He was very tall, this officer of Survey,
towering over Charis where she sat cross-legged on his mat bed as
he strode impatiently back and forth across the chamber, now and
then shooting a question at her or making her retell some part of
the story again.
“It does look very much like a Company grab.” He
gave judgment at last. “Which means they must be very sure of
themselves, that they think they have all angles covered.”
Now he might be talking to himself rather than to her. “A
deal—somehow they’ve made a deal!”
Charis guessed at the meaning of that. “You think
they’ve arranged for closed eyes somewhere?”
Thorvald glanced at her sharply, almost in dislike, Charis
decided. But he nodded curtly. “Not in our service!” he
rapped out.
“But they wouldn’t be able to square the Patrol,
would they? Not if you were able to get a message
through.”
He smiled grimly. “Hardly. But the only off-world com is
at the base, and from your account they hold that now.”
“There’s the Patrol ship down on the field. That
should have its own com,” she pointed out.
Thorvald rubbed one hand along the angle of his jaw, his eyes
now fixed unseeingly on the blank wall of the chamber.
“Yes, that Patrol ship—”
“They didn’t have any guard on the
copter.”
“They weren’t expecting trouble then. They probably
thought they had all the base staff accounted for. That
wouldn’t be true now.”
She could see the reason in that argument. Yes, when they had
taken Lantee, as she was now sure they had, and she had flown the
copter out, they had been put on the alert. If the Patrol ship had
not been guarded before, Charis did not doubt now that it was under
strict surveillance.
“What can we do?”
“We’ll have to count on it that they do have
Lantee.”
Or, Charis made herself add silently to Thorvald’s
statement, he is dead.
“And they know that he had at least one other with him,
since the copter was taken. They may scan him, and he’s not
been brain-locked.”
Charis found her hands shaking. There was a cold sickness in her
middle, seeping into the rest of her body. Thorvald was only being
objective, but she found she could not be the same on this point,
not when the man he was discussing was more than a name—a
living person who, in a way Charis could hardly describe, had been
closer to her than any other being she had known. She was unaware
that the Survey officer had paused until he dropped down beside
her, his hands covering both of hers.
“We must face the truth,” he said quietly.
Charis nodded, her spine stiffened, and her head came up.
“I know. But I went off—off and left
him—”
“Which was the only thing you could have done. He knew
that. Also, there is this. Those male Wyverns—they were
attacked by something in the bush—you think it was
Togi?”
“I smelled wolverine just before. And one of the Wyverns
was killed, or badly injured.”
“Which may lead them to believe that there were more than
two of you out there. And that could force caution on them. The
animals work with trainers—that is universally known. And
it’s also general knowledge that they are fanatically loyal
to their trainers. Lantee has been in charge of the wolverines for
two planet years. Those at the base may keep him on ice in order to
have control over the animals.”
Did he really believe that? Charis wondered. Or was it a very
thin attempt to placate her feelings of guilt?
“This nullifier,” Thorvald was on his feet again,
back to that restless pacing. “As long as they have that they
might as well be in a land fortress! And how long will they wait
before moving out with it? If they had a trace-beam on that copter,
they know—”
“Just where to attack!” Charis finished for him,
realizing for the first time what might be the folly of her own
move.
“You had no choice.” Thorvald caught her up on that
quickly. “A warning was important. And with the Wyvern
barrier up you had no other way of reaching them.”
“No, but I have a way of getting back there.” Charis
had been thinking. It was a crazy, wild plan, but it might work.
She had his full attention.
Sheeha! Charis had gone back to her first night on Warlock, to
the trader woman who had been shocked into mental unbalance by
contact with the witches.
“These invaders know that Jagan brought me here,”
Charis began. “Also that I wandered out of the post while
under Wyvern control; they can check all that. They might even have
the tape recording I made to your base when I appealed for help.
But it may be that they do not know that I took the
copter. Or, if they do—well, how much do they know of the
Power? They know the Wyverns used it to dominate and control their
males. So, perhaps they will think I was under Wyvern control while
taking the copter.
“Now, suppose I let them think I have escaped and that I
have headed back to the base because I think there is safety there.
I can act as Sheeha did.”
“And if they put you under a scanner?” Thorvald
demanded harshly, “or if they have already learned from
Lantee what you can do with the Power?”
