The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

helmet and started away from the flitter. The buzzer which he had expected to roar in his ears was only a faint drone, and above it he could easily hear other sounds. Yet it was there, and he tested it by a series of loops away from the flyer. Each time as he came on the true beam he was rewarded by a deepening of the muted note. Yes, he could be a homer with that, and at the same time be alert to any other noise in his vicinity.
    “That’s it!” He paid credit where it was due. But he was unable to break his long habit of silence. Something within him still kept him wary of the com-tech’s open friendliness.
    None of the aliens approached the flitter as the shadows began to draw in. The procession of moving teams stopped, and most of the burden-bearing warriors withdrew to the globe and stayed there. Soriki pointed this out.
    “They’re none too sure, themselves. Look as if they are closing up for the night.”
    Indeed it did. The painted men had hauled up their ramp, the hatch in the globe closed with a definite snap. Seeing that, the com-tech laughed.
    “We have a double reason for a strict watch. Suppose whatever they’ve been looking for jumps us ? They’re not worrying over that it now appears.”
    So they took watch and watch, three hours on and three hours in rest. When it came Raf’s turn he did not remain sitting in the flitter, listening to the com-tech’s heavy breathing, but walked a circular beat which took him into the darkness of the night in a path about the flyer. Overhead the stars were sharp and clear, glittering gem points. But in the dead city no light showed, and he was sure that no aliens camped there tonight.
    He was sleeping when Soriki’s grasp on his shoulder brought him to that instant alertness he had learned on field maneuvers half the Galaxy away.
    “Business,” the com-tech’s voice was not above a whisper as he leaned over the pilot. “I think they are on the move.”
    The light was the pale gray of pre-dawn. Raf pulled himself up with caution to look at the globe. The com-tech was right. A dark opening showed on the alien ship; they had released their hatch. He fastened his tunic, buckled on his equipment belt and helmet, strapped his boots.
    “Here they come!” Soriki reported. “One—two—five—no, six of them. And they’re heading for the city. No dollies with them, but they’re all armed.”
    Together the Terrans watched that patrol of alien warriors, their attitude suggesting that they hoped to pass unseen, hurry toward the city. Then Raf slipped out of the flyer. His dark clothing in this light should render him largely invisible.
    Soriki waved encouragingly and the pilot answered with a quick salute before he sped after his quarry.
    CHAPTER 13
    A Hound Is Loosed
    Dalgard’s feet touched gravel; he waded cautiously to the bank, where a bridge across the river made a concealing shadow on the water. None of the mermen had accompanied him this far. Sssuri, as soon as his human comrade had started for the storage city, had turned south to warn and rally the tribes. And the merpeople of the islands had instituted a loose chain of communication, which led from a clump of water reeds some two miles back to the seashore, and so out to the islands. Better than any of the now legendary coms of his Terran forefathers were these minds of the spies in hiding, who could pick up the racing thoughts beamed to them and pass them on to their fellows.
    Although there were no signs of life about the city, Dalgard moved with the same care that he would have used in penetrating a snake-devil’s lair. In the first hour of dawn he had contacted a hopper. The small beast had been frightened almost out of coherent thought, and Dalgard had had to spend some time in allaying that terror to get a fractional idea of what might be going on in this countryside.
    Death—the hopper’s terror had come close to insanity. Killers had come out of the sky, and they were burning—burning—All living things were fleeing before them. And in that moment Dalgard had been forced to give up his plan for an unseen spy ring, which would depend upon the assistance of the animals. His information must come via his own eyes and ears.
    So he kept on, posting the last of the mermen in his mental relay well away from the city, but swimming upstream himself. Now that he was here, he could see no traces of the invaders. Since they could not have landed their sky ships in the thickly built-up section