Norton, Andre - Dipple 02

by Night Of Masks (v5. 0)

  A pile of well-cleaned bones marked the place where the furred hunters had feasted, but there was no other sign of them. Nik forged ahead. He was in comparatively clear territory here, and his next landmark was the reef, though that was yet a good journey beyond. From there the climb into the city ruins—The city ruins! If there ever was a perfect place to lay an ambush, it was there—right there.

  Nik tried to remember what he had seen of the ruins, to think whether there was some other way around them to reach the tunnel break of the refuge. But he was afraid that if he avoided the obvious landmarks, he might become hopelessly lost. There was something frightening about launching out into the open sea bottom away from the old shoreline. With those cliffs at hand, the reef ahead, he had a sense of security, of knowing in part what he could expect. He decided that he would retrace the path he and Vandy had taken earlier.

  The coarse, gravelly soil slipped and slid under his boots as it had not earlier. He guessed that the moisture had drained out of it, leaving it the texture of sand, making walking just that much harder. His lungs still labored to separate air from the dankness, and he cut his pace.

  There was no more commotion in the rain lake below. There were no winged fishers, no signs of turmoil in the waters, which had receded a goodly distance from where they had been at the end of the storm. In the midst of one such dry part, a glint caught Nik's attention, and he wavered to a stop. This was tangled wreckage, not a rock outcrop. It was something fashioned long ago by intelligence—a ship, surface or air transportation of some kind. Metal had gone into its making and gave back now that sullen glint of light.

  It was still in sight when Nik knocked over a small creature with a thrown stone. He found himself holding a limp body with rudimentary leather wing flaps stretching between its front and rear legs, and that body was scaled. Trying not to think of its alien form, he skinned and cleaned it. Then he choked down mouthfuls of the rank-tasting flesh. Food was fuel, and fuel his body needed; he could not be dainty in his eating.

  On again—the reef was ahead, and in the reef he would shelter by nightfall, preferring it to the ruins. He could not do without sleep forever. It was getting harder to think clearly. Nik halted, his hand going to his head. That throb! It was like something—the whistle call of the Disians!

  Slowly, staggering a little, he turned about to view the cliff top to his left. Rock—that was all, just rock. No club wielder was climbing down again. But the muddle in his head—that throb which was more pain than sound—

  The reef—he would get to the reef and hole up there. It was darkening; it must be close to the day's end. He could see the reef, a black streak across the dull sea bottom. Nik wavered on, the gritty soil slipping under his feet so that once he fell to one knee and found it difficult to scramble up again.

  He feared a return of that throb in his head, shrinking from the very thought of it. His hand shook so that he had to belt hook the blaster. Was he sick from that food he had forced into him as Vandy had been sick the night before? There was something wrong—very wrong—

  Once Nik swung around to go back, back to the island hill and Leeds and Vandy. But then he knew that he could not make it. It would be better to reach the reef and rest there. The crevice in which he and Vandy had sheltered beckoned him. Just get there and rest—rest—His hand wiped back and forth across his face. Once that movement pushed aside the goggles, and he cried out in fear as his sight was distorted. He was no longer truly conscious of what was happening to him, only that apprehension was clouding his mind and that the thought of the hiding hole in the reef kept him moving.

  The rest of that day was a haze for Nik. But he roused when he lurched up against a rock and looked a little stupidly at a wall of them. He had reached the reef, he thought foggily. The reef—safety—rest—If he could only crawl a little farther!

  There were bright glints of light—or eyes, eyes watching—waiting—assessing his fatigue, his bemused mind? Was it that additional prick of fear that pulled Nik farther out of the fog? Something gave him power enough to drag himself up, along the rocks, heading for the pocket he remembered.

  He kicked away something that rattled against the stone and saw a claw-tipped bone flip up and away from his stumbling feet—the remains of the crawler he had blasted before their crevice camp. So, he was almost there now.