“If they have, they won’t want me under a scanner,
not right away. They’ll want demonstrations,” Charis
countered. “They can’t know too much about it, can
they? What have you reported? Those reports must have brought them
here.”
“Reports? What have we had to say in those except
generalities? We had our instructions to go slow with the witches.
After they helped us wipe out a Throg base here—it was
entirely their efforts that broke that—they were in no hurry
to fraternize. The willingness to communicate had to come from
their side, contact was on a delicate basis. I don’t
understand about this nullifier. No off-world Company could have
learned enough from our reports to build it because we didn’t
know enough ourselves. Unless this machine is a modification of
something they already had and they brought it with them, simply as
an experiment which did pay off—too well!”
“Then,” said Charis, bringing him back to her own
suggestion, “they could not know about the Power and how it
works?”
“I don’t see how they could. They may have subverted
some of the male Wyverns. But those have never been able to dream
or use the Power. Company scouts could have some idea of what it
does, but they’d only be guessing at how it works.”
“So as an off-worlder who has had some experience with it,
I could make statements they would have no way of
testing?”
“Unless they use a scanner,” he reminded her.
“But when you’re dealing with a mental problem, you
don’t destroy its roots,” Charis countered. “I
tell you, if I went to them as a fugitive who had escaped the
Wyverns and was willing to cooperate, anyone with any intelligence
would not put me under force. He would want me to give
freely.”
Thorvald studied her. “There’s more than one kind of
force,” he said slowly. “And if they suspected that you
were playing a double game, they wouldn’t hesitate to use all
and every means to crack you for what they wanted. A Company on a
grab is moving against time, and their agents here would be
ruthless.”
“All right. Then what’s your answer? It
seems that I have the best chance of getting into the base on my
own terms. Do you or the witches have any at all? If you’re
taken trying to get in—the way Shann was—then
you’re expendable too.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I represent something they want—an
off-worlder who has had experience with the use of the Power. There
is a good chance to get close to the nullifier under those
circumstances. And if I could put that out of action, then the
witches could do the rest. As it is now, the Wyverns suspect us
too, just because we are off-worlders.”
“And how can you convince the Wyverns that you will work
against our own species?”
“They read my mind under the Power. There’s no
hiding the truth from them. Short of leading in an armed force,
which we don’t have, you aren’t going to take back your
base. And someone has to make a move before the invaders
do.”
“You don’t know how rough a grab force can
be—” Thorvald began.
Charis stood up. “I have been hunted by men before. You
can tell me very little about cruelty used as a weapon. But as long
as I present a chance of profit to those in command, I shall be
guarded. And I think that now I am your only key.”
The girl closed her eyes for a second. This was fear, this sick
chill. Yes, she knew what it meant to face hostility; before, she
had to run from it. Now she must walk defenseless straight into the
worst her imagination could picture for her. But there was
a chance. She had known that from the argument she had had with
Gidaya. Perhaps the continued use of the Power did implant in one a
confidence. Only, once at the base, she would not have the Power to
pull on; the nullifier would see to that. She would have only her
wits and luck to back her. Or—could she have more? The
wolverines, Togi and her cubs, lurked about the base, apparently
free of control and able to prey upon the alien guards. Charis had
had no contact with Togi, but with Taggi, who had been so strangely
one with her in that search for Lantee, and with Tsstu, it might be
different. Where were the animals now?
“You have something more in mind?” A change in her
expression must have brought that question from him.
“Tsstu and Taggi—” she began and then
explained more fully.
“But I don’t understand. You say that they
weren’t with you in the Cavern of the Veil or
afterward.”
“No, but they answered when we called. I don’t think
they were captive in any dream place. Perhaps they had to be free
to go their own way for a space after that. It—it was a
frightening experience.” Charis had a flash thought of the
corridor, the opening doors in which Lantee’s thoughts had
attacked her, and again she shivered. “They may have run from
what they remembered.”
“Then—will they return?”
“I think they will have to,” Charis said simply.
“We wove a bond then and still it holds us. Maybe we can
never loose it. But if I could find them, they would be allies
those at the base would not suspect.”
“Suppose the nullifier dampened contact between
you?” Thorvald persisted.
