Finally, the lords of Kharal came. There were six of them, tall in their rich robes, all but one of them middle-aged or elderly. They seated themselves with ceremony at the table, and only then did they look superciliously across at Dilullo and Bollard.
Dilullo had dealt with men of a good many star-worlds, though with none quite so insular as these, and he was determined not to be put into any position of inferiority in making this deal.
He said clearly and loudly in galacto, "You sent for me."
Then he was silent, staring at the lords of Kharal and waiting for them to answer.
Finally, the youngest Kharali, whose face had darkened with resentment, said harshly, "I did not send for you, Earthman."
"Then why am I here?" demanded Dilullo. His hand waving toward Odenjaa, he said, "This man came to me at Achernar, many weeks ago. He told me that Kharal had an enemy, the planet Vhol, the outermost world of this system. He said that your enemies of Vhol have a great new weapon which you wish destroyed. He assured me you would pay me well if I brought men and helped you."
His deliberately patronizing statement brought scowls to the faces of all the others, except for the very oldest Kharali, whose eyes studied him coldly from a face that was a spider-web of wrinkles.
It was this oldest man who answered. "Collectively, we did send for you, though one of us dissented. It may well be that we can use you, Earthman."
Insult for insult, Dilullo thought. He hoped that now that they had shown proper contempt for each other, they could get down to business.
"Why are those of Vhol your enemies?" he asked.
The old man answered. "It is simple. They covet our world's mineral wealth. They are more numerous than we, and they have a somewhat more advanced technology"—he spoke the last as though it was a dirty word— "and so they tried to land a force and conquer us. We repelled their landing."
Dilullo nodded. This was an old story. A star-system got space-travel, and then one of its worlds tried to take over the others and start an empire.
"But the new weapon? How did you learn of this?"
"There have been rumors," said the old Kharali. "Then a few months ago, a reconnoitering Vhollan cruiser was disabled by our own cruisers. There was one living officer in it, whom we captured and questioned. He told us all he knows."
"All?"
Odenjaa, smiling, explained. "There are certain drugs we have that can make a man unconscious, and in his unconsciousness he will answer every question, and not even remember it afterwards."
"What did he say?"
"He said that soon Vhol would destroy us utterly, that out of Corvus Nebula they would bring a weapon which would annihilate us."
"Out of the Nebula?" Dilullo was startled. "But that place is a maze of drift, uncharted, dangerous...." He broke off and then said, with a sour smile, "I can see why you wanted to hire Mercs to do this job."
The youngest of the lords of Kharal said something harsh and rapid in his own language, looking furiously at Dilullo.
Odenjaa translated. "You are to know that Kharalis have died trying to enter the nebula, but that our ships lack the subtle instruments that the Vhollans and you Earthmen use."
Dilullo thought that that was probably true. The Kharalis had not had space-travel for too long, and they were the kind of insular, tradition-ridden people who were not very good at it. They had no star-shipping at all; the ships of other stars brought them goods to exchange for the rare and valuable gems and metals of Kharal. When he came to think of it, he wouldn't want to try bucking that nebula in a planet-cruiser as they had.
He said gravely, "If I seem to reflect on the courage of the men of Kharal, I apologize."
The Kharali lords looked only a little less angry. "But," added Dilullo, "I must know more of this. Did your captured Vhollan know anything of the nature of the weapon?"
The old Kharali spread his hands. "No. We have questioned him many times under the drug, the last time only a few days ago, but he knows nothing more."
"Can I talk to this Vhollan captive?" asked Dilullo.
Instantly, they became suspicious. "Why would you want to confer with one of our enemies, if you are to work for us? No."
For the first time, Bollard spoke, in the soft lisp that seemed so incongruous from his moon-fat face.
"It's too damn vague, John."
"It's vague," Dilullo admitted. "But it might just be done." He thought for a minute, and then he looked across the table at the Kharalis and said, "Thirty light-stones."
