"So we go up to this mountain area," he said. "What do we do there? I mean, if Helmer and the other Arkuuns couldn't find Ashton and his bunch when it's their world, how can we?"
"We've got a few gadgets the Arkuuns don't seem to have," Dilullo pointed out. "Like metal-locators of considerable accuracy. If Ashton's ship set down somewhere up there, we should be able to find it and pick up the trail from there."
They thought about that and did not seem very enthusiastic, but nobody objected. They knew it was risky, but being a Merc was a risky business.
"Janssen," said Dilullo.
"Yes?"
"You got a look at the Arkuun fliers that first time we landed at the spaceport. What do you think of them, compared to ours?"
Janssen was a nut about fliers. He considered starships a way of making a living, but dull. Flying a winged craft in atmosphere really excited him.
He said, "They really looked pretty good, John. But a little old-fashioned. They don't have VTO, I don't think they have the speed we have, and I doubt if they have the range."
Vreya, who had been getting increasingly bored with a conversation she did not understand, demanded to know what all this was about. Chane told her, in galac-to.
"Of course our fliers are old-fashioned," she said bitterly. "We do not go out to the stars any more; we do not know what progress is being made on other worlds. We do not know what goes on in the galaxy. My clothes are the same that Arkuun women have worn for generations."
They looked at her, at the short jerkin and her golden arms and legs, and all of them except Dilullo and Garcia uttered a unanimous wolf-whistle.
"Knock it off," said Dilullo. He added, poker-faced, "Chane, I appoint you to chaperone this friendless girl and protect her from these Casanovas."
Chane goggled and said, "Huh?" and Dilullo felt pleased with himself, thinking, That's the first time I ever took Chane by surprise.
He turned to the others. "As I've told you, I've got an idea that Helmer, or some of Helmer's men, will be up in that area waiting for us. What I want to know first is, could we slip up by night and land in the center of that area. Janssen?"
Janssen frowned, but after a moment he reluctantly shook his head. "I'd love to try it, for the heck of it. But landing by moonlight in the midst of high mountains, with no beacons and God knows what downdrafts—I have to tell you, John, it'd be suicide."
Dilullo nodded. "Okay, I'll take your word for it. So we go by daylight and run our chances. Milner?"
"Yes?"
"You fit one of the heavy lasers to the firing port of the plane. I've an idea we may want it."
Milner's weazened face cracked in a grin. "Figure to blast them out of the sky if they get in our way, eh?"
Dilullo said levelly, "You are a bloody-minded so-and-so. We are not going to kill anyone unless we have to, to save our own necks. Remember, this is the Arkuuns' world, and not ours. I don't want any big sweat with them; I just want to get Randall Ashton and go. If we meet fliers you'll try to disable them, nothing more."
Milner went sulkily off to mount the laser.
An hour later they had the camouflage net rolled up and stored inside the flier, and Janssen took them up out of the ruins into the lemon-colored glare of Allu-bane.
Dilullo, looking down from his seat, saw something flash out of the jungle and then, for a moment, he saw a face looking up at him, a noseless white face with glowing eyes and a horrible little mouth. It flashed out of sight as Janssen threw in the horizontal drive.
Dilullo thought, No wonder Chane was shaken up last night, if that's what he met. Not only hideous, but dangerous as well. Strong ... too strong even for a Varnan.
He looked at Chane, sitting beside Vreya and talking to her in a low voice, and thought, I wish I were young and carefree like that again. And then he thought, But I never was as carefree as Chane; nobody ever was, except a Starwolf.
Their flier went north and north for hours. Endless red jungle, starred here and there by old white ruins. A yellow river seemed to run north-south and was a big, tawny flood.
It seemed as though the crimson jungle would go on forever. But finally, as Allubane was declining toward the horizon, Janssen spoke from where he handled the controls.
"John."
Dilullo went up and looked over his shoulder. Far ahead, dark'mountains shouldered the yellow sky.
"They're plenty high," he said.
