"Yes." That answer was bald but Kartr saw no need to temper it.
"I take it that you were urged to — er — withdraw from contagion," Zinga drawled, leaning back and hooking his taloned fingers over his knees.
"That was part of it."
"How stupid can they get?" Rolth wanted to know. "If they want us to do their hunting, they must need food. And a bunch of these soft inner system men are not going to get much game by running out and beating the bushes. Instead of antagonizing us they ought to be making concessions."
"When did you ever know prejudice to act logically? And Jaksan seems to have agreed to this down-with-the-Bemmys plan, hasn't he?" Fylh's red eyes had gleams in them not very pleasant to see.
"I don't know what's happened to Jaksan," Kartr exploded. "And I don't care! It's what is going to happen to us which is more important right now — "
"You and Rolth," Fylh pointed out, "need not worry — "
Kartr jumped to his feet and took two strides across the room so that his green eyes were on a level and boring into those round red ones.
"That is the last time I ever want to hear anything like that! I told Jaksan and I shall tell Cummi — if it becomes necessary — that the rangers stand together."
Fylh's thin lips shut. Then the hard points of fire in his eyes softened. He made a small soothing gesture with his claws and when he spoke his voice was even again.
"What was Jaksan's reaction to your speech?"
"Just a lot of words. But it gave me an excellent chance of putting through our coming here together."
Zinga had arisen and was prowling around the room. "Done any more exploring, you two?" he asked Rolth. "What's the layout?"
"One more room beyond that archway on this floor. It has two windows both of which overhang Fylh's outside stairway. There is one large room immediately above this one and a third over that with a bathroom off. Believe it or not — the water is running in that!"
Kartr disregarded Zinga's exclamation of approval. "Only the one way in — unless someone climbs up the wall? Sure of that?"
"Yes. Of course they might descend upon us from the sky. But I hardly think we need fear that. And this door can be locked — watch — "
Rolth trod on a dull red block set in the floor. A door moved silently out of the right wall and sealed the entrance. On it was a metal plate and the Faltharian set his hand on it for an instant.
"Now try to get that open," he urged the sergeant.
But, even when Zinga and Fylh added their strength to his, Kartr was unable to force the door. Then Rolth stepped again on the stone and it opened easily.
"Fylh locked me out when we were exploring and we had a time finding out how to open it again. Tricky, the fellows who built that. It would take a full size disruptor to breach that."
"Which leads me to wonder if they do have one of those." Zinga put Kartr's thought into words.
But then that worry was blocked out for he sensed someone coming up the stairs. At the sergeant's signal the rangers melted away. Zinga was now flat against the wall beside the door where he could be at the back of anyone who entered before the stranger would know of his presence. Fylh lay belly down behind the pile of packs, and Rolth had drawn his blaster, standing a little behind the sergeant who waited, his good hand empty.
"Kartr!"
They knew the voice but they did not relax.
"Come in."
Smitt obeyed. He gave a start as Zinga materialized behind him. But there was a worried frown on his face and Kartr knew that he was no danger to them. For the second time the com-techneer had come to them because he was in trouble and not because he was an enemy.
"What is it?" asked the sergeant with very little welcome. After all Smitt was to be normally reckoned with Jaksan's forces.
"They're talking — a lot. They've said you rangers are too alien to be trusted."
"Well" — Kartr's lips curled back in what was not even a shadow of a smile — "I've heard that a good many times before and I can't see that we're any the worse for it."
"Maybe you weren't — before. But this Ageratan — he's — the man must be mad!" Smitt exploded. "I tell you" — his voice slid up the scale a little — "he must be raving mad!"
"Suppose," hissed Zinga, "you just sit down — over there where we can keep an eye on you — and tell us all about it."
8. Palace Revolution
"That's it I've practically nothing concrete to tell. It's just a kind of feeling — the way he persists in keeping us away from all but his own men. He has a guard — that Can-hound, a couple of jetmen from the X451, one of the officers, two intal planters, and three professional mercenaries. They're all armed — Control issue blasters and force blades. But I haven't heard of or seen any of the other officers from the X451. And Cummi's taken over — gives commands to us! Dalgre and Snyn were sent to join his techneers and help run the city. Ordered to do so, mind you — and they Patrolmen! And Jaksan didn't make any objection."
"And what about you — has he drafted you yet?" asked Rolth.
"Luckily I wasn't there when they came hunting techneer recruits. Look here — how does he dare give orders to the Patrol?" There was honest bewilderment in Smitt's voice.
For the second time Kartr explained. "Better get it into your head, Smitt, that as far as you, and Cummi, and the rest of us are concerned, the Patrol has ceased to exist. We've nothing to back up any show of authority — he has. That is just why — "
"You argued against our coming here?" Smitt's lips thinned. Kartr felt the other's rage. "Well, you were right! I know you rangers don't feel the same about the Service as we crewmen do. You've always been independent cusses. But my father died on the barricades at the Altra air locks — one of the rear guard who held their posts long enough for the survivors' ships to leave. And my grandfather was second officer of the Promixa dreadnaught when she tried to reach Andromeda. We've served five generations in the Patrol. And may I be Space-burned if I ever take orders from a Cummi while I still wear this!" His hand went to his Comet badge.
"A very fine sentiment which will not help you any if Cummi's private police force comes a-hunting," Zinga remarked. "But was it just this disinclination to take orders from a mere civilian which drove you to us?"
"You," Smitt snapped at the Zacathan, "needn't be so cocky. I overheard enough to learn that Cummi is death on fraternization with Bemmys and that goes for rangers, too," he aimed in Kartr's direction. "There's a rumor, it came in the form of a secondhand warning from one of the intal planters, that Cummi's had a couple burned already — "
"A couple of what?" That was Fylh, and his crest was rising. "Bemmys? Of what species?"
Smitt shook his head. "I don't know, the planter was vague. Only, you're not going to get a fair deal from Cummi, that's plain. And I'm not going to take his orders. Maybe we haven't always run the same course before, but we have a common problem before us now."
"So?" Fylh's claws preened his crest. "But the best of the bargain seems to be yours under the circumstances. What do you have to offer us in return?"
"He has something we might need," Kartr broke in.
The appeal of the com-techneer was an honest one. He did want to throw in with them.
"It will depend upon you, Smitt. Can you swallow your pride enough to co-operate with Cummi's party — co-operate until you can learn something of their set-up — how much power Cummi really has, whether there are any rebels among the passengers, what are some of his future plans? We're not" — he spoke now to the rangers — "going to strike out blindly. You two, Fylh and Zinga, will have to lie low until we do know how we stand. No use attracting any attention. As for me, since my talk with Jaksan, I am doubtless down in their black books with a double star. Rolth is handicapped for daytime work. So, Smitt, if you are really willing to join up with us, keep that wish under mind block — and I mean under block. The Ageratan is a sensitive and what he can't scrape out of an unsuspecting mind the Can-hound may be able to get for him. It'll be a tough assignment, Smitt. You're got to join the anti-Bemmy, pro-Cummi crowd — at least with lukewarm attachment. A little initial rebellion is all right, they would expect that from a Patrolman with your background. But can you play a double game, Smitt — and do you want to?"