by E. C. Tubb
For a moment he held her eyes then his hands reached out, caught her own, lifted them so the gleaming nails pointed towards the ceiling. Beneath the curve of sharp metal on her right index finger he could see the tiny hole of a surgical implant; a narrow tube which had been buried in the flesh. The finger of her left hand held another. It spat a minute cloud of vapor as he squeezed the first joint, the nodule he discovered beneath the skin. On the ceiling a tiny dart hummed to vanish into the plaster.
An effective range of about ten feet, he decided, more if the target were unclothed. The dart would bury itself within the tissue by ultra-sonic vibration and be coated with a blood-soluble poison.
"An assassin's weapon," he said. "It goes well with the nails."
"One never used before, Earl. You can believe that."
"What difference if it has?"
"None." She rubbed at her hands then stared her defiance. "And what business of yours is it if I did? What I've done before we met is no concern of yours. As what you've done is no concern of mine. For me, Earl, life began when I met you. Real life, I mean, not the shallow searching for adventure that had gone before. I love you, Earl. Don't you understand that? I love you!"
"And you killed Galbrene to prove it?"
"I killed to save you and would do it again if I had to." Turning she swept across the room, knocking against a small table in her agitation, sending a delicate vase to shatter on the floor. "Galbrene had you. I thought he would break your back. The man was like an animal in his strength. Can you honestly say that you could have beaten him on level terms?" She didn't wait for an answer. "It was a chance I daren't take. You had moved close, were within range, all that remained was to make sure I hit the right one. Your attack covered his fall."
And protected her position. If nothing else Dumarest could appreciate the desire to survive which consumed her.
She shrugged as, dryly, he mentioned it.
"So I was thinking of myself a little too, Earl. Can I be blamed for that? You know what would have happened to me had you fallen. But you didn't fall and everything is fine now. So why are we arguing?" Her smile held invitation. "Surely there is something more entertaining we could do?"
The nails, the secret weapons, the smile, the turn of her hips and the sidelong glance, the allure she knew so well how to project. All the hallmarks of the accomplished courtesan and yet, as she had reminded him, what had her past to do with the present?
And, as she had also pointed out, who was he to judge? "Earl!"
She was close to him, the robe open now, the parting revealing the long, lissom lines of her body, the contours of which he knew so well. Why not just accept her as she was, to ride the tide of seductive passion to whatever shore might be waiting? "Earl?"
He smiled at her frown and gently reached up to touch the crease between her eyes, smoothing it away with the tips of his fingers.
"Are you going to help me get a raft, Dephine?"
"No! Ask Hendaza."
"I have. He referred me to Kanjuk who, quite politely, referred me to you." Dumarest kept his voice casual. "A matter of traditional privilege, I understand. When I return with a trophy things will be different."
"Earl! No!"
"A small one." His smile widened a little. "The size won't matter. But once I have it I won't have to beg for favors. And," he added, "I won't have to risk being shot for insulting a superior."
"Lekhard?" She glanced to where the man's gun lay on a table. "He never gave you that to simply look at, Earl. There's been trouble between you, hasn't there?" She frowned again as he remained silent. "I don't trust that man. He's dangerous."
"Jealous would be a better word. Is he in love with you?"
"Love?" Her shrug was expressive. "Call it greed, the desire to possess, to own. He wants to prove himself a better man than you are by taking something you own. A fool, but others share his folly. Too many of them are eager to best you in the arena and in bed." She looked thoughtfully at the gun. "Maybe if you carried one of those they would think twice. You're right, Earl, you need a trophy. But you don't have to get it the hard way."
"No," he said. "That's why I need to go into town."
"To buy a gun?" She smiled with quick understanding. "Get it from the trading store run by the Hausi. It's close to the field." Slipping a ring from her finger she handed it to him. "This should fetch enough to buy what you need. I'll authorize the raft, but what of the driver?"
"I can handle it."
"But you'll have to take someone with you."
"I will," he said. "Navalok."
