Angado

each crew member sharing in the profits and all doing a double stint for the sake of a larger cut. The engine room reflected Sadoria's personality, a place thick with grime and plastered with lurid pictures. Only the generator looked clean.

Ryder frowned as he saw Angado kneeling beside it. He'd already removed one cover and was at work on a second.

Dumarest said, watching his eyes, 'How does it look so far? Bad? I thought it might be. Can you do anything with it? Good.' He looked at the captain. 'Do you want us to go ahead or would you rather wait for rescue?'

A loaded question. The radio beacon signaling the position of the vessel and calling for help emitted a wide- range broadcast but one now dampened and blocked by the bulk of the planet. Even if picked up there was no certainty of response. Rescue was determined by the possibility of recompense and, if too much trouble, was rarely attempted.

Ryder said, 'If you can repair it go ahead.'

'And?'

'We'll talk about that when it's done.'

'Before it's done,' said Dumarest. 'Passage for the both of us to your next world of landing and-'

'When it's done!' snarled Ryder. 'What's the good of haggling over something until we've got it?'

He stormed away, a man living on his nerves, one too close to bankruptcy to have the patience to argue. Rescue would ruin him but without it he was stuck on a hostile world. Dumarest was his only chance but he hated to admit it.

'He'll pay.' Angado looked up from the generator. 'He'll have no choice.'

'There's always a choice,' said Dumarest. 'Promises can be broken and a fee given can always be taken back. But if I press him hard then ease off he'll be too grateful to hold a grudge. He'll give us passage and what he can afford. It won't be much but he won't resent giving it.' He looked at the exposed interior of the generator. The components seemed undamaged but one unit showed a shimmering rainbow effect where it faced the others. 'Is that it?'

'If I said it wasn't?'

'You'd be a liar. Phase malfunction is confined to the similarity units. A burn-out would have left a deposit. An overload the same but in a different sector.'

'And power-pulse feedback?'

'The regulator takes care of that.'

'And if it doesn't?' Angado didn't wait for an answer. 'You're dead, that's what. Or drifting. You know a lot about generators, Earl. Where did you study?'

On ships and helped by a man long dead. Dumarest saw his face pictured on the shining surface of the generator units, multiplied by conduits, flat planes, distorted by convex swellings. The face of the captain of the first ship he had ever seen. One in which he had stowed away to be found, threatened with eviction, saved by an old man's kindly whim.

'Earl?'

'It doesn't matter.' Dumarest squeezed shut his eyes and shook his head to clear it of fogging memories. 'How long will you be?'

'As long as it takes.' Angado smiled as he gave a remembered answer to the question. 'As you told me on the plain.'

'Days? Weeks?'

'It's a matter of synchronization. That and balance of similarity. Nine nines is as good as we're ever going to get and we can't reach that without specialized equipment, which isn't here. Seven nines is good. Five nines is the least we can get away with. I'll have to use a mirror-reflection phaseometer and I'll need help to compute the trial-and-error readings. The first I can rig from what's available. The second?'

'I can manage that.'

'Good,' said Angado. 'Let's get to it.'

* * *

It had been raining and the streets of Anfisa held an unaccustomed shine. A gleam in which the drooping pennants showed like smeared patches of oily hues and the rounded domes with their spike ornamentations were reflected in a profusion of altered shapes so that the town seemed to be haunted by bizarre creatures of some undersea forest.

An association Avro didn't make as he stood at the window looking toward the distant field, the spot where his ship was resting. Where it had rested for days now after a journey in which three of the crew had died and two others had suffered irreparable damage to hearts and kidneys.

That sacrifice had been unnecessary and stood as a silent accusation.

What had gone wrong?

The Thorn was behind schedule and no message had been received to give the reason. Accident? Damage? A burst engine causing the vessel to drift helplessly in space between the stars?

Madness?

The possibilities were endless and to speculate a waste of mental energy. It was time to search out facts and to be more determined than before. The factor could have been careless or hiding the truth for reasons of his own. The Thorn, on a regular route, would have gained friends and backers who needed to protect their investment.

Avro saw a touch of scarlet in the street below. The flash of color vanishing as it was spotted. Minutes later Byrne knocked and entered the chamber.

'Master!' The acolyte bowed. 'I have-'

'News? What of the Thorn?'

Impatience displayed with an interruption; behavior so alien to normal procedure as to cause the acolyte to stand mute. A silent reproof Avro recognized as he knew the reason. Time had been wasted-Byrne could have been about to tell him what he had demanded to know. The interruption was a blatant display of inefficient conduct.

He said evenly, 'You may report.'

'Yes, Master.' This time there was no bow. 'I have gathered all available information from the field as you ordered. Nothing new has been gained but Cyber Ishaq arrived on the Panoyan as I was questioning Amontabo, the Hausi agent. Cyber Ishaq waits outside.'

He was too young, too ambitious, too eager to make his mark. Avro studied him as he walked forward to make his greeting, the bow almost perfunctory as if he resented the older man's superior rank. Yet, superficially, he was deferential.

'I was ordered to report to you and place myself at your disposal,' he said. 'It meant terminating my association with the Matriarch of Lunt. However, as I assured her, a replacement will be provided. I understand you are here to meet the Thorn.'

'That is so.' The information would have been relayed to Ishaq from Central Intelligence-but why hadn't he been told of the man's coming? Avro added, 'The ship is behind schedule. No reason has yet been given to account for the delay.'

'I can provide it. The vessel is under quarantine.'

'Quarantine?'

'It is now in closed orbit around this planet.' If Ishaq took a mental delight in displaying his superior knowledge he didn't show it. 'The information has been kept secret for obvious reasons. The suspicion of plague would create a panic and affect the financial welfare of this world.'

'How do you know this?'

'A radio message was picked up by one of our monitoring stations. A monk of the Church, Brother Jofre, was informing his superior of an incident that happened during flight. A sudden illness followed by the forced abandonment of two passengers. The superior must have informed the appropriate authorities.' Ishaq paused then added, 'It was something they dared not ignore.'

The Church had friends in high places and the Cyclan had long known of the net of communication built on the