“If I reached them before I went in, they would know what
they could do in aid.”
“You seem to have all the answers!” He did not
appear to relish that admission. “So you’re to walk
alone into a trap and spring it—just like that!”
“Maybe I can’t. But I believe there’s no other
solution.”
“Again you read the pattern right, Sharer of
Dreams!”
They looked around, startled. Gidaya stood there and with her,
Gysmay.
Thorvald opened his mouth, then closed it again. There was a set
to his jaw that suggested that, while he knew silence was proper,
he resented it.
“You are persuaded it must be thus?” Charis asked of
the Wyverns.
Gysmay made a movement of the shoulders approximating a human
shrug.
“I, who am a Holder of the Upper Disk, will go with the
desires of my Sharers of Dreams in this matter. You believe, one
who is not quite a stranger, that this is what must be done. And
you are willing to take that doing into your own hands. So let it
be. Though we cannot give you any aid, since the evil which has
been brought to trouble our world holds about its heart a wall we
cannot pierce.”
“No, you cannot aid me once I am within that place. But
there is that you can do for me before I enter—”
“Such being?” Gidaya asked.
“That Tsstu and Taggi be found and summoned from where
they have gone.”
“Tsstu at least has power of a sort, but whether that may
be harnessed to your purpose—” the older Wyvern
hesitated. “However, no power, no aid, is to be despised when
one walks into a fork-tail’s den without a disk between
one’s fingers. Yes, we shall search out the small one and
also the other who serves these men. Perchance we can do more,
using like tools—”
Gysmay nodded eagerly. “That is a good thought, Reader of
the Rods! One can build on it. Perchance we can provide some action
for these invaders to think upon so that their minds will be in two
ways occupied and not fastened alone upon you and what you would do
among them. We cannot walk through their rooms, but we shall
see.” She did not elaborate.
Turning to Charis, Thorvald cut in: “I’m going with
you—in the copter.”
“You can’t!” Charis protested. “I
won’t take the flyer back. I must wander in as if I have been
lost—”
“I didn’t say land at the base. But I must be back
near the base, near enough to be able to move in when we
can.” He said that defiantly, glaring at the Wyverns as if he
would compel them to his will.
When we can, Charis thought, more likely—if we
can.
“It is well,” Gidaya answered, though there was a
small movement from Gysmay as if she were protesting. “Take
your machine and fly—to this place—”
Into Charis’s mind came instantly a clear picture of a
flat rock expanse squared off to make a natural landing strip.
“About a mile from the base!” Thorvald burst out; he
must also have had that mind picture and recognized it. “We
shall come in from the south—at night—without landing
lights. I can set us down there without trouble.”
“And Tsstu—Taggi?” demanded Charis of the
Wyverns.
“They shall join you there for whatever purpose you think
they may serve. Now you may go.”
Charis was back in the landing well where the two copters were
waiting, but this time Thorvald was with her. As the girl started
for the machine which had brought her to the Citadel, the Survey
officer caught at her arm.
“Mine—not that one.” He drew her with him
toward the other copter. “If it’s sighted after we
land, they’ll believe I returned and am hiding out. They
won’t connect it with you.”
Charis agreed to the sense of that and watched him settle behind
the controls as she took her place on the second seat. They lifted
with a leap which signaled his impatience more than his words had
done. Then, under the night sky, they drove on, the ocean below
them.
“They may have a search beam on,” he said as his
fingers played a dot-dash over course buttons. “We’ll
take the long way around to make sure we have the best cover we
can. North—then west—then up from the
south—”
It was a long way around. Charis watched with eyes over
which the lids were growing very heavy. The smooth sheen of the
night-darkened sea underneath them spread on and on in spite of
their speed. To be flying away from their goal instead of toward it
was hard to be reconciled to now.
“Settle back,” Thorvald’s voice was low and
even; he now had his own impatience under iron control.
“Sleep if you can.”
Sleep? How could anyone sleep with such a task before her.
Sleep— that . . . was . . . impossible . . .
Dark—thick, negative dark. Negative? What did that mean?
