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"Then you did not come in answer to our signals?" burst out Fortus Kan. His round boyish face sagged with disappointment.

  "We are engaged in a routine scouting mission," returned Kartr as coldly as he dared. The uneasiness in the atmosphere was growing stronger every moment. The Ageratan's shield might be strong but he could not altogether control all emotions. And he might not be trying to.

  An Ageratan was a five point nine on the sensitive scale, yes. But unless Cummi had met one of

  Kartr's little-known race before-which was hardly likely since so few of them had ever volunteered for off-planet duty-he could not guess he was now facing a six point six!

  "Then-" Fortus Kan's voice became close to a wail. "You can't get us away from here. But at least you can bring help-"

  Kartr shook his head. "I will report your presence to my commanding officer. How many of you are here?"

  "One hundred and fifty passengers and twenty-five crew members," Joyd Cummi returned crisply.

  "May I ask how you reached this building without our notice? We activated for our protection the patrol robots we found here-"

  He was interrupted, much to his evident annoyance by Fortus Kan.

  "Did you destroy that patroller?" he demanded eagerly. "The one on Cummi Way?"

  Cummi Way! Kartr caught the significance of that. So the Vice-Sector Lord ruled here-enough to give his name arbitrarily to the main thoroughfare of the city.

  "We deactivated a robot in what we thought a deserted city," he returned. "Since your being here is of importance we shall end our exploration and return immediately to our camp."

  "Of course." Cummi was now the efficient executive. "We have been able to restore to running order several of the ground transportation vehicles we discovered here. Let one of them drive you back-"

  "We flew in," Kartr countered swiftly. "And we shall return the same way. Long life, Vice-Sector

  Lord!" He raised his hand in the conventional salute. But he wasn't to escape so easily.

  "At least you can be driven to where you left your flyer, Ranger Sergeant. There are other robot patrollers in use and it will be safer if one who knows their code accompanies you. We cannot afford to risk you of the Patrol-"

  Kartr dared not refuse what so smoothly appeared to be a sensible suggestion. Yet-he knew that there was trouble here. He felt along his spine the cold prickle of fear which had warned him so many times in his life before. If he could only probe Fortus Kan! But he dared not try it when the Ageratan was there.

  "I think it is best not to over-excite the people with the report of your arrival at just this moment," the

  Lord continued as he escorted the rangers back across the ante-room. "It will, of course, be encouraging for them to know that we have been contacted by the Patrol. Especially when, after five months of broadcasting from here on a feeble com, we had begun to believe that we were exiled for life. But I would prefer to discuss matters with your commander before allowing their hopes to arise.

  You probably noted Kan's response to your appearance. He saw in it the promise of an immediate return to the comforts of civilization. And since a Patrol ship could not possibly transport all of us we must make other arrangements-"

  Twice during that speech the Ageratan had made assaults at Kartr's mind, trying to learn-or-trying to win control? But the sergeant had his shield up and he knew that Cummi would only receive carefully planted impressions of a Patrol ship set down in a far district, a ship under the command of an alert and forceful officer, a difficult man for a civilian administrator to overawe.

  "I think you are wise, Vice-Sector Lord," Kartr inserted into the first oral pause. "You have been here for five months then-within this city?"

  "Not at first, no. We made an emergency landing some miles from here. But the city had registered on our photoscreens when we came down and we were able to locate it without undue difficulty. Its functions are in an amazing state of preservation-we must consider that we have been unusually favored by fortune. Of course, having Trestor Vink and two of his assistants among our number was an additional aid. He is the mech-techneer for the Nyorai line. And he has become quite absorbed in the mechanics here. He believes that originally its inhabitants were in some ways more advanced than we are. Yes, we have been very lucky."

  They crossed the room of the hidden elevator shaft and came out on a vast balcony overhanging a hall so large that Kartr felt swallowed up in space. There was a stairway from the balcony to the lower floor of the hall-a flight of steps so wide that it might have been fashioned to accommodate a race of giants. And the lower hall opened through a series of tree-like pillars into the street.

  "Coombs!"

  The figure lounging against one of the pillars snapped to attention.

  "You will take the road vehicle and drive these Patrolmen to their ship. I do not say good-bye,

  Sergeant." The Lord turned to Kartr with the graciousness of a great man addressing an admitted inferior. "We shall meet again soon. You have done a very good night's work and we are exceedingly grateful to you. Please inform your commanding officer that we shall be eagerly waiting to hear from him."

  Kartr saluted. At least the Ageratan was not insisting upon going with them to the sled. But he did stand there until they had taken their places in the small car and the driver put it into motion.

  As they moved away from the building Kartr turned his attention to the driver. That bristling shock of black hair with its odd brindling of brown showed up clearly as they swept beneath one of the banners of city light-the long jaws, too. So-that was why Cummi let them go off alone! No wonder he had not thought it necessary to accompany them himself. He would be with them in one way if not bodily.

