It lay between the crystal columns, tall, of pale blue sandstone, with
letters in deep shadow of such contrast that the Lhari could read them:
a high, sheer, imposing stele. Vorongil read the words slowly aloud in
the musical Lhari language:
"'Here, with thanks to Those who Watch the Great Night, I, Rhazon of
Nedrun, raise a stone of memory. Here we first do touch the new worlds.
Let us never again fear to face the unknown, trusting that the Mind of
All Knowledge still has many surprises in store for all the living.'
"I think I admire courage more than anything there is, Bartol. Who else
could have dared it? Doesn't it make you proud to be a Lhari?"
Bart had felt profoundly moved; now he snapped back to awareness of who
he was and what he was doing. So only the Lhari had courage? _Life has
surprises, all right, Captain_, he thought grimly.
He glanced down at the badge strip of plastic on his arm. It began to
tinge faint orange as he looked, and a chill of fear went over him. He
had to get away somehow--get to cover!
He looked round and his fear was almost driven from his mind. "Captain,
the rocks! They're moving!"
Vorongil said, unruffled, "Why, so they are. They do, you know; they
have intelligence of a sort. Though I've never actually _seen_ them move
before, I know they shift places overnight. I wonder what's going on?"
They were edging back, the path widening and changing. "Oh, well, maybe
they're going to do some more landscaping for us. I once knew a captain
who swore they could read his mind."
Bart saw the slow, inexorable deepening of his badge--he _had_ to get
away. He tensed, impatient; gripped by fists of panic. Somewhere on this
world, Montano and his men were setting up their lethal radiations....
_Think of this: a Lhari ship of our own to study, to know how it works,
to see the catalyst and find out where it comes from, to read their
records and star routes. Now we know we can use it without dying in the
warp-drive...._
_Think of this: to be human again, yet to travel the stars with men of
my own race!_
_It's worth a few deaths!_
Even Vorongil? Standing here, talking to him, he might--_say it! You
talked to him as if he'd been your father! Oh, Dad, Dad, what would you
do?_
His voice was steady, as he said, "It's very good of you to show me all
this, sir, but the other men will call me a slacker. Hadn't I better get
to a work detail?"
"Hm, maybe so, feathertop," Vorongil said. "Let me see--well, down this
way is the last row of bunkers. See the humps? You can check inside to
see if they're full or empty and save us the trouble of exploring if
they're all empty. Have a look round inside if you care to--the robot
machinery's interesting."
Bart tensed; he had wondered how he'd get hidden inside, but he asked,
"Not locked?"
"Locked?" The old Lhari's short, yellowed crest bobbed in surprise.
"Why? Who ever comes here but our ships? And what could we do with the
stuff but take it back with us? Why locked? You've been on the drift too
long--among those thieving humans! It's time you got back to live among
decent folk again. Well, go along."
The sting of the words stiffened Bart as he took his leave. The color of
the badge seemed deeper orange....
_When it's red, you're dead._
_It's true. The Lhari don't steal. They don't even seem to understand
dishonesty._
_But they lied--lied to us all...._
_Knowing what we were like, maybe! That we'd steal their ships, their
secrets, their lives!_
The deepening color of the badge seemed the one visible thing in a
strange glaring world. He walked along the row of bunkers, realizing he
need not check if they were full or empty--the Lhari wouldn't live long
enough to harvest their better-than-graphite lubricant. They'd be dead.
The last bunker was empty. He looked at his orange badge and stepped
inside, heart pounding so loudly he thought it was an external sound--it
_was_ an external sound, a step.
"Don't move one inch," said a voice in Universal, and Bart froze,
trembling. He looked cautiously round.
Montano stood there, spacesuited, his head bare, dark contact lenses
blurring his eyes. And in his hand a drawn blaster was held
level--trained straight at Bart's heart.