Dark, and then, deep in the heart of that blackness, a small fire
struggling to beat back the dark. A fire threatened, a fire she
must reach and feed. Bring it back to bright blaze again! But when
Charis strove to speed to the fire, she could move only with
agonizing slowness, so that the weight which dragged at her limbs
was a pain in itself. And the fire flickered, reblazed, and then
flickered. Charis knew that when it died wholly it might not be
relit. But she needed more than herself to feed that fire, and she
sent out a frantic, soundless call for aid. There was no
answer.
“Wake up!”
Charis’s body swayed in a rough grip, her head jerked back
and forth on her shoulders. She looked up, blinking and half-dazed,
into eyes which blazed with some of the intensity of the fire of
the dark.
“You were dreaming!” It was an accusation.
“They have a hold on you. They never meant—”
“No!” Enough understanding had returned to make her
shake off Thorvald’s hands. “Not one of their dreams.”
“But you were dreaming!”
“Yes.” She huddled in the copter seat as the machine
flew on under auto-pilot. “Shann—”
“What about him?” Thorvald caught her up
quickly.
“He’s still alive.” Charis had brought that
one small crumb of assurance out of the black with her.
“But—”
“But what?”
“He’s just holding on.” That, too, had come to
her although it was not so reassuring. What had strained Lantee to
the depths she had witnessed? Physical hurt? A scanner attack? He
was alive and he was still fighting. That she knew with certainty
and now she said so.
“No real contact? He told you nothing?”
“Nothing. But I almost reached him. If I could try
again—”
“No!” Thorvald shouted at her. “If he is under
a scanner, you don’t know how much they could pick up because
of such a contact. You—you’ll have to put him out of
your mind.”
Charis only looked at him.
“You’ll have to,” he repeated doggedly.
“If they pick you up in any way, you haven’t a chance
of going in as you’ve planned. Can’t you see? You are
the only chance Lantee has now. But you’ll have to reach him
in person in order to help; not this way!”
Thorvald was right. Charis had enough sense left to acknowledge
that rightness, though that did not make it any easier when she
thought of the small fire flickering close to extinction in a deep
and all-abiding darkness.
“Hurry!” She moistened her dry lips with her
tongue.
He was resetting their course. “Yes.”
The copter spiraled away to the right, heading toward the shore
they could not see and the task she had set herself.
He was very tall, this officer of Survey,
towering over Charis where she sat cross-legged on his mat bed as
he strode impatiently back and forth across the chamber, now and
then shooting a question at her or making her retell some part of
the story again.
“It does look very much like a Company grab.” He
gave judgment at last. “Which means they must be very sure of
themselves, that they think they have all angles covered.”
Now he might be talking to himself rather than to her. “A
deal—somehow they’ve made a deal!”
Charis guessed at the meaning of that. “You think
they’ve arranged for closed eyes somewhere?”
Thorvald glanced at her sharply, almost in dislike, Charis
decided. But he nodded curtly. “Not in our service!” he
rapped out.
“But they wouldn’t be able to square the Patrol,
would they? Not if you were able to get a message
through.”
He smiled grimly. “Hardly. But the only off-world com is
at the base, and from your account they hold that now.”
“There’s the Patrol ship down on the field. That
should have its own com,” she pointed out.
Thorvald rubbed one hand along the angle of his jaw, his eyes
now fixed unseeingly on the blank wall of the chamber.
“Yes, that Patrol ship—”
“They didn’t have any guard on the
copter.”
“They weren’t expecting trouble then. They probably
thought they had all the base staff accounted for. That
wouldn’t be true now.”
She could see the reason in that argument. Yes, when they had
taken Lantee, as she was now sure they had, and she had flown the
copter out, they had been put on the alert. If the Patrol ship had
not been guarded before, Charis did not doubt now that it was under
strict surveillance.
“What can we do?”
“We’ll have to count on it that they do have
Lantee.”
Or, Charis made herself add silently to Thorvald’s
statement, he is dead.
“And they know that he had at least one other with him,
since the copter was taken. They may scan him, and he’s not
been brain-locked.”
Charis found her hands shaking. There was a cold sickness in her
middle, seeping into the rest of her body. Thorvald was only being
objective, but she found she could not be the same on this point,
not when the man he was discussing was more than a name—a
living person who, in a way Charis could hardly describe, had been
closer to her than any other being she had known. She was unaware
that the Survey officer had paused until he dropped down beside
her, his hands covering both of hers.
