“I have been thinking-“ Sssuri broke into his companion’s chain of reasoning, “of what we may do. And perhaps there is a way to reach the sea more swiftly than by returning overland.”
“Downriver? But you said that way may have its watching devices.”
“Which would be centered on objects coming upstream, not down. But in this city there should be yet another way-“
He did not enlarge upon that, but since he apparently knew what he was doing, Dalgard let him play guide once more. They recrossed the sluggish river, the scout looking into its murky depths with little relish for it as a means of transportation. Though it had an oily, flowing current, there was a suggestion of stagnant water with unpleasant surprises waiting beneath its turgid surface.
For the second time they entered the arena. Avoiding the bodies, Sssuri made a circuit of the sanded floor. He did not turn in at the archway which led to the storage place, but paused before another as if there lay what he had been searching for.
Dalgard’s-less sensitive nostrils picked up a new scent, the not-to-be-missed fetor of damp underground ways where water stood. The merman edged around a barred gate as Dalgard sniffed again. The smell of damp was crossed by other and even less appetizing odors, but he did not catch the stench of the snake-devils. And, relying on Sssuri’s judgment, he followed the merman into the dark.
Once again patches of violet light glimmered over their heads as the passage narrowed and sloped downward. Dalgard tried to remember the general geography of the section which was above them now. He had assumed that this way with its dank chill must give on the river. But when they had pattered on for a long distance, he knew that either they had passed beneath the stream or that he was totally lost as to direction.
As their eyes adjusted to the gloom of the passage the violet light grew stronger. So Dalgard saw clearly when Sssuri whirled and faced back along the way they had come, his body in a half crouch, his knife ready in his hand.
Dalgard, his bow useless in the damp, drew his own sword knife. But, though his mind probed and he listened, he could sense or hear nothing on their trail.
8
AIRLIFT
THEY WERE air-borne once more, but Raf was not pleased. In the seat beside him, which Captain Hobart should be occupying, there now squirmed an alien warrior who apparently was uncomfortable in the chair like depression so different from the low stools he was accustomed to. Soriki was still in the second passenger place, but he, too, shared that with another of the men from the city who rested across bony knees a strange weapon rather like a Terran rifle.
No, the spacemen were not prisoners. According to the official statement they were allies. But, Raf wondered, as against his will he followed the globe in a northeastern course, how long would that fiction last if they refused to fall in with any suggestions the aliens might make? He did not doubt that there was on board the globe some surprise which could shoot the flitter out of the air, if, for example, he adjusted the controls before him and bore west toward the mountains and the safety of the space ship. Either of the aliens he now transported could bring him under control by using those weapons, which might do anything from boiling a man in some unknown ray to smothering him in gas. He had not seen the arms in action, and he did not want to.
Yet Hobart and Lablet did not, as far as he could tell, share his suspicions. Lablet was eager to see the mysterious storehouse, and the captain was either moved by the same desire or else had long since deduced the folly of trying to make a break for it. Thus they were now heading seaward with the captain and Lablet sharing quarters with the leaders of the expedition on board the globe, and Raf and the com-tech, with companions-or guards-bringing up the rear. The aliens had even insisted on stripping the flitter of much of its Terran equipment before they left the city, pointing out that the cleared storage space would be filled with salvage when they made the return voyage.
The globe had been trailing along the coastline, and now it angled out to glide over a long finger of cape, rocky and water worn, which pointed at almost a right angle into the sea. This dwindled into a reef of rock, like the nail on a finger. The sea ahead was no unbroken expanse. Instead there was a series of islands, some merely tops of reefs over which the waves broke, others more substantial, rising well above the threatening water, and one or two showing the green of vegetation.
The chain of islets extended so far out that when the flitter passed over the last one the main continent was out of sight. Now only water stretched beneath them. The globe skidded on as if its pilot had given it an extra burst of power, and Raf accelerated in turn, having no desire to lose his guide. But they were not to make the ocean-wide trip in one jump.
At midday he saw again a break in the smooth carpet of waves, another island, or perhaps the southern tip of a northern continent for the land swept in that direction as far as he could see. The globe spiraled down to make a neat landing on a flat plateau, and Raf prepared to join it. When the undercarriage of the flitter jarred lightly on the rock, he saw signs that this was a man- or alien-fashioned place which must have had much use in the dim past when his new companions ruled all their native world.
The rock had been smoothed off to a flat surface, and at its perimeter were several small domed buildings. Yet, as there had been in the countryside and in the city, except at its very heart, there was an aura of desertion at the site.
Both his alien passengers jumped out of the flitter, as if only too pleased at their release from the Terran flyer. For the first time Raf was shaken out of his own preoccupation with his dislike for the aliens to wonder if they could be moved by a similar distaste for Terrans. Lablet might be interested in that as a scientific problem-the pilot only knew how he felt and that was not comfortable.
Soriki got out and walked across the rock, stretching. But for a long moment Raf remained where he was, behind the controls of the flyer. He was as cramped and tired of travel as the com-tech, perhaps even more so since the responsibility of the flight had been his. And had they landed in open country he would have liked to have thrown himself down on the ground, taking off his helmet and unhooking his tunic collar to let the fresh wind blow through his hair and across his skin. Perhaps that would take away the arid dust of centuries, which, to his mind, had grimed him since their hours in the city. But here was no open country, only a landing space which reminded him too much of the roof of the building in the metropolis.
A half-dozen of the breast plated warriors filed out of the globe and went to the nearest dome, returning with heavy boxes. Fuel-supplies-Raf shrugged off the problem. The pilot was secretly relieved when Captain Hobart dropped out of the hatch in the globe and made his way over to the flitter.
“Everything running smoothly?” he asked with a glance at the two aliens who were Raf’s passengers.
“Yes, sir. Any idea how much farther-?” Raf, questioned.
Hobart shrugged. “Until we work out basic language difficulties,” he muttered, “who knows anything? There is at least one more of these way stations. They don’t run on atomics, need some kind of fuel, and they have to have new supplies every so often. Their head man can’t understand why it isn’t necessary for us to do the same.”
“Has he suggested that his techneers want a look at our motors, sir?”
Hobart unbent a little. It was as if in that question he had read something which pleased him. “So far we’ve managed not to understand that. And if anyone tries it on his own, refer him to me-understand?”
“Yes, sir!” Some of the relief in Raf’s tone came through, and he saw that the captain was watching him narrowly.
“You don’t like these people, KurbiP”
The pilot replied with the truth. “I don’t feel easy with them, sir. Not that they’ve shown any unfriendliness. Maybe it’s because they’re alien-“
He had said the wrong thing and knew it immediately.
“That sounds like prejudice, Kurbil” Hobart’s voice carried the snap of a reprimand.