lizard thing,” Raf commented. “And some of those on the island were armed with spears—”
“Must be good fighters if, armed with spears, they brought down a reptile as big as you say. It was big, wasn’t it?”
Raf stared at the city, a square of half eaten concentrate in his fingers. Yes, that was a puzzler. The dead monster would be more than he would care to tackle without a blaster. And yet it was dead, with a smashed spear for evidence as to the manner of killing.
All those others dead in the arena, too. How large a party had invaded the city? Where were they now?
“I’d like to know,” he was speaking more to himself than to the com-tech, “how they did do it. No other bodies—”
“Those could have been taken away by their friends,” Soriki suggested. “But if they’re still hanging about, I hope they won’t believe that we’re bigger and better editions of the painted lads. I don’t want a spear through me!”
Raf, remembering the maze of lanes and streets—bordered by buildings which could provide hundreds of lurking places for attackers—which he had threaded with the confidence of ignorance earlier that day, began to realize why the aliens had been so nervous. Had a sniper with a blast rifle been stationed at a vantage point somewhere on the roofs today none of them would ever have returned to this field. And even a few spacemen with good cover and accurate throwing aim could have cut down their number a quarter or a third. He was developing a strong distaste for those structures. And he had no intention of returning to the city again.
He lounged about with Soriki for the rest of the afternoon, watching the ceaseless activity of the aliens. It was plain that they were intent upon packing into the cargo hold of their ship everything they could wrest from the storage house. As if they must make this trip count double. Was that because they had discovered that their treasure house was no longer inviolate?
In the late afternoon Hobart and Lablet came back with one of the work teams. Lablet was still excited, full of what he had seen, deduced, or guessed during the day. But the captain was very quiet and sober, and he unstrapped the wrist camera as soon as he reached the flitter, turning it over to Soriki.
“Run that through the ditto,” he ordered. “I want two records as soon as we can get them!”
The com-tech’s eyebrows slid up, “Think you might lose one, sir?”
“I don’t know. Anyway, we’ll play it safe with double records.” He accepted the ration pack Raf had brought out for him. But he did not unwrap it at once; instead he stared at the globe, digging the toe of his space boot into the soil as if he were grinding something to powder.
“They’re operating under full jets,” he commented. “As if they were about due to be jumped—”
“They told us that this was territory now held by their enemies,” Lablet reminded him.
“And who are these mysterious enemies?” the captain wanted to know. “Those animals back on that island?”
Raf wanted to say yes, but Lablet broke in with a question concerning what had happened to him, and the pilot outlined his adventures of the day, not forgetting to give emphasis to the incident in the celled room when the newly rescued alien had turned upon him.
“Naturally they are suspicious,” Lablet countered, “but for a people who lack space flight, I find them unusually open-minded and ready to accept us, strange as we must seem to them.”
“Ditto done, Captain.” Soriki stepped out of the flitter, the wrist camera dangling from his fingers.
“Good.” But Hobart did not buckle the strap about his arm once more, neither did he pay any attention to Lablet. Instead, apparently coming to some decision, he swung around to face Raf.
“You went out with that scouting party today. Think you could join them again, if you see them moving for another foray?”
“I could try.”
“Sure,” Soriki chuckled, “they couldn’t do any more than pop him back at us. What do you think about them, sir? Are they fixing to blast us?”
But the captain refused to be drawn. “I’d just like to have a record of any more trips they make.” He handed the camera to Raf. “Put that on and don’t forget to trigger it if you do go. I don’t believe they’ll go out tonight. They aren’t too fond of being out in the open in darkness. We saw that last night. But keep an eye on them in the morning—”
“Yes, sir.” Raf buckled on the wristband. He wished that Hobart would explain just what he was to look for, but the captain appeared to think that he had made everything perfectly plain. And he walked off with Lablet, heading to the globe, as if there was nothing more to be said.
Soriki stretched. “I’d say we’d better take it watch and watch,” he said slowly. “The captain may think that they won’t go off in the dark, but we don’t know everything about them. Suppose we just keep an eye on them, and then you’ll be ready to tail—”
Raf laughed. “Tailing would be it. I don’t think I’ll have a second invitation and if I get lost—”
But Soriki shook his head. “That you won’t. At least if you do—I’m going to make a homer out of you. Just tune in your helmet buzzer.”
It needed a com-tech to think of a thing like that! A small adjustment to the earphones built into his helmet, and Soriki, operating the flitter com, could give him a guide as efficient as the spacer’s radar! He need not fear being lost in the streets should he lose touch with those he was spying upon.
“You’re on course!” He pulled off his helmet and then glanced up to find Soriki smiling at him.
“Oh, we’re not such a bad collection of space bums. Maybe you’ll find that out someday, boy. They breezed you into this flight right out of training, didn’t they?”
“Just about,” Raf admitted cautiously, on guard as ever against revealing too much of himself. After all, his experience was part of his record, which was open to anyone on board the spacer. Yes, he was not a veteran; they must all know that.
“Someday you’ll lose a little of that suspicion,” the com-tech continued, “and find out it isn’t such a bad old world after all. Here, let’s see if you’re on the beam.” He took the helmet out of Raf’s hands and, drawing a small case of delicate instruments from his belt pouch, unscrewed the ear plates of the com device and made some adjustments. “Now that will keep you on the buzzer without bursting your eardrums. Try it.”
Raf fastened on the helmet and started away from the flitter. The buzzer which he had expected to roar in his ears was only a faint drone, and above it he could easily hear other sounds. Yet it was there, and he tested it by a series of loops away from the flyer. Each time as he came on the true beam he was rewarded by a deepening of the muted note. Yes, he could be a homer with that, and at the same time be alert to any other noise in his vicinity.
“That’s it!” He paid credit where it was due. But he was unable to break his long habit of silence. Something within him still kept him wary of the com-tech’s open friendliness.
None of the aliens approached the flitter as the shadows began to draw in. The procession of moving teams stopped, and most of the burden-bearing warriors withdrew to the globe and stayed there. Soriki pointed this out.
“They’re none too sure, themselves. Look as if they are closing up for the night.”
Indeed it did. The painted men had hauled up their ramp, the hatch in the globe closed with a definite snap. Seeing that, the com-tech laughed.
“We have a double reason for a strict watch. Suppose whatever they’ve been looking for jumps us? They’re not worrying over that it now appears.”
So they took watch and watch, three hours on and three hours in rest. When it came Raf’s turn he did not remain sitting in the flitter, listening to