“We must face the truth,” he said quietly.
Charis nodded, her spine stiffened, and her head came up.
“I know. But I went off—off and left
him—”
“Which was the only thing you could have done. He knew
that. Also, there is this. Those male Wyverns—they were
attacked by something in the bush—you think it was
Togi?”
“I smelled wolverine just before. And one of the Wyverns
was killed, or badly injured.”
“Which may lead them to believe that there were more than
two of you out there. And that could force caution on them. The
animals work with trainers—that is universally known. And
it’s also general knowledge that they are fanatically loyal
to their trainers. Lantee has been in charge of the wolverines for
two planet years. Those at the base may keep him on ice in order to
have control over the animals.”
Did he really believe that? Charis wondered. Or was it a very
thin attempt to placate her feelings of guilt?
“This nullifier,” Thorvald was on his feet again,
back to that restless pacing. “As long as they have that they
might as well be in a land fortress! And how long will they wait
before moving out with it? If they had a trace-beam on that copter,
they know—”
“Just where to attack!” Charis finished for him,
realizing for the first time what might be the folly of her own
move.
“You had no choice.” Thorvald caught her up on that
quickly. “A warning was important. And with the Wyvern
barrier up you had no other way of reaching them.”
“No, but I have a way of getting back there.” Charis
had been thinking. It was a crazy, wild plan, but it might work.
She had his full attention.
Sheeha! Charis had gone back to her first night on Warlock, to
the trader woman who had been shocked into mental unbalance by
contact with the witches.
“These invaders know that Jagan brought me here,”
Charis began. “Also that I wandered out of the post while
under Wyvern control; they can check all that. They might even have
the tape recording I made to your base when I appealed for help.
But it may be that they do not know that I took the
copter. Or, if they do—well, how much do they know of the
Power? They know the Wyverns used it to dominate and control their
males. So, perhaps they will think I was under Wyvern control while
taking the copter.
“Now, suppose I let them think I have escaped and that I
have headed back to the base because I think there is safety there.
I can act as Sheeha did.”
“And if they put you under a scanner?” Thorvald
demanded harshly, “or if they have already learned from
Lantee what you can do with the Power?”
“If they have, they won’t want me under a scanner,
not right away. They’ll want demonstrations,” Charis
countered. “They can’t know too much about it, can
they? What have you reported? Those reports must have brought them
here.”
“Reports? What have we had to say in those except
generalities? We had our instructions to go slow with the witches.
After they helped us wipe out a Throg base here—it was
entirely their efforts that broke that—they were in no hurry
to fraternize. The willingness to communicate had to come from
their side, contact was on a delicate basis. I don’t
understand about this nullifier. No off-world Company could have
learned enough from our reports to build it because we didn’t
know enough ourselves. Unless this machine is a modification of
something they already had and they brought it with them, simply as
an experiment which did pay off—too well!”
“Then,” said Charis, bringing him back to her own
suggestion, “they could not know about the Power and how it
works?”
“I don’t see how they could. They may have subverted
some of the male Wyverns. But those have never been able to dream
or use the Power. Company scouts could have some idea of what it
does, but they’d only be guessing at how it works.”
“So as an off-worlder who has had some experience with it,
I could make statements they would have no way of
testing?”
“Unless they use a scanner,” he reminded her.
“But when you’re dealing with a mental problem, you
don’t destroy its roots,” Charis countered. “I
tell you, if I went to them as a fugitive who had escaped the
Wyverns and was willing to cooperate, anyone with any intelligence
would not put me under force. He would want me to give
freely.”
Thorvald studied her. “There’s more than one kind of
force,” he said slowly. “And if they suspected that you
were playing a double game, they wouldn’t hesitate to use all
and every means to crack you for what they wanted. A Company on a
grab is moving against time, and their agents here would be
ruthless.”
“All right. Then what’s your answer? It
seems that I have the best chance of getting into the base on my
own terms. Do you or the witches have any at all? If you’re
taken trying to get in—the way Shann was—then
you’re expendable too.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I represent something they want—an
off-worlder who has had experience with the use of the Power. There
is a good chance to get close to the nullifier under those
circumstances. And if I could put that out of action, then the
witches could do the rest. As it is now, the Wyverns suspect us
too, just because we are off-worlders.”