  Their driver was a Can-hound, the perfect servant whose mind was only a receiving set used for the benefit of his master.

  Kartr's skin roughened as if something slimy trailed across him. He had the sensitive's inborn horror for the creature before him-a thing he would not dignify as either human or Bemmy. And now he would have to-have to-! The very thought made him so sick that his empty stomach twisted. This was the worst, the lowest task he had ever had forced upon him. He would have to go into that mind, skillfully enough not to be detected by the distant master, and there implant some false memories-

  "Which way?" Even that voice rasped sickeningly along his nerves.

  "Along this wide street here," he ordered with stiff lips. His hand closed over Rolth's. The Faltharian did not move but he answered with a light return pressure.

  Kartr began, while his mouth twisted into a tortured ring of disgust and his mind and body alike fought wildly against the will which forced him to do this thing. It was worse than he had expected, he was degraded, soiled unspeakably by that contact. But he went on. Suddenly the car pulled to the side of the street, wavered into an open space between buildings, came to a stop in a courtyard. They remained in it while Kartr fought the miserable battle to the end. That came when the Can-hound's head fell forward and he slumped limply in the driver's seat.

  Rolth got out. But Kartr had to steady himself with his hands as he followed. He reeled across the court and hung retching on a window sill. Then Rolth reached him and steadied his shaking body.

  With the Faltharian's arm still around him, the sergeant wavered out on the street.

  "Just ahead-" Kartr got out the words painfully between spasms of sickness.

  "Yes, I have seen."

  The faint gleam of radiation was undoubtedly clearer to Rolth's light-sensitive eyes than it was to his own. They were about four blocks now from the point where the robot had fired at the doorway. And from there they could easily find their marked trail back to the sled.

  Rolth asked no questions. He was there, a hand ready to support, a vast comforting glow of clean friendship. Clean-! Kartr wondered if he would ever feel clean again. How could a sensitive-even an Ageratan-deal with and through a creature such as that? But he mustn't think of the Can-hound now.

  He was w
alking steadily again by the time they detoured around the nuclear fire in the doorway. And he turned the walk into a ground-covering lope as the Faltharian retraced the trail he had earlier marked. When they got to the sled Kartr made a single suggestion.

  "Lay a crossed course out of here-they may have some sort of scanner on us-"

  Rolth grunted an assent. The sled took to the air. A cold wind, heralding the dawn, cut into them.

  Kartr wanted to wash in it, wash away the filth of the encounter with the Can-hound.

  "You do not want them to know about us?" That was half question, half statement.

  "It isn't up to me-that's Jaksan's problem," returned Kartr, out of a vast and overwhelming weariness.

  The drain of that mind battle had almost meant a drain of life force too. He wanted to lie down and sleep, just sleep. But he couldn't. And he forced himself to give Rolth an explanation of what they had been pitted against-what they might have to fear in the future.

  "That driver was a Can-hound. And there is something very wrong-completely wrong back there."

  Rolth might not be a sensitive but as a ranger he knew a lot. He snapped out a biting word or two in his own tongue.

  "I had to get into his mind-to make him a set of false memories. He will report back that he took us to the sled, certain things we were supposed to have said during the trip-the direction in which we departed-"

  "So that was what you were doing!" Rolth's dark eyes lifted from the course indicator long enough to favor his companion with a look in which respect and awe were mingled.

  Kartr relaxed, his head drooped to rest on the back of the seat. Now that they were out of the glare of the city the stars shone palely overhead. How was Jaksan going to handle this? Would he order them in to unite with the castaways in the city? If so-what about Cummi? What was he doing-planning right now?

  "You distrust the Ageratan?" Rolth demanded as they streaked north on the evasive path Kartr had suggested.

  "He is an Ageratan-you know them. He is a Vice-Sector Lord, there is no doubt he is in complete command in the city. And-he would not take kindly to having his rule disputed-"

  "So he might not be in favor of the Patrol?"

  "Maybe. Sector Lords are uneasy enough nowadays-there is a pull and tug of power. I would like very much to know why he was making a trip on an ordinary passenger ship anyway. If he-"

  "Were getting away from some local hot spot he would be only too glad to found a new kingdom here? Yes, that I can well understand," said Rolth. "Now we go home-"

  The sled made a long curve to the right. Rolth shut off the propulsion rockets, kept on only the hover screens. They drifted slowly on the new course. It would take time, add an extra hour or so to their return journey. But unless the city had something new in scanners they were now off every spy screen.

  They did very little talking for the rest of the trip. Kartr dozed off once and awoke with a start from a black dream. The need for complete rest drugged his mind when he tried to flog his weary brain into making plans. He would report the situation to Jaksan. The arms officer was hostile to the impressions of a sensitive-he might not welcome Kartr's description of the unease in the city. And the sergeant had no proof to back his belief that the farther they stayed away from Cummi the better. Why did he fear Cummi? Was it because he was an Ageratan, another sensitive? Or was it because of the Canhound?

