Dar Makun closed his eyes, then opened them again. "I might deal with
you for some of those," he commented. "People out west seem to like
fresh-water stuff." He looked at Barra closely.
"I'll have to open my cargo for you," he went on. "Might be a few items
you'd be interested in."
Barra nodded. "It's possible," he said. "I always need something around
the place." He speeded the boat a little.
The boat came to the dock and Barra guided his guest into the Residence
and on into the study, where he activated the view crystal.
"There's still light enough for you to get a look at some of the herds,"
he told Dar Makun. "I believe you said you might need some more draft
beasts."
Makun watched as the hills of Kira Barra spread out in the air before
him.
"It's a good way to locate the herds and make a few rough notes," he
admitted. "Of course, I'll have to get close to the brutes in order to
really choose, though."
"Oh?"
"Fact. You see, these big lizards aren't all alike. Some of 'em are
really good. Some of 'em just don't handle. A few of 'em just lie down
when you drop the first sling on 'em." Makun nodded toward the
projection.
"That big fellow over there, for instance," he went on. "Of course, he
might slim down and make a good carrier. But usually, if they look like
a big pile of meat, that's all they're good for. A lot of 'em can't even
stand the weight of a man on their necks. Breaks 'em right down."
"A good carrier can handle a dozen tons without too much trouble, but
some of these things have it tough to handle their own weight on dry
land and you have to look 'em over pretty closely to be sure which is
which. Can't really judge by a projection."
Barra looked at the man with slightly increased respect. At least, he
knew something about his business. He shifted the viewer to the swamp.
Of course, he thought, there were draft animals over in the western
sector. But this small herd was convenient.
"Well," he said, "I've got this little herd over here. They got away
some time ago and lost a lot of weight before I rounded them up again."
Makun examined the projection with increased interest.
[Illustration]
"Yeah," he remarked. "I'd like to get out there in the morning and look
those fellows over. I just might get the five I need right out there.
Might even pick up a spare or two."
* * * * *
The swamp was a backwater of the lake, accessible by a narrow channel.
Barra slowed the boat, easing it along through the still water. Here,
the channel was clear, he knew, and it would soon widen. But there were
some gravel bars a little farther along that could be troublesome if one
were careless. And his attention was divided. He glanced at his
companion.
Makun leaned against the cushions, looking at the thick foliage far
overhead. Then he turned his attention to the banks of the channel. A
long, greenish shape was sliding out of the water. He pointed.
"Have many of those around here?"
"Those vermin?" Barra looked at the amphibian. "Not too many, but I
could do with less of them."
He picked up his distorter from the rack beside him and pointed it ahead
of the boat. The sapphire glowed.
There was a sudden, violent thrashing in the foliage on the bank. The
slender creature reared into the air, tooth-studded jaws gaping wide.
It rose above the foliage, emitting a hissing bellow. Then it curled
into a ball and hung suspended in the air for an instant before it
dropped back into the shrubbery with a wet plop.
Barra put the jewel-tipped rod back in its hanger.
"I don't like those nuisances," he explained. "They can kill a slave if
he gets careless. And they annoy the stock." He tilted his head forward.
"There's the herd," he went on, "at the other end of this open water.
I'll run up close and you can look them over if you wish."
Makun looked around, then shrugged. "Not necessary. I'll go ahead from
here. Won't take me too long."
He lifted himself into the air and darted toward one of the huge
saurians. Barra watched as he slowed and drifted close to the brute's
head, then hovered.
A faint impression of satisfaction radiated from his mind as he drifted
along the length of the creature. He went to another, then to another.
At last, he returned to the boat.
"Funny thing," he commented. "A couple of my own carriers seem to have
wandered clear through that null and mixed with your herd." He smiled.
"Stroke of luck. Too bad the rest didn't manage to stay with 'em, but
you can't have everything. I'll pay you trespass fees on those two, of
course, then I'd like to bargain with you for about four more to go with
'em. Got them all picked out and I can cut 'em out and drive them over
to the train soon's we settle the arrangements."
Barra frowned.
"Now, wait a minute," he protested. "Of course, I'll bargain with you
for any or all of this herd. But I'm in the breeding and raising
business, remember. I certainly can't give away a couple of perfectly
good beasts on someone's simple say-so. I'd like a little proof that
those two belong to your train before I just hand them over."
"Well, now, if it comes to that, I could prove ownership. Legally, too.
After all, I've worked those critters quite a while and any competent
psionic could--" Makun looked at Barra thoughtfully.
"You know, I'm not just sure I like having my word questioned this way.
I'm not sure I like this whole rig-out. Seems to me there's a little
explaining in order about now--and kind of an apology, too. Then maybe
we can go ahead and talk business."