  The glint of eyes—they were still at a distance. His sobbing breaths beat in his own ears, so that he could not hear anything that might be creeping up for the kill.

  Just a little farther. Now—hold on to this rock, pull up to the next, an irregular stairway to the crevice. He reeled back against the very boulder where he had kept sentry two days earlier.

  Once more he drew blaster fumblingly and laid it on the rock. His hands still shook, but he could use both of them to bring that weapon into play against the eyes—

  A small part of Nik's mind was aroused enough now to wonder at his present half collapse. There was no real reason for him to be so exhausted, so dazed. Ever since that whistling when he had encountered the Disians—Nik rubbed his hand across his forehead, pressing the goggles painfully against his skin. No, he must not disturb those! He jerked his fingers away.

  He was so tired that he could not keep his feet—yet those waiting eyes—Sobbing a little, Nik wedged himself erect, dimly thinking that any attack would be limited to a narrow front he could defend. But how long could he continue to keep watch?

  His head fell forward; he was floating—floating on a shifting mist that enfolded, engulfed him, spun him out and out—

  Pain throbbed from his head down into his back and arms. Nik's head snapped up and back and struck against stone with shock enough to bring him out of that mist. The throb—but he was alert enough to see the thing working its way among the rocks, a shadow advancing from deeper shadows. He clutched the blaster and tried to press the firing button.

  The ray shot across the top of the barrier dock. It missed the creeper but sent it into retreat. Nik dragged himself forward. He had to meet what was coming in the open. He had to!

  His forward effort succeeded. Eyes—yes, there were the eyes again—one pair, two, more—He could not count them now—they spun, danced, jerked about in a crazy pattern when he tried to watch.

  Nik cried out as another throb burst in his head. All those eyes—they were uniting into one! No! He was wrong—not eyes but a light! An honest light—not of Dis—He had only to follow that to safety.

  He pushed away from the rock and crept around, angry that his body obeyed his will so sluggishly. He must hurry, must run to the light that meant an end to nightmares—only let him reach the light!

  Twelve

  The light was receding!

  "Wait!" Nik got that out in a cry close to a scream.

  And it appeared that the light did steady. He was far past wondering about its source. He believed only that it spelled safety. But his feet would not obey his will. He fell heavily, then tried to force his body up again, his attention all for the light.

  Shouting—Through the fog in his head, he thought he could hear words, understandable words—yet they were too far away, too confused to count as did the light. Nik began to crawl.

  He was close, too close, when the enchantment of the light failed, when he fronted the horror behind that mask. A Disian! Nik had a momentary glimpse of a naked body rising from behind another form, a dense, hairy blot from which wavered and sparkled the light. A memory, so vague that Nik could not hold it, came and went in a second—a fisher that used light for bait? When and where?

  Then he was overborne by the attack, smelled the reek of alien body scent, and was pinned flat to the ground under the full weight of the other's spring. Nik struggled feebly against that hold, but there was no escape. And always the throb in his head and body grew stronger until he shook and quivered with its beat.

  The weight on his back and shoulders was suddenly still, so still that one of Nik's squirms detached its hold. He made a greater
effort and tried to pull free. The Disian collapsed in a limp tangle of limbs, still half pinning Nik, but from under which he was able to crawl. He sat up and strove to find the blaster, but his groping hand encountered only empty hooks. Had he had it when he left the rocks? He could not remember.

  He jerked his feet from under the flaccid sprawl of the Disian. Why the other had gone down was beyond Nik's reasoning now. But that he had another chance, small as it might be, penetrated enough to send him scrabbling, still on hands and knees, back from that spot.

  Things flowed up from the reef rocks, seeming to grow out of the ground about—creatures that could not have life, that were out of off-world nightmares or of Vandy's fantasies with which they had clogged his brain! Nik was the focus of a weird, menacing ring, and the ring was drawing in.

