"A woman — "
But Kartr already knew that, having met the block which always prevented a sensitive from interpreting the emotions of one of the opposite sex. She was leaning forward, daring to beckon with one hand. Rolth edged toward that side of the hall and Kartr nodded. The Faltharian would contact the woman while the sergeant kept on to their destination. If any one except Zinga had a mind watch on them at present such a move might be confusing.
Rolth stepped into the embrasure and drew back against the window, taking the woman with him. To anyone not directly before the recess they were not visible. Kartr went on a yard and glanced back. Rolth had made the right move — from where he was now they could not be seen.
The sergeant turned into the next open door. Medico's quarters all right from the equipment in sight. Almost at the same instant a tall man came from an inner room. Kartr tried mind contact and then lost some of his tension. This was no Ageratan, and no enemy either. He could scan nothing but good will in the other's mind.
"You have a renewer ray?" he asked, drawing his arm out of the sling.
"We have. How long it will continue to function locked to these city currents is another question. We cannot be sure of anything. I am Medico Lasilo Tre. A break?" His fingers were already busy about Kartr's wrist, unfastening the bandages Zinga had put on that morning.
"I don't know. Ah — " Kartr sucked in his breath as Tre began probing the bruised and purple flesh.
Then the ranger was pushed down on a stool at the edge of the renewer beam, his throbbing arm stretched out under the concentrated ray, feeling again the draw of those invisible healing motes. Twice Tre snapped off the current and came to examine the hurt with delicate finger tips — only to turn it on again after shaking his head. The third time he was satisfied. Kartr lifted his arm gingerly and flexed first his fingers and then his wrist. Although he had once before been under the ray — to renew a leg almost chewed to pieces — the wonder of the restoration was as great as ever. He pulled off his sling and grinned happily at the medico.
"Better than new," Tre commented. "Only wish that your officer could be as easily put to rights, Sergeant — "
Vibor! Kartr had almost forgotten the Commander. "How is he?"
Tre frowned. "The physical wounds — those we were able to heal. But the other I'm no psycho-sensitive. He needs the type of care and treatment he'll never be able to get now — unless a miracle occurs and we are rescued — "
"Which you do not believe will ever happen," suggested Kartr.
"How can any sensible man believe that we will?" countered the medico. But there was something else, another emotion hidden beneath that answer. "This planet — this solar system — does not even exist on any map the X451 carried."
"But those who built this city were at a high level of civilization," Kartr pointed out. "Where did they go?"
"They were and they weren't. Mechanically they were far advanced, yes. But there are odd gaps. I understand you rangers are trained to assess strange civilizations. I shall be eager to have your reaction to the ruins of this one after you have had the time to study it. The one thing I have noticed is that there is no space port here and there never was. Maybe the men of this world never knew space flight — "
"But what happened to them?"
Tre shrugged. "At least this is no second Tantor. We made sure of that before we entered the city. And we have found no human remains here. It seems almost as if they all walked away one day, leaving their city ready and waiting, all geared to go again when they wished to return. There are signs of time — some erosion. The machinery, though, had all been left protected, oiled, laid up in such a way as to set our mech-techneers running around begging people to come and look at an excellent preservation job."
"They must have planned on returning, then." Kartr digested that. Was there, on some other land mass of this unknown world, a remnant of civilization?
"If they did they were prevented. It has been a long time since they left. Wrist okay, Sergeant?"
Kartr did not start at the abrupt change in the other's speech. He knew that Rolth was at the door behind him.
"Medico Tre, Ranger Rolth." He was careful to glance around before making the introductions. No need to tip off Tre that he was a sensitive.
The medico acknowledged the Faltharian's salute. "Pleased to see you, ranger. Any aches or pains to report? Goggles holding up? Need any skin burn cream? You are a Faltharian?"
The lips below Rolth's goggle mask curved into a smile which expanded under the medico's friendliness. "You know all about my problems then, Medico?"
"Had a Faltharian patient once — bad skin burn. That's what started me messing around with creams. Found one which did help a lot. Wait a minute — "
He hurried to a medicine case in the corner and began checking over the assortment of plaso-tubes it held. "Try this." He brought one out. "Spread it on before you go into direct daylight. I think you'll find it will stop irritation."
"Thanks, Medico." Rolth put the tube into his belt pouch. "So far I've been okay. Only the sergeant here had work for you."
Kartr flipped his left hand up and down from the restored wrist. "And this is as good as new. What's your fee?"
Tre laughed. "Credit slips wouldn't have much value here, would they? If you come across anything interesting in my line when you go exploring, just let me know. That will be good enough for me. Glad to be of service to the Patrol at any time, anyway. You boys deserve the best we civilians can give you. I hear that you may be hunting — any chance of going along some time on one of your trips?"
Kartr was surprised. There was an urgency in that question and the medico's eyes locked with his as if Tre were trying desperately to tell him something — a message vitally important to both of them.
"I don't see why not," the sergeant returned. "If we do go. I've had no orders as yet. Thanks again, Medico — "
"Not at all. Only too glad to be able to help. See you around — "
But still underneath that urgent appeal. Then Kartr's eyes widened. The fingers of the medico's right hand — they had moved — were moving again — to shape a figure he knew well. But how — how and when had Tre learned that? Automatically he made the prescribed answer with his forefinger, even as he said loudly:
"If and when we go out, we'll let you know. Clear skies — "
"Clear skies." The other returned the spaceman's good-bye.
Outside the door Kartr's hand closed for a moment only on Rolth's. The Faltharian at once began talking about hunting.
"Those horned beasts we saw in the clearing," he said as they mounted the stairs again, "they should make excellent eating. There may be some way of salting down the flesh — if we could locate salt deposits. And the same for those river creatures Zinga is always talking about. We needn't send him to bring in those." The Faltharian laughed as light-heartedly as if he had not caught the message and was speaking now for other ears. "He'd eat more than he'd bring back."
"We'd better not use the blasters," Kartr cut in as if he were giving some serious thought to the questions. "Spoils too much of the meat. Force blades — "
"Have to get in close to use them, wouldn't you?" asked Rolth dubiously.
Both of them were climbing faster. There was someone behind them now. Kartr's mind touched and then recoiled, sickened. The Can-hound was trailing them. But they did not run, though they were breathing hard when they reached the top of the last flight and saw the door to the tower open just enough for them to squeeze through. Zinga slammed it shut on their heels with an open-jawed snarl of rage.