"I don't see any need for me to explain anything. And I certainly don't
intend to make a apology of any kind. Not to you. I merely made a
reasonable request. After all, these brutes are on my land and in my
herd. I can find no mark of identification on them, of any kind." Barra
shrugged.
"As a matter of fact, I don't even know yet which two you are trying to
claim. All I ask is indication of which ones you say are yours and some
reasonable proof that they actually came from your train. Certainly, a
mere claim of recognition is ... well, you'll have to admit, it's a
little thin."
* * * * *
Makun looked at him angrily.
"Now, you pay attention to me. And pay attention good. I'm not stupid
and I'm not blind. I can see all those jewels you're loaded down with
and I know why you're wearing them. They tell me a lot about you, you
can be sure of that. Don't think I haven't noticed that patronizing air
of yours, and don't think I've liked it. I haven't and I don't.
"I know you're scared. I know you're worried to death for fear I'm going
to pull something on you. I spotted that the first time I talked to
you." He paused.
"Oh, I've been trying to ignore it and be decent, but I've had about
enough. I've been in this caravan business for a long time. I've dealt
square and I'm used to square dealing. Now, you've been putting out a
lot of side thoughts about thievery and I don't appreciate being treated
like some sneak thief. I'm not about to get used to the idea, either.
"Now, you'd better get the air cleared around here and then we can talk
business. Otherwise, there's going to be a lot of trouble."
Barra felt a surge of fury rising above his fear. This lacklander clown
actually dared to try to establish domination over a member of the
ruling class? He breathed deeply.
"I don't have--"
"All right, listen to me, you termite. You've come way too far out of
your hole. Now, you just better crawl back in there fast, before I turn
on the lights and burn your hide off."
The surge of mental power blazing at Barra was almost a physical force.
He cringed away from it, his face wrinkling in an agony of fright. Makun
looked at him contemptuously.
"All right. Now, I'll tell you--"
Smoothly, Barra's hand went to the haft of his distorter. The jewel
seemed to rise of its own accord as it blazed coldly.
For an infinitesimal time, Makun's face reflected horrified
comprehension before it melted into shapelessness.
Barra put the distorter back in its rack, looking disgustedly at the
mess on the cushions. There was nothing for it, he thought. He'd have to
destroy those, too. Cleaning was out of the question. He shook his head.
Like all these strong types, this Makun had neglected a simple
principle. With fear as his constant companion, Barra had been forced to
learn to live with it.
Extreme mental pressure was merely another form of fright. It could
paralyze a braver soul--and often did. It merely made Barra miserably
uncomfortable without disturbing his control. And the hatred that was
always in him was unimpaired--even amplified by the pounding terror.
The more thoroughly Barra was frightened, the more effectively he
attacked.
He leaned back in his seat, letting the drumming of his heart subside.
Eventually, he would recover enough to guide the boat out of the swamp
and back to the Residence.
Tomorrow? Well, he would have to inventory the freight the man had
carried. He would have to check those draft beasts. Perhaps he could
discern the hidden identification Makun had mentioned.
And he would have to make disposition of some twenty slaves. He summoned
up a smile.
Now that he thought of it, this affair could be turned to profit. After
all, Dar Makun had been diverted from his route and he had lost some of
his train. And caravans had been known to disappear in the vicinity of
turbulent nulls.
All he had to do was deny knowledge of the fate of Dar Makun's caravan
if there were any inquiry. Oh, certainly, he could tell any inquirer,
Dar Makun had arrived. He had stayed overnight and then taken his
departure, saying something about cutting around the null and back to
his normal, northern swing.
He was feeling better now. He turned his attention to the control
crystal and the boat swung about, to make its way back toward the lake.
* * * * *
It took longer than he had thought it would. It was evening of the day
after the death of Dar Makun when Barra turned in his seat and raised
his hand, then waved it in a wide circle.
A quickly directed thought halted his mount and he looked about once
more, at the thick forest.
This clearing was as close to the village of Celdalo as he wanted to
come. The villagers never came into this heavy screen of trees, but
beyond the forest, there might be some who would watch and wonder. He
smiled grimly.
Of course, it didn't make too much difference what slaves might
think--if they could think at all, but there was no reason to leave
unnecessary traces of the day's work.
He swung about in his cushions and looked back at the line of draft
beasts. They were swinging out of line now, to form a semicircle, facing
the trees ahead.
He impressed an order on his mount to stand, then lifted himself out of
the cushioned seat between the armor fins. For a few seconds, he
hovered, looking down at the beast he had been riding.
Yes, he thought, he would do well to raise a few of these creatures.
