Etzwane gave his. head a dreary shake. "Dead we are no use to anyone, least of all ourselves."

Karazan sneered. "So it is to be surrender? They will take us away and make us their slaves."

"This is the prospect," said Etzwane. "It is better than death. Our hope is that the Earth worlds at last know the situation and will intervene on our behalf."

Karazan gave a jeering laugh and clenched his great fists, but still stood indecisive. From below came the sounds of ingress. Karazan told his warriors: "Make no resistance. Our force falls short of our desires. We must suffer the penalties of weakness."

Into the dome ran two black Ka, each with an asutra clamped to the nape of its neck. They ignored the men except to shoulder them aside and moved to the controls. One worked the curious little studs with ease and certainty. Deep within the ship an engine whined. The view outside the dome grew dim, then dark; nothing could be seen. Another Ka came to the entrance of the dome. It made gestures, indicating that the Alula and Etzwane were to leave. Sullenly Karazan hunched to the exit, and bending his neck, marched down the ramp toward the slave hold. Etzwane followed, and the others came behind.

CHAPTER 8

The Alula squatted in the aisles between the slave racks. The Ka ignored them as they moved about their tasks, asutra clamped to their necks like leeches.

The depot ship was in motion. The men felt no vibration, no lunge or surge, but the knowledge was sure, as if the shifting infrasubstance rasped upon a sensitive area of the brain. The men huddled silently, each thinking his own sullen thoughts. The Ka paid them no heed.

Time passed, at a pace impossible to measure. Where uncertainty and taut nerves had previously drawn out the hours, now a dismal melancholy worked to the same effect.

Etzwane's single hope was that Ifness had not been killed on the Plain of Blue Flowers, and that vanity would impel him to their assistance. The Alula knew no hope whatever and were apathetic. Etzwane looked across the chamber to the niche where lay Rune the Willow Wand. He could see the outline of her temple and cheekbone, and felt a sudden warmth. To seem gallant in her sight, he had risked and lost his freedom. Such would be Ifness' insulting opinion. Was it justified? Etzwane heaved a sad sigh. His motives had been complex; he did not know them himself.

Karazan heaved himself to his feet. He stood motionless for ten seconds, then stretched out his great arms, twisted them this way and that, making the muscles writhe. Etzwane became alarmed; Karazan's face was peculiarly calm and intent. The Alula watched, interested but indifferent. Etzwane jumped up, called out sharply. Karazan gave no signal that he had heard. Etzwane shook his shoulder; Karazan slowly turned his head; Etzwane saw no expression in the wide gray eyes.

The other Alula rose to their feet. One muttered to Etzwane, "Stand back. He is in death-seek."

Another said, "It is dangerous to molest folk in this condition; after all, his way may be the best."

"Not so! " cried Etzwane. "Dead folk are no good to anyone. Karazan! " He shook the massive shoulders. "Listen! Do you hear me? If you ever want to see Lake Nior again, listen! "

He thought that a flicker of response appeared in Karazan's eyes. "We are not without hope! Ifness is alive; he will find us."

One of the other Alula asked anxiously, "Do you really believe this?"

"If you knew Ifness you would never doubt it! The man cannot tolerate defeat."

"This may be," said the Alula, "but how does this avail when we are lost upon a far star?"

From Karazan's throat came a hoarse sound and then words. "How can he find us?"

"I don't know," Etzwane admitted, "but I will never lose hope. " Karazan said in a throbbing voice, "It is foolish to speak of hope. In vain did you draw me back."

"If you are a brave man you will hope," said Etzwane. " 'Death-seek' is the easy way."

Karazan made no reply. Once more he seated himself, then stretching out full-length he slept. The other Alula muttered together, turning cool glances toward Etzwane, as if his interference with Karazan's "death-seek " were not to their liking… Etzwane went to his accustomed place and presently fell asleep.

The Alula had become unfriendly. Pointedly they ignored Etzwane and pitched their voices so that he could not hear. Karazan did not share the hostility, but sat off by himself, twirling a weighted thong around his finger.

The next time Etzwane slept, he awoke suddenly to. find three Alula standing over him: Black Hulanik, Fairo the Handsome, Ganim Thornbranch. Ganim Thornbranch carried a length of cord. Etzwane sat up, energy gun ready at hand. He remembered Hozman Sore-throat and his lolling tongue. The Alula, blank-faced, moved off across the room.

Etzwane reflected a few moments, then went to Karazan. "Some of your men were about to kill me."

Karazan nodded ponderously and twirled his thong.

"What is the reason for this?"

It seemed that Karazan might make no response. Then, with something of an effort, he said, 'There is no particular reason. They want to kill someone and have selected you. It is a game of sorts."

"I don't care to join," Etzwane declared in a brassy voice. "They can play with someone from their own group. Order them to let me be. " Karazan shrugged lethargically. It makes little difference."

"Not to you. To me it makes a great deal of difference."

Karazan shrugged and twirled his thong.

Etzwane went off to consider the situation. So long as he remained awake, he would live. When he slept, he would die-perhaps not the first, nor even the second time. They would play with him, try to break his nerve. Why? No reason. A game, the malicious sport of a barbarian tribe. Cruelty? Etzwane was the outsider, a non-Alula with no more status than a chumpa captured for the baiting.

Several recourses suggested themselves. He could shoot his tormentors and abate the nuisance once and for all. A solution not wholly satisfactory. Even if the asutra failed to confiscate the gun, the game would continue in a more vicious form, with everyone waiting until he slept. The best defense was offense, thought Etzwane. He rose to his feet and crossed the chamber, as if on his way to the latrine. His eyes fell on the still form of Rune the Willow Wand; she seemed less appealing than before; she was, after all, an Alula barbarian, no better than her fellows… Etzwane turned aside to the room containing the bags of meal cake and the water tanks. In the doorway he halted to inspect the group. They looked back askance. Smiling grimly Etzwane brought forward a case of food and seated himself. The Alula watched with alert but expressionless faces. Etzwane once more rose to his feet. He took a wafer of the meal cake and a mug of water. Reseating himself, he ate and drank. He noticed several of the Alula licking their lips. As if by common impulse, all turned away and somewhat ostentatiously gave themselves to slumber.

Karazan looked on soberly, his noble forehead creased in a frown. Etzwane ignored him. What if Karazan wanted food and drink? Etzwane had come to no firm decision. He would probably provide Karazan his sustenance.

Upon consideration he moved back into the shadows, where he was less vulnerable to a thrown knife: the obvious response of the Alula. Presently, dissatisfied with his arrangements, he stacked several boxes of meal to provide a barricade behind which he could see but not be seen.

He began to feel drowsy. His eyelids sagged… He awoke with a start to notice one of the Alula sidling close.

"Two more steps and you're a dead man," said Etzwane.

The Alula stopped short. "Why should you deny me water? I took no part in the baiting."