'Take the barge up-quick!' He pointed the gun. The pilot, a beady-eyed little man with a thin, dark face cast a startled look over his shoulder. Barch said, 'Quick-up!'
The pilot turned reluctantly to the controls. 'I must follow my schedule, or the dispatcher will-'
'You're a dead man,' growled Barch, 'unless we're moving up right now!' He jabbed hard with the gun barrel. 'Up!'
'We're going up!' said the pilot peevishly.
'Faster!' Barch looked over the side. 'Now, back the way you came.'
The barge swept away from the quarry. 'Now-out with those side lights,' said Barch.
'I'm not allowed to,' protested the pilot. 'It's punishable offense.'
Barch grinned, tapped him on the back of the skull with the gun barrel. 'Out with the lights!' He looked quickly over his shoulder. 'Any crew aboard?'
'No crew. I load at Phrax District chemical complex, discharge at the warehouse.'
'What's your cargo?'
'Explosives, general supplies.'
Barch heard footsteps: Kerbol looked in.
'All in order?'
'Nobody aboard.'
'Good.' Barch backed out of the dome, motioned Kerbol in. 'You steer him; you know the lay of the land.'
Barch went over by the edge of the barge, looked out into the darkness. Step one. Achievement. He felt the bulwark-cold hard metal, the same hard metal which one day would lift him clear of Magarak out into great space.
CHAPTER VII
The barge slid up the slopes of Mount Kebali. The sounds of the quarry faded; the lights contracted to a tight cluster. The sea of trembling luminescence, the factories, furnaces, mills and yards of Quodaras District now lay astern.
Barch circled the catwalk, looked into the dome. 'Faster!' The barge lurched under his feet; he staggered back into the cargo. The craft has quite a power plant, he thought-all to the good if they reached space.
Moisture suddenly sprayed his face; they were driving through fine rain. He stumbled up into the lee of the dome.
The rain stopped, the barge broke out of the mist into a biting wind. Palkwarkz Ztvo lay below, a dark wilderness. Barch strained his eyes for the wan flicker of light. Like a faint star at the horizon, it eluded him. He put his head into the dome, asked Kerbol, 'Can you see our light?'
Kerbol pointed. 'There.' He nudged the pilot. 'Land beside that light.'
'Impossible,' muttered the pilot. 'We are over Palkwarkz Ztvo-wild-man country. They'll put us in their pots.'
'No, they won't,' said Barch. 'Land beside the light.'
The barge sank. Blackness reached up past them; there was a crash, a snapping of foliage. The raft reached ground.
Barch looked warily out into the darkness. All was quiet. He turned to the pilot. 'Get out.'
The pilot hesitated, clinging to the protection of his dome. 'What are you going to do with me?'
'Nothing.'
The pilot jumped, made a quick dash for the underbrush. Barch tackled him around the knees; both fell into the soggy humus. Barch rose, seized the man by the collar of his jacket, marched him back past the barge, up the slope. Kerbol came after like a stealthy gray bear.
Barch entered the hall with the pilot. The entire tribe was huddled around the great table talking heatedly; Barch stood watching the play of firelight on the un-Earthly features.
There was a hiss, the talk halted; faces swung around as if operated by a lever.
Barch gave the pilot to Kerbol. 'Lower him into one of the potholes on a rope.' He turned back to the big table. 'We've two or three hours work outside. Let's get it over with. Bring out your knives and axes.'
There was uneasy movement, slow uncomfortable rising to the feet. Barch watched impassively.
Flatface said in a surly voice, 'Work is for daytime. This is night. Let the work wait.' The others watched anxiously, poised and uncertain as rabbits.
This was the first test, the most important. Barch made no sudden move. He waited, let the suspense build up. Flatface nervously glanced at Barch's gun. Barch said softly, 'Where is your axe, Flatface?'
Flatface motioned to the wall. 'There it lies.'
Flatface slowly gained his feet. Barch jumped two quick steps forward. There was a startled swaying back. 'Everybody! Outside!' He took the two lamps, went to the entrance, waited while the tribesmen filed out past him.
In the lamplight the barge was a large dark shape, vastly more impressive than words Barch could have used inside the cave. 'There's your spaceship.'
The tribesmen muttered with awe, excitement.
'Tomorrow we'll unload the cargo, but tonight we've got to cover it over with branches so it can't be seen from above.'
Barch pulled himself up from his couch with the first glimmer of light. He pulled on the Modok smock, went out to inspect the barge. It seemed to fill half the flat, like a whale in the front yard.
To check the camouflage he mounted the raft, floated up into the sky. The forest was a matted black tangle, the barge an extension of the same tangle. Satisfied, he dropped back to the ground.
It was essential that the Klau remained ignorant of his plans. He must avoid giving them provocation. In one sense, killing the Klau yesterday was a mistake. But it had been necessary-an act which had given him an aura of power that killing Clet ten times would have failed to do. In the future he might have to back down on some of his fire-eating threats. Avoid the Podruods as best as possible; fight if cornered.
He circled the barge. The seamless hull rose four feet over his head. He tried to visualize a super-structure, and achieved only the picture of a deck-house on a sea-going freighter.
He climbed aboard. About half the cargo was crates of various sizes. Toward the bow lay four bundles of heavy pipe, a half-dozen mechanisms, apparently drill torches, a dozen spools of smooth cable. A good haul, thought Barch. He revised his mental picture from a deck-house to a dome of air-tight fabric over the barge, held down against air pressure by a net of cables.
He jumped to the ground, returned to the hall. Standing by the fire, he watched the women set out pots of gruel to boil.
Kerbol came blinking into the room, followed by the dour woman who was his mate. Barch felt a sudden sense of warmth, companionship. He had at least one friend in Palkwarkz Ztvo.
After breakfast he took Kerbol out to the barge, to inspect the cargo. Kerbol snapped open a crate marked with black and red symbols; inside were cannisters the size of apples.
'Those are abiloid,' said Kerbol, 'a slow explosive. This' -he opened a smaller crate, which held dense semi- metallic bars supported on a red plastic rack-'is super.'
'Super-what?'
Kerbol shrugged. 'Super is what they call it at the quarry. A small cut of super is equal to ten crates of abiloid. But it's fast. It smashes. Abiloid pushes.'
'I hope you can detonate them.'
Kerbol picked out one of the cans of abiloid, touched a wisp of thread. 'This is the three minute timer. To detonate the super, you set it under a can of abiloid.'
'It's all yours,' said Barch. 'There are you torches. Pick yourself a helper and open out Big Hole.'
Barch returned to the cave, sent Flatface out in charge of a hunting crew.
At noon Kerbol reported the cave wall ready for firing. Barch doubtfully eyed the sky. Fog was creeping down
