The Brethren! Nik’s mind was wholly freed of the mist of fantasy now. Stowar could well have contacts with the Brethren – the space-borne section of the Thieves’ Guild who sought their prey on loosely held frontier worlds. That meant this deal could be very big. Though Stowar might head the lawless element in the Dipple, to the Guild itself he was a small operator to whom the real Veeps threw the small crumbs.
“Commendable comment. But our friend here is right on one point. This is no time to come in for a two-fin landing, Bouvay.”
A third man down there! Nik tried to pick out his shadow, but he must be standing, out of sight, in the crack between the crate on which Nik himself perched and its fellow.
Stowar had been easy for Nik to identify because, seemingly indifferent to Nik’s disfigurement, he had, from time to time, given the boy small tasks, Nik’s only means of earning a credit or two to finance the purchase of new tapes.
“All right. But a third run with Morgan will be suspicious – maybe make real trouble.”
“We are duly warned,” agreed the unknown in the crack. “You say we have five more days?”
“Five more days for this course. Then you wait three planet months before you can try again.”
“So be it. Well just have to wait it out.”
“But.” Stowar began an instant protest.
“Five days – to find our man, to set up the whole plan? It can’t be done. I’ve tried some so-called impossible things in my time, orbited in on one or two of them, too. But short of going into stass and taking all of Korwar with us, we’re going to have to pass on this run and wait out those three months.”
“And in the meantime” – Stowar’s voice soared.”we can see i’Inad made some change to spoil everything. I say – much better make it a straight snatch.”
“Which is completely impossible,” came a chill retort. “They have the ultimate in security. The pattern can’t be broken by us except by the setup Heriharz has worked out. You yourself were urging caution just a moment ago, friend.”
“Caution, reasonable caution, certainly. But every delay gives i’Inad a chance to counter us.”
There was a soft laugh from the dark alley. “Seems an impasse, doesn’t it? But I have faith in the stars, Stowar. We’ll either turn up our key or.”
“Or have to write it all off. Some tricks you can’t pull ever. This is a dead rocket if I ever saw one.”
“Your commander doesn’t agree with you, Bouvay, but it’s your privilege to cry off if you want.”
Only a mutter replied to that. Nik tensed. That voice out of the dark carried a note of confidence rarely heard here. The diction was smooth, the tone authoritative. This was no Dipple dweller. Everyone knew that the Guild had their undercover men in the Planet Guard, among the port authorities, with the spacer crews. This man could well be one of them.
“Three months.” That was Stowar, but this time there was a resigned note in his voice. “And at the end of three months – if we have not found the right man?”
“Then we make some other decision. But FC says we will.” Some one of his listeners snorted. “Then why’n green blazes don’t that tame machine tell us where to find him? Maybe he ain’t on Korwar. Ever think of that?”
“The probabilities, according to FC, are that he is. Look about you, man – what’s in a Dipple?”
“A bunch of dim beats as has had it!” returned Bouvay promptly.
“According to your estimation, yes. But on the other hand, right between these walls we have a big cross section of galactic races and types. When they swept up refugees and deportees and dropped them down here, there wasn’t any sorting. We have inhabitants from forty worlds, survivors of ship disasters, a mixture such as you won’t find anyplace else.”
“Except in another Dipple,” cut in Stowar. “Just so. And where is the nearest other Dipple? On Kali, a good six-month flight from here. How long have we been sifting the stock right in front of us? About one month. FC says the probabilities are he is here; we just have to find him. And because you haven’t turned up the proper combination yet, Stowar, is no reason that such a person does not exist.”
“I know.” The Dipple man sounded more confident. “You’re right. If there’s such a man, we ought to have him here. There’s a mix as will turn up about anything. The only thing they’ve in common is that they all look human.”
“That’s the only factor he has to have,” commented the unknown. “Our man has to register human or he can’t get by the spy line. So, we practice patience and.”
Nik was startled. The speaker had stopped, almost in mid word. All Nik caught thereafter was a sharp hiss. The shadows that were Stowar and Bouvay had frozen. Nik listened. His mouth was dry, his heart beginning to sharpen its beat. Somehow he could sense a wariness, an alerting. Had they discovered him? But how could they – ?
He cried out, tried to jerk free, kicking out with one foot, but the hold on his right ankle remained firm. It was as if his whole right leg was glued to the top of the crate. Then the power in the left suddenly failed. That leg lay beside the right, both now immovable. Thoroughly frightened, Nik tried to lever his half – dead body up by using his arms, only to have them fail him in turn. He was pinned to the surface under him as if he had never had any power to move.
Then he did move, but not by his own will. Stiff in his invisible bonds, his whole body rose from the crate and slid out over the open space where the men he had spied upon stood waiting for him. Shaking with a fear he could only control to the point of not screaming his terror aloud, Nik sank down, helpless to defend himself against any action they chose to take.
“Stack rat!”
Nik was still descending when that fist snapped out of the general gloom and connected against his cheekbone with force enough to scramble his senses. He was aware dazedly of another blow. And then there was only darkness until light beat into him, and he tried to raise his hands to shield his eyes, blinded by the full glare of a torch.
” – you’re away off orbit.”
“I don’t think so. Look, man; just use your eyes for once!”
A painful grip on Nik’s hair jerked his head closer to the light. He closed his eyes.
“Who is he, Stowar?”
“Just what Bouvay called him – a stack rat. Gives most of the people horrors, so he keeps out of sight.”
“Sure – look at his face! Enough to turn your insides straight out of you! What do you mean about his being any good to us? Give him a blast and let it go at that. Put him outta his misery. He can’t enjoy life lookin’ like that.”
“His face.” The voice from behind the torch sounded speculative. “That doesn’t matter too much. What is important is that he’s about the right size and age – or looks it anyway. It’s just possible we have what we want. If he goes, there’ll be no one to ask questions – he won’t be missed.”
“I don’t believe you can use him!” Bouvay was emphatic.
“You don’t have to. But I believe in luck, Bouvay, and it may be that Lady Luck is pushing comets across the board to us right now! Gyna can do wonders with raw material.”
“Anyway, we’ll have to do something with him.” That was Stowar once more. “Stow him in the box there, and I’ll send a couple of the boys to take him to my place. How long does this tie of yours last?”
“Not much longer, unless I want to burn out the unit.”
“Fair enough. I’ll just take care of that problem.”
The last words Nik heard were those from Bouvay. For the second time he was struck and sagged back into the dark from which the torchlight had momentarily dragged him.
He was lying on a hard surface – the blanket must have been dragged from under him on the crate. And this was the first time he had come out of a dream with a badly aching head. Dream? But this had not been one of his visits to his secret world at all! Nik found thinking a shaky process, and the feeling of nausea, which, oddly enough, seemed located more in his painful head than his middle, swooped down into the proper section of his anatomy as he tried to move.