The Quillian Sector

"It's over." Dumarest could appreciate the man's anger. "It's all in the past now, Captain."

"Yes." Egulus looked at his hands and eased their pressure. "Yes, Earl, but the woman is still with us. She still could be a source of trouble. You and Bochner-if she favors him, will you let her go?"

"I don't own her."

"Maybe she wishes you did. Maybe she'd want you to fight over her. You and Bochner like a couple of rutting dogs, with her watching and willing to mate with the one who wins." Egulus ended bitterly, "You and Bochner-I don't count."

Dumarest said quietly, "You're wrong, Yarn. You and she have more in common than you think. You belong to the same world. Before Jumoke-were you close?"

"Yes."

"And she left you for the navigator?"

"She's her own master, Earl. You know how it is in space. We have our own customs and a captain has to respect them. And we were all partners, don't forget. Each of us technically equal to the other-hell, why waste time talking about it!"

"Check the radio," said Dumarest. "See if there are any further signals."

He added more fuel to the fire as the captain obeyed, damp leaves, mosses and green twigs which thickened the column of smoke into a brown-gray pillar against the sky. Turning, he stared toward the distant range of mountains. They were too far for him to make out other than general detail, but there could be mines and men working them and passes leading to farms beyond. Even a lone prospector, sending in a report, could have accounted for the signals.

An hour later they spotted the raft.

Chapter Twelve

Dilys watched as it came towards them, conscious of a tremendous relief. Soon, now, she would be on her way to houses and people. To the field and ships and the warm comfort and security of familiar things.

"They've come!" Her voice carried gladness. "They've come to rescue us!"

Egulus said, "They must have picked up our signals and come to investigate."

He was more cautious than the girl, and with reason. Investigation did not assume rescue; that implied payment and they had little to offer. A caution Dumarest shared.

"Spread out," he said. "Bochner, you take the left and I'll take the right. If they move against us, don't hesitate to act."

Orders which, for once, the hunter didn't object to obeying. He took up his position, looking at the advancing raft, head tilted, eyes narrowed.

"Small," he commented. "It could belong to a lone prospector or hunter."

"It's seen us," said Dilys. "It's heading directly toward the smoke."

Words spoken for reassurance-it had been obvious from the first that the raft was making for the peak on which they stood. Dumarest watched as it lowered its line of flight. Small, as Bochner had said, a hollow shell fitted with controls at one end, a rail around the body which would hold a padded seat. If there was a protective canopy, it was folded back. The body holding the antigrav units was equipped with landing skids, and the sound of the engine powering the units was a soft humming purr.

It would be holding one man at least, the driver. Then, as he caught a blur of movement, Dumarest revised his figures. Two men, including the driver. The head he had seen toward the rear of the craft could not have belonged to the man at the controls.

"Two men." Bochner had also spotted the movement. "Either that's all there are or the rest are lying low. In which case, we could have a problem."

"Earl?" Dilys had heard and looked questioningly at Dumarest. "What does he mean?"

"Nothing. Just wave and call out."

To act the person in distress and to reveal the fact that she was a woman. Bait, if those who could be lurking inside the raft were scavengers; men who would kill for the sake of what they could steal. A good reason for landing if those within the vehicle were not the honest rescuers she thought.

The craft dropped lower, slowed, passed over them to swing in a wide circle over the sea before returning to settle gently on the edge of the summit.

Two men only, one at the controls, the other sitting in the body of the raft. A tall man, wearing dull fabrics and a peaked cap. One Bochner recognized. Caradoc, in disguise.

Oddly, he wasn't surprised.

The cyber glanced at him, then at the others. "Trouble?"

"Yes." Dumarest stepped toward the raft. "Our ship crashed and we're lucky to be alive. Can you take us to safety?"

"Of course." The smooth, even modulation held no hesitation. "Are there others besides yourselves?"

"No." Dumarest glanced at the man seated at the controls. Young, his face devoid of expression, hands resting on his knees. They were slim, with delicate fingers, the nails neatly rounded. He wore a loose robe of coarse brown material, the sleeves wide, the garment held by a cincture at the waist. "How did you know we were here? Did you pick up our signal?"

"Yes," said Caradoc.

"So we were lucky. A gamble which paid off." Dumarest added casually, "Did you have to travel far?"

"Twelve hours."