'For a little longer.' The navigator rose, his face drawn, determined. 'But not for too long. I command the
Dumarest said, 'We are partners, Jarv. Sufan Noyoka leads this expedition.'
'Then why doesn't he accept the obvious? It's our lives as well as his. Acilus is dead-how many more must follow him? Without equipment we haven't a chance. No, Earl, I've decided. One more day and then I leave.'
A threat he might have carried out had he been allowed, but when the blue sun rose and the yellow sank he was dead.
* * *
Dumarest heard the cry and was running, catching Usan Labria as she fell, following the finger of her pointing hand.
'Earl,' she gasped. 'I found him. The navigator-under that bush.'
She was quivering, her lips blue, pain contorting her raddled features. Dumarest passed her to Timus as he came running, Marek at his side.
'Earl?'
'Take her back to the ship. Get hold of Pacula, she knows what to do.'
'And Jarv?'
'I'll see what's wrong.'
There was nothing he could do. The man sat with his back against a bole, his head slumped forward down on his chest, one hand clenched at his side, the other open, the pomander lying an inch from his fingers. Dumarest halted Marek as he moved forward.
'Wait. Look around. See if you can spot tracks of any kind.'
'On this moss?'
'The stems could be broken. Look.'
A heavy weight would have left an impression but nothing could be found aside from the marks of the navigator's footprints and those left by Usan and themselves. Dumarest quested in a wide circle, frowning as he rejoined Marek.
'Nothing?'
'No.'
'Which means nothing jumped him from the vegetation,' mused Marek. 'He must have come out here to sit, maybe to think and plan, resting his back against the bole and then something happened. But what? There seems to be no sign of a struggle. Poison of some kind? Those blooms, Earl! The bush he is under bears blossom. Could they have emitted a lethal vapor of some kind?'
'Perhaps.' Dumarest glanced at the sky. This world was strange, beneath the varying influence of the suns anything could happen. 'Be careful now, don't get too close.'
Holding his breath he lifted the dead man's face. It was tranquil, the open eyes glazed, the lips slightly parted. The skin was cool and a little moist. Death had come quickly.
Marek said, 'Shall we bury him, Earl?'
'If you want to, go ahead.'
'And you?'
'I've work to do in the ship.'
A plan he had made and devices he and the engineer had worked on while the others rested. The navigator was dead-left or buried, to him it was the same, but the living still faced a problem.
'Do you think they'll work, Earl?' Timus looked dubiously at what they'd made; soft hemispheres of rubber backed by a stronger layer and fitted with loops. Gekko pads to fit to wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles, any six of the suction cups sufficient to hold his weight.
'It's a chance,' said Dumarest. 'The wall is smooth and the cups should hold if we figured right.'
'If they don't we're stuck, Earl. I don't know what else we can do. Jarv was right in a way. We need rafts and special equipment. Sufan Noyoka should have thought about it Well, it's too late now, but maybe Jarv had the right idea. You burying him?'
'Marek's seeing to it.' Dumarest anticipated the obvious question. 'No sign of what killed him, but he went peacefully.'
'His heart must have given out.' Timus rubbed his hand over his chin. 'He was always sniffing at that pomander and it was only a matter of time before the drugs got him. 'Two down,' he said. 'And it's my guess the old woman will be next.'
Pacula was with her, sitting beside the cot, bathing the raddled face with water. Usan's breathing was labored, her fingers twitching, plucking at her dress. Weakly she tried to smile.
'Age, Earl. It's beating me. Jarv?'
'Dead and being buried. His heart must have given out. There was no sign of any attack.' Dumarest touched the woman's throat, his fingers resting on the pulse. 'We don't want you going the same way. It would be best for you to sleep for a while. Pacula?'
'I'll see to it. Earl.'
'No!' Usan clenched her hands, eyes brimming with tears at her own weakness. 'Damn this body! I don't want to sleep. I want to see what's in the city.'
'If we manage to get inside you'll be with us. That's a promise.'
'You're kind,' she whispered. 'I'll hold you to that. But can you get inside?'
Dryly he said, 'There's only one way to find out.'
Sufan Noyoka's dry voice issued a list of instructions as they headed toward the wall.
'Remember to fix the rope as soon as you reach the top, Earl. Make no attempt to get into the city until I am with you. Are you armed?'
'He's armed.' Timus handed Dumarest a machine gun. 'Hang this around your neck, Earl. It's cocked and ready to fire on full automatic.'
Dumarest weighed it in his hand then handed it back.
'I'll pull it up if and when I reach the top,' he said. 'I've enough weight to carry as it is.'
His own body, the pads, the rope wrapped around his waist, the grapnel swinging between his shoulders. Reaching the foot of the wall he looked upward. Every spot was the same and one was as good as another. As the others watched he stepped close to the smooth expanse, lifted his arms, slammed the pads against the wall, followed with a leg. With the pads holding he lifted his free leg and set it higher than the other. Then an arm pulled free, lifted and made fast. The other leg. The other arm. A leg again.
Slowly, sprawled hard against the wall, each limb moving in turn, he inched upward.
He could see nothing but the wall inches from his eyes, feel nothing but the drag at his arms, the awkward twist of his legs. Each time he freed a pad meant a cautious twisting, to fasten them a careful movement Sweat began to run from his forehead into his eyes and he felt the clammy touch of it beneath his clothing.
Grimly he climbed on, inches at a time, muscles aching in thighs and groin, cramps threatening his shoulders and calves.
From below came the encouraging voice of the engineer.
'Keep going, Earl! You're doing fine!'
'How high am I?'
'Maybe thirty feet!'
Less than a third of the distance covered. Thirty feet out of a hundred and already the strain of hauling his body up the sheer wall was beginning to tell. Pausing, Dumarest hung to rest, turning his head to see the sea of vegetation, the ship rearing against the sky. The light from the suns was dazzling, reflected from the wall it hurt his eyes. Closing them he released one leg, flexing it to ease the strain.
'Up!' snapped Sufan Noyoka. 'Earl, what are you waiting for?'
Dumarest made no answer, easing each limb in turn, then doggedly continued to climb. At sixty feet progress slowed, the pads seeming to slip, and after another five feet he was sure of it. Watching, he placed his arm into position, heaved, saw the attachments move down the wall as if they glided on oil.
Cautiously he moved to one side, tried to climb again but with no better result. Tilting his head he looked at the top of the wall. He was two-thirds of the way up, a little more and he would be home, but the last few feet were impossible to cover.