They stared at him puzzledly, and he repeated patiently, "Thirty lightstones. That is what you will pay us if we succeed in doing this thing for you."
They looked first incredulous, then furious. "Thirty lightstones?" said the young Kharali lord. "Do you think we would give little Earthmen the ransom of an emperor?"
"How much is the ransom of a world?" said Dilullo. "Of Kharal? How many of your lightstones will your enemies take if they conquer you?"
Their faces changed, only a little. But, watching them, Bollard murmured, "They'll pay it."
Dilullo gave them no time to reflect on the magnitude of his demand. "That will be the payment if we find and destroy the weapon of your enemies. But first we must learn if we can do that, and the learning will be very risky for us. Three of the lightstones will be paid to us in advance."
They found their voices this time, snarling their anger. "And what if you Earthmen take the three jewels and go your way, laughing at us?"
Dilullo looked at Odenjaa. "You were the one who looked for Mercs to hire. Tell me, did you hear of Mercs ever cheating those who hired them?"
"Yes," said Odenjaa. "Twice it happened."
"And what happened to the Mercs who did that?" pursued Dilullo. "You must have heard that, too. Tell it."
A little reluctantly, Odenjaa replied. "It is said that other Mercs took them, as prisoners, and delivered them over to the worlds which they had swindled."
"It is true," said Dilullo, to those across the table. "We are a guild, we Mercs. Nowhere in the galaxy could we operate if we did not keep faith. Three lightstones in advance."
They still glared at him, all except the oldest man. He said coldly, "Get the jewels for them."
One of the men went away, and after a little time he came back and with an angry gesture sent three tiny gleaming moons rolling across the table toward the Earthmen. Tiny, thought Dilullo, but beautiful, beautiful, seeming to fill a part of the room with dancing, dazzling swirls of light. He heard Bollard suck in his breath, and it made him feel like a god to reach a hand and grasp three moons and put them in his pocket.
There was a sound at a door and Odenjaa went there, and when he came back from the door his eyes glittered at Dilullo.
"There is something that concerns you," he said hissingly. "One of your men has intruded, has tried to kill ..."
Two tall Kharali men came in, supporting between them a drunkenly staggering figure.
"Surprised?" said Chane, and then fell down on his face.
V
It seemed to Chane before he awoke that Dilullo's voice was speaking to him from a great distance. He knew that this could not be. He perfectly remembered how, numbed by the stun-gun's effect, he had fallen down when his captors released him.
He remembered lying flat on the floor and hearing a Kharali voice say, "This man does not go with you. He must remain here to be punished."
And Dilullo's voice calmly answering, "Keep him and punish him, then," and his captors picking him up and dragging him through many levels to a place of cells, into one of which they had thrown him.
Chane opened his eyes. Yes, he was in the rock cell, which had a barred door opening into a red-lit corridor, and in the wall opposite the door a nine-inch square loophole window looking out at the glowing night sky of Kharal.
He lay on the damp rock floor. He had sore places in his ribs, and now he remembered that they had kicked him for a while after they dragged him into this cell.
/> Chane felt that some of the numbness had left him, and he hauled himself to sit with his back against the wall. His head cleared. He stared around the cell, and felt a wild feeling of revulsion.
He had never been caged before. No Starwolf was ever imprisoned ... if one was caught on a raid he was ruthlessly killed at once. Of course these people didn't know he was a Starwolf in everything but appearance. That did not change his fierce claustrophobic resentment.
He was about to get up and try his strength on the thick metal door-bars when it happened again. He heard the tiny voice of Dilullo speaking to him as from a great distance.
"Chane...?"
Chane shook his head. A stun-gun could have odd aftereffects on the nervous system.
"Chane?"
Chane stiffened. The tiny whisper was not directionless. It seemed to come from just below his own left shoulder.
He looked down at himself. There was nothing there but the button that secured the flap of the left pocket of his jacket.
