"Isn't it a beautiful night." She spoke as if she hadn't heard. "All those stars. So many stars. How I envy you being able to travel among them."
He moved to stand beside her. "One of them could be the sun which warms Earth," he said. "One day we could even find it."
"I don't think so." Her tone was detached. "Earth isn't real. Not as Krantz is real. It is an abstract conception. Or an analogy. You know what an analogy is?" She moved a little closer to him, the touch of her hair soft against his cheek, the scent of her perfume heavy in his nostrils. "Earl?"
"It's a resemblance in essentials between things otherwise different."
"Yes." She was pleased. "That's what Urich said. How he explained it. The concept of a perfect place. A perfection for which we must all strive." She swayed so as to lean against him. "You are as clever as he is, Earl. And you saved me while he didn't. That makes you the better man, doesn't it?"
And to the victor the spoils. Dumarest felt the radiated heat of her body, sensed the vibrant femininity, the waking passion. She was a woman with the attributes of a child but still very much a woman, with a Family quick to avenge supposed insult.
He said, "It was luck. I just happened to be there at the right time."
"No. Not luck. You were sent to protect me. To be a guardian. To anoint me with the sacrifice of blood. And now, Earl-"
She closed the space between them, hands rising to his hair, his face. Fingers which raked like the sheathed claws of a kitten as they traced the lineaments of his eyes, his cheeks, his lips.
The touch of her own held the warm softness of flame.
A moment then he felt the pain and she was retreating, smiling, blood staining her mouth.
"Here!" The handkerchief she handed to him was of silk, edged with lace and embroidered with elaborate designs. "Wipe away the blood, my darling."
The carmine oozing from where she had bitten his lip. A harlot's trick-but she was no harlot and Dumarest wondered at her motivation. A sudden whim, a childish prank-but it had saved him from the task of refusing while not rejecting.
Handing back the handkerchief he said, "A game, my lady?"
"In the old days when the Quelen first came to Krantz things were hard. Men had to fight for the right to mate. The best blood won. Your blood is good, Earl. Full and rich and strong." Her tongue cleansed the stains from her mouth. "Vruya will like you."
"Vruya?"
"The head of the Yekatania. Here." She led him to where the dolls sat in line and picked up the one in the place of honor. Hugging it, she said, "This is Vruya. He is my special friend. And that is Maya and that Sybil and that Dallo and-"
Dumarest looked at the small, painted faces. All of her Family and all related. But Urich, the man she was to marry, wasn't among them.
Chapter Five
Blue luminescence reached for the sky as Dumarest walked toward the landing field, the glow echoed by the thunder of parting air; echoes which rolled and died into silence as the blue shimmer vanished into space. A vessel lifted on its way to another world. It had escaped the trap which held the Erce.
"The Nairn." The man spoke from shadows. "It brought a cargo of stolen wares and leaves loaded with the sweat of broken men."
"So?" Dumarest looked at the indistinct figure. "Who are you?"
"Does it matter?" The figure, robed and cowled, remained in the shadows. Beyond him, ringed by lights, the field stretched within the confines of its fence. "You arrived with almost empty holds. As yet you've bought no cargo."
"Knowing so much you must know more," snapped Dumarest. "I needed repairs and-"
"You have no money to pay for them. A bad situation to be in here on Krantz."
He was aware of that. Dumarest looked at the man, took one step forward then decided against further action. Men who lurked in shadows could carry guns beneath their robes. Always they had things to hide and usually it was best to let them retain their anonymity. But he didn't have to stand as an easy target.
"Sir!" The man called after him. "A word-please!"
"You want something?"
"To know if you are open to charter."
Dumarest said, "I'll listen to anyone who has money-but first I want to see the cash."
"To buy your way free of Krantz. I understand. If it could be arranged would you be interested in a proposition?"
"I've said so." Dumarest turned to move but hesitated long enough to add, "The next time we talk, my friend, I want to see your face."
He walked on, mulling the incident, which was common enough on many worlds especially those suffering under harsh restrictions. Men looking for a vessel to lift contraband or import proscribed items. Entrepreneurs sounding out a possible ally or potential dupe.
Police setting a trap so as to make an easy arrest and so enhance their record; a man tainted by greed would make a weak and easy victim.
But, on Krantz, there were no restrictions as to cargo-so what had the man really wanted?
A question dismissed as Dumarest reached the Erce. The vessel was locked; the port yielding to the pattern of his hand. Inside the air smelled sweet and the ship was clean- Batrun had insisted the workers clear up their debris. Closing the port Dumarest moved through the vessel-too big and too empty. Small echoes rose to accompany him like the ghosts of crews long gone. The silence hung like a brooding miasma.
"Ysanne!"
Her cabin was empty and not just of her presence. The cabinet was devoid of clothing, the drawers of her personal possessions; paints, oils, perfumes. A place abandoned in a hurry. A slashed pillow told of her rage.
"She's gone." Batrun was in the passage, calm, his fingers steady as he lifted snuff to his nostrils. "I tried to reason with her, Earl, but you know how she is."
Strong-willed, stubborn, a creature of impulse. Dumarest looked at her bed, the pillow they had shared-had she seen his image when using her knife?
"How long?"
"She came back at dusk. I heard her and came to talk. She didn't want company so I left. The next thing I knew she told me she was quitting. That was about an hour ago."
"Did she say where? With whom?"
"No. Just said she'd had a gutful of you, the ship, the whole damned thing. I quote, you understand. I did my best but she wouldn't listen."
And was now gone, perhaps in the Nairn-if so, gone forever. But if not, there was still a chance.
Batrun said, quietly, "No engineer and now we've no navigator."
"And no money to pay for repairs. So?"
"Captain Grausam of the Sharma made a suggestion. The loan of a crew in return for half the profit in a mutual enterprise."
"Slaving?"