“And how can you convince the Wyverns that you will work
against our own species?”
“They read my mind under the Power. There’s no
hiding the truth from them. Short of leading in an armed force,
which we don’t have, you aren’t going to take back your
base. And someone has to make a move before the invaders
do.”
“You don’t know how rough a grab force can
be—” Thorvald began.
Charis stood up. “I have been hunted by men before. You
can tell me very little about cruelty used as a weapon. But as long
as I present a chance of profit to those in command, I shall be
guarded. And I think that now I am your only key.”
The girl closed her eyes for a second. This was fear, this sick
chill. Yes, she knew what it meant to face hostility; before, she
had to run from it. Now she must walk defenseless straight into the
worst her imagination could picture for her. But there was
a chance. She had known that from the argument she had had with
Gidaya. Perhaps the continued use of the Power did implant in one a
confidence. Only, once at the base, she would not have the Power to
pull on; the nullifier would see to that. She would have only her
wits and luck to back her. Or—could she have more? The
wolverines, Togi and her cubs, lurked about the base, apparently
free of control and able to prey upon the alien guards. Charis had
had no contact with Togi, but with Taggi, who had been so strangely
one with her in that search for Lantee, and with Tsstu, it might be
different. Where were the animals now?
“You have something more in mind?” A change in her
expression must have brought that question from him.
“Tsstu and Taggi—” she began and then
explained more fully.
“But I don’t understand. You say that they
weren’t with you in the Cavern of the Veil or
afterward.”
“No, but they answered when we called. I don’t think
they were captive in any dream place. Perhaps they had to be free
to go their own way for a space after that. It—it was a
frightening experience.” Charis had a flash thought of the
corridor, the opening doors in which Lantee’s thoughts had
attacked her, and again she shivered. “They may have run from
what they remembered.”
“Then—will they return?”
“I think they will have to,” Charis said simply.
“We wove a bond then and still it holds us. Maybe we can
never loose it. But if I could find them, they would be allies
those at the base would not suspect.”
“Suppose the nullifier dampened contact between
you?” Thorvald persisted.
“If I reached them before I went in, they would know what
they could do in aid.”
“You seem to have all the answers!” He did not
appear to relish that admission. “So you’re to walk
alone into a trap and spring it—just like that!”
“Maybe I can’t. But I believe there’s no other
solution.”
“Again you read the pattern right, Sharer of
Dreams!”
They looked around, startled. Gidaya stood there and with her,
Gysmay.
Thorvald opened his mouth, then closed it again. There was a set
to his jaw that suggested that, while he knew silence was proper,
he resented it.
“You are persuaded it must be thus?” Charis asked of
the Wyverns.
Gysmay made a movement of the shoulders approximating a human
shrug.
“I, who am a Holder of the Upper Disk, will go with the
desires of my Sharers of Dreams in this matter. You believe, one
who is not quite a stranger, that this is what must be done. And
you are willing to take that doing into your own hands. So let it
be. Though we cannot give you any aid, since the evil which has
been brought to trouble our world holds about its heart a wall we
cannot pierce.”
“No, you cannot aid me once I am within that place. But
there is that you can do for me before I enter—”
“Such being?” Gidaya asked.
“That Tsstu and Taggi be found and summoned from where
they have gone.”
“Tsstu at least has power of a sort, but whether that may
be harnessed to your purpose—” the older Wyvern
hesitated. “However, no power, no aid, is to be despised when
one walks into a fork-tail’s den without a disk between
one’s fingers. Yes, we shall search out the small one and
also the other who serves these men. Perchance we can do more,
using like tools—”
Gysmay nodded eagerly. “That is a good thought, Reader of
the Rods! One can build on it. Perchance we can provide some action
for these invaders to think upon so that their minds will be in two
ways occupied and not fastened alone upon you and what you would do
among them. We cannot walk through their rooms, but we shall
see.” She did not elaborate.
Turning to Charis, Thorvald cut in: “I’m going with
you—in the copter.”
“You can’t!” Charis protested. “I
won’t take the flyer back. I must wander in as if I have been
lost—”
“I didn’t say land at the base. But I must be back
near the base, near enough to be able to move in when we
can.” He said that defiantly, glaring at the Wyverns as if he
would compel them to his will.
