Overhead the gray light of another dawn gave a pale radiance. Kartr stepped up on the dais. He rested one hand on the back of the chair which was Terra's and looked closely for the first time at these new companions in misfortune.
They were a mixed lot, both as to race and species, as might be expected from a Patrol Ranger base. There were two more Zacathans, a pale-faced woman and two children with the goggles of the Faltharians hanging from their belts, and he was sure he had seen a feather crest which could only have graced the head of a Trystian.
"You are in command here?"
Kartr's attention flickered from the refugees to a girl — the same girl who had stood beside him to watch the battle — and two men standing together at the foot of the dais. Automatically Kartr's hand arose to touch a helmet he no longer wore.
"Ranger Sergeant Kartr of the Starfire. We crashed here some time ago. Our party consists of three other rangers, a com-techneer and an arms-techneer — "
"Medico-techneer Veelson," the shorter of the two men responded in a low and surprisingly musical voice. "This is Third Officer Moxan of our Base Ship, and Acting Sergeant Adrana of the Headquarters section. We are entirely at your service, Sergeant."
"Your party — "
"Our party," Veelson answered quickly, "numbers thirty-eight. Twenty women and six children are ranger dependents. Five crewmen under Moxan, and six supply corpswomen with Sergeant Adrana — and myself. As far as we know we are the only survivors of Base CC4."
"Zinga — Fylh — Rolth — " Kartr gave the order which came naturally to him. "Firewood detail and get some fires going — " He turned back to the medico-techneer. "I take it, sir, that you haven't much in the way of supplies?"
Veelson shrugged. "We have only what we could carry. It certainly isn't too much."
"A hunting party out, too, Zinga. Smitt, take over the communication board again. We don't want to be caught napping if there is another ship on its way. Any of your men know com, sir?" he asked Moxan.
Instead of answering directly the third officer turned on his heel and called down the length of the hall. "Havre!"
One of the men in crew uniform came running.
"Com work," his officer grunted. "Under this techneer."
"I take it that we can live off the country, since you mentioned hunting," Veelson asked.
"This is an Arth type planet. We've found it hospitable. In fact — this is Terra, you know."
Kartr watched the medico-techneer closely to see if that registered. It took a second or two, but it did.
"Terra." Veelson repeated the word blankly and then his eyes widened. "The home of the Lords of Space! But that is a legend — a fable!"
Kartr stamped on the dais. "Fairly substantial fable, don't you think? You are in the Hall of Leave-Taking now — look at the seats of the first star rangers, if you wish." He pointed to the chairs. "Read what is carved on the back of this one. Yes, this is Terra of Sol!"
"Terra!" Veelson was still shaking his head wonderingly when Kartr spoke to the girl.
"You have your corpswomen. Can you take charge of the women and children?" he asked abruptly. This sort of duty was beyond his experience. He had established field camps, led expeditions, fought his way back and forth across many weird worlds in the past, but never before had he been responsible for such a group as this.
She started to nod, flushed, and raised her hand in salute. A moment later she was back circulating among the tired women and the fretful children — aided by the Zacathan family.
"Any chance of there being another pirate after you? What did happen at the base?" Already forgetting the women, Kartr began to question the medico-techneer.
"The base was wiped out. But things had begun to go wrong before that. There has been a breakdown somewhere along the supply and communication route. Our yearly supply ship was three months overdue even before the attack. We'd received no messages from Central Control for two weeks. We sent out a cruiser and it never returned.
"Then the pirate fleet came in. If was a fleet and the whole raid had been carefully planned. We had five ships on the field. Two raised and accounted for three of the pirates before they were blasted out. We manned the perimeter guns as long as we could and cleared the air for the survivors to take off.
"What caught us napping was that they came in under false colors and we accepted them as friendly until too late. They were Central Control ships! Either some section of the Fleet has mutinied or — or something terrible has happened to the whole empire. They acted as if the Patrol had been outlawed — their attack was vicious. And because they had come in with all the proper signals we weren't expecting it. It was as if they were the law — "
"Perhaps they are now," Kartr suggested grimly. "Maybe there has been a rebellion in this sector. The winner may be systematically mopping up all Patrol bases. That would leave him free to rule the space lanes as he pleases. A very practical and necessary move if there has been a change of government."
"That idea did occur to us. I can't say that we welcomed it." Veelson's voice was bleak. "Well, we did manage to crowd aboard a supply ship and one of the Patrol scouts. After that it was a running fight across space. They were between us and the regular routes so we had to head out this way. We lost the scout — "
Kartr nodded. "We saw that on the screen before we were able to contact you."
"It rammed a flagship — a flagship of the Fleet, mind you!"
"But effectively," the sergeant reminded him. "There were only the two ships following you — are you sure?"
"Only two registered on our screens. And — now if neither returns Do you think that they will send another to track us down?"
"I don't know. They would accept the idea that the Patrol would be desperate enough to go out fighting. And so they may be willing to write off their ships as a case of blasting each other. But Smitt and your man can keep at their posts. They'll be able to give us warning in time if another heads this way."
"And if one does come?"
"Large portions of this world are wilderness. It will be easy to take cover in plenty of time and they could never find us."
By the end of the day the new camp was well established. The hunting party had been successful enough so that everyone was fed. Under the leadership of the corpswomen a party had spread out on the hill, hacked off branches, and fashioned beds. And there had been no warning — the screen in the hall remained blank.
It was night now. Kartr stood at the top of the stairs gazing down abstractedly at the landing field. A gleaning party had worked under his direction most of the afternoon, shifting the debris of the natives' encampment. And they had salvaged two spears and a handful of metal arrow points, treasures to be guarded against that day when the last blaster charge would be expended — when weapons which were the products of civilized skill would be useless.
Tomorrow they must hunt again and —
"A pleasant night, is it not, lady? There is, of course, only one moon instead of three. But it is a very bright one."
Kartr started and turned his head. Zicti was walking toward him accompanied by the girl, Adrana.
"Three moons? Is that the number which shine down on Zacan? Now I would consider two to be a more normal number." And she laughed.
Two moons. Kartr tried to remember all the two-mooned worlds he had known and wondered which had been her native one. But there were at least ten — and probably more which he had never heard of. No man, even if he had at least four lifetimes, could learn all that lay within the galaxy. Two moons was too faint a clue.