"Sniffers!"
Eet's warning halted me. There was enough light and noise behind us to inform the natives that those of the ship's camp were hunting.
"Where?" Perhaps Hory was now willing to depend upon Eet's senses, if not to accept his advice.
"Left—in the tree."
That was not as tall as the forest giants, but it did tower well above us. And its foliage made so impenetrable a cone of dark that no eyes of ours could sight what might hide there.
"He waits to leap as we pass beneath," Eet informed us. "Swing well away; he will leap but fall short."
This time we were not unarmed. Hory had one of the X-Tee's lasers, I another. To spray about without a definite target, however, would be folly. I held the weapon at ready and started around the tree.
It was like a blow in my face, striking deep into my head, then seeming to center in my ears. I staggered under it and heard Hory cry out in equal torment.
Eet twisted on my shoulders, thrust in his claws to keep his position. I forgot all about any menace from the natives; all I wanted was to be rid of the agony in my head.
"—hand—take Hory's hand—hold—"
Eet's mind voice was almost muffled by the pain in my head. His hand-paws had gone to my ears, gripping them, and I could feel his body resting against my head, an addition to my misery.
"Take Hory's hand!" The command was emphasized by a sharp twist of my ears. I tried to lift my hand to pull that tormentor from my shoulders, but found that, instead of obeying me, my flesh and muscle were flung around, and my fingers seemed to close of their own accord on warm skin and bone, in a grip riveted past my breaking. The Patrolman, moaning, tried to break away from me, to no effect.
"Now—on!" Again Eet twisted my ears. Dazed from the pain in my head, I stumbled in the direction he aimed me, towing Hory behind.
There was a shrilling from the tree, and something dark fell, not leaped, from it, to lie writhing on the ground. We dimly heard other sounds, a rustling of movement throughout the brush. Things hiding there were now moving past us toward the cliffs.
Only Eet's sharp hold and constant misuse of my ears kept me going. For, as I moved, it was as if I waded through a swift current determined to bear me back toward the ruins and the Guild ship, which I had to fight with all my strength.
It was dark here, but Eet rode me as a man might mount a beast of burden, guiding me by his hold, steering me here and there. And I could only obey those tugs, always drawing Hory along by a grip I could not release.
For years, or so it seemed, that zigzag march lasted. Then I smelled charred vegetation and we came to where the growth was shriveled by rocket blast, or burned off altogether. Before us, standing on its fins, was the Patrol scout ship.
Only a dark bulk—I could not make out a ramp, or any dark hatch open on its side. And I remembered Hory's talk of a time seal. If he could not lift that at will, we had reached our goal but were still barred from safety.
The pull on me, the pain in my head, still existed, but either its force had lessened, or I was now so accustomed to it that the agony had decreased. Eet still kept his grip on my ears, but when I paused before the ship he did not urge me on.
Instead he turned his attention to Hory, though my brain, too, received his imperative command:
"Hory, the time seal—can you denegate it?"
The Patrolman swayed back and forth, tugging feebly against my grip, trying to turn toward the ruins.
"Hory!" This time Eet's demand for attention was as painful to the receptive mind as the torment from behind.
"What—" Not quite a word, more nearly a moan. With his free hand the Patrolman pawed at his head. The laser was gone; he must have dropped it at the attack.
"The seal—on—the—ship—" Eet's words were heavy in impact, like the ancient solid-type projectiles when they struck into flesh. "Deactivate the seal—now—"
Hory turned his head. I could see him only dimly. With his free hand he fumbled at the front of his tunic. All his movements seemed so uncoordinated that one could not believe he could complete any action. He brought out a hand com.
"Code!" Eet kept at him relentlessly. "What—is—the—code?"
As if he could not even be sure of the position of his mouth, Hory raised his hand in a series of jerks. He mumbled. I could understand none of the sounds clearly. And whether, in spite of his clouded mind, he was responding to Eet's order, I had no idea. His arm dropped heavily, to swing by his side. It seemed he had failed.
Then there was a noise from the ship. The hatch opened and the tongue of a narrow landing ramp licked forth, to touch the seared earth only feet away.
"In!" Eet's order rang almost as shrill as one of the sniffers' screams.
I dragged Hory along. The ramp was very narrow and steep, and I had to negotiate it sideways in order to tow the Patrolman. But step by step we climbed the span to enter the hatch.
