This was a long chance to take, but it was the only way to contact the grubbers. They were savages, but still they had come from human stock. And they hadn’t sunk so low as to stop the barter with the civilized Pyrrans. He had to contact them, befriend them. Find out how they had managed to live safely on this madhouse world.
If there had been another way to lick the problem he would have taken it; he didn’t relish the role of martyred hero. But Kerk and his deadline had forced his hand. The contact had to be made fast and this was the only way.
There was no telling where the savages were, or how soon the:
would arrive. If the woods weren’t too lethal, he could hide there, pie] his time to approach them. If they found him among the supplies, the:
might skewer him on the spot with a typical Pyrran reflex.
Walking warily, he approached the line of trees. Something move
on a branch, but vanished as he came near. None of the plants nea
a thick-trunked tree looked poisonous, so he slipped behind it. Ther
was nothing deadly in sight and it surprised him. He let his body rela
a bit, leaning against the rough bark.
Something soft and choking fell over his head; his body was seizei in a steel grip. The more he struggled, the tighter it held him until th blood thundered in his ears and his lungs screamed for air.
Only when he grew limp did the pressure let up. His first pani ebbed a little when he realized that it wasn’t an animal that attacke him. He knew nothing about the grubbers, but they were human s he still had a chance.
His arms and legs were tied, the power holster ripped from his am He felt strangely naked without it. The powerful hands grabbed hir again and he was hurled into the air, to fall face down across somethin warm and soft. Fear pressed in again for it was a large animal of som kind. And all Pyrran animals were deadly.
When the animal moved off, carrying him, panic was replaced b
a feeling of mounting elation. The grubbers had managed to work ot
a truce of some kind with at least one form of animal life. He had t
find out how. If he could get that secret-and get it back to the city-i would justify all his work and pain. It might even justify WeIPs dea~ if the age-old war could be slowed or stopped.
Jason’s tightly bound limbs hurt terribly at first, but grew numb wit the circulation shut off. The jolting ride continued endlessly; he ha no way of measuring the time. A rainfall soaked him, then he felt hi clothes steaming as the sun came out.
The ride was finally over. He was pulled from the animal’s back an dumped down. His arms dropped free as someone loosed the binding The returning circulation soaked him in pain as he lay there, strugglin to move. WThen his hands finally obeyed him, he lifted them to his fac and stripped away the covering, a sack of thick fur. Light blinded hij as he sucked in breath after breath of clean air.
Blinking against the glare, he looked around. He was lying on a flo of crude planking, the setting sun shining into his eyes through th doorless entrance of the building. There was a ploughed field outsid stretching down the curve of hill to the edge of the jungle. It was tc dark to see much inside the hut.
Something blocked the light of the doorway, a tall animal-like figure. On second look Jason realized it was a man with long hair and thick beard. He was dressed in furs; even his legs were i?~rapped in fur leggings. His eyes were fixed on his captive, while one hand fondled an axe that hung from his waist.
“Who’re you? What y’want?” the bearded man asked suddenly.
Jason picked his words slowly, wondering if this savage had the same hairtrigger temper as the city dwellers.
“My name is Jason. I come in peace. I want to be your friend… .” “Lies!” the man grunted, and pulled the axe from his belt. “Junkman tricks. I saw y’hide. Wait to kill me. Kill you first.” He tested the edge of the blade with a horny thumb, then raised it.