* * * * *
The town was small, a collection of low buildings, a tavern, a hotel for those held on business, the usual warehouses holding goods waiting shipment. The trading store was a large building containing an open room backed by a counter. Leaving the boy in charge of the raft Dumarest went inside.
"Welcome." Telk Yamamaten came forward from an inner room, his eyes shrewd beneath heavy brows. His skin, a dark chocolate, was scarred with the markings of his Guild. "How may I help you?"
Dumarest placed the jewelry he had won on the counter.
"You wish to sell?" The Hausi grunted as he stirred the heap with the tip of a finger. "This is cheap stuff. Flawed gems and coated base-metal. From Galbrene?"
"You know?"
"There isn't much happens on this world that I don't get to hear about, Earl. I may call you that?" He continued as Dumarest nodded. "I knew your name an hour after you'd landed. The fight before the body was cold. Why didn't you take the gun and badges?"
"Would they have been worth anything?"
"The badges, no, but the gun would have brought a little. But you were wise to refuse it. A thing like that can have a big effect on the way they regard you." He added, dryly, "Am I telling you something you hadn't thought of yourself?"
"I'm always willing to learn."
"Now you're being polite. That helps too when it comes to dealing with the Families. They're on the way out, you know. Dying."
"Decadent?"
"Decadent and dying." The agent held up a hand, the fingers splayed. "A Family," he explained. "The Keturah, for example. The name covers the entire genus, the fingers are branches, the Allivarre, the Caldillo, the Pulcher and so on; but all stem from the same root. They won't marry outside their Houses and so they're all inbred to a high degree. The others Families are the same. The only way they can survive is to break the pattern, marry outside their Houses and revitalize the gene pool. It won't happen, of course. Tradition is against it."
Dumarest said, "How much for the jewelry?" It lay between them, a few rings, a bracelet, a torus of interwoven strands studded with minute gems, a brooch. He added the ring Dephine had given him.
Yamamaten examined it, dropped it on the heap of other items.
"Five fifty rendhals," he said. "That's a little more than the cost of a short High passage."
"Cash?"
"Yes-I can do a little better for trade."
"I want the passage," said Dumarest. "I'll take the rest in kind. On hire if that's possible. You've a ship due soon?"
"The Ahdil if it's on schedule. Captain Ying is a friend of mine and I'll arrange a passage. You object to working if necessary? No? Well, maybe I can work something out. Leave it to me." A casual arrangement but a Hausi did not lie and the word of the agent was his bond. "Now, about the other things?" He stared his surprise as Dumarest told him what he wanted. "You going on an expedition or something?"
"I want to explore a cave."
"And camp out?"
"For a few days, yes."
"It's your business, but be careful. The olcept move around quite a bit in the hills and they could be attracted to where you are. I'd advise a heavy-duty laser, expensive, but worth it. No? A gun then, at least. Why beg for trouble?"
"Let me see the gun." It was similar to the one Lekhard had worn. Dumarest spun the chamber and snapped the trigger a few times. Yamamaten shrugged at his expression.
>
"It's standard to the Families and there's no point in stocking anything else. A holster? Ammunition?" He pursed his lips at the amount. "That's enough to start a war."
"No, just enough to teach someone how to shoot."
"The Lady Dephine? She doesn't need to be taught. She might be out of practice but, at one time, she could hit a mark with the best of them."
"You knew her?"
"She left shortly after I came to Emijar. That was years ago and I never thought she'd return. Once they get away they stay away-those with the courage to make the break. But she was unusual, full of fire and ready to challenge at the drop of a word. Fast too, so I've heard, and a little vicious. She'd aim to maim rather than to kill."
"Perhaps she was giving the fallen a chance?"
"Maybe, but they didn't look at it like that. Anyway, she's back now so what does it matter? A local girl who made good." The agent smiled and added, dryly, "But you'd know about that."
Dumarest said, "Has she been enquiring about ship-arrivals?"
"No. Is there anything else?"
"One thing-how do I kill an olcept?"