  Nik gave a shriek of pure terror, pushed for a second almost over the border of sanity. He screamed again, but he also threw himself at the nearest of those monsters, driven to meet it rather than to wait for its spring. Raking claws in his face—pain—

  How far can one retreat from horror into oneself? Was it exhausted sleep that held Nik or a kind of withdrawal from what he could not face? He came out of that suspension little by little, with a reluctance of which he was quite aware.

  And because of that reluctance, he did not dare to move, to try to use his mind or his senses, lest he find himself back again in that circle of monstrous life.

  How soon did that first small hint of reason awake? When did he note that the air he was drawing into his lungs was not water-soaked so that he must labor to get a full breath? How long had it been since he had breathed so effortlessly—and felt this cool and dry?

  Or was this all part of some dream that would make the waking that much the worse for him? But perhaps it was the air that was clearing his mind as well as his lungs.

  Fresh air—the refuge! He was back in the refuge, and with that guess he unlocked memory. But, the refuge was in the hands of the enemy—which meant he was now a prisoner.

  For the first time, Nik willed his hand to move, only to panic when no muscle obeyed. This was not like the sapped exhaustion of his last confused recollection—this was a new helplessness. And once before he had been so frozen—when Leeds had taken him captive in the Dipple! He was a prisoner all right!

  Now, as at that previous time, Nik tried to make his ears serve to give him some idea of his surroundings. The swish-swish of the air was easy to identify. But there were other sounds, too, some close, some distant, He heard a clicking in regular pattern, and he thought it marked the action of some machine or installation. Then there was another sound, followed by the snap of space boot plate soles hitting the floor. Someone was walking, not toward him, however. That snapping drew farther away. Was he alone now or were there others in the room? The swish of air covered any sound of breathing.

  So, he was a prisoner in stass—which meant his body was pinned here helplessly—but his mind was no longer blanked out. How much of the immediate past was illusion and how much truth? He had certainly reached the reef and then been drawn out of that poor safety by the light. And the Disians had done that.

  Then—what had happened? The blackout of his Disian attacker—did Nik owe that to his present captors? Had they witnessed that battle and saved him for their own purposes? There was logic in that.

  So the Patrol had him. But they wanted Vandy, and there was a time limit on Vandy, giving Nik a talking point—unless they had already backtracked on him and made their own deal with Leeds—

  Nik's mouth was very dry; he tried to flex his lips, to move his tongue, without success. This stass was complete.

  There—more footfalls, and now the murmur of voices, voices speaking Basic, one with an accent.

  This time the steps came up to where he lay—two people, Nik was sure.

  There was silence for a long moment. They must be studying him—trying to learn if he had aroused to consciousness yet.

  "Amazing—" That was the accented voice. "The one thing we did not foresee."

  There was a sharp answering sound, which might have been an exclamation of anger or even a laugh without much humor.

  "We long ago discovered, Commander, that there is so often something unforeseen. Perfection is an ending very far in the future, if we ever reach that state. No, this was hardly to be foreseen, but it worked—very well, if we are to judge by the results we have had to face so far. You've seen the tape we discovered. And that was probably only one of many; it would have to be under the circumstances. You can't cut off a small boy from all companionship on his own age level. If you don't provide a friend, he will have one, even in his own mind. So, we have Hacon here—"

  "Yes, we have him!"

  Nik's bonds would not allow any physical reaction to the menace in that voice, the promise of ill to come in the emphasis on him.

  "Remember, Commander, he's our route to your young charge. He took the boy out of here before our attack, some time before it. You recall the testimony?"

  "But you found him out there alone!"

  "We found him coming back."

  "Which means?"

  "Probably that he was returning to set up a deal. There may have been more than one of these rats who took to the open before the end. If any of them were on Veep level or even had brains enough to do some moderate thinking, they'd want a deal. And they have only one thing to bargain with—the boy. So to send this bait of theirs back would be the logical move in opening negotiations."