"Not the mountains," Janssen said. "This side of them, at about twelve o'clock."
Dilullo peered. His far sight was pretty good, and presently he saw the small black specks against the lemon sky, getting rapidly bigger.
"Fliers," he said dismally. "I was afraid of that." He turned around and yelled, "Milner!"
Milner, who had been looking singularly unlovely as he slept with his mouth open, came bounding out of his seat.
"Man that laser," said Dilullo. "Remember what I told you— no killing if we can help it. Aim at their tail sections."
Milner shrugged. "You show me a nice safe way to shoot people out of the sky without hurting them, I'll do it."
Dilullo gave him the special smile that he reserved for people who were being difficult. "Try to, Milner," he said.
Milner had seen that smile before; he muttered, "Oh, all right," and went to the firing-port.
"Buckle in," Dilullo told Chane and the others. "I think we're in for a little rough flying."
The three Arkuun fliers came rushing at them. Jans-sen, moving swiftly, flipped the controls and their own flier stood on its tail. Something flashed by and there was an explosion well behind them.
"Missiles," said Janssen. "Pretty close, too."
"Close with them," said Dilullo. "Be ready with that laser, Milner."
Janssen did a swift loop and sent the flier rushing forward again. The three Arkuun craft, fast but not so maneuverable, tried to take evasive action, but Janssen brought the flier down on them from a higher altitude.
"Look, I'm one of those old pilots back in the Twentieth Century's World War One that I read about!" said Janssen happily. "Dogfights in a Spad, yet! Eh-eh-eh-eh-eh!" And he made a sound like a machine-gun going off.
"For God's sake, why did I have to go to the stars with a comedian!" said Dilullo.
Then the three Arkuun fliers rushed up at them.
X
The laser flashed and cracked. Milner was aiming for the leading flier.
He missed. Janssen threw the skitter-flier around in a fast curve and then came back toward the other fliers again.
"How many chances do you need to hit something?" he said, without turning his head.
Milner, who was an expert with the laser and rarely missed, said something so unprintable that it made Dilullo glad that Vreya couldn't understand it.
Missiles zipped past them, but far wide. The Arkuuns veered their course, but a shade too late. Milner let go with the laser again, slicing through the tail of the leading flier.
Chane sat and watched the flier go fluttering down. He felt an enormous interest in this kind of fighting, which was new to him. The Starwolves rarely used air-fliers in fighting; they usually didn't have the time to haul them out and get going with them, when they raided a world.
He saw that the damaged flier was heading toward the only possible landing place in the thick jungle—the wide, tawny river that ran away southward. The pilot made it; he saw the flier smack the water and its two occupants scrambling out of it. Chane grinned. Dilullo, with his prejudice against killing, would be pleased.
Vreya, beside him, was not looking out now. She was looking at Chane in surprise and wonder.
She started to say something but at that moment Janssen threw the skitter-flier around in a roll-over and turn that threw them hard against their belts.
The Arkuuns seemed momentarily bewildered by the unexpected maneuver. Milner triggered the laser, aiming at the nearest of the two fliers. He missed again, just grazing and cutting a few inches off the wing-tip of the Arkuun craft.
<
br /> Milner's profanity this time was unspeakable. He swung the laser around.
"Hold it," said Dilullo. "They're sheering off."
The Arkuun fliers, their occupants apparently losing nerve, were now racing away toward the east.
"Let them go," said Dilullo.
He unfolded the map on his knees and squinted at it. "There's a city named Anavan marked, not too far to the east," he said. "They'll soon be back with more fliers, so we don't have unlimited time. Janssen, you set up a sweep pattern. Bollard can run the locator."
Chane found Vreya still studying him with a wondering look. "You were amused when we were in danger," she said. "You were smiling."
Chane shook his head. "Just covering up my nervousness, that's all."
"I don't think so," said Vreya. "You're different from these others. Last night while you were out in the jungle, that man"— she nodded her head toward Milner—"caught me away from the others. I broke his hold easily and hit him in the face. He had nothing like your strength."