It was like walking into a soundproofed chamber and slamming the door behind us. Instantly the tumult in my head ended. I leaned against the wall of the compartment just within the hatch, feeling the drip of my own sweat from my chin. My relief was so great it left me weak and shaking.
By the glow of the light which came on as the hatch closed behind us, I could see that Hory was in no better state. His face was greenish-white under the space tan and slick with sweat. He had bitten his lip and drops of blood still gathered there in bubbles, to feed a thin trickle down his chin.
"They—had—a compeller—on us—" He got out each word as if to form it with his savaged lips was a fearsome task. "They—"
Eet had released his hold on my ears and had dropped down to my shoulders once again.
"Better get off planet." If the compeller had affected the mutant, he did not show it. And now it was far easier to follow his suggestion than to undertake any action on my own.
I think Hory was in much the same state. He lurched away from the wall and drew himself through the inner hatch. As we followed I heard the clang of the rewinding ramp, the automatic sealing of the door behind us. Again I felt a wave of relief.
To get at us now they would have to use a superdestruct. And the Guild ship, as well equipped as it might be, could not carry one of those—it was not large enough.
Hory took the lead, pulling up the core ladder of the ship. Then Eet climbed with a speed which left both of us behind. We passed by two levels to enter the control cabin. The Patrolman reached the pilot's swing chair and began to buckle himself in. He moved as one in a dream, and I do not think he was really aware of my presence, though he must have been of Eet's.
Patrol scouts are not meant to carry more than one man. But in emergencies there might be exceptions, and there was a second blast-off seat in the rear of the cabin. I got into that and was making fast the straps when Hory leaned forward to press the course tape release. Eet sprang from somewhere and lay full length along my body.
There was an awakening of lights on the board, a vibration through the ship. Then came the pressure of blast-off. I had known that of the Free Traders and small freighters, which had seemed so much worse than that of liners. But this was a huge hand squeezing me down into darkness.
When I saw dizzily again, the lights on the board no longer played in flashing patterns but were set and steady. Hory lay in his seat, his head forward on his chest. Eet stirred against me. Then his head arose slowly and his beads of eyes met mine.
"We are out—"
"He set a course tape," I said. "To the nearest Patrol mother ship or base, I suppose."
"If he can reach it," Eet observed. "We may have bought time only."
"What do you mean?"
"Just that Nactitl cannot afford to lose us. The Guild are playing for the largest stakes they have yet found—for many of your human centuries. They will not allow the fate of a single Patrol scout to upset their plans."
"They cannot mount a destruct—not on their ship."
"But they may have other devices, just as useful to them. Also, do you yourself want to be delivered to a Patrol base?"
"What do you mean?" I glanced at Hory. If he was conscious he must be able to "hear" Eet's communications.
"He still sleeps," the mutant reassured me. "But we may not have much time, and I do not know how much an unconscious brain can pick up to retain for the future. This is true—what Nactitl seeks he has not yet found. There are only the stones in the storage vault. But they were not mined on that planet, as Nactitl and the Patrol may continue to believe."
"How do you know that? What about those cliff tunnels?"
"They sought something else there, those old ones. No, the cache under the ruins held their fuel supply. But Nactitl will believe they found them in the mines, and so will others. However, the man who does eventually find the true source of the stones can make his own luck, if he is clever and discreet. Also—those stones looked dead, did they not?"
"Very dead."
"Your ring stone partly activated them. Just as it can give a boost to any conventional fuel in these ships of yours. You have a bargaining point, but you must use it well. There will be those who would kill you for that ring. And you have more to fear than just the Guild." His head swiveled around on that exceedingly mobile neck and he looked meaningfully at the Patrolman.
"To stand against the Patrol would require more resources than I have," I answered. The illegality of it did not bother me. The ring was my heritage, and the fact that some musty law made by men I had never seen or heard of might be produced to wrest it from me only raised my anger. I added, "But I will fight for what I now hold."
"Just so." There was satisfaction in Eet's agreement. "You can seem to yield and yet win."
"Win what? A fortune—with everyone sniping at me to get at the secret and tear me down? I want none of that."
Perhaps Hywel Jern, who could have had wealth and yet had settled prudently for comfort, and might have finished out his life in peace had he not been a curious man, had molded me. Or perhaps the need to be free which had kept Vondar Ustle on the move had rubbed off on his assistant.
"You can buy freedom." Eet's thought followed mine easily. "What have you now with Vondar dead? Nothing. Bargain well, as he taught you, when the time comes. You will know what you want most in that hour."
