Angado

"No."

"It could have been. A freak of some kind." Angado wanted to be convinced. "Or maybe they only lurk near the edge."

Dumarest said, "It had a lair behind that clump of bamboo. My guess is that we'll find others like it wherever there is cover. Other things too-the cliff is riddled with holes and they can't all be natural. And don't forget the wind."

"What has that to do with it?"

"It blows from the ground out there to the cliff and it brings all sorts of things with it. Spores, seeds, insects, eggs, birds-anything which gets caught winds up here. Food, and where there's food there will be predators. I just happened to run into one."

Angado walked to the edge and looked over. The sun, now in its descent, threw golden light over the slope, painting it with a false warmth and gentleness.

Returning to where Dumarest sat, he said, "Aside from the insects could we climb down it?"

"With luck, maybe, but we'd need a hell of a lot of luck." Dumarest met his eyes. "With what I figure is lurking on the face it's impossible."

"So we're stuck up here."

"That's right. We're stuck-unless we can find another way down."

* * *

That night they saw lights, faint glimmers far in the distance, blooming to die as if born from a struggling fire that sputtered and fumed and roared into new and angry life.

"A camp," mused Angado. "I guess you're right, Earl. It has to be a camp."

"Maybe more than that."

"Hunters, maybe, or-" Angado blinked. "What?"

"Those reports I heard and the flash. The noises could have been sonic bangs high up and going away from us. If they had emanated at ground level we'd have run into them on the journey. The flash could have been from an Erhaft field."

"Lavender?" Angado shook his head. "A field is blue."

"Normally, yes, but the air could have colored it." Dumarest paused then added, "Or there could have been another reason. Do you know anything about generators?"

"You're talking about a malfunction in the phase effect resulting in a spectrum drop." Angado smiled with a flash of white teeth. "We studied chromatic analysis of the Erhaft field during my last semester at university. The Daley-Ash University of Space Flight," he added wryly. "I guess you could say I know something about generators."

"You surprise me."

"Why? Because I act the dilettante?" Angado shrugged. "I had an ambition when a child and tried to achieve it. I wanted to be someone who could do things. A doctor or an engineer, healing and building, even be an expert on something so I'd be respected. Family pride," he said bitterly. "A defense against family pressure. So I went to university and studied until I was told to stop wasting my time."

"So you called it a bad dream and ran from it? The necessity of having to make a decision?"

"Call it that." Angado was curt. "A family can be a prison, Earl. You live by rules not of your making. You conform to ideals established before you were born. Play along and everything's fine. Step out of line and-" His hand slapped the ground as if he were squashing an insect. "End of ambition. End of career. End of any pretense of freedom. So I sold out. Can you blame me?"

"That isn't my business. Could what I saw have been a ship?"

"It could and you know it. You've known it from the first." Hope animated the younger man's face. "That camp! If it was a ship you saw and the field was showing phase malfunction then it must have made an emergency landing. Which means-" He rose and stared at where they had seen the fire. "It's still here, Earl. Still here. A way out of this damned trap!"

"If we can get to it."

"What?" Angado slumped. "I'd forgotten. That blasted cliff. How the hell can we get down it?"

"Tell me."

"What's there to tell? We can't climb down. We can't slide or-" He broke off, shaking his head. "No. The terminal velocity would be too great. Even with air-drogues we'd never make it and that's assuming we can find material to build sledges and a slope shallow enough to try it. I must have been crazy to think about it. So what else is left?"

Dumarest said, "How about flying?"

"Hang gliders?" Angado was quick to assess the possibility. "No. It could be done but we haven't the materials. The wing would have to be strong and so would the covering. If either went we'd be dead." He frowned and said, "But maybe a kite? Two kites, big ones, one for each of us? Earl, how can we build a couple of kites?"

"From bamboo," said Dumarest. "That can be got from the ledge. I'll go down at first light and get it, it'll be safe enough now. The sacs will serve for covering and we have wire to lash things tight. Ropes, too-we'd better get on making what we need." He glanced at the sky, the stars were misted with cloud. "We want to be ready when the wind starts to blow."

The kites were box-shaped, twice the height of a man, following aerodynamic principles learned by Angado at the university. Dumarest checked the lashings, using the handle of the axe to twist them tight, the flat to test for security. The plastic sacs, opened out and cut to shape formed the major part of the covering while broad strips of various materials from the clothing provided the rest. Empty containers, voided ampules, the rubbish Angado had resented carrying-all went into the final construction. Proof of Dumarest's knowledge of the wild where even a pin was an item of inestimable value and a battered empty can an object beyond price.

"Catch hold!" He threw the end of a rope at Angado. "Pull!" He jerked his own end as the man obeyed. "Again! Once more! Good! That should do it!"

The final rope and he knotted it firmly in place before attaching it to his harness. Each checked the other and both looked grotesque with thick rolls of material bound around shins, thighs, heads, hips, arms and chest. Padding to absorb the shock of impact when they landed.

If they landed, thought Angado grimly. If the wind didn't smash them back against the cliff and the kites provided enough support to break the speed of their fall. If the ropes didn't break. The coverings rip free. The bamboo framework shatter. The scree not too hard or spiked with hidden rocks.

Doubts which didn't seem to affect Dumarest.

He said, "When the wind hits the cliff it turns up and back on itself like a cresting wave. I've been studying how grass acts in the thermals. Throw it out far enough and it doesn't come back. Once the wind catches your kite keep it heading out. If it doesn't, pull it back and try again. Got it?"

Simple instructions but not so easy to follow despite the guidelines attached to the framework. In theory the kites could be guided to a certain degree. But now, facing the acid test, Angado wasn't so sure.

He said, "Earl, I've been thinking. Maybe-"

"Now!" snapped Dumarest. "Now!" Then, as Angado hesitated, "Damn it, man! Move!"

The whip-crack of command which he obeyed, lifting the kite and running with it to the edge, muscles cracking beneath the strain. A moment of teetering then the wind took over, catching the kite, lifting it, jerking Angado off balance and off the edge of the cliff to leave him dangling in his harness.

Dumarest watched then followed, knowing the impossibility of following his instructions, knowing too they had been given for the other's benefit. The gamble was risky enough without adding an utter helplessness to the equation. Angado had been lucky, the wind which had caught him had been kind, Dumarest's wasn't so cooperative.

He grunted as the wind veered, slamming him against the cliff, the kite jerking him away again, a clinging vine trailing from his boot. He kicked free as again the wind gusted, the kite bobbing, dropping, soaring upward in a complex motion which blurred his eyes and filled his mouth with the taste of vomit. Weakness he ignored as he fought vertigo, tugging at his line to shorten the distance between himself and the kite, hanging, swaying like a pendulum beneath it as the wind roared past his ears.