Slaves of The Klau

the Magarak Brain already knew… Barch pulled out his gun. Tick was at the raft, tugging at the mooring line. He saw Barch, slid off into the forest, sprang into the trees like a monkey. Barch heard his shrill mocking laugh. 'Too late, too late, you'll see me nevermore.' And there was the rustle of branches, the clatter of black fronds.

Barch went to the raft, sank on it limply. He looked at the stump of his left arm; the gray cloth binding was sticky and dark. The bone ached intolerably.

He swung himself aboard the raft, untied the mooring line. Rising over the treetops, he coasted slanting down toward the river, the course Tick would presumably take. Underneath him the black fronds flapped and rasped, glistening like the scales of a great black fish. Tick was no more visible than if he had been an insect.

Barch lowered the raft to tree level, put his head over the side, listened. A soft crashing, not too far away. Barch manipulated the pedals; the raft slid like a shadow over the treetops. Barch stopped again. Silence. The sound might have been a wild animal. Directly below him Barch heard the crush of feet. He peered through the fronds, gun ready. But he didn't see Tick-he saw a Podruod.

Barch froze. The Podruod, walking as stealthily as his weight and the ground would allow, vanished.

Barch looked swiftly around the sky. Was this the Klau attack hehad expected? Down toward the valley came a sharp hoarse cry, a high-pitched babble in a voice Barch recognized as Tick's. A vibrant bugle call. Below him heavy footsteps pounded, the Podruod running toward the sounds. Barch relaxed. A hunt, and Tick was the quarry. Best take the raft back to the cave before the Klau hunter rounded the bluff.

Barch slid the raft into its accustomed spot, sat listening. The Podruod bugle calls sounded now up at the head of the valley. If Tick gained the wilderness of rocks at the foot of Mount Kebali, he stood a fair chance of escaping. But the trumpeting shifted, sounding ever louder. He's leading them to the cave, thought Barch. He limped painfully across the flat to the opening of the crevice, stood in the shadows.

Over the forest came the long black shape of the Klau raft, the Klau following the chase like a fox-hunter riding to the hounds. The raft came nearer. Barch could see the silhouette of the Klau.

Tick broke out of the forest, ran erratically along the edge of the flat, paused, looked with a passionate eagerness toward the cave. Afraid to come, afraid not to come, thought Barch. Well, give the poor devil a chance. He stepped out. 'Hey, Tick.' Tick looked up. 'Come on.'

Tick's face was a mask of indecision. His eyes ran fearfully around the clearing; then overhead came the Klau raft, long and black as a shark. Four Podruods burst out of the forest. Now Tick would have run for the cave but the Podruods cut him off. Barch stood back, silent, his gun ready. The Podruods came at Tick from four directions. Tick stood quiet, and Barch saw his frame grow rigid, his eyes start to pop from their sockets. Look out, Podruods, thought Barch.

Tick ran forward, seemed to run right up the chest of the nearest Podruod. He caught the great red head, set his feet against the chest, performed a peculiar churning motion. The head twisted in three-quarters of a circle; the body fell like a pole. Tick sprang free, raced, dodged, cut in and out. The Podruods lumbered back and forth, and finally Tick was caught. Podruods fell on him from all sides; mastiffs tearing at a badger. Tick was down. The Podruods stepped back, their feet swung up, down, with sodden sounds. Barch turned away.

Behind him he felt the pressure of bodies, heard awed murmurings. 'Quiet,' whispered Barch. 'Go up into Big Hole, tell them to be quiet.'

The Podruods at last stepped back, looked up at the raft. The Klau stretched lazily, sat up, stared around the flat. His gaze passed over the shadowed crevice; Barch felt the stab of the four-pronged red eyes. The eyes passed on; the bristling black head swung back to inspect the sky.

Black clouds were scudding across Mount Kebali. A few heavy drops of rain spattered on the leaves. The Podruods called up hoarsely, pointing to the clouds. The Klau ignored them. He waved his hand toward the upper valley. The Podruods shuffled sullenly into the forest.

The dead Podruod and the bloody tatter that had been Tick were left on the flat.

Rain started a tentative tattoo on the black fronds-drops big as marbles. The Klau touched a button and a hood snapped over his head. He moved his foot; the raft slid down over the valley.

Barch turned, pushed back into the hall. 'That solves the Tick problem.'

Komeitk Lelianr sat at the table, studiously intent at the locator-poring over the index, checking into the viewer.

Barch stood by the fire, absent-mindedly watching the firelight and changing colors across her skin.

Porridge bounded down the passage into the hall, trotted over to the fire, smelt appreciatively of the pot. Then, with a wary glance at Barch, he went to sit opposite Komeitk Lelianr.

After a moment he spoke to her; she looked up, answered briefly. Porridge darted a glance over his shoulder at Barch, spoke at some length. Barch's curiosity could hold out no longer. He crossed the stone floor, seated himself beside Porridge. 'How's the job coming?'

'Very well, very well indeed.'

'When do you think you'll be ready?'

Porridge considered. 'The deck is finished. Tomorrow we fix on the second barge. Next day we build on a double port. Then you can take the affair into space.'

'Is the double port necessary? I'd like to get away from here right away.'

'It's indispensable in the event of repair to the drive gear and also when refueling becomes necessary.'

'Oh.' Barch rubbed his chin. After a moment he said, 'Tonight I'll go out after the fuel, and-' he paused, glancing from Komeitk Lelianr back to Porridge. 'What's the trouble?'

'Nothing, nothing whatever,' said Porridge. He turned ostentatiously away. Komeitk Lelianr returned to the locator.

Barch asked her, 'Any luck?'

'No. Nothing definite. I have a tentative idea.'

The other Lenape came down from Big Hole, sat in a tight circle at the far bench. Porridge arose and joined them; an immediate clatter of voices arose.

Komeitk Lelianr said hesitantly, 'Why are you so anxious to locate the Brain?'

'When I find where it is I'll try to destroy it.'

Her eyes jerked up, met his. ' Roy -don't you think you should rest tonight?'

'Rest? I've got to get the fuel, accr, whatever it's called.' He stood up, glanced around the room. Eyes flickered away from his, backs were half-turned Barch sat down. 'What's wrong with everyone?'

Komeitk Lelianr's fingers moved nervously along the locator. 'They think you're tired.'

'Tired? Of course I'm tired! Why shouldn't I be tired, and everybody else for that matter? We can rest out in space.'

Komeitk Lelianr said in a low voice, 'They remember that Clet called you Crazy Man. '

Barch sat like an iron statue. 'So everybody thinks I'm crazy… I might have known. I saw Porridge giving me a couple of wall-eyed looks.'

Komeitk Lelianr said in a worried voice, 'He can't understand why you want to steal accr when there's enough in the cave to last twenty years.'

'Enough to last twenty years!'

'So he says.'

Barch slumped, exhaled a great breath. 'Where?'

'In Big Hole. In the crates. Kerbol called it super.'

Barch's face twitched; he could not choose between laughing or yelling. He forced himself to be calm. 'I never knew the stuff was accr. No one ever told me! Do you think I like ducking around through the fog, getting myself shot up?'

'No,' said Komeitk Lelianr hurriedly. 'No, no… But why are you so anxious to destroy the Brain?'

Barch, riding a heady wave of mingled anger and elation, said, 'Think. By now the Brain surely has enough facts to conclude that fugitive slaves are stealing barge-loads of material.'

'1 suppose so.'

'Any day we can expect to be attacked. If I can plant a bomb under the thing, I'll delay this attack a long time.'