They were tractable and comfortable to ride. A good many caravan masters
might be persuaded to get rid of their less comfortable mounts in
exchange for one of these, once they had tried a day's march.
One by one, the big saurians came to the forest edge and entered the
clearing, then crouched, to let their drivers swing to the ground. Barra
looked at the lead driver.
"Make your cargo stack over here," he ordered, "at this side of the
clearing. You will wait here for your master."
The man looked confused. A vague, questioning thought came from him. It
wasn't really a coherent thought, but just an impression of
doubt--uncertainty. Barra frowned impatiently.
It had been much the same when he had ordered this man to load up back
at Tibara. Perhaps it was no wonder Dar Makun had been forced to learn
vocalization if this was the best slave he could find to develop into
his headman.
Carefully, he formed a projection. It showed the carriers gathering in
their unloading circles. He made one of the projections turn and drop
its head over another's back. The wide mouth opened and stubby, peg
teeth gripped the handling loop of a cargo sling. Then the long-neck
swiveled back, to repeat the performance.
Barra watched as the man before him nodded in obedient understanding. He
shot out a sharp, peremptory order.
"Do it, then! Do it as shown."
The man made noises, then turned, shouting at the other drivers.
Barra watched as the stack of cargo grew. At last, the final sling was
positioned and a heavy cloth cover was dropped over the great piles.
Barra looked at the headman.
"Bring your drivers close," he ordered. "I have something for them to
see."
Again, there was the moment of confusion, but this time the man had
gathered the main sense of the command. He turned again, shouting.
The drivers looked at each other questioningly, then moved slowly
forward, to form a tight group before Barra, who watched until they were
in satisfactory position.
He concentrated on the group for a few seconds, starting the formation
of a projection to his left.
As the air glowed and started to show form, the eyes of the drivers
swung toward it. Barra smiled tightly and swung his distorter up. The
crystal flamed as he swept it across the group of slaves.
He kept the power on, sweeping the distorter back and forth until all
that remained was a large pool of slime which thinned, then oozed into
the humus. At last, he tucked the rod back under his arm and examined
the scene.
There was the pile of goods. There were the carrier beasts. But no man
or pseudoman remained of the caravan. His smile broadened.
Once he had sorted this cargo and moved it to the Residence and to
various warehouses about the Estates, all traces of Dar Makun and his
train would be gone.
To be sure, a few villages would find that their herds had increased,
but this was nothing to worry about. He sighed.
It had been a hard day and it would be a hard night's work. He would
have to forget his dignity for the time and do real labor. But this was
necessity. And there was plenty of profit in it as well.
So far as the rest of the world might know, Dar Makun and his caravan
had left Kira Barra to cut back to the northern swing. And the turbulent
null had swallowed them without trace.
He turned away. He would have to bring work boats in to the nearby
beach. Their surrogates were already attuned and ready, and one of them
had been equipped with an auxiliary power crystal. He would need that.
As the boats arrived at village piers, the various headmen would merely
follow instructions as given by the boat's surrogates. He would be done
with this operation in a few hours.
* * * * *
The days went on, became weeks, then hands of weeks. Little by little,
Barra changed his attitude toward caravan masters. Once, he had been
cautious about dealing with them, allowing only a chosen few to do
business within his borders.
Now, however, he had found a whole, new source of income. And a new
sense of power had come to him. Caravans were more than welcome at Kira
Barra.
He leaned back on his new chair, enjoying the complete ease with which
it instantly shaped to fit his body. It was precisely like hovering a
short distance above the floor, yet there was no strain of concentration
on some control unit. He allowed himself to relax completely and turned
his attention to the viewer crystal.
It was new, too. The old one of his father's which he had brought to the
new Residence had seemed quite inadequate when the Residence was redone.
This new viewer had been designed for professional use. It was a full
two feet in diameter and could fill thousands of cubic feet with solid
projection.
Animals, trees, pseudomen, all could be brought before him as though
physically present in the study. Too, it was simpler than the old one
and much more accurate in its control. He sighed.
The Estates had prospered. Of course, he had been cautious. Many
caravans had come to Kira Barra and left again, their masters highly
pleased with the fair dealings of the Estates. Several had returned,
time and time again.
There had been others who had come through during times when the null
was in turbulence and it was from these that he had taken his harvest.
He had been particular in his choices, making careful evaluation before
taking any action.
By this time, his operation was faultless--a smooth routine which
admitted of no error. He smiled as he remembered his fumbling efforts
with the first caravan and his halting improvements when he had dealt
with the next. What were those fellows' names?
He shrugged. He could remember that first fellow practically begging him
to take action and he could remember his own frightened evaluation of
the situation after the first step. He had gone over a whole, long line
of alternative choices, rejecting them one by one until the inevitable,
ideal method of operation had come out. He smiled.
