protective copper before climbing up to the cave on a suspended rope. The only precaution he could take and he hoped it would be enough.
'Tomorrow,' said Vardoon. 'Well start as soon as it's safe and work all-out. A fresh void means lots of eggs and we can go back to town for more supplies and a new raft. Then back again for more!'
Greed reflected itself in Vardoon's voice, his eyes, but left Dumarest unaffected. Once back in town and the ardeel converted to money he would be on the next ship to leave Sacaweena,
'What are you going to do with it, Earl? Your share, I mean. How are you going to use the money?'
'Keeping snug,' said Dumarest. 'Keeping fed. Keeping cool!'
'A planet of solid ice. Right?'
Dumarest nodded and drained his cup. 'Any of that brandy left?' As Vardoon poured he said, 'And you, Hart? How are you going to spend a fortune?'
'On a game.' Vardoon smiled as he met Dumarest's eyes. 'The best and biggest game I know.'
'One that takes money?'
'All the damn money I can get. And we'll get it, Earl, you and me. You're lucky and it rubs off. I knew that back on Polis when we both survived. You've proved it here on Sacaweena. You know how many have seen a female vrek void? You could count them on one hand. Can you guess how many eggs are out there? What they will bring? Luck, Earl, you can't beat it. Here, drink to luck.'
Dumarest watched as brandy slopped into his cup, more into Vardoon's. He said, 'Luck? I'll drink to that.'
The spirit burned as he sipped, worked fast on Vardoon as he gulped. Euphoria accentuated by intoxication; emotion which yielded a growing relaxation and overwhelming sense of achievement. He was safe, the ardeel as good as won, fortune his together with all it meant. He drank to celebrate, nerves relaxing even more, voice thick with a mounting lassitude, the inevitable reaction from tension maintained too long, fears harbored too deep.
'Luck,' he said, 'Luck and money, Earl, you ever think how the two run together? Have one and you have both. Luck and money and all it can buy and there's damned little it can't. We'll cash in and come back for another load and another until we have it all. All the ardeel and all the money anyone could ever want.' Lifting the bottle he blinked at what was left. 'That all? What the hell-let's finish it!'
As the last drained into his cup Dumarest said, 'What do you want all that money for, Hart? You want a planet too? One of solid ice?'
'No.'
'Then why?'
'I told you.' Vardoon swayed where he squatted, eyes filmed, suddenly dull. 'I need it to play a game. A game- and the more I have the better my chances. I need it, Earl! Damn you, I need it!'
'Easy, Hart. You'll get it.'
'We'll get it, Earl. You and me. Together.'
'That's right.'
'Let's drink to it.' Vardoon tilted his cup over his mouth. 'Tired,' he muttered as, empty, he lowered it. 'Too tired to argue. Sleep, Earl. I must have sleep.'
Dumarest watched as he slid to one side, legs straightening, eyes closing, one arm lifting to pillow his head as if he had been a child. Within seconds his breathing became even, shallow, eyelids twitching to signal his dreams.
The bottle lay at hand and Dumarest lifted it, poured the contents of his cup back into the container. A draught for Vardoon in the morning when he would need it. Rising, he left the tent and prowled the narrow confines of the cave, nostrils twitching to acid, acrid odors but missing any trace of insect stench. Back within the tent it was a joy to fill his lungs, a pleasure to sit and pour himself a cup of cold tisane. Vardoon moved as he finished it, muttering, turning, restless in his sleep. A man dangerous in his greed.
Luck still rode with them; the raft was undamaged. Vardoon gusted his relief as he saw the ring of shattered stone blotched with shining copper; debris torn from the hill above the ledge which had remained intact at the cost of the metal.
'It's our day, Earl. Nothing can go wrong now. Let's get at it!'
Together they rode up the slope of the hill, Dumarest handling the controls, frowning at the poor response. The spot where the vrek had voided her eggs was high, seamed with cracks too narrow to provide safe holds. A row of pitons hammered into the wall above provided anchors for suspended ropes, more holding the raft close to the rock. An uneasy union with the craft lifting and dropping as the compensators overreacted.
'No point in eating,' said Vardoon. 'If we vomit it'll be a waste of good food.' He studied the wall from his seat in the raft. 'How do we handle it? From the inside out or from the edges in?'
'Inside out,' said Dumarest. 'We don't know just where the edges are.'
'And, inside, we're certain of a good crop.' Vardoon, reached for one of the ropes. 'I'll take the upper region while you take the lower. Keep at it, Earl-and don't miss any.'
They were thick in the cracks and on the rock itself. Suspended from a rope, Dumarest inched his way over the sheer wall of stone, sweating, cramped in the hampering confines of his suit. Each egg had to be carefully pried free with the tip of his knife and placed in the pouch at his waist. Small, little larger than a pea, the yoke forming the actual pearl. When stripped of its outer membrane the inner skin would harden and contract to form a golden sphere.
Potential life, clinging to the sun-warmed stone, stimulated by electronic discharges to grow and take shape and hatch from the egg. Larvae of some kind which would follow the metamorphoses leading to the creation of fully grown adult vreks. How many would survive?
Few, he knew, but that was the way of nature; to be wastefully liberal with life-seed. As a human male gushed millions of spermatozoa at ejaculation to fertilize a single egg.
Had these been fertilized?
Dumarest paused, looking up to where Vardoon had moved a little to one side. His helmet was open and his hands worked with mechanical precision as he freed eggs to thrust into his pouch.
'Hart!'
'What is it?' Vardoon didn't look down. 'If you're worried about my helmet being open, forget it. The air's clean.'
Sweet, free of chemical odors and metallic taints, the wind blew gently from the south. Dumarest opened his own helmet and felt the sweat dry on his face.
'Hart, what happens if these aren't stripped?'
'The eggs? They'd hatch, I guess. Why?' He ceased work to answer his own question. 'There's no point in thinking of breeding them, Earl. It's been tried. You need special conditions-hell, we're wasting time!'
'One more thing; how do you tell if they're fertile?'
'You can't.' Vardoon scrabbled a boot on the stone as he swung to a new position. 'But why worry about it? Come on, Earl, quit wasting time!'
When the sun was halfway to zenith Dumarest called a halt, insisting the other man join him in the raft for rest and water. Vardoon drank greedily, face mottled, streaked with sweat.
'A dream,' he said as he lowered the canteen. 'A fortune lying right before our very eyes. How the hell can you just sit here, Earl?'
'How many eggs did you ruin in the past fifteen minutes?'
'What?' Vardoon scowled, then shrugged. 'Too many, but does it matter? There're plenty more.'
'And if you get careless, slip and fall, what then?' Dumarest leaned back against the side of the raft. Its motion was like that of a ship at sea. 'It's a long way to the bottom but maybe the eggs will cushion the impact.'
'I get it.' Vardoon rubbed his chin, squinted up at the sky. 'Move slower, take things easier-that it?'
'Pace yourself,' said Dumarest. 'We've a lot of rock to cover before noon.'
'Noon?'
'That's right.'
'You thinking of leaving at noon? No way, Earl. Hell, man, we stay until the rock is stripped clean.'
Vardoon's decision but if he stayed he would be alone. Dumarest said, 'Let's not argue about it. Want to sponge down in the tent?'
'No, but I'm getting out of this damned suit!' Vardoon looked at the hand Dumarest clamped on his arm. 'Earl?'