  "To bargain with such filth!"

  "Commander, this is a big planet and an unknown one as far as we are concerned. You say the boy was fully conditioned, which means he'll need off-world food. They can't have too much of it out there. And they can be hiding anywhere. We have one radiation tracker, and that won't work—you saw it fail. This Dis is too far off our norm. Adjustments to the machine can be made, but that all takes time. With a conditioned boy held by desperate men, how much time do we have?"

  "Then you say to bargain?"

  "I say that the first consideration is the boy's safety. If that can be obtained by a bargain—we had better bargain."

  "And afterwards?"

  "Afterwards—we shall keep to the strict letter of any bargain, Commander, but the strict letter will not deter future action against those responsible for this. After all, this prisoner here was only a tool. Do you want just the hands? Is it not better to wait and take the brain behind them?"

  "To bargain—" The disgust was plain. "But you are right, of course. How soon do we get to it—this bargaining?"

  "At once!"

  The stiff shell that had encased Nik was gone. They had loosed the stass. He opened his eyes and lay staring up at the two men.

  One wore the black tunic of the Patrol, the diamond double star of a squadron leader on his collar. The other was brown of skin, and his hair was as dark as Vandy's. He was plainly of the same race as the boy. He too wore a uniform, more colorful than the Patrol officer's, and there was the glitter of decoration links on the breast of his dark red tunic. He stared back at Nik with a hatred and contempt that was hot and bitter, expressed in his eyes and the twist of his lips. The Patrolman had a calm detachment about the prisoner that was in a way just as forbidding. Nik was very glad he had had those moments to think ahead. The man in red spoke first.

  "Where is the boy?"

  Nik wet his dry lips with his tongue. His mouth felt cottony, so dry that he was not sure he could answer audibly. But matters were moving just as Leeds had foreseen. Vandy was their bargaining point, and both these men were ready to accept that. He swallowed and found a whisper of voice.

  "Safe—so far—"

  "I asked—where?"

  Nik was too close yet to stass stiffness to avoid that blow. It cracked against his face, almost battering him back into dizzy half consciousness. When he was able to focus again, he saw that the Patrolman had a grip on that red clothed arm and had pinned it to the other's side.

&nbs
p; "That won't do—any—good—" Nik was battling for more than Leeds' bargain now. He had no doubt that this commander, whoever he was, would try to beat the information out of him. He had to appeal to logic on the part of the Patrolman. "I'm not the one giving the orders—out there—"

  "But you do know where he is? You were sent here to bargain—" said the Patrolman.

  "No, came for food." Nik rubbed a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. "Vandy has to have food—"

  "You—!" The commander lunged at him, and the Patrol officer twisted between them.

  "i'Inad! Calm down, man. So you have no off-world supplies?"

  "Not enough—and the boy can't eat native food."

  "Then, by the Three Names," the commander exploded, "bring him back!"

  He would like nothing better, Nik wanted to say. But there was the bargain—Vandy for a ship, a clear start—safety for Leeds and for Nik Kolherne.

  "Why did you run with the boy in the first place?"

  That question was so unexpected that Nik answered the Patrolman with the truth.

  "They wanted to kill him—"

  "Who did?"

  There was no point in not telling the rest of it.

  "A Veep called Orkhad. He was in command here."

  "What did you expect to accomplish by running? There was no place to run to—or was there?" The Patrolman made that a question. "Another nest waiting?"

  "Not that I know of," Nik returned promptly. To tell all the truth that did not apply to Leeds and their present precarious position was, he believed, his best move. For all he knew, they could have him, probably did have him, under a scanner now. If he supplied the truth in most things, they would be more likely to listen to him.

  "So you just went out on the surface with the boy to hide out. What did you hope to gain?"

  "I was expecting someone to come, someone who could overrule Orkhad." Again the full truth.

  "A division in their ranks, eh?" The Patrolman did not question that.