When he had finally settled on his general method, it had been elegantly
simple. But it had been very nearly perfect. Basically, he was still
using the same plan.
Now, of course, it was smoother and even more simplified. There were two
general routines involved.
Most caravan masters were treated with the greatest of consideration.
They were allowed to pass through the Estates with only nominal fees and
invited to avail themselves of the courtesy of the Estates at any time
in the future. If trades with the Estates were involved, the fees were
waived, of course. And many of them had returned, bringing goods and
information, as well as taking away the produce of the Estates.
Then, there were those caravans which came during turbulences in the
null and which seemed worthwhile to the now practiced eyes of Kio Barra.
These were the ones ripe for harvest. Their owners had been offered the
courtesy of the Estates--and more.
They had been taken for sightseeing tours--perhaps of the lake--perhaps
to see valuable carrier stock which could be had at bargain rates.
Then, in complete privacy, a distorter beam had made neat disposition of
them.
Their goods had been distributed through the various warehouses and
later disposed of through the safe channels which Barra had carefully
cultivated. Their slaves, of course, had been eliminated.
Barra regretted this waste of valuable property, but this way there
could be no leak of information and no inquiry could be successful.
There had been an inquiry at one time, but that had been in the earlier
days.
The inquirer had gone away with no suspicion in his mind. He had
examined the null from the hills and had agreed with Kio Barra that it
was indeed a menace. He had listened sympathetically to Barra's rueful
comments about slaves and stock which had drifted into the null, never
to be heard from again.
Barra activated the view crystal. It was time for another inspection of
the Estates.
* * * * *
The projection formed and Barra was suddenly in a wood, looking across a
wide field. Grain waved in the breeze and here and there, the
silhouettes of both long-neck and fin-back could be seen, half hidden by
grass and trees.
The scanner progressed, crossing the field and continuing to another
forest, operating on the route impressed on it. Barra relaxed as he
watched. As the scan progressed through field, swamp and forest, he
nodded in satisfaction. The Estates were in far better shape than ever
before.
Suddenly, he halted the scan, looking critically at the scene. He was in
the central clearing of Tibara. And the village didn't match with the
standards he wanted.
He looked critically at the huts. They were becoming run-down. It had
been too long since the roof thatches had been replaced. Uprights were
bending a little here, a trifle out of plumb there.
There were broken stones again in the well curb and the pile of stone
brought for repair wasn't neatly stacked. He frowned.
This was not the first time he'd had to take a firm hand in Tibara. Of
course, he had replaced headmen in other villages--more than once in
some cases. But Tibara was working on its third headman. There was
something really wrong in that village.
To be sure, Tibara was the village where most caravan slaves were
quartered. A lodge had been built there for that purpose and it was in
frequent use. Naturally, it was maintained by the villagers. But that
was even less excuse for shoddiness. This should be the neatest, best
kept village in all Kira Barra. It wasn't.
The frown deepened. This time, Tibara was going to be cleaned up, and
he'd keep his attention on it. The village would stay clean if the
villagers had to spend every second of their time on it when they
weren't taking care of their herds, their boats, and their guest lodge.
And there'd be no slacking in those other areas, either.
He looked around the clearing. There were, he was forced to admit, no
idlers about at the moment. The only people he could see were women and
children. And the women were busily occupied.
Again, he studied the scene. The men would be coming in from their
fields and from the lake in another hour. He would examine a few other
villages, then return his attention to Tibara.
* * * * *
Wearily, Retonga, headman of Tibara, pulled himself to a sitting
position. He looked over to the other side of the room. Mir was already
on her feet. She smiled at him uncertainly.
"It's morning," she said. "Rest day, at last."
"Yes." Retonga closed his eyes for an instant. It had been bad for her,
too, he knew. He'd probably been pretty hard to live with these past few
days. He sighed.
"Rest day," he mused. "But it means nothing. There's still work. There's
always work these days." He got to his feet.
"I wish I were just a herd boy--in some other village." He went to the
door and looked out.
Someone had disturbed the pile of building stones. Children had been
playing in the clearing the night before and the earth was scuffed up.
Bits of wood and cloth lay scattered here and there.
He looked at the houses. Folshan's roof was sagging a trifle, he
noticed. And there were a couple of dolls lying outside his door. He
shook his head and went out into the clearing.
Old Tamiso was squatting by the well. Retonga walked over to him.
"Your stone pile," he said. "A few of the stones are scattered."
The old man looked over, then shrugged.
"I just picked this one out," he explained. "When I get it laid, I'll
have to get another. I'll straighten the pile when I finish here."