When we can, Charis thought, more likely—if we
can.
“It is well,” Gidaya answered, though there was a
small movement from Gysmay as if she were protesting. “Take
your machine and fly—to this place—”
Into Charis’s mind came instantly a clear picture of a
flat rock expanse squared off to make a natural landing strip.
“About a mile from the base!” Thorvald burst out; he
must also have had that mind picture and recognized it. “We
shall come in from the south—at night—without landing
lights. I can set us down there without trouble.”
“And Tsstu—Taggi?” demanded Charis of the
Wyverns.
“They shall join you there for whatever purpose you think
they may serve. Now you may go.”
Charis was back in the landing well where the two copters were
waiting, but this time Thorvald was with her. As the girl started
for the machine which had brought her to the Citadel, the Survey
officer caught at her arm.
“Mine—not that one.” He drew her with him
toward the other copter. “If it’s sighted after we
land, they’ll believe I returned and am hiding out. They
won’t connect it with you.”
Charis agreed to the sense of that and watched him settle behind
the controls as she took her place on the second seat. They lifted
with a leap which signaled his impatience more than his words had
done. Then, under the night sky, they drove on, the ocean below
them.
“They may have a search beam on,” he said as his
fingers played a dot-dash over course buttons. “We’ll
take the long way around to make sure we have the best cover we
can. North—then west—then up from the
south—”
It was a long way around. Charis watched with eyes over
which the lids were growing very heavy. The smooth sheen of the
night-darkened sea underneath them spread on and on in spite of
their speed. To be flying away from their goal instead of toward it
was hard to be reconciled to now.
“Settle back,” Thorvald’s voice was low and
even; he now had his own impatience under iron control.
“Sleep if you can.”
Sleep? How could anyone sleep with such a task before her.
Sleep— that . . . was . . . impossible . . .
Dark—thick, negative dark. Negative? What did that mean?
Dark, and then, deep in the heart of that blackness, a small fire
struggling to beat back the dark. A fire threatened, a fire she
must reach and feed. Bring it back to bright blaze again! But when
Charis strove to speed to the fire, she could move only with
agonizing slowness, so that the weight which dragged at her limbs
was a pain in itself. And the fire flickered, reblazed, and then
flickered. Charis knew that when it died wholly it might not be
relit. But she needed more than herself to feed that fire, and she
sent out a frantic, soundless call for aid. There was no
answer.
“Wake up!”
Charis’s body swayed in a rough grip, her head jerked back
and forth on her shoulders. She looked up, blinking and half-dazed,
into eyes which blazed with some of the intensity of the fire of
the dark.
“You were dreaming!” It was an accusation.
“They have a hold on you. They never meant—”
“No!” Enough understanding had returned to make her
shake off Thorvald’s hands. “Not one of their dreams.”
“But you were dreaming!”
“Yes.” She huddled in the copter seat as the machine
flew on under auto-pilot. “Shann—”
“What about him?” Thorvald caught her up
quickly.
“He’s still alive.” Charis had brought that
one small crumb of assurance out of the black with her.
“But—”
“But what?”
“He’s just holding on.” That, too, had come to
her although it was not so reassuring. What had strained Lantee to
the depths she had witnessed? Physical hurt? A scanner attack? He
was alive and he was still fighting. That she knew with certainty
and now she said so.
“No real contact? He told you nothing?”
“Nothing. But I almost reached him. If I could try
again—”
“No!” Thorvald shouted at her. “If he is under
a scanner, you don’t know how much they could pick up because
of such a contact. You—you’ll have to put him out of
your mind.”
Charis only looked at him.
“You’ll have to,” he repeated doggedly.
“If they pick you up in any way, you haven’t a chance
of going in as you’ve planned. Can’t you see? You are
the only chance Lantee has now. But you’ll have to reach him
in person in order to help; not this way!”
Thorvald was right. Charis had enough sense left to acknowledge
that rightness, though that did not make it any easier when she
thought of the small fire flickering close to extinction in a deep
and all-abiding darkness.
“Hurry!” She moistened her dry lips with her
tongue.
He was resetting their course. “Yes.”
The copter spiraled away to the right, heading toward the shore
they could not see and the task she had set herself.