Star Born - Andre Norton (life changing books to read .TXT) 📗

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 the com-tech’s heavy breathing, but walked a circular beat which took him into the darkness of the night in a path about the flyer. Overhead the stars were sharp and clear, glittering gem points. But in the dead city no light showed, and he was sure that no aliens camped there tonight.

He was sleeping when Soriki’s grasp on his shoulder brought him to that instant alertness he had learned on field maneuvers half the Galaxy away.

“Business,” the com-tech’s voice was not above a whisper as he leaned over the pilot. “I think they are on the move.”

The light was the pale gray of pre-dawn. Raf pulled himself up with caution to look at the globe. The com-tech was right. A dark opening showed on the alien ship; they had released their hatch. He fastened his tunic, buckled on his equipment belt and helmet, strapped his boots.

“Here they come!” Soriki reported. “One⁠—two⁠—five⁠—no, six of them. And they’re heading for the city. No dollies with them, but they’re all armed.”

Together the Terrans watched that patrol of alien warriors, their attitude suggesting that they hoped to pass unseen, hurry toward the city. Then Raf slipped out of the flyer. His dark clothing in this light should render him largely invisible.

Soriki waved encouragingly and the pilot answered with a quick salute before he sped after his quarry.

XIII A Hound Is Loosed

Dalgard’s feet touched gravel; he waded cautiously to the bank, where a bridge across the river made a concealing shadow on the water. None of the mermen had accompanied him this far. Sssuri, as soon as his human comrade had started for the storage city, had turned south to warn and rally the tribes. And the merpeople of the islands had instituted a loose chain of communication, which led from a clump of water reeds some two miles back to the seashore, and so out to the islands. Better than any of the now legendary coms of his Terran forefathers were these minds of the spies in hiding, who could pick up the racing thoughts beamed to them and pass them on to their fellows.

Although there were no signs of life about the city, Dalgard moved with the