Chane shrugged. "My strength just comes from regular exercises and leading a moral life."
Vreya's gray-green eyes became mocking. "When did you start leading it—early this morning?"
Bollard had taken the co-pilot seat. In front of it were the instruments of the metal-locator, along with the radioactive-matter detector, the atmosphere analyzer, and all the other complex instruments you needed if you meant to use a flier on alien worlds. The locator was designed to throw a broad fan of force, analogous to radar but responsive only to metal.
"Garcia says that Ashton's ship is a Class Four, crew of eight," Dilullo said. "Set it so it won't get echo from anything much smaller than that."
Bollard grunted, and bent to adjust the controls on the face of the instrument. Finally he said, "Okay."
Dilullo nodded to Janssen, who started the skitter-flier on an east-west course.
Chane said, "Vreya."
"Yes?"
"You don't want us to find Randall Ashton, do you?"
Her eyes went cold. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Because," Chane said, "I think it was you and your Open-Worlders who wanted him lost in the first place. Why should you people come and get Ashton free, so he could go off into the wilderness searching for the Free-Faring?"
"I told you," she said. "We offered that in exchange for weapons he would bring us later ..."
"That's a thin explanation," said Chane. "I think you wanted Ashton lost—good and lost—because you'd found out he was a very rich and very important man back on Earth. You people figured there'd be an expedition of some kind come cracking into the Closed Worlds to find him, and that's what you wanted."
Her face became stormy and he thought for a moment that she was going to hit him.
"Now I want to tell you something about John," said Chane. "He never gives up. He won't give up now. He'll keep searching with the locator for Ashton's ship until he finds it. Or until Helmer gets a report from those two fliers, and comes here with a bigger squadron to shoot us out of the sky. Helmer will do that, won't he?"
"Yes," she said bitterly. "He and his fanatics who follow old superstitions and dogmas will kill, if necessary, to keep the Closed Worlds closed."
"Janssen and Milner are pretty good," said Chane. "But I don't think they can stand off a squadron."
"You're trying to frighten me," she accused.
Chane grinned. "I don't think you frighten very easily, lovely. But I believe you've miscalculated. You think John will give up searching before Helmer comes. I'm telling you he won't."
Doubt replaced the anger in her eyes. Chane added, "If you know anything that'll get us down from this sitting-duck position, now is the time to tell it."
She looked again at Dilullo, standing behind Bollard, and the bleak, grim look in his harsh-boned face seemed finally to convince her.
"All right," she said.
Chane said to Dilullo, "Vreya has remembered something that might help us find the ship."
"Ah-huh," said Dilullo. "I kind of thought she might."
Chane decided that while Dilullo might not have the cunning of a Starwolf, he was pretty good at running a bluff.
Vreya studied the map again and then made a pencil-mark on it. "There is the place where they were going to land the ship. Then they would use a small flier to begin searching for the Free-Faring."
Chane thought, And Ashton would be off on a wild-goose chase that would keep him lost till it made big trouble for the Closed Worlds. Yes.
Dilullo took the map to Janssen and presently the skitter-flier started going almost due north, at its highest speed.
Vreya turned her face pointedly away from Chane. He shrugged, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.
He woke up to find the skitter-flier was still humming quietly along. Most of the others were sleeping. Chane knew that it was hours later, for the yellow flare of Allubane was much farther down the sky.
He went forward and looked over Janssen's shoulders.
"Rugged," said Janssen. "Real rugged."
Ahead of them, a stupendous range of dark mountains shouldered up against the sky. Beyond it, they could see isolated peaks of still other ranges, like great fangs.
"It's a mess," said Janssen. "And a valley in that mess is where we're heading. Wish me luck, Chane."
"Luck," said Chane, and went back to his chair.
Vreya was sleeping like the others, and he thought it wisest to let her sleep.
A little later, Dilullo woke up, yawning and stretching. "How long now?" he asked Janssen.
"Half an hour ... maybe a little more," said Janssen.
