A Ventur without a robe was seated on the pad watching the scene intently. He gave them only a casual gesture of greeting before the dock began to recede and the whole shore line whipped to the right as the ship turned. The voyage to Po’ult had begun.
13 — Life or Death Trade
Po’ult rose out of the sea abruptly—the toothed rock walls of the island’s rim lifting vertically from the sea without any softening fringe of beach. And on the crest of those walls were no signs of buildings.
Having afforded its passengers a single good look at the island the ship submerged until even the conning tower was under water. The Terrans were led down close to the keel, to wedge themselves into a smaller craft with two of the Venturi. Vibration sang in the walls of that tiny boat but there was no other indication that they had left the parent vessel.
Kana tensed. The sensation of being confined far below the surface of the sea oppressed him. But their voyage did not last long and when the hatch was raised they were in an underground port, a large-scale copy of the subcellar landing place back on the continent.
They saw but little of the Venturi city, being taken along passages chiseled through the native rock to a room near the top of the cliff, one side of which was transparent. Their guide withdrew and Kana went over to that window, craving the feeling of freedom it gave.
“Volcano crater,” Hansu observed.
The center of the island was a cup, its walls terraced and planted, a grove of trees extending into a miniature woodland in the depth of the hollow. But there were no signs of buildings.
“But where—”
The Blademaster looked beyond the peaceful carpet of vegetation to the crater walls.
“We’re in their city now,” he explained. “They’ve hollowed out the cliffs—”
In a moment Kana saw the evidences of that—the regular openings in the rock which must equal such windows as the one before which he now stood.
“What a scheme!” he marveled. “Even a bomber would have a hard time putting this out of commission—unless it dropped hot stuff—”
At the corner of the Blademaster’s jaw a tiny muscle pulled tight.
“When the law is broken once, it can be easily fractured again.”
“Use hot stuff?” Kana’s horrified amazement was genuine. He could accept the enmity of the Mechs, even the struggle for power backed in some mysterious way by Central Control Agents, but the thought of turning to nuclear weapons against—! Terra had learned too bitter a lesson in the Big Blow-up and the wars which followed. Those had occurred a thousand years ago but they had scarred the memories of his species for all time. He could not conceive of a Terran using nukes—it was so unnatural that it made his head reel.
“We’ve had evidence enough that this is not just a Mech plot,” Hansu pointed out relentlessly. “We may be conditioned against hot stuff because of our past history—but others aren’t. And we daren’t overlook any possibility—”
That was an axiom of the corps he should have remembered. Never overlook any possibility, be prepared for any change in prospects—in the balance of force against force.
“War Lord”—one of the frog people had come up silently behind them—“the Masters would speak with you.”
No hospitality had been offered them before that meeting, Kana noted, disturbed, no gesture made which could be termed friendly. He fell a step behind the Blademaster and stood at attention as they entered a room where four Venturi, their robes laid aside, awaited them.
The soft fabric of their short tunics was a somber blue-purple and there were gems set in their belts and in the broad bracelets they wore encircling all four upper limbs. At some distance squatted a fifth, writing pen in one hand and a block of the mirror stuff on the floor before him.
A single seat pad was placed facing the court and Hansu took his seat there, Kana standing behind him.
“We have been informed of what you wish.” The Ventur whose tunic boasted a symbol stitched upon its breast opened the meeting without ceremony. “You wish a place of refuge for your men until you can make contact with your superiors off-world. Why should we be interested in what happens to interlopers, introduced on Fronn through no fault of ours? And since you are now being hunted by the Llor and these new allies of theirs, it might mean that in giving you sanctuary we would bring upon us the wrath of those at Tharc.”
“Does not a state of war already exist between you and Tharc?” countered Hansu. “When we crossed the mountains we were met by a party of Llor driven off from an attack on the Landing. From them we rescued one of your men.”
The frog-man’s broad face displayed no emotion the Terrans could read.
“The Venturi do not war, they trade. And when it is not time to trade, when the world is disturbed, we withdraw until the mainland is sane again. So has it been in the past and that system has always worked to our advantage.”
“But before did the Llor ever ally with those who could bring war through the air? Perhaps Po’ult cannot be captured from the sea—but what if you are attacked from above, Master of Many Ships?”
“You have no machine which can ride the wind, are these others then more powerful than you?”
“They are ones who have been trained in a different mode of making war. And it is against our custom for them to use that warfare upon such a world as Fronn. With the weapons they have they can make themselves master of this whole planet if they wish. Do you think that your withdrawal will avail you if that is their plan? One by one they shall search out your island strongholds and rain destruction upon you from the air. They may even bring to subdue you the burning death—which is a weapon forbidden to all living creatures—a weapon so terrible that its use once wrecked my own world and sent my race back to barbarism for centuries. For”—Hansu repeated the warning he had voiced to Kana earlier—“when the law is once broken, it is easily fractured again. These renegades have broken our law by coming to Fronn, and from that they may go on to worse things—”
“If you do not fight as do these others, then why or how could you be of service to us?”
“Just this—” Hansu held himself stiffly erect, braced as if facing an enemy charge. “The news of what has occurred here must be carried to our first rank Masters. Only they have the power to deal with these outlaws. And that message must be carried by one to whom they will listen. Give my men refuge and I, myself, will take the message off-world. And I promise you that when I am heard by our inner Council there shall be a reckoning and Fronn shall be cleansed. So that here off-world men shall be forbidden to land—as has happened on other planets—and you shall be left to manage your affairs as you wish. Do you not know that there are those who do not wish to see the trade of Fronn only Venturi trade? They would help the Llor to break you as they would a rotten stick for a night campfire—for the Llor are ignorant of the mysteries of your craft and those from off-world would speedily take it all into their own hands—to hold forever! You have never welcomed the alien traders and they would be free of your restrictions.”
Was the Blademaster making an impression? Kana could not tell. And his hopes sank when the spokesman of the Masters answered:
“You say much which we must consider in council. Be thou becalmed in our waters this night—”
That last had the flavor of some formula of hospitality. And the Terrans discovered that it meant escort to a room overlooking the valley where two of the treasured smoke braziers filled the air with spicy scent. One of the Masters came in, followed by a lesser trader bearing a tray on which were set out three cups and a ewer. The Master poured out a small measure of the same liquid Kana had been given in the hidden room, and proffered the cups to the Combatants with his own hands. Again Kana sipped the icy stuff and felt it seep through him, bringing once more the heightened senses, the alertness of mind and body. The ceremonial drink was borne away and small tables set up on which were laid a series of dishes, none containing more than a mouthful or so of that particular viand.
“These foods have been exported off-world,” the Master assured them. “They can be safely eaten by those of your species.”