He turned his head a little, and brought the pocket and its flap-button up to his ear.
"Chane!"
He heard it quite clearly now; it came out of the button.
Chane brought the button around to the front of his face and whispered into it.
"When you gave me this fine new jacket, why didn't you tell me this button was a little transceiver?"
Dilullo's voice answered dryly. "We Mercs have our little tricks, Chane. But we don't like everyone to know them. I would have told you later, when I was sure you wouldn't desert us."
"Thanks," said Chane. "And thanks for walking off and letting the Kharalis keep me."
"Don't thank me," said the dry voice. "You deserved it."
Chane grinned. "I guess I did, at that."
"It's too bad," said the tiny voice of Dilullo, "that tomorrow morning they'll take you and break both your arms, as retribution. I don't know what you'll do when they turn you out then to die slowly."
Chane brought the button back around to his lips and whispered, "Did you go to the trouble of calling me and letting me know about the transceiver just to express your sorrow?"
"No," answered the voice of Dilullo. "There's more to it than that."
"I thought there was. What?"
"Listen carefully, Chane. The Kharalis hold a Vhol-lan officer prisoner, presumably in the same prison area you're in. I want that man. We're going to Vhol, and we won't be under suspicion there if we take them one of their own whom we've got free."
Chane understood. "But why didn't you ask the Kharalis for him?"
"They got suspicious when I even asked to talk to the man! If I'd asked them to let me take him away, they'd be convinced I was going to throw in with the Vhol-lans."
"Won't they be just as suspicious if I break this Vhol-lan out?" asked Chane.
Dilullo answered sharply. "With luck, we'll be away from Kharal and their suspicions won't matter. Now don't argue, but listen. I don't want this man to know why you're helping him escape, so tell him you need him to guide you out, that you were brought in unconscious, and so on."
"Neat," said Chane. "But you forget one thing, and that's getting out of this cell."
"The button of your right-hand jacket pocket is a miniaturized ato-flash. Intensity six, duration forty seconds. The stud is on the back," Dilullo said.
Chane looked down at the button. "And how many more of these little tricks have you got?"
"We have quite a few, Chane. But you don't. I didn't trust you with more than two and didn't even tell you about those."
"Suppose this Vhollan isn't imprisoned here, but somewhere else?" asked Chane.
Dilullo's whisper was untroubled. "Then you'd better find him. If you come out without him, don't bother coming to the ship. We'll take off and leave you."
"You know," said Chane admiringly, "there are times when I think you'd make a Starwolf."
"One more thing, Chane. We have to come back to Kharal, if we succeed, to get our pay. So no killing. Repeat, no killing. Out."
Chane got to his feet and silently flexed his arms and legs for minutes until he was sure the last numbness had left them. Then he tiptoed to the barred door, pressing his face against it.
He could see a row of similar doors opposite, and at the far end of the corridor he could just see the feet of a guard who sat sprawled in a chair there. He stepped back, and thought.
After a time he carefully unhooked both of the buttons from his jacket. The transceiver button he put into a shirt pocket. Then he took off the jacket, and got down on the floor by the barred door.
He unobtrusively wrapped the jacket around the base of one of the door-bars, leaving the bar exposed at one point. He carefully brought the tiny aperture of the button ato-flash against the bar, using his free hand to throw a fold of the jacket over the other hand and the button. Then he pressed the stud on the back of the button.
The tiny flash was veiled by the jacket, and its hiss was drowned by the cough Chane let go. He kept the flash on for twenty seconds, and then released the stud.
Little tendrils of smoke came up from scorched parts of the jacket. Chane used his hands as fans to draw the smoke into the cell, so it would go out the loophole window instead of drifting down the corridor.
He unwrapped the scorched jacket. The bar had been burned through.
Chane considered. He could burn through the bar another place and move a section, but he did not want to do that unless he had to; he might need the ato-flash again.
