Crashlander

The cord was attached to what looked like a police stunner, the same model as Emil's guns. The stunner was mounted on a board, and the board was fixed in place over the mouth of the cave, aimed downward. A booby trap. So easy.

The numbness was gone. My problem was the opposite: It was all I could do to keep from moving. I was stretched full-length on a rocky floor with my heels a foot higher than my nose and my arms straight above my head. If I so much as clenched a fist …

«I wonder,» Bellamy said, «what made him turn against me.»

«Who? Shaeffer?»

I could see four in the cave. Bellamy was standing over me; Warren was nearer the cave mouth. The two others were near the back, near a line of plastic crates. One was a man I'd never seen. The other — huge and frightening in the semidark, a monster from man's dimmest past, when demons and supernatural beings walked the homeworld — was Lloobee. They sat silently facing each other, as if each were waiting for something.

«Yes,» said Bellamy. «Beowulf Shaeffer. He seemed such a nice guy. Why would he go to so much effort to get me in troubleT'

«You forget, Larch.» Warren spoke with patient understanding. «They are the good guys; we are the bad guys. A simple sense of law and order —»

«Too much law and order around, Warren. There are no more frontiers. We sit in our one small area of the universe called known space, sixty light-years across, and we rot. Too much security. Everyone wants security.»

«That's Shaeffer's motive. He was backing up law and order.»

«I don't think so. Bey's not the type.»

«What type is he?»

«Lazy. A survival type, but lazy. He doesn't start to use his brain until he's in obvious, overt trouble. But he's got pride.»

«Could the other one have talked him into it?»

«I suppose so.»

There was an uncomfortable silence.

«Well,» said Warren, «it's too bad. What'll we do with them?»

Bellamy looked unhappily down at me. He couldn't see my eyes behind the goggles, not in the dim cave light. «They could be found half-eaten. By one of those big hopping things, say. The ones that prey on the gray plains herbivores.»

«The carnivore that did it would be poisoned. It would have to be found nearby.»

«Right.» Bellamy pondered. «It's vital that there be no evidence against us. If we tried to square a murder rap in the contract, they'd chivvy our price down to nothing. You were bright to use the sonic. A mercy needle would have left chemicals.»

A small, sharp rock was pressing against the side of my neck. It itched. If I was planning to leap to my feet from this ridiculous position, I couldn't delay too long. Sooner or later I'd reach to scratch. Sooner or later Bellamy or Warren would notice the butts of Emil's altered police stunners and know them for what they were.

«First we need a plains carnivore,» said Warren. «Do you think we can starve it into —»

Lloobee leapt.

He was five yards from the man who was guarding him at the back of the cave. The man fired instantly, and then he screamed and tried to dodge. The Kdatlyno slammed into him and knocked him sliding across the floor.

I didn't see any more. I was running. I heard panicky shouting and then Bellamy's roar: «Relax, you idiot. He was unconscious before he left the ground.» And Warren's, «Relax, hell! Where's Shaeffer?»

I barely remembered to pull the trigger cord on Bellamy's booby trap. The cave entrance was long and low, sloping upward. I took it at a crouching run. Behind me was more confusion. Could the first man through have pulled the trigger cord again? That would give me time I needed.

Outside the cave I turned sharp right. The winding, half-exposed roof was almost Emil's height. I went over it like a spider monkey and then under it, hiding under its protective bulk.

CY Aquarii was directly behind me, minutes from sunset. Its white light threw a sharp black shadow along the side of the root.

I started crawling uphill, staying in the shadow. Two sets of pelting footsteps followed me from the other side of the root.

Voices came from below, barely audible. They didn't sound like a search in progress. Why not? I looked back and saw no pursuit. Halfway up the hill I slid out of my blue falling jumper, tucked it as far under the root as it would go, and went on, thinking kindly thoughts about tannin pills. Now I'd be all but invisible if I stayed in the shadows. All but my white hair.

Why had Lloobee made that grandstand play? It was as if he'd read my mind. He must have known there was no chance of escape for him. But I'd have had no chance without his diversion. Had he known I was conscious?

Could Kdatlyno read minds?

At the top of the hill I stopped in a cleft between two huge roots. The magenta tree seemed much too small to need all that root area, but the sunlight was rich, and maybe the soil was poor. And the roots would hide me.

But where were my pursuers?