"Oh, him!" Dar Girdek waved a hand. "Nothing there. In the first place,
he holds one of the biggest estates in the mountain area. So what would
he want to rob a freight caravan for?" He laughed.
"In the second place, the guy's practically harmless. Oh, sure, he's got
a title. He's Lord of the Mountain Lake. And he wears a lot of psionic
crystalware. But he's got about enough punch to knock over some
varmint--if it's not too tough. Dar Makun might be your weak brother,
but he'd have eaten that guy for breakfast if he'd tried to be rough."
"Psionic weakling, you mean? But how does he manage to be a master
Protector of an Estate?"
Dar Girdek smiled wryly. "Father died. Brother sneaked off somewhere.
That left him. Title's too clear for anyone to try any funny business."
"I see." Naran leaned back. "Now, what about this null?"
"Well, of course you know about the time the pseudomen from the Fifth
managed to sneak in and lay a mess of their destructors on Carnol?"
"I might. I was one of the guys that saw to it they didn't get back to
celebrate." Naran closed his eyes for an instant.
"Yeah. Way I heard it, you were the guy that wrapped 'em up. Too bad
they didn't get you on the job sooner. Maybe we wouldn't have this mess
on our hands now." Dar Girdek shrugged.
"Anyway, they vaporized the city and a lot of area around it. That was
bad, but the aftereffect is worse. We've got scholars beating their
brains cells together, but all they can tell us is that there's a big
area up there just as psionically dead as an experimental chamber." He
grinned.
"I could tell 'em that much myself. It's a sort of cloud. Goes
turbulent, shoots out arms, then folds in again.
"We'd by-pass the whole thing, but it's right on the main trade route.
Only way around it is plenty of days out of the path, clear down around
the middle sea and into the lake region. Then you have to go all the way
back anyway, if you plan to do any mid-continent trading. And you still
take a chance of getting caught in a swirl arm."
Naran tilted his head. "So? Suppose you do get into a swirl? All you
need to do is wait." He smiled.
"You know. Just sort of ignore it. It'll go away."
"Uh huh. Sounds easy enough. It's about what we do when we have to. But
there are things living there. They can be hard to ignore."
"You mean the carnivores?"
"That's right. If you meet one of those fellow out in normal territory,
he's no trouble at all. You hit him with a distorter and he flops. Then
you figure out whether to reduce him to slime or leave the carcass for
his friends and relations." He smiled.
"From what your brother said, you wouldn't need the distorter."
Naran smiled deprecatingly. "That's one of the things they pay me for,"
he remarked. "We run into some pretty nasty beasties at sea."
"Yeah. I've heard. Big, rough fellows. Our varmints are smaller. But
what would you do if you ran into twenty tons or so of pure murder, and
you with no more psionic power than some pseudoman?"
Naran looked at him thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought of that," he
admitted. "I might not like it. Jaws as longs as a man, you said?"
The other nodded. "Longer, sometimes. And teeth as long as your hand.
One snap and there's nothing left.
"When they kill a long-neck, they have a good meal and walk away from
whatever's left. But people are something else. They just can't get
enough and they don't leave any crumbs." He waved a hand.
"There've been several trains caught by those things. A swirl arm comes
over at night, you see, and the caravan master loses his head. He can't
think of anything but getting out. Oh, he can yell at his drivers.
They've got a language, and we all know it. That's easy. But did you
ever try to get a long-neck going without psionic control?"
"I see what you mean. It could be a little rough."
"Yeah. It could be. Anyway, about this time, everybody's yelling at
everybody else. The long-necks are squealing and bellowing. Drivers are
jerking on reins. And a herd of carnivores hears the commotion. So, they
drop around to see the fun. See what I mean?"
Naran nodded and Dar Girdek went on.
"Well, that's about it. Once in a great while, some guy manages to get
into a cave and hide out till the null swings away and another caravan
comes along. But usually, no one sees anything but a little of the cargo
and some remains of long-necks. No one's ever come up with any part of
man or pseudoman. As I said, one snap and there's nothing left."
Naran smiled wryly. "Tough to be popular, I guess." He leaned forward.
"But you've been over the trail several times since he disappeared. And
you said you've seen nothing. No trace of the train. That right?"