He put the tiny instrument in his pocket, and laid hold of the severed bar and tested it. He felt pretty sure from the feel of it that his Varnan strength was enough to bend it now. But he was also pretty sure that it would make noise.
If you stopped to think too much, you could die before you made up your mind. Chane gripped the severed bar, and let all his revulsion at being caged will his muscles into a wild surge of power.
The bar bent inward, with a metallic sound.
There was just space enough for him to squeeze out, and he went out fast for it had to be quick or not at all.
The Kharali guard jumped up from his chair to see the Earthman bounding at him like a dark panther, with incredible speed.
Chane's hand chopped and the guard fell senseless with his hand reaching vainly toward a button on the wall. Chane eased him to the floor and then searched him, but there was no weapon on the man, and no keys. He turned, his gaze searching along the corridor. He saw nothing that looked like a spy-eye. Apparently the Kharalis, who didn't care much for gadgets, had figured the alarm-button was enough.
Apparently, also, they didn't put many people in jail, for most of the cells were empty. Chane was not surprised. From what he had seen of them, the Kharalis were the type who would get more pleasure out of executing or punishing a man in public than in jailing him.
In one cell, a humanoid lay sprawling and snoring, his hairy arms moving in his sleep. He had some swollen bruises, and from him came an overpowering stench of the acid intoxicant.
Two more cells were empty but in the next a man was sleeping. He was about Chane's size and age and he was a white man. Not swarthy white, not Earthman white, but an albino white with fine white hair. When Chane hissed and awakened him, he saw the man's eyes were not albino but a clear blue.
He jumped to his feet. He wore a short tunic quite unlike the Kharali robes, and a sort of officer's harness over it.
"Do you know the way out of this city?" Chane asked, speaking galacto.
The Vhollan's eyes widened. "The Earthman they dragged in a while ago. How—".
"Listen," Chane interrupted. "I got out of the cell. I want to get out of the whole damned city. But I was unconscious when they brought me in, and don't know where I am. If I get you out of there, can you guide me? Do you know the ways?"
The Vhollan began to babble excitedly. "Yes, yes, I know; they have taken me in and out many times, for questioning. I won't answer them, so they drug me for some reason and
bring me back, but I've seen, I know____"
"Stand back, then." Chane bent down and used the remaining power of the ato-flash to cut through the base of a door bar. There was not quite enough power to cut through it completely.
The bar was nine-tenths severed. Chane sat down, braced his feet against the other bars, and then grabbed the nearly-severed one just above the cut. He let it go fast with a muttered curse. It was still hot.
He waited a minute, tried again, and found it had cooled enough. He braced his feet and put his back into it and pulled.
The long muscles that Varna had given him slid and swelled and the nearly-severed bar broke free with a pung. He didn't relax, he kept pulling, and the bar bent slowly outward. The Vhollan squeezed out fast.
"You've got strength!" he exclaimed, staring.
"It only looked like it," Chane lied. "I'd cut through the top of the bar before I woke you."
The Vhollan pointed toward the door at the end of the corridor opposite to the one where the guard had sat.
"The only way out," he whispered. "And it's always locked from the other side."
"What's beyond it?" Chane demanded.
"Two more Kharali guards. They are armed. When the one in here wanted out, he simply called through the door to them."
The man, Chane noted, was trying to speak quickly and to the point, but he was shaking with excitement.
Chane pondered. He could only see one way to get that door open, and so they would have to try it and see what happened.
He took the Vhollan by the arm and ran with him, silently, down the corridor to where the guard lay slumped. He had the Vhollan stand with his back against the wall, just beside the alarm button. Then Chane took the unconscious guard and leaned him up face foremost against the Vhollan.
"Hold him up," Chane said.
It did not look too convincing, he thought. The unconscious guard was taller, and his robed figure leaned forward in a drunken, improbable way. But he did hide the Vhollan standing against the wall, and if the deception was only good for a few seconds, that should be enough.
Starwolf (Omnibus) Page 3