"What you want," I countered.
Now his head turned so that he could eye me. "What I want—just so. But our trails run together. I have told you that before. Apart we are weak, together we are strong, a combination to accomplish much if you have the courage—"
"Eet—what are you?"
"A living being," he replied, "with certain gifts which I have placed at your disposal from time to time, and certainly not to your disadvantage." Again he read my thoughts and added, "Of course, I have used you, but also you have used me. You would have been dead long since had we not. And to your species, death of the body is an end—do you not believe it so?"
"Not all of us do."
"That is as it may be," he replied ambiguously. "But at any rate, we are together in this life and it is to our mutual advantage to have this pact continue."
I could not deny his logic, though still the suspicion stayed deep in my mind that Eet had plans of his own and would eventually maneuver me into serving them.
"He is waking." Eet looked at Hory. "Tell him to check his speed."
I was no pilot. But I could see there was a red light flashing on the board. That had about it a suggestion of alarm. Hory made a snorting sound and straightened in his web seat, setting it to swinging. He rubbed his hands across his eyes and then leaned forward to look at the board, his attitude that of one alerted to trouble.
"Eet says—look to the speed—" I said.
His hand shot out to thumb a red button under that red flash. The red spark vanished, a yellow one flashed in its place, held steady for a short space, then became red again. Once more Hory tried the button. But this time there was no change in the light. His fingers played a swift pattern over other buttons and levers, but the signal remained stubbornly red.
"What is the matter?" I asked.
"Traction beam." Hory spit out that explanation as if it were a curse. "They have lifted behind us and slapped a traction on. But a ship of that size, how could they be so equipped?" Still he continued to try his keys. Once the light paled, but only momentarily.
"They can pull us back?"
"They are trying. But they cannot down us—not yet. They can only keep us out of hyper. And they may think they can board—if so they are going to be surprised. But they can keep us tied near that planet."
"Waiting for reinforcements? Why cannot you do the same—call for help?"
"They have a com blanket over us. If they expect reinforcements they were already sure of their coming. I have heard of Guild superships; this must be one of them."
"What do we do then—just wait—?"
"Not if we are wise," Eet cut in. "They do expect aid and it will be of such nature as to take this ship easily. What you stumbled on here, Hory, is a Guild operation of such magnitude that they are willing to throw many of their undercover reserves in—or did you arrive here with a suspicion that that was so?"
"I suppose you have a suggestion?" Hory asked bitingly. "I can maintain my shield but not break their hold—to do that is to lose my own escape force. They could reel us in before I could fire effectively."
Eet did have an answer. "The ring stone, Murdoc—"
"How?" I had felt the action of the ring on my own body, its drawing power across the wastes of space, and on the planet below. But in what way could it be used on this ship to break a traction beam which held so powerful a vessel in bonds?
"Take it down, to the engine room," Eet ordered.
His knowledge was certainly greater than mine, and I continued to wonder where he had gained it. Reading minds seemed easy enough for him, but how he knew uses for the baffling gem I could not understand. Was it all part of Eet's mysterious past, before he had, as he put it, obtained a body to serve him in the present? Was—could Eet have a link with those who had once used the stones for motive power? How long had Eet been a seed, or stone, or that thing Valcyr had swallowed?
Even as I speculated, I was unbuckling, preparing to leave my seat. I had learned my confidence well; if Eet thought there was a chance the ring might save us, I was willing to try it.
"What will you do?" Hory asked sharply.
Eet answered. "Try to augment your power, Patrolman. We are not sure, we can only try."
It was thoughtful of him to say "we," since, as always, I was merely the one to carry out plans hatched in that narrow head of his.
We descended the ladder to the lowest level and made our way to the reactor room. Eet made the same questing movements of nose and head as he had used to steer us through the forest. Then with a quick stretch of his neck, he pointed his nose at a sealed box.
"There, but you must make it fast. Use a weld torch—"
With the air of one humoring madmen, Hory opened a small compartment on the wall and took out the tool Eet had asked for. I brought out the ring slowly. In spite of Eet's suggestion that we needed its aid, I could not be sure of that. And I had the greatest reluctance to release it to Hory. I had come to trust no one in relation to the stone, which had already left a trail of blood, and blood belonging to those who meant the most to me, across several solar systems.
For a moment I thought Eet was wrong. The stone displayed no signs of life; it was as dead as it had been the first time I saw it. Very much against my will I laid it on top of the box as Eet had ordered.
