"Polarization of attitudes. Some want to wait others to act. Most of them lost friends on Fionnula. If they'd had quick action things would be different. They've had too much time to sit and brood."

Niall looked up, nodding a greeting as Dumarest entered his domain. A litter of charts lay on the desk before him together with a scatter of books, and navigational data. A computer screen was blank.

"Another student after knowledge? If you want to know just where we are ask Zehava. For some reason she's become interested in navigation. That and communications or maybe she and Schell have a special affinity for electronics. My guess is that like everyone else their patience is running out."

"And yours?"

"I've a different problem. Earth could be where you say it is but I can't find proof. I've checked the oldest almanacs I can find. It isn't listed. There's no entry for Earth on world listings either." He slapped one of the books. "So I tried a different tack. Stars follow a closely related pattern of distribution. The trouble is that when you get close to the Rim the distribution shows widening variables so we can't be sure a sun is where one could be expected. Or the reverse. There's also the problem of identification. Would you know your sun if you found it?"

"Yes," said Dumarest. "I'd know it."

Niall said, shrewdly, "There's only one way you could be certain. No two stars are the same though some come close. To be absolutely certain you must have a spectrograph. It's like a fingerprint. Once we match the Fraunhofer lines we'll be sure. You know that. Would you also know why Earth isn't listed?"

"That's easy. Someone wanted it lost."

Dumarest watched the navigator's face, saw the stunned look of incredulity, the beginning of a smile then, as Niall met his eyes, the smile vanished.

"You're serious," he said. "By God, you mean it! But why? Why would someone want to lose a world?"

"Someone or something. I don't know why."

"How then? How the hell could it be done?" Niall shook his head. "No! It's crazy! You just can't lose a world! It's impossible!"

"No," said Dumarest. "It would be easy." He picked an almanac from the desk and held it in his hand. "A book which lists all known worlds. If a planet isn't listed then it doesn't exist. Right?"

"It isn't known," corrected the engineer. "But, basically, it's what you say."

"So we take a world." Dumarest flipped through the pages. "Kaldar. We erase the entry. Now the planet no longer exists. Right?"

"Wrong!" Niall was emphatic. "Kaldar exists! I know it!"

"Could you prove it? If it isn't listed in this book or any other almanac? Would you be able to find anyone who would agree with you?"

"Erasing an entry doesn't eliminate a world."

"True, but how could anyone find it? There would be no listed coordinates. How could you convince anyone it was real? Especially if they believed it was only a legend. A myth which no sane man would credit. What then?"

The navigator said, slowly, "You're talking about Earth."

"Yes." Dumarest lifted the almanac in his hand. "To you and to every navigator this is the most important book in the universe. Without it you're lost. Where do you get it from?"

"Shops, repair yards, depots, traders – they're all over the place. Anyone can buy a copy."

"Good business for those who print and distribute them," said Dumarest. "But anyone can do that. The importance lies with those who compile the information. The point I'm making is that it all comes from a single source. Now tell me what would happen if someone at that source failed to include an entry."

"The error would be spotted. The data revised."

"If it was a genuine error. What if the omission was deliberate?" Dumarest threw down the book before Niall could answer. "I'm talking about a long time in the past. When, maybe, the system of navigation changed so as to use the actual center of the galaxy as the main reference point. New almanacs would have been essential. They would have been more expensive than they are now. If new almanacs had been offered in exchange for the old what would have happened?"

"No old books," said the navigator. "Are you saying that the new issue contained no reference to Earth?"

"Can you think of a better way to lose a world?!"

"It would work," admitted Niall. "Knowledge doesn't last without records. But think of what it would take. The cost. The organization. The planning. Who could have handled it?"

The Church or the Cyclan – but why?

Ulman Tighe was too brash, too aggressive. A defense against inward unease. One echoed in his voice.

"Commander, a word of warning. You were straight with me on Fionnula. You believed me. Many didn't. Even now some think I murdered Nigel and the girl. That doesn't bother them. What does is the way some of their friends were abandoned. They blame you for that. There's talk of revenge."

To the Kaldari that meant death delivered with brutal efficiency. Weapons weren't available in the ship which meant that a group were preparing themselves to beat him to death. Tighe also if they ever discovered he had carried the warning. Something he knew and by speaking he had demonstrated a personal loyalty.

Dumarest said, "Thank you for telling me. Don't be among them."

"He won't," said Nadine when Tighe had gone. "He's got more sense. But he's right about the danger. I've sensed it accumulating for some time now. I'd hoped it would dissipate but it's grown worse. They want to kill you. Earl!" Her hand closed on his arm. "Stay away from them. Keep to the bridge and your cabin. Don't give them the chance to get at you. Damn it," she snapped, reading his rejection of her advice. "At least carry a gun!"

"Where are they?"

"The gun -"

"Forget the gun. Where do I find those who want to kill me?"

In the salon, the natural place, but the compartment was too quiet. It lacked the rattle of dice and slap of cards, the sounds of those playing or gambling on the luck of those who did. A place of recreation which, in some subtle manner, had become something else. A lair. A haven for plotters. A den for predators in human shape.

"Commander?" A man looked up from where he lounged at a table, his use of the title a sneer. "This is an honor."

"Is it?" Dumarest glanced at the others in the salon. Many were women, a division which meant nothing for the women of the Kaldari were as vicious as the men. "This salon is for common use. If you want privacy go somewhere else. If you have a problem let me hear it. In the meantime get on with your duties. You!" His finger stabbed at a man. "Husad. You should be cleaning the filters. You! Fontayne. You've work in the lower hold."

"Who says so?"

"I do. You object?"

"Our work is here, damn you!"

Russo Byrne thrust himself forward from where he had been standing against a bulkhead. He was tall, strong, face proudly scarred. A man confident of his strength and prowess. The heavy rings he wore could pulp flesh and shatter bone.

The man at the table said, 'Take it easy, Russo."

"Why?"

Dumarest said, evenly, "Stefan is right. Use your head instead of your mouth. I give the same advice to all of you. The captain will never tolerate mutiny."

"Is that what you call it?" A man beside Stefan spat his disgust. Lefro Grake who had lost a brother. "I call it exterminating vermin. Getting rid of filth who threatens to destroy us all. You don't give a damn for the Kaldari. All you want is the ship and enough men to take it where you want it to go."

The truth but Dumarest didn't admit it. "It's still mutiny. The captain will have you fed into space."

"For an accident?" Byrne stepped even closer. "A fair fight? How can a man be blamed for hitting just a little too hard?" Light shone from his rings as he lifted hands closed into fists. "All of us here will swear it was your choice."