about her shoulders. Suffused by her femininity it was hard to remember she was blind, that she couldn't see his face, his expression. That she knew him only as an aura distinguished by the metal he wore, the knife he carried.
'Earl!'
'I'm sorry.' He eased the grip of his arm, a constriction born of protective tenderness. 'Did I hurt you?'
'A little, but it was nice.' She spoke with a warm softness. 'Nice to feel you close to me, Earl. I feel safe when you are. Less afraid.'
'Still afraid, Embira?'
'It's this place, this world. It is so empty and the sky so threatening. Will we be leaving soon?'
'Yes, soon.'
'And then, Earl?' She waited for the answer she hoped to hear, one he could not give. 'Will you stay with me? Will you?'
'For as long as necessary, Embira.'
'I want you to stay with me for always. I never want to be without you. Earl, promise me that you will stay!'
'You should rest, Embira. You must be tired.'
'And you?'
Deliberately he mistook her invitation. 'I've work to do, Embira. I'm going to examine the area around the ship.'
* * *
He walked a mile in a direct line from the city, cutting a path when the vegetation grew too dense, pausing often to listen, dropping at times to rest his ear against the ground. The stillness was complete.
A heavy, brooding silence which was unnatural. The vegetation provided good cover for game and there should have been small animals if not larger beasts, but he saw nothing, not even the trails such animals would have made. The air, too, was devoid of birds and he could spot no sign of insects. The bushes must be hybrids, propagating from roots alone, the flowers and fruits an unnecessary byproduct.
He cut one open and sniffed at the succulent mass of orange pulp. As he'd expected, it was seedless. The blooms were the size of his opened hand, waxen petals of a pale amber laced with black. Like the fruits they had no discernible odor.
The result of intensive cultivation, he decided, or a freak mutation which had spread to become dominant. The moss would be a saprophyte, feeding on decaying leaves fallen from the bushes. Dead animals would also provide food, and in the past perhaps, the moss had not waited for the beasts to die.
Back at the ship Dumarest learned a decision had been reached.
'Acilus is going to use explosives.' Marek gestured toward the city. 'He's taken Timus and Jarv with him and all are loaded with charges.'
'The captain overrode my authority.' Sufan Noyoka radiated his anger. 'The man is a fool. Who knows, what damage he might do? What treasures might be lost? Earl, if we could talk?'
He led Dumarest to one side, out of earshot of Marek and the two women who stood at the open port. Embira, asleep, was in her cabin.
'I am worried about the captain, Earl,' said Sufan quickly. 'He holds the loyalty of the crew. If he should break into the city he might forget that I command this expedition.'
'So?'
'Remember why you are here. The women will obey you-Marek too, perhaps-but if it comes to the need for action strike first and strike hard.' The man bared his teeth, his face grown ugly. 'I will not be cheated by greedy fools!'
'As yet you haven't been.'
'No, but I am aware of the possibility. Go after them, Earl. If they breach the wall make them wait. I must be the first into the city.'
As was his right, and Dumarest was content to let another be the target for any unexpected danger. As he strode down the hacked path Marek fell into step behind him.
'We tested the wall, Earl,' he said. 'While you were away. It is adamantine. Acilus hopes to penetrate it with shaped charges but I doubt if the ship carries enough to do the job.' Pausing, he added, 'They are armed.'
With the weapons carried in the hold-the captain would have thought of that. Guns to kill anything in the city- or anyone who tried to stop him. Dumarest halted at the edge of the wide clearing. Against the wall Acilus was setting packages, Timus at his rear, the navigator to one side. Their voices carried through the still air.
'Set another just above the first. Not there, Jarv, you fool, there!'
'A heavy charge, Captain.'
'We could need it. The detonators?'
'Here.' Small in the distance Timus held them out, watched as Acilus thrust them home.
'The fuse,' he rapped. 'Quickly.'
There was no obvious need for speed, but Dumarest guessed the loom of the blank wall must have unnerved him, the impression of watching eyes. He saw flame spring from the captain's hand, more flame sparkle from the length of black fuse.
'That's it. Now run!'
Dumarest joined them as they reached the trail, following as they ran to the mound, dropping behind its shelter. Marek dropped beside him. The engineer, panting for breath, said, 'Fifty seconds. I've been counting. In less than a minute it will blow.'
'Why didn't you use an electronic detonator?'
'We tried, Earl, it didn't work. Don't ask me why. I wanted to rig a launcher but the captain was impatient.' Timus glanced to where Acilus crouched like an animal on the ground. 'When he gets that way you can't argue with him. Thirty seconds.'
A time unnecessarily short but one which dragged. Jarv Nonach wheezed, sniffed at his pomander, stared up at the sky.
'Five seconds.' He frowned as they passed. 'Minus three if I've counted right.'
A navigator was accustomed to check the passage of time as a runner was of distance. His frown increased as still the charges didn't blow.
'Thirty seconds, Captain. You sure you set the detonators correctly?'
'Shut your mouth!' Acilus's tone revealed his doubt. 'We'll give it a while longer.'
Another three minutes during which his patience became exhausted.
'Give me another fuse and some more detonators,' he snapped. 'I'll fix this.'
'No!' Dumarest rose to catch his arm. 'Don't be a fool, man! Give it more time. What are you using, impact charges?'
'Safety plastic,' said the engineer. 'You could shoot a gun at it and it still wouldn't explode.'
'Not if you hit a detonator?' Dumarest snatched the weapon from where it hung on the man's shoulder. 'At least it's worth a try.'
The gun was cheap, a rapid-fire light machine gun meant to be cradled in the arms, used to lay a rain of bullets without regard to accuracy. A short-range weapon good for street fighting but very little else. Dumarest lay on the summit of the mound, checked the sights, and fired a burst at the charges. He might as well have fired into empty air.
'You're wasting time,' said Acilus. ''You could shoot all day and never hit a thing. The fuse must have burned out. We'll have to fix another.'
Dumarest fired again with no better result. As the magazine emptied he said, 'Give me another.'
'No!' The captain knocked aside the gun Jarv held upward. 'We'll do it my way.'
'Why bother?' Marek was bland. 'There's a lot of wall,' he reminded. 'Why not move along it and try somewhere else?'
'No need. The charges are set If the fuse hadn't burned out-'
'You can't be sure it did.'
'To hell with you. I'm sure. Timus, Jarv, let's get at it!' Acilus sucked in his breath as neither moved. 'Get on your feet, damn you! That's an order!'