Then slowly, almost protestingly, it did show life. It did not blaze as it had in space, or even as it had in the underground room, when it had rested near its fellows, bringing them in turn to a glow. That blaze had been blue-white; this was duller, yellow. Hory stared at it, his astonishment so great that he made no attempt to use the welder.
"Affix it—quick!" Eet cried. His whip of tail lashed back and forth on my back as if he would so beat me to the task. I reached for the welder, but Hory roused and touched its tip to the ring metal against the box, joining them firmly.
"Look—" But Eet was not to finish that warning. Hory struck out with a follow through of the weld rod. By the good grace of whatever power might rule space, the lighted end of that improvised weapon did not hit Eet. But the rod swept him from my shoulder and hurled him to the floor with such force that he lay limp and unmoving.
I was so astounded by the attack that I wasted a precious moment in sheer amazement. When I started for Hory, that rod swept up again so that the glowing point menaced my eyes. There was such determination to be read on his face I did not doubt he meant to use it were I to jump him.
So I retreated as he advanced, unable to reach for Eet, for Hory thrust at me when I attempted that. Since the compartment in which we stood was small, my back was swiftly at the wall.
"Why?" I asked. He had me spread there, my hands at shoulder height, palms empty and out, the glowing point of the rod weaving a pattern of threat directly before my eyes.
Hory, the rod in one hand, searched in the front of his tunic. What he produced was a more refined example of the tangler the Guild men had used on him. It flicked out from the tube, not to weave my whole body into a helpless cocoon, but to loop about my wrists, bringing them tightly together.
"Why?" he echoed. "Because I now know who you are. You gave yourself away, or that beast of yours did, when he had you bring out the ring. What happened back there? Could you not agree on the Guild's terms? We have been tracing you for months, Murdoc Jern."
"Why? I am no Guildman—"
"Then you are playing a lone hand, which is enough to label you fool. Or do you reckon your beast high enough to support you? You are rather useless without him, are you not?" Hory kicked out and Eet rolled over. I tried desperately to reach him through mind touch, but met nothing. Once before I had believed him dead; now the evidence of my eyes assured me that was true.
"You accuse me of playing some game." I strove to control my rage; anger can betray a man into foolish error. Perhaps I had not learned the proper submergence of emotions my father had believed necessary to make the superior man, but I had had excellent tutoring and put that to the test now. "What do you mean?"
"You are Murdoc Jern and your father was a notorious Guildman." Hory used the blazing rod as if I were a child and he were an instructor about to indicate some pertinent point on a wall projection from a reading tape. "If you are not a full member of the Guild, you have access to his connections. Your father was killed for information he had, probably about"—with the rod Hory indicated the ring—"that. You were on Angkor when it happened. Then you shipped out, having broken with your family. You were on Tanth when your master Vondar Ustle was killed under circumstances which suggest his death had been arranged. What caused that, Jern? Did he discover what you were carrying and plan to inform the authorities? Whatever happened, matters did not go as you expected, did they? You did not walk out free with your master's private gem stock to back you. But you did get off world—
"The ship you lifted in is suspect as a part-time Guild transport. They dropped you here, didn't they? And later you fell out with your bosses. You ought to have known you could not stand up to the Guild. Or did you believe that with that beast of yours you could do it? We will get the truth out of you with a reader-helm—"
"When and if you get me to a Patrol base!"
"Oh, I think that now there will be no chance of your escaping. You, yourself, obligingly arranged that. But I am forgetting, you are not shipwise, are you? You do not have the 'feel.' We have broken free of the traction and are back on course. Now—" Still facing me with the ready rod, Hory stooped and picked up Eet, a long string of furred body, by the hind legs. "This goes into cold storage. The lab will want to see it. And you shall go into another kind of storage, until you are needed."
He drove me with his heated rod out of the engine compartment, toward the ladder which led to the upper levels. I backed slowly, trying to see any small chance which might work for me. But even though I might be reckless enough to charge him, he need only with pressure of one finger bring that rod to top heat and lay it across my face to discipline me into obedience.
Eet swung, a pitiful pendulum, from Hory's hand. I looked at his body and my hate was no longer hot but cold, clear and deadly in me. And because I did look at Eet at that moment I saw my chance. For Eet came to life, twisting up and around to bury needle-sharp teeth in the hand which held him. And as Hory yelled in pain and surprise I charged.