"Kill an olcept?" The agent narrowed his eyes, suspecting a joke and ready to be annoyed at the affront to his dignity. Then he said, slowly, "You mean it. Hell, man, you just take a gun and shoot it."
"And without a gun?"
"Of course! You want a trophy! Sorry, Earl, I didn't catch on. Well, the best thing to use is a spear. One with a long blade and checks at its root. You ever seen an olcept? No? Know what they look like? Good. Well, the gripping appendages aren't too serious, they use them to grip at food. In fact-here, let me show you."
He led the way to the back of the store, through a door and into a walled courtyard. Doors lined it behind which rested goods for barter, shipment and trade. In the open compound rested a creature about a foot long.
"That's a young one hatched just a week ago. It'll do nothing but eat and it'll grow while you watch it. In about a month it'll be a yard long and then I'll cut its rations."
Dumarest squatted better to study the olcept. Even though small it looked vicious. The snout turned towards him, deep-set eyes burning, the tail lashing and sending dirt leaping from the ground.
"They eat all the time," said Yamamaten. "And they never stop growing. The rate is constant but, of course, the larger they get the slower they grow. A matter of mass-intake and metabolic conversion, but you aren't interested in the biological data."
"Why do you keep it?"
"As a watch-dog. If anything comes over that wall it won't get away alive. They can be trained given patience and will follow a few simple orders. Just like a dog, in fact. When it gets too big I'll have it shipped to a zoo or set it free in the hills." The agent picked a long, thin wooden rod from a bundle which stood beside the door. "Now remember this. The brain is here." He tapped the creature on the reverse of the sloping skull. "It's small and well protected by thick bone. It can't easily be reached from above but if you can get the thing to rear you'll be able to reach it from beneath. Strike up and towards the tail from just behind the hinge of the lower jaw. For a big one you'll need a blade at least two feet long, plenty of thrust and a liking for having the flesh stripped from your bones by the front claws."
"The heart?"
"In the center just behind the front legs." Again the tip of the rod marked the point. "If you want to hit the spine aim here." The agent moved the rod. "The bone is thin and flexible. You can reach the gut from either side just before the back legs. Be careful of the stomach-plates, though, and watch the tail." He grunted as the creature snapped off the end of the rod with a flash of gleaming white teeth. "I don't have to warn you about the jaws."
"Any peculiarities?"
"You've hunted," said Yamamaten. "Not many would think to ask that. Well, they don't like to face the sun so it helps to keep it at your back. They can smell better than they can see so keep to windward. And they can hear better than any other animal I know. Move and they'll hear you, spot your position and move in before you know it. And don't try to run. They can catch a running man before he's covered a score of yards." Smiling he added, with grim humor, "Aside from that they're easy enough to kill."
Chapter Thirteen
From where he hung over the side of the raft Navalok shouted, "There, Earl! There-to the right and down!"
From his seat at the controls Dumarest saw a scarred slope dotted with scrub, a patch of shadow and something which could have been the opening of a cave. Cutting the power to the antigrav units he allowed the vehicle to fall and come to rest on the slope below the opening.
"Navalok! Wait!"
The boy ignored the command, springing from the raft to run up the slope towards the opening. Dumarest followed more slowly, eyes searching the terrain, noting each rock and clump of scrub. Predators were rare this high in the hills, but there could be stragglers and even a small olcept was to be treated with respect. Above the sun beat down from the zenith and the sky, a clear azure, stretched cloudless to the horizon. A fine day-the second they had been searching.
"Earl!" Dumarest heard the cry of triumph then the bleak admission of failure which followed. "No. No it isn't the one. It's just a shallow cave like all the others. Earl, I'm sorry."
Dumarest led the way back to the raft, lifted it as the boy climbed in. He set the controls so as to hover twenty feet above the ground.
"Navalok, listen to me. When you left the House with your father you headed north. Right?"
"Yes, Earl, as I told you. We traveled from an hour after dawn until noon when we set down and made camp. We ate and I went wandering over the slopes. It must have been say, two hours after landing, maybe a little more."
