"There." She stepped back, dropping her hands. "You finished with my knife?"
"I'm keeping it."
"Keeping it?" Her voice rose in a shriek of protest. "Stealing it, you mean. First you kill my man then you rob me. Why stop there? Why not kill me too? Go ahead, you vicious young swine. Kill me. Kill me, I dare you!" Her face changed as he lifted the blade. "No! No, I didn't mean that!"
"How do you sharpen it?"
"What?"
"How do you sharpen it? With a stone or a file? If you have a file I want that too."
"A stone," she said bitterly, "I haven't a file. Not now. He sold it for a bottle. You might find another in the ruins." She watched as he moved about the cave. "What are you doing now? Robbing me some more?"
"I need clothes."
Clothes and food and something to carry it in. Water and a container for that too. A blanket against the cold of night and coverings for his feet to protect them against the stones. All the things which an adult had and which he had been denied because he was a child. But he was a child no longer. He had killed and was now a man.
And would leave and walk toward the east and live how he could.
Ten years old-a native of Earth.
The captain had an old, lined face with tufted eyebrows and a pinched nose set above a firm-lipped mouth. His skin was creped, mottled and pouched beneath the eyes. Thin hair graced a rounded skull. His hands toyed with a scrap of agate as they rested on his lap.
"Your name, boy?" He nodded as it was given. "Well, Earl, so you decided to stowaway. A mistake."
Dumarest said nothing.
"A bigger mistake than I think you realize. It is my duty to evict you into the void."
"To kill me, sir?"
"To punish you for having broken the regulations. You understand? Stowaways can't be encouraged, so to stop them we punish them when discovered. We didn't ask them to come aboard and they haven't paid for passage so we dump them as unwanted cargo." The eyes, deep-set beneath the tufted brows, watched him as the captain spoke. "You aren't afraid?"
"Of death, sir? Yes."
"Of course you are. Even the young fear death and you are how old? Ten? Eleven?"
"Yes, sir."
"Yes, what? Ten or eleven?"
"Eleven, sir-I think. Or I could be twelve."
"Aren't you sure?"
"No, sir." Dumarest looked at the man. "Does it matter?"
"Earth!" The captain made a spitting sound. "You poor little bastard!"
"Sir?"
"Forget it. I meant no insult. You've no family, of course? No kin. Nowhere to go and nothing to do when you get there. What the hell could you lose by stowing away? How were you to know you were committing suicide?"
Dumarest made no comment, watching the movements of the hands as they toyed with the scrap of agate, the stone carved he saw now in the shape of a figure, a woman depicted with her knees updrawn to the chin, back and buttocks and thighs all blending in a continuous curve. The stone was worn with much handling.
"What am I to do with you?" muttered the captain. "Kill you, a boy? Toss you into the void because you acted from ignorance? Dump you like excreta into space? Were you born for such an end? Was anyone? Damn it, what to do?"
The stone slipped as he passed it from one hand to another, bounced on a knee and dropped to the deck. Dumarest caught it an inch before it landed.
"Sir!" He handed it to the man. Then saw the expression in the fading eyes, the lined face. "Sir?"
"Do you always move as fast as that?"
"It was falling and I didn't want it to get broken."
"So you lunged forward, stooped and caught it. Just like that." The captain tossed the carving into the air, caught it, tucked it into a pocket. "I've decided, lad. Are you willing to work hard? To learn? Damn it, I'll take a chance. You can work your passage. It's going to be a long trip and you'll work hard but, at least, you'll be fed."
Fed and rested and taught and one journey stretched to another and more after that until the captain had died and he'd moved on. Traveling deeper into the heart of the galaxy where stars were close and worlds plentiful. Into regions which had forgotten the world of his birth. Where the name of Earth was cause for amusement, the planet itself assumed to be a figment of legend.
"You understand why," said the captain. He had returned and was smiling. "No ships, nothing in the almanacs, no star guides, no coordinates. You're looking, Earl, but you are the only one convinced you have something to find."
"I'll find it."
"Yes." The man sobered. "Yes, Earl, you will. What else do you have to live for? But this," he gestured with a hand. "You know what all this is about?"
"I do."
"You'd better be sure of that."
"I am. I'm here to find Iduna."
"Yes," said the captain. "To find Iduna. So don't get yourself lost in the past. Childhood is over. And don't waste time in dreams-you have a job to do." His face wavered and began to blur. "You can call on me if ever you want someone to talk with."
"I know."
"Don't forget now. Don't forget."
And then he was gone.
Chapter Five
The wind was too strong creating turbulences which caught the raft and forced her to grip the rails to maintain her balance. From the thick mass of clouds lightning stabbed at the peaks, illuminating the mountains with bursts of savage radiance; electronic fire which gave the scene an unreal appearance as if it were a painting made by an insane artist. A harsh and brutal panorama yet one holding a raw beauty Kathryn could appreciate. For too long she had remained cooped behind walls. It was good to get out and feel the surge of elemental forces stirring her blood.
"My lady!" Shamarre lifted her voice above the wind. "We should drop. Drop!" She frowned as Kathryn shook her head.
The driver made the decision, dropping the raft and sending it heading away from the mountains and the dangerous air. An act she justified with a lifted hand pointing to a cluster of rafts high above.
Tamiras at work.
The vehicles were the largest available, cargo-carriers now filled with equipment and bales of prepared chemicals. Even as she watched they separated to climb high into the cloud, there to spray their loads of minute crystals which would trigger the reaction for the masses to release their water content in rain which would do little harm here over the mountains.
A hope and one he hadn't bolstered, shaking his head even as accepting the commission.
"We can try," he said bluntly, "All it will take is money for chemicals, but it could be money wasted. The formations are wrong. My other idea holds more promise."
To create energy fields in the atmosphere and use them as sweeps to push the clouds from sensitive areas. Brooms in the sky to brush away storms. If nothing else the man had audacity.
Kathryn glanced to where he had vanished in the clouds with his team. Men who followed him with a blind faith she could envy. Now they were willing to risk their lives because he led the way. Women would have been a little more cautious. They would have wanted safeguards and an assessment of the odds and would base their decisions on calculated probabilities. A trait which was regarded as admirable but which lacked a certain romance. Would she have been willing to ride into the nexus of a brewing storm knowing that, at any moment, naked fury could blast her into drifting atoms?
"My lady!" Shamarre was uneasy. Her broad face was lined with anxiety and her eyes were never at rest as they scanned earth and sky for signs of danger. Never comfortable in the air, she longed for dirt beneath her feet. "The storm-"