Quietly, as if discussing the creature, he said, "What do you read?"

"He wants the business but he wants us to settle even more. From what I've seen this planet needs new blood. He could hope we will provide it."

By revitalizing the population with new children, the vitality of new minds, new energies. An influx gained by the promise of land, titles, the hint of given authority. An offer which held appeal and those so tempted would be reluctant to leave.

"Look around," said Dumarest. "See what you can learn. In a way you are looking at the history of a world."

One barely investigated before Cazele returned. The wine he had selected was darkly red, flecked with tiny motes of gold, the taste giving rise to thoughts of firelight and clustered shadows.

"A wine for romance," he said, lifting his glass. "In it one can see pleasant memories and the hint of joys to come. A rare vintage. If the weather is kind we shall be able to repeat it. Your health!"

Dutifully Dumarest drank the toast. As he lowered his glass he said, "Now to business. We have yet to come to an arrangement."

"We will, but after a journey it is good to rest for a while. To enjoy what a new world has to offer. Good food and wine. Pleasant company." Cazele lifted the bottle. "Enjoy your stay. Why be in so much of a hurry?"

"A matter of finance," said Dumarest. "We are mercenaries and have a contract. It would be poor business for us to break it or to arrive late. Which is why we can tolerate no unnecessary delay." Smiling he reached for the bottle. "Now let us enjoy the rest of this wine."

Dumarest stood on the field before the enigmatic cone, one hand resting on the surface, head tilted as he looked up at its height.

As Zehava joined him he said, "What do you make of this?"

"Nothing. It's a freak of some kind. Maybe a monument of sorts. It could even be old garbage. Who the hell cares? Just relax, Earl. Why make problems? We've enough as it is."

"The compliment," he agreed. "They're turning into a rabble."

"That's your opinion. They aren't toy soldiers. The Kaldari don't take orders. They won't obey unless they want to and there's no reason they should. Anyway, where's the harm? What's wrong with a little recreation?"

Days and nights spent on their concept of fun, the natives eager for the money they squandered in taverns, casinos, and houses of pleasure. The normal pastimes of those to whom the future was always in doubt. For whom old age was an abstraction. Too many days and now parties were rafting into the hills to find what sport they could.

Zehava said, "How can you blame them, Earl? They're bored. The repairs are taking too long. So they' re having some fun. Why don't we?"

An invitation he ignored. Mauger grunted as he entered the engine room. The basic work had been done, a new governor replacing the original spare, but the coils had needed more work than he had guessed and now there was a fresh problem.

"The air recyclers will have to be checked. We found one with damaged components which could have poisoned the air. Once the ionic exchanger breaks down there's a danger it can produce too much ozone or -"

"Sabotage?"

Mauger shrugged. "How to tell? Filters break down like everything else."

But not in a vessel correctly maintained. Not in a ship which dared not take the chance of malfunction. What else could he suspect? How much longer the delay?

Again the engineer shrugged. "I can't tell you that. The generator took longer than I thought and now we have to take care of this. I won't be happy until I've checked every essential component. It'll take time but it's better to be sure. Anyway, this seems a comfortable world."

Too comfortable, at least for the visitors, Dumarest wasn't so sure about the natives. Yet they seemed amiable enough if a little odd. Too detached, too prone to lose attention, sometimes seeming to shrink in abject terror and, at others, to be riding an euphoric high. All giving the impression of holding a common secret, one they were determined not to share.

Nadine was no help.

"I can't read them, Earl," she confessed. "I don't know their language. What would normally signal fear and terror comes out as joy and anticipation. There are places I can't enter. Closed houses. There are trips out to the hills in sealed rafts."

"Hunters?"

"I'm not sure. They could be but where are the trophies? The skins and tails and heads. Cazele has things like that in his office. You'd expect to find them on sale." Pausing she added, "Land has been offered to some of the compliment. Land, servants, and titles if they will stay. Women, too, a lot of women. To revitalize the population, I suppose. Only the men have so far been approached."

"Do any show interest?"

"Some of them. They talk of setting up here. Of turning this world into an extension of Kaldar. They will rule and the natives will do the work." She shook her head, smiling. "It's just talk, Earl. A dream. When the ship's ready to leave they'll forget it."

Something he doubted. Cazele was offering a golden bribe and the promise was too enticing, the temptation too great. All they had ever hoped to attain delivered on a plate. The expedition would be abandoned. The ship retained to take the news back to Kaldar. He would be forgotten or conveniently disposed of.

Thoughts which sent him to pace the empty salon.

"Earl?"

"Go to Cazele," he said. "Apply pressure. I want everything we need delivered without delay. Hint that we could come to an agreement if he wants some of us to settle."

"You'd give them permission to stay?"

"Can I prevent them?" His smile was that of a man accepting the inevitable. "Just do your best to persuade him. Take your time and find out what you can. From him and any others of the Cabal." He added, "Make the most of what will happen at dusk."

Zehava was in town, seated at a table with others, throwing dice for wine. She rose as she saw Dumarest.

"Earl, what a pleasant surprise. Say you missed me and decided to have some fun." Abruptly she changed the subject. "Zoll tells me the repairs aren't coming as well as they should. Something about delays. Wasn't Nadine supposed to be taking care of that?"

"She is."

"Good." Her hand rose to touch his cheek, the fingers trailing in a caress. "You're worried, darling. Worried and tired. You're trying to carry everything on your back. Let others do some of the work." Her hand moved, slipped within his arm, her body moving to press against his own. "Let's see what this place has to offer."

They found a tavern which offered food and drink and women who danced in erotic postures to the beat of drums. A passage led to an underground lake where they swam among fish with crimson scales and eyes of pearl. Strands of silver weed embraced them and strange blooms of living petals emulated the seasons as they watched.

As dusk neared Dumarest led the way outside to where rafts drifted from the hills to settle on roofs and clear spaces. Wealthy landowners, he guessed, returning from their holdings to the comfort and security of their towers. An evening ritual.

Zehava ignored them. "Where next, Earl?"

"Wait." He looked at the sky, the peak of a distant promontory. "We're about to see a show."

One which blazed into life without warning. Fire streamed from a scintillating point in savage brightness. A glare which created thunder. A blast which shook the air and rattled windows and caused dust to rise from houses and streets. Twice more missiles hurtled from the ship to repeat the display of the first, the last leaving an ugly patch of widening darkness. Soot which rose to form a new cloud in the sky. Badwasi had done well.

His work created chaos.

Zehava winced as a shrieking woman ran past her down the narrow street, eyes wild, hands tearing at her hair. A man, hysterical with fear, followed her, others joining in to form a sudden flood of demented humanity. One which vanished as quickly as it had appeared, bodies diving through every opening, doors closing, shutters slamming across windows. Almost at once the town was deserted.