"And?"
That's it, Earl. I found the place and called my father and we examined it and he said we should return to the House without delay. We climbed into the raft and he set the course and-" His voice broke, but he forced himself to continue. "And then we crashed."
"When was that? Late in the afternoon?"
"Yes. It was dusk before they found us. My father was dead and I was hurt. For a long time I didn't know what had happened, just that I kept having dreams of falling. When I was strong enough they told me father was dead." He added, bleakly, "And that I would be a cripple for the rest of my life."
A lie, a simple operation could cure the boy's injured foot, and Dumarest wondered at the stern morality which had prevented it from having been done. The pride of bearing visible wounds, perhaps, or the result of some harsh tradition born in the past. A matter which faded into insignificance beside one of greater importance.
Where was the cave?
The boy had been certain he knew exactly where it was to be found. He's been wrong and had since compounded the error. Now he was searching with a wild, desperate abandon, trusting more to luck than anything else. A fact he must know and Dumarest had waited for him to realise it.
"Let's start from the beginning," he said. "When you headed north at what point did you aim? Your father must have had some guide. A peak, perhaps, or a pass, try to remember." And then, as the boy began to speak he snapped, harshly, "Think, boy! Think! Close your eyes, remember. You are with your father again, just setting out. It is a clear day and the raft is moving towards a certain point. You know what it is. Tell me!"
"The Prime of the Triades, Earl." Navalok opened his eyes. "It's the highest of three peaks and lies a little to the east of true north. But we've checked it."
One peak of several, the boy impatient, claiming to have recognised familiar signs, guiding the raft well to the east of the Prime. Dumarest lifted the vehicle higher and sent it towards the specified point. Before he reached it he sent the raft towards the House, turned, headed towards the peak as if they had come directly from the ancient building.
"There!" Excitement made the boy's voice shrill. "Earl! There!"
"No."
"It is, Earl. It is."
The spot at which he pointed was too
steep for anyone to make camp and, despite the shadow of an opening, Dumarest moved away from it. A jutting promontory lay a little to one side and lower down, scrub thick at the edges and a natural spot for a raft to make a landing. From a height of a dozen feet Dumarest examined the stoney dirt, saw the traces of a long dead fire.
"Do others come here?"
"Yes, Earl. It's a favorite place. Often fathers bring out their children for private tuition."
Long hours spent in learning how to handle a gun. A good place for teaching and one Navalok's father would have known. Dumarest landed, checked the area, and leaving the raft moved towards the uprising slope of the hill.
"Left or right, Navalok? Can you remember?" Then as the boy hesitated, he said, "It was past noon. Which way was your shadow? Behind you, before you, to one side?"
"Behind me," said the boy after a moment's thought. "I walked towards the sun. This way, I think." His hand lifted, pointed. "Yes, Earl. This way."
A small boy wandering at random over rock-strewn slopes, his face towards the sun. The light and the bad footing would have kept his head lowered and so narrowed the field of his vision. His father, watching, would have suspected no danger so the path must have been one of relative safety. A section of the hill clear of scrub, then, and one of easy access. And it was in the nature of an agile young boy to climb.
As it was the tendency of a child to exaggerate the size of an opening.
Navalok had been looking for an open cave-what he had found was a narrow vent half-hidden by fallen debris and masked by a mass of scrub.
Looking at it again he said, dubiously, "I'm not sure, Earl. The place I found was larger and more open."
The reason he had missed it before, but Dumarest was no longer trusting the boy's memory. Time would have wrought changes, rock could have fallen and the passage of years would have thickened masking vegetation.
"We'll check it out," he decided. "Navalok, get back to-" He broke off, looking into the sky, seeing the tiny shape sweeping towards them, the outline of an approaching raft.
Dephine had ridden alone. As she settled the vehicle down beside the one Dumarest had used she said, dryly, "Well, Earl, this is something new. I'd never have taken you for a teacher."