  Why was he so sure that the Vice-Sector Lord was a dangerous enemy?

  7 - THE RANGERS STAND TOGETHER

  "You must admit that his account was plausible enough-"

  Kartr faced Jaksan across the flat rock which served the camp as a table.

  "And the city," persisted the arms officer mercilessly, "is in an excellent state of preservation. Not only that, but this party from the X451 includes mech-techneers who have been able to start it functioning again-"

  The sergeant nodded wearily. He should have brought to this contest of will a clear mind and a rested body. Instead he ached with both mental and physical fatigue. It was an effort to hold his stand against the hammering disapproval of the other.

  "If all this is true"-Jaksan reached what he certainly believed to be a logical and sensible conclusion-for the third time-"I cannot understand this reluctance of yours, Kartr. Unless-" he was radiating hostility again but the sergeant was almost too tired to care-"unless you have taken a dislike to this Ageratan for personal reasons." Then he paused and his hostility was broken for an instant by an emotion close to sympathy. "Wasn't it an Ageratan who gave the order to burn off

  Ylene?"

  "It might have been for all I know. But that is not the reason why I distrust this Joyd Cummi," began

  Kartr with such remnants of patience as he could muster.

  There was no use in making an issue of Cummi's use of the Can-hound. Only another sensitive could understand the true horror of that. Jaksan had settled on an explanation for Kartr's attitude which was reasonable to him and he would hold to it. The sergeant had learned long ago that those who were not sensitives had a deep distrust of perception and the mind touch and some refused to even admit its existence as a fact. Jaksan was almost of that group-he would believe in Kartr's ability to meet and deal with animals and strange non-humans, but he inwardly repudiated the sergeant's being able to contact or read his fellow men. There was no arguing with him on that point. Kartr sighed. He had done what he could to prevent what he knew would be Jaksan's next move. Now he could only wait for the menace he believed was in the city to show itself.

  So they made the journey to join the X451's survivors, and they admitted, against all Kartr's pleas, their own shipwrecked condition. Joyd Cummi greeted them with urbane and welcoming ease. There was a ship's medico to attend to Vibor-there were luxurious quarters in, as Kartr noted with suspicion, corridors adjacent to the Vice-Sector Lord's own, for the crewmen and the officers.

  The welcome granted the rangers was, however, somewhat cooler. Kartr and Rolth were accepted, given subtly to understand that, as humans, they would stand equal with the commoners of Cummi's kingdom. But the Ageratan had given Zinga and Fylh no more than a nod and made no suggestions for their lodging. Kartr gathered his small command together in the center of a large bare room where no eavesdropper could possibly listen in.

  "If," Zinga said as they settled themselves cross-legged on the floor, "you still maintain that the odor issuing through these halls is far from flower-like, I shall agree with you! How long"-he turned to

  Kartr-"are you going to let some ragged tails of loyalty pull you into situations such as this?"

  Fylh's claws rasped along the hard scales on the other's forearm.

  "Rangers should only speak when spoken to. And Bemmy rangers must let their superiors decide what is best for them. Such must be dutiful and humble and keep their places-"

  The close guard which Kartr had kept upon his temper ever since his warning had been so quickly disregarded vanished at Zinga's remark.

  "I've heard enough of that!"

  "Zinga has a point," Rolth paid no attention to Kartr's outbreak. "We either accept the prevailing conditions here-or we leave-if we can. And maybe we can't wait too long or be halfway about it."

  " `If we can,' " repeated, Zinga with a grin displaying no humor but many sharp teeth. "That is a most interesting suggestion, Rolth. I wonder if there were-or are-any Bemmys numbered in the crew or among the passengers of the X451. You notice that I am inclined to use the past tense when I refer to them. Indications would make that seem proper."

  Kartr studied his two brown hands, one protruding from the dirty sling, the other resting on his knee.

  They were scratched and calloused, the nails worn down. But though he was examining each one of those scratches with minute attention he was really absorbed in the nasty implications of Zinga's words. No-he didn't have to accept matters as they were. He should make a few preparations of his own.

  "Where are our packs?" he asked Zinga.

  Both eyelids clos
ed in a slow wink. "Those creatures are under our eye. If we have to leave in a hurry we'll be able to do so with full tramping equipment."

  "I shall suggest to Jaksan that the rangers take quarters on their own-together-" Kartr said slowly.

  "There is a three-story tower on the west corner of this building," cut in Fylh. "Should we withdraw to that lofty perch-well, it may be that they will be so glad to be rid of us that they will permit it."

  "Let ourselves be bottled up?" asked Zinga with some sting in his hissing voice.

  Fylh clicked his claws with an irritated snap. "No one is going to be bottled up. Please remember we are dealing with highly civilized city dwellers, not explorers. To them all possible passages in and out of a building are accounted for by windows and doors only."

  "Then this tower of yours boasts some feature not included in that catalogue which would serve us in a pinch?" There was a little smile curving Rolth's pale lips.