Dilullo came fully awake. He went forward and bent over the pilot's shoulder.
"All right," he said. "It's time we started getting clever. We have to assume the Arkuuns have pretty good radar. The way they smacked our ship out in space would indicate that."
"So?"
"So change course. Don't go toward the spot behind the range we're actually heading for. Cross the range a long way west of that spot, come down behind the range and then fly back east under cover so they can't radar us."
Janssen turned around and looked at him. "Did you ever fly one of these things much, John?"
"I can handle one if I have to," said Dilullo. "I never made a profession out of it."
"Be glad of that," said Janssen. "You won't be worrying so much when I carry out that order of yours."
The skitter-flier went over the range, heading obliquely in a northwest direction now. Chane looked down at the dark, bare humps of the mountains.
Already the forested valleys between them were starting to fill with dusk.
Janssen swung them down behind the range, then started eastward. It was dizzying flying, for the mountains towered up all around them, stark against the lemonish glare of the setting sun. The change of direction woke the other Mercs. Bollard lamented audibly that he had no beer. The others looked yawny and stupid. A lot of the time, Chane thought, a Merc looked and felt that way.
"Just up ahead," said Janssen finally. "That valley."
They were approaching a place where a forested valley angled off northeastward into the mountains.
"All right," said Dilullo to Bollard, and Bollard turned the locator on again.
The skitter-flier went up the angling valley at no more than a thousand feet above the treetops.
"Take her up a bit," said Bollard. "I can't sweep the whole valley this low."
Janssen took the flier up. In no more than ten minutes, Bollard exclaimed, "Got it." He added, "I think."
They peered down. Chane could see nothing but a forest of incredibly huge and lofty trees. But at one point in the crimson sea of foliage, there was a break. It was a clearing where there appeared to have been a fire in recent years, but there was nothing much in the clearing.
"It could be it," said Dilullo. "They could have landed in that clearing and then used the ship's power to kick it back under the trees. Those trees are far en
ough apart, and a Class Four is a small enough ship, to make it possible."
He made a quick decision. "Take us down there, Janssen."
Janssen circled around and came back and then dropped them down on VTO drive. The skitter-flier came to rest in the clearing.
They went out of the flier and looked around in the twilight. From the air, the clearing had looked untouched. But once on the ground, Chane saw instantly where a small ship had landed, and had then been kicked beneath the gigantic trees. The scars in the ground had been camouflaged with brush and litter, but you could see them clearly enough when you stood on the ground.
Dilullo started following the camouflaged scars in the ground. They passed under the shade of the trees. Only on one or two worlds had Chane ever seen trees so huge. They went hundreds of feet into the air, and they were a thousand feet or more apart, as befitted their mightiness. The twilight under them was deepened almost into darkness.
They had not far to go. A bare few hundred feet ahead, a bulk of metal glinted dully.
"As easy as that," said Chane.
"A little too easy," said Bollard. "Mercs don't get anything this easy."
A few minutes later, Chane decided that Bollard was right. They were nearing the ship when Dilullo stopped and looked down and to one side.
Chane looked that way and saw something white. Bones. Human bones, polished clear by the scavengers or insects of the forest.
"You're an anthropologist, Garcia," said Dilullo. "Take a look."
Garcia went and bent over the bones, and they all waited until he took a look.
"Definitely terrestrial," said Garcia. He looked troubled. "Three Earthmen. But what bothers me is that the skulls of two of them and the arms of one have been torn clean loose from the main skeleton."
"Animals?"
"I don't think so," said Garcia. He added, "None of them is Ash ton or McGoun. I know the shape of their skulls."
"A pity," muttered Bollard. "If we could find Ashton's indubitable remains, we could take them and go peacefully home and make a lot of money without any more trouble."
Dilullo said nothing, but led on toward the ship. Outside it, he stopped again. There were more bones. They seemed to be of two men, but they were so mixed up that it was hard to be sure. Not only skulls but three arms and one leg were torn loose and lying at a little distance.
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