"But did I?" Kartr's frown was black. "In spite of your therapy I can't remember what happened between leaving the city and waking up alone in the wilderness."
"I believe that you did break free from him," Zicti said soberly. "Which is why I have laid the compulsion on you But, let us examine the facts, you men of Ylene are six point six on the sensitive scale, are you not?"
"Yes. But Ageratans are supposed to be only five point nine — "
"True. But there is always the chance lately that one may be dealing with a chance mutant. And this is the proper time in the wave of history for mutants to appear. A pity we do not know more of Cummi's background. If he is a mutant that would explain a great deal."
"Would you mind," Kartr asked humbly, "telling me just where on the sensitive scale Zacathans place themselves?"
The big eyes twinkled at him. "We have purposely never submitted to classification, young man. It is always best and wisest to keep some secrets — especially when dealing with non-sensitives. But I would rate us somewhere between eight and nine. We have produced several persons who are combination telepaths and teleports, and more only a step or two below them, during the past three generations. So I am sure that while such mutation is on the increase among my people, it must be working in other races also."
"Mutants!" Kartr repeated and he shivered. "I was on Kablo when Pertavar started the Mutant Rebellion — "
"Then you know what can come of such an upcurve in mutant births. There are good and bad results from all changes. Tell me, when you were a small child, were you aware of being a sensitive?"
Kartr shook his head. "No. In fact I was never aware of my powers until I entered the ranger cadet school. Then an instructor discovered my gift and I was given special training."
"You were a latent sensitive. Ylene was a frontier planet, its people too close to barbarism to know their full strength. Ah — to have such a vigorous world thrown away! The foul sins of war! It is just because things such as the destruction of Ylene are happening too often now that I am convinced our civilization is nearing its end. Now in this camp we are a strange mixture." He pulled himself out of the water and applied a towel with vigor. "Zor, it is time to come!" he called after his son.
"Yes, we are a strange mixture — a collection of odds and ends of the empire. You and Rolth, Smitt and Dalgre, are human, but you are all of different races and widely separated stock. Fylh, Zinga and my family are non-human. Those back in the city are human and highly civilized. And, who knows yet, there may also be natives in this world. One might almost believe that Someone or Something was about to conduct an experiment here." He chuckled and sniffed the air. "Ah, food, and I am indeed empty. Shall we go to see what lies in the cooking pots?"
But before they came up to the fire Zicti touched Kartr's arm.
"There is only one thought I wish to leave with you, my boy. I know little of your race — you may not be a mystic, although most sensitives tend to look beyond the flesh and seek the spirit — and you may have no religious beliefs. But if we have been chosen to work out some purpose here, it is up to us to prove worthy of being so selected!"
"I agree," Kartr returned shortly but he knew that the other recognized his sincerity.
The Zacathan nodded. "Fine, fine. I am going to enjoy my declining years. And to think I have been given this just when I thought that life was totally devoid of excitement. My dear" — he raised his voice to address Zacita — "the aroma of that stew is delightful. My hunger increases with every step I draw nearer to the fire!"
But Kartr spooned up the soup mechanically. It was very well for Zicti to paint the future in such bold strokes. A hist-techneer by his training was always taught to look at the whole situation, not to study details. Now ranger instruction worked in just the opposite fashion, it was the small details which mattered most, the careful study of a new planet, the long hours of patient spying upon strange peoples or animals, the rebuilding by speculation from a few bricks of a whole vanished civilization. And here and now they were faced with a detail which he and he alone must handle.
He must render Cummi harmless!
That was the thought which had held over from sleep that morning, had been part of his dreams, and was now crystallized into a driving urge. Living or dead — he must and would find the Ageratan. If Joyd Cummi were still alive he was a menace to all of them.
Odd — Kartr shook his head as if to clear it — he was so haunted by that thought. Cummi was a danger, and Cummi was his business. Luckily the Ageratan was no trained explorer-woodsman, he must leave a trail so plain it would be child's play for a ranger to follow. They had been together when they left the city. Somewhere that night they had parted company. Had Cummi pushed him off the sled in the dark, intending the fall to kill him? If that were so it would be a much more difficult task to locate the Ageratan — he would leave no footprints on clouds. The thing for Kartr to do was to return to that ledge where he had first gained consciousness.
"That's ten — maybe fifteen miles north — "
The sergeant started to hear the words come from Zinga's thin lips — picked out of his own thoughts.
"And — Kartr — you do not go alone, not on that trail!"
He stiffened. But Zinga must know his protest without his putting it into words.
"That job is mine," the sergeant returned, his teeth set hard.
"Granted. But still I say you do not take such a trail alone. We have the lifeboat — it will cover ground with time-saving speed. And with it we can better prospect for any traces of Cummi's passing."
That was good common sense, but it was no sweeter to swallow because it was logical. Kartr would rather have left camp alone and on his two feet. It burned inside him that Cummi was his alone, and that he would not feel whole and well again until he had fronted the Ageratan and won.
"Take one more day of rest," Zinga advised, "and then, I promise, we shall go. This matter of Cummi — it is one of importance."
"Others might not think so. He is alone in a wilderness he can know very little about. The wilds may already have done our job for us."
"But he is Cummi, and so will continue to linger as a threat until we are sure of him. Did Zicti tell you that he believes him a mutant? Remember Pertavar and what that one was able to do. And Cummi is not going to win next time you face him!"
Kartr smiled at the Zacathan, a smile which was hardly more than ten percent humor. "D'you know, my friend, there I think you are right! And this time I do not believe that I am being too confident — the mistake I made before. He has no Can-hound — and surely no other brains to tap!"
"Very well." Zinga arose. "Now let me go and pick Dalgre's store of mechanical knowledge. It might be wise to know just how much ranging power the lifeboat unit has left."
They took off the next morning and no one asked questions although Kartr was sure they all knew his mission. The lifeboat did not have the springy lift of the sled and its pace was slower. Zinga, at the controls, held it steady over the winding reaches of the river until they found the stream which had served to guide Kartr's wanderings.
From time to time the Zacathan glanced anxiously at the heavy clouds bulging over the horizon. Storm was indicated and they had best take shelter when the wind which was driving those clouds struck. To be tossed about the sky in a light-weight lifeboat was no experience to be desired.
"Anything below look familiar?
"Yes. I'm sure I crossed this open field. I remember pushing through the tall grass. And those trees ahead are promising. Think we'd better land in their shelter?"