance of traveling over it, Dane thought,
though he did not comment aloud. Was this another of the Chief
Ranger’s attempts to involve them in some private trouble of
his own? Though to deliberately smash up a flitter and set them all
afoot in this wilderness was a pretty drastic move.
Asaki had started to unload emergency supplies from the flitter.
They each had a trail bag for a pack. But when the pilot staggered
over to pull out a set of stass belts and Jellico began to uncoil
them, the Chief Ranger shook his head.
“With the feeder beam shut off by the mountains, I fear
those will no longer work.”
Jellico tossed one on the crumpled nose of the flitter and
punched its button with the tip of the needler barrel. Then he
threw a rock at the dangling belt. The stone landed, taking the
wide protective band with it to the ground. That force field which
should have warded off the missive was not working.
“Oh, fine!” Tau opened his trail bag to pack
concentrates. Then he smiled crookedly. “We aren’t
signed in for killing licenses, sir. Do you pay our fines if we are
forced to shoot a hole through something that disputes the right of
way?”
To Dane’s surprise, the Chief Ranger laughed. “You
are off preserve now, Medic Tau. The rules do not cover wild land.
But I would suggest we now hunt a cave before nightfall.”
“Lions?” asked Jellico.
Dane, remembering the black and white beast Lumbrilo had
presented, did not enjoy that thought. They had—his gaze went
from man to man checking weapons—the needler Asaki carried, and another the pilot had slung by its carrying
strap over his shoulder. Tau and the captain both were armed with
blasters and he had a fire ray and a force blade, both considered
small arms but deadly enough perhaps even to dampen a lion’s
enthusiasm for the chase.
“Lions, graz, rock apes, “ Asaki fastened the mouth
of his trail bag. “All are hunters or killers. The graz send
out scouts, and they are big and formidable enough to have no
enemies. Lions hunt with intelligence and skill. Rock apes are
dangerous, but luckily they cannot keep silent when they scent
their prey and so give one warning.”
As they climbed up-slope from the flitter, Dane, looking back,
saw that perhaps Asaki was right in his belief that they had better
try to help themselves rather than wait for rescue. Putting aside
the excuse of fearing another crack-up, the wrecked flitter made no
outstanding mark on the ground. The higher they climbed, the less
it could be distinguished from the tumble of rocks about it.
He had lagged a little behind and, when he hurried to catch up,
found Jellico standing with his distance vision lenses to his eyes,
directing them toward that shadow marking the swamp. As the younger
spaceman reached him, the captain lowered the glasses and
spoke:
“Take your knife, Thorson, and hold it close to that
rock—over there.” He pointed to a rounded black knob
protruding from the soil a little off their path.
Dane obeyed, only to have the blade jerk in his hand. And when
he loosened his hold in amazement, the steel slapped tight against
the stone.
“Magnetic!”
“Yes. Which might explain our crash. Also this.”
Jellico held out a field compass to demonstrate that its needle had
gone completely mad.
“We can use the mountain range itself for a guide,”
Dane said with more confidence than he felt.
“True enough. But we may have trouble when we head west
again.” Jellico let the lenses swing free on their cord about his neck. “If we were wrecked on
purpose”—his mouth tightened and the old blaster burn
on his cheek stretched as did his jaw set—“then someone
is going to answer a lot of questions—and fast!”
“The Chief Ranger, sir?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know!” The
captain grunted as he adjusted his pack and started on.
If fortune had failed them earlier, she smiled on them now.
Asaki discovered a cave before sundown, located not too far from a
mountain stream. The Ranger sniffed the air before that dark
opening as the Hunter pilot shed his equipment and crept forward on
his hands and knees, his head up and his nostrils expanding as he,
too, tested the scent from the cave mouth.
Scent? It was closer to a stench, and one ripe enough to turn
the stomach of an off-worlder. But the Hunter glanced back over his
shoulder and nodded reassuringly.
“Lion. But old. Not here within five days at
least.”
“Well enough. And even old lion scent will keep away rock
apes. We’ll clean some and then we can rest
undisturbed,” was his superior’s comment.
The cleaning was easy, for the brittle bedding of dried bracken
and grass the beast had left burned quickly, cleansing with both
fire and smoke. When they raked the ashes out with branches, Asaki
and Nymani brought in handfuls of leaves which they crumpled and
threw on the floor, spreading an aromatic odor which banished most
of the foulness.
Dane, at the stream with the canteens to fill, chanced upon a
small pool where there was a spread of smooth yellow sand. Knowing
well the many weird booby traps one might stumble into on a strange
world, the Terran prospected carefully, stirring up the stand with
a stick. Sighting not so much as a water insect or a curious fish,
he pulled off his boots, rolled up his breeches and waded in. The
water was cool and refreshing, though he dared not drink it until
the purifier was added. Then, with the filled canteens knotted
together by their straps, he put on his boots and climbed to the cave
where Tau waited with water tablets.
Half an hour later Dane sat cross-legged by the fire, turning a
spit strung with three small birds Asaki had brought in. One foot
closer to the heat began to tingle and he eased off his boot; his
cramped toes suddenly seeming to have doubled in size. He was
staring wide-eyed at these same toes, puffed, red, and increasingly
painful to the touch, when Nymani squatted beside him, inspected
his foot closely, and ordered him to take off his other boot.
“What is it?” Dane found that shedding the other
boot was a minor torture in itself.
Nymani was cutting tiny splinters, hardly thicker than a needle,
from a stick.
“Sand worm—lays eggs in flesh. We burn them out or
you have bad foot.”
“Burn them out!” Dane echoed, and then swallowed as
he watched Nymani advance a splinter to the fire.
“Burn them,” the Khatkan repeated firmly.
“Burn tonight, hurt some tomorrow; all well soon. No
burn—very bad.”
Dane ruefully prepared to pay the consequences of his first
brush with the unpleasant surprises Khatka had to offer.