The diamond-shaped building expanded, the funnel opened out like a target. "Hold it!" cried Barch. "Are you going to land on that roof?"

Tick waved his arm in a kind of lunatic light-hearted reassurance. "That's where the loaded barges come out; you want a loaded one› don't you?"

"That's what we want," said Barch. "Drop down and be ready to land on one as soon as it's safe."

"Safe?" Tick suddenly thought of his loss. "Nothing is safe, surety has fled; death rides one's shoulders like a brain-sucker." He turned to Barch. "Did you know that without the beach diagram, a man may not even die properly?"

"Watch that barge," said Barch unfeelingly. "It's coming out."

A barge slid up into the air, round black bosses making a polka-dot pattern in the hold. "Hell and damnation!" said Barch. "Do they ship an army corps to guard the things?"

Kerbol squinted. "A dozen Lenape, six Bornghalese guards -worse than the Podruods."

Tick slanted down. "Tell me when to land."

Barch yelled, "Pull up, you idiot! We can't kill all those men!"

Tick turned the raft off to the side in injured silence. After a moment Barch said, "We'll have to wait for the next one. How long should that be?"

Tick waved his arm. "I have no knowledge. Perhaps one hour, perhaps two. But we had better go back to the mountains; the project is impractical. Without my charm, I feel death close at my side."

"We don't go back till we get one or two of those sustenators. We can't breathe five years on a barge-load of air."

"But you do not attack," complained Tick. "The barge comes out, you draw back, you hesitate. Better to go back to Palkwarkz Ztvo and sleep."

"The next barge may have no guards on it."

"All sustenator barges carry guards. They watch the Lenape, who have grown and modulated the sustenators, and who go along to fit them into the spaceship frames."

"Oh," said Barch.

Tick pointed. "Now here comes a barge to be loaded." He looked quickly at the locator. "Rust-orange-out of Mem-pas Six, a Bornghaleze District."

Barch said, "We'll board that barge. By the time it comes back out, it'll be loaded with what we want. Sustenators and Lenape brains. Quick!"

Tick skidded the craft sidewise through the air; a trick Barch had never known the raft capable. It flipped over the rail, settled to the floor of the hold.

Barch jumped off, onto the solidity of the barge. "Come along, Tick. Kerbol, slide the raft up under the forward apron."

Barch ran lightly forward, slid open the dome. The pilot was a graceful maroon creature, handsome as a hero's mask; but, when he turned to look, Barch saw the four-point star in his eyes-Bornghalese. No occasion for delicacy. Barch shot, pushed Tick into the pilot's seat. "Take over. Fly the barge down to the sideway, then stay put in the dome. Don't come out, don't say anything! When you get a full load, start out for Gdoa."

Tick nodded, reached down, detached the dead man's assignment card, fixed it to himself. Barch seized the dead Bornghalese, hesitated. If he dragged the body back into the hold, he might be seen from the black diamond building.

"Kick him out," said Tick off-handedly. "Let him fall."

Why not? thought Barch. He opened the front portal, shoved; the maroon body flapped down through the shadows like a demon-bird.

Barch turned to give last instructions to Tick, thought better of it. No need to instruct Tick in brass: that was carrying coals to Newcastle. He hastened back into the hold. The forward catwalk created a dark shelter; Kerbol had slid the raft below, raised it to press up against the overhead.

Barch looked around the hold for a hiding place, and perforce came back to the apron, under the forward catwalk. Where was Kerbol? Barch crouched in sudden cat-like caution, slunk forward, gun in hand.

"Up here," rumbled a hoarse voice.

Barch ducked, looked up into the cross-bracing under the catwalk. "Oh." He swung himself up alongside, peered out through the lattice of metal lath. "I hope this turns out to be a good idea."

The barge grounded on a yielding floor; there was cessation to the near-soundless hum of the motors. The barge gave a lurch, slid into position, moved slowly along the slide-way. Lurid lights glowed on Barch's face; he turned his head, saw Kerbol huddled tightly in the corner as if impersonating a shadow.

A tall man yellow as a lemon, thin as a heron, wearing a conical green hat, leaped down into the barge, stalked thoughtfully back and forth, his eyes on the deck as if seeking a lost object. He bent, made a mark, stepped out with one stride of spidery leg.

The raft slid on. On one side gleamed high prismatic panes, from the other came a soft hum with forms and shapes moving, twitching, jerking, contracting.

A musical horn blast sounded; a second spidery man stepped into the hold, walked peering back and forth. He bent over the first man's mark, straightened, looked up. A tremendous black shape dropped with frightening suddenness, buffeting the air three feet from Barch's face, cutting off his view.

A moment passed. The great black shape snapped away like the flick of an eyelid, and now the hold was clear of all litter.

The barge slid placidly, as if floating in a quiet canal. Peering through the cracks, Barch saw a low portal ahead. The barge passed through into darkness.

A tremendous hand seized Barch, banged him against the metal. A roar like a million whirlwinds rang in his ears. He seized the bracing, gripped for dear life against the pressure.

The barge slid into light. Barch unfolded his bruised body, looked across to Kerbol. "Are you still there?"

Kerbol grunted. Barch fitted himself gingerly back against the angle struts, which now seemed cunningly designed to press into his aches.

Two men with long pony-faces, mottled white and brown skin, wearing hats like mushrooms, hopped down into the hold, waited. They looked up, reached. A black case hanging on a tube, like a berry on a stalk, dropped into the hold. The piebald men shoved it into a corner; the stalk snapped away.

A minute passed, the raft drifted past a bank of blue, red and green lights. Then another sustenator dropped into the hold. Another rank of lights, another sustenator.

The struts ground into Barch's flesh, he shifted and twisted. Kerbol sat like a lump of putty, motionless. The hold gradually filled, the loaders backing stolidly toward the forward apron.

After an interminable period, the hold was full. The barge slid on, around and up. Sudden vast bright space surrounded the barge. They had come out into a hall. The diamond-shaped building? Barch craned his neck, could see nothing but a high glowing ceiling.

He heard voices of a peculiar brazen timber that his skin recognized with instant contraction: Podruods. He saw massive red legs stalking around the catwalk; he thought he heard Tick's light rhythmical intonations. A moment later the deck sounded to the thud of new feet. Barch glimpsed a round yellow-brown face. Greenish-yellow splotches like grease paint surrounded eyes like balls of opal.

One after another, perhaps a dozen, they jumped on rubbery legs into spaces between the sustenators, stood silent as bisque dolls.

Two Podruods went one to each of the rear comers, planted themselves like a pair of statues. The little round men looked up with the blank eyes of sheep.

Barch inspected them critically. Who were these? What would he do with them? They looked completely inept, useless-a burden to the tribe. He wanted brains-Lenape mechanics, technicians; what he got was little fat men.