He had and almost lost. Dumarest said, casually, "Is Lychen your home world?"
"Yes, do you know it?"
"I've heard of it."
From Shakira of the circus of Chen Wei. The name of the planet on which he could find someone able and willing to help him to find Earth.
* * *
They headed out at noon, moving toward the north where Dumarest had seen the lavender flash. Behind them the fire sent up a thin column of smoke which he used to check their direction.
As it finally fell below the horizon Angado said, "Well, if they ever come looking for us, they'll never find us now."
"No one will come looking."
"I suppose not. Krogstad didn't strike me as the sort of captain who'd burn atoms unless he was paid." Angado shrugged and looked around. "A hell of a place."
The plain stretched around them on all sides. Flat, gently undulating, covered with thick grass, featureless.
Dumarest halted to sniff at the wind. It came from the east, a soft breeze which barely moved the tufted tips of the grass, and the odors it carried were the same as those all around. At a distance birds rose, wheeling, settling as he watched.
"Too far." Angado had misread his interest. "We'd never be able to bring them down." He grunted as Dumarest made no comment. "You ever hunted?"
"At times."
"Big game hunting?"
"Not if I could avoid it."
"There's a thrill to it," said Angado. "Pitting your wits and skill against something which could tread you into the ground if given the chance. Standing, waiting, finger on the trigger. Holding your aim and watching for that one moment to fire. It gets you, Earl. Like a fire in the blood." He frowned as Dumarest remained silent. "If you've hunted you must know what I'm talking about."
Dumarest said, "Did you hunt for food?"
"Of course not. It was for sport."
"Butchery, you mean. Killing for the pleasure of it. Standing in a hide and waiting for the beaters to drive the creature toward you. Waiting for it with a gun. What chance did it have?" Dumarest looked at his companion. "I've seen it. Spoiled bastards, rich, pampered, having fun. They don't see what they leave behind. The hurt beasts, wounded by too hasty a shot, dragging themselves away with their guts trailing after them. Some with broken legs or no leg at all. Animals blinded and left to starve. Hunting! Don't boast to me about hunting!"
"It wasn't like that."
"How do you know? You hired men to clean up the mess but did they do it? Did you check or were you too busy showing off your trophy?"
Angado said, "I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt that way about it. I guessed you were a hunter and you killed that beast-"
"For food and because it threatened us." Dumarest added, "There's a difference. By the time this trip is over you may recognize it."
They moved on over the plain, which was as featureless as a sea. Only the compass kept them on a straight line; without it they would have wandered in circles despite the guiding light of the sun. As it swung toward the horizon Dumarest looked for somewhere to camp. It had to be soon; Angado was showing signs of distress but refused to give in to his weakness. A stubborn man who insisted on gathering fuel for the fire and was reluctant to take his share of water.
"We ought to save it, Earl. Ration it."
"Ration it, yes, but not save it," Dumarest tried to explain. "It's best to store it in our bodies not in a canteen. The same with food. We need all the energy we can get and all the strength. If a chance comes we must be strong enough to take it."
"A chance?"
"For food, water, anything which could help us to survive. This plain can't go on forever. Drink up, now."
Later, when the stars glowed above, he studied the sleeping figure of the younger man. One maybe a decade younger than himself but centuries his junior in experience. A man cosseted when young, spoiled by fawning servants, convinced by his peers that he was not like the majority. The product of wealth and influence who had much to learn. With luck he would learn it before he died.
Dumarest wished they had never met.
Rising he looked toward the north hoping for more of the reports, the lavender flash. He saw nothing but the stars and a rising mist which blurred their light. One which thickened into a fog which closed around like a wall of growing darkness. From it, to the west, he heard a shrill screaming and he added more fuel to the fire.
"Earl?" The screaming had awakened Angado and he reared, voice anxious. "What's that?"
"A hunter at work."
"A predator? Like the one you killed?"
"Maybe."
"Do you think it will attack us?"
"It might."
Angado rose and came to sit with Dumarest at the fire. As he settled he said, "You don't like me, do you? On the ship it didn't matter, we were just passing strangers, but here it's different. You told me about the hunting but what else is wrong? My title?"
"You were born to it."
"And so can't be blamed. Right? Any more than a slave can be blamed for being a slave. We don't use them on Lychen, you know. Contract workers, yes, but not slaves. In the old days we had them but not for a long time now." Angado held out his hands to the fire. "I guess that's what you'd call progress."
"Would you?"
"What else? There's a difference between being a slave and being a contract worker. Workers are in it from choice."
"Unless they owe money," reminded Dumarest. "Or were sold under sentence."
"Sure-but you aren't saying a man should get away with crime? And even they get treated well; food, shelter, clothing, some amusements. It can't be such a bad life."
"Would you want it?" Then, as Angado made no answer Dumarest said, "For most it's a life sentence. The food, the shelter, the clothing, all has to be paid for and the company sets the price. A few amusements and the worker is back where he started and often worse than before. It takes a rare type to buy himself free."
"Maybe, but it's still better than slavery. That's why I said we'd progressed on Lychen. We gave that up a long time ago."
"Most civilized worlds are against the use of slaves," said Dumarest. "Especially those with a high technology. But it isn't because of a liberal attitude toward freedom. That's just the reason they like to give to cover the real motivations."
"Which are?"
"Two. The first is fashion. Once it becomes unfashionable then a slave owner is at a disadvantage. He will be ostracized, derided, made to feel socially inferior. His business will suffer and he'll be hit where it hurts. Once he feels the pain in his wallet he'll join the rest as a matter of survival. He'll free his slaves and begin charging them for what he'd been supplying for nothing. An advantage he'll be quick to recognize."
Angado nodded. "That's one reason. The other?"
"A matter of economics. Slaves make bad workers and who can blame them? The higher the technology the less productive they are and the greater the risk of damage to expensive equipment. In the end, to be efficient, you'd need an overseer for each worker. If the overseer can do the job why go to the expense of keeping a slave?"
"Because you can-"
"What? Beat them? Force them to work? Make them obedient? That may be true but you can't force anyone to be clever or loyal or even trustworthy. And what incentive can you give a slave? Freedom? Do that and you lose valuable property. You can kill them, sure, but you'd be hurting yourself in the long run. So it comes back to economics. The only real-" Dumarest broke off, listening, as another thin screaming echoed through the night. "It's made another kill. Good."
"Because now it won't be hungry and so will leave us alone?"
"You're learning."
"More than you think. What were you going to say just then? About slaves. The only real reason anyone would want to own them."
Dumarest hadn't said that but he answered the question.
"Power. Real power. Wealth and influence doesn't make you strong, it only shows how weak others can be. You can bribe them to obey but, if they've any guts, they can always tell you to go to hell. But a slave has no choice. He jumps when you give the word or you have him flogged, burned, tortured, maimed. Power like that can be a drug. Some can't live without it."