The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

Fox, are not the only one to remember useful knowledge.” Manulito had lost his cheerful grin. “Do you think we are just the savages those big brains back at the project wished us to be? They have played a trick on us with their Redax. So, we can play a few tricks, too. Me—? I went to M.I.T., or is that one of the things you no longer remember, Fox?”
    Travis swallowed hastily. He really had forgotten that fact until this very minute. From the beginning, the Apache team had been carefully selected and screened, not only for survival potential, which was their basic value to the project, but also for certain individual skills. Just as Travis’ grounding in archaeology had been one advantage, so had Manulito’s technical training made a valuable, though different, contribution. If at first the Redax, used without warning, had smothered that training, perhaps the effects were now fading.
    “You can do something, then?” he asked eagerly.
    “I can try. There is a chance to booby trap the control cabin at least. And that is where they would poke and pry. Working in this suit will be tough. How about my trying to smash up the Redax first?”
    “Not until after we use it on our captive,” Jil-Lee decided. “Then there would be some time before the Reds come—”
    “You talk as if they will come,” cut in Lupe. “How can you be sure?”
    “We can’t,” Travis agreed. “But we can count on this much, judging from the past. Once they know that there is a wrecked ship here, they will be forced to explore it. They cannot afford an enemy settlement on this side of the mountains. That would be, according to their way of thinking, an eternal threat.”
    Jil-Lee nodded. “That is true. This is a complicated plan, yes, and one in which many things may go wrong. But it is also one which covers all the loopholes we know of.”
    With Lupe’s aid Manulito crawled out of the suit. As he leaned it carefully against a supporting rock he said:
    “I have been thinking of this treasure house in the towers. Suppose we could find new weapons there.…”
    Travis hesitated. He still shrank from the thought of opening the secret places behind those glowing walls, to loose a new peril.
    “If we took weapons from there and lost the fight.…” He advanced his first objection and was glad to see the expression of comprehension on Jil-Lee’s face.
    “It would be putting the weapons straight into Red hands,” the other agreed.
    “We may have to chance it before we’re through,” Manulito warned. “Suppose we do get some of their technicians into this trap. That isn’t going to open up their main defense for us. We may need a bigger nutcracker than we’ve ever seen.”
    With a return of that queasy feeling he had known in the tower, Travis knew Manulito was speaking sense. They might have to open Pandora’s box before the end of this campaign.
    CHAPTER 15
    They camped another two days near the wrecked ship while Manulito prowled the haunted corridors and cabins in his space suit, planning his booby trap. At night he drew diagrams on pieces of bark and discussed the possibility of this or that device, sometimes lapsing into technicalities his companions could not follow. But Travis was well satisfied that Manulito knew what he was doing.
    On the morning of the third day Nolan slipped into their midst. He was dust-grimed, his face gaunt, the signs of hard travel plain to read. Travis handed him the nearest canteen, and they watched him drink sparingly in small sips before he spoke.
    “They come…with the girl—”
    “You had trouble?” asked Jil-Lee.
    “The Tatars had moved their camp, which was only wise, since the Reds must have had a line on the other one. And they are now farther to the west. But—” he wiped his lips with the back of his hand—“also we saw your towers, Fox. And that is a place of power!”
    “No sign that the Reds are prowling there?”
    Nolan shook his head. “To my mind the mists there conceal the towers from aerial view. Only one coming on foot could tell them from the natural crags of the hills.”
    Travis relaxed. Time still granted them a margin of grace. He glanced up to see Nolan smiling faintly.
    “This maiden, she is a kin to the puma of the mountains,” he announced. “She has marked Tsoay with her claws until he looks like the ear-clipped yearling fresh from the branding chute—”
    “She is not hurt?” Travis demanded.
    This time Nolan chuckled openly. “Hurt? No,