"Ulls is smart." One of the others made his comment. "Take their wings then put them to work in the fields. Pay them off with grain and sugar-that's how he caught the others."
The half-dozen now hunched in an enclosure formed of struts and mesh. Angels lured by sticky sweetness, netted as they landed, now caged beneath the glare of lights. Prisoners held as hostages, or so Farnham claimed, but his real motive was plain.
"Ysanne?" Dumarest came to join her, led the way from the cage, the watching men. "What did you think?"
"About that?" She jerked her head toward the angels.
"About what Ava told us." He was patient, but she could sense his inner turmoil.
She said, soothingly, "This is a big world, Earl. From what you've told me you must have come from somewhere nearer to a pole. These things could have been here all the time and you'd never have known it."
The truth, and he remembered the bitter nights and stinging days when ice had rimmed the ponds and the wind had cut to the bone. And other times when to own a fire was to possess the greatest wealth of all-the means to survive.
"You were a boy when you left," she said. "Little more than a child. How could you have guessed what lay over the ocean? The next range of mountains? And Ava could be wrong. She's a nurse not a biotechnician and it'd take specialized equipment to check the gene structure. Those things could be natural."
As she wanted them to be-the alternative was too uncomfortable. Scientists playing at God and altering the germ plasm to create new types of life. Taking ordinary human beings and moulding them as a child fashioned clay. And, if they had constructed men with wings, then why not just ordinary men?
Looking up at the stars, the dark patches created by soaring wings, she felt a sudden chill. The spaces between the worlds were too dark, too empty and far too enigmatic. What manner of things could lurk in forgotten places? Lord it over hidden worlds?
She said abruptly, "Hold me, Earl. Hold me!"
He obeyed without question, wrapping her in the protection of his arms, easing her chill with the warmth of his body. Sensing her need, her sudden fear. In the starshine, in the glare of distant lights, her eyes were shadowed pools touched with motes of brilliance. Mirrors which reflected more than they saw.
"Easy," he soothed. "There's nothing to be afraid of." His hand rose to caress the rich mane of her hair. "You're tired and need some rest. Let me take you back to the ship."
She sighed and stirred, reluctant to leave the comfort of his arms. Walking beside him, one arm around his waist as Dumarest led the way toward the soaring bulk of the Erce. Stiffening to a halt as the blast of a gun stabbed fire from the open hatch.
Talion stood in the opening, a gun nestled in his arms, the muzzle aimed casually at the knot of men clustered at the foot of the ramp. Bright metal on the slope showed where his bullet had struck. Blood marred the cleated surface lower down and one of the clustered men had a hand clamped to his left upper arm. The fingers were stained with smeared darkness.
"Lyle?"
"No trouble, Earl." The engineer hefted the gun. "None that I can't handle. A few of our friends decided to raid the ship. I showed them we didn't like the idea."
"And shot Yukana!" Berthe, quivering with rage, was among the group. "It could have been any of us."
"I hit the ramp," said Talion. "The bullet flew wild. A ricochet. He was hit by accident."
"And could have been killed!"
"He wasn't." Dumarest was curt. "Now get him to medical help before he bleeds to death. The rest of you clear the area."
The woman stood her ground. "We want guns," she snapped. "Protection from what's in the sky. If those things attack we'll be helpless."
"Then don't provoke them. Release the ones you've caged."
"We keep them. That has been decided." Belkner had been outvoted on the matter and Farnham's victory had given her reflected authority. "What about those guns? Do you hand them over or do we take them."
"Try it and you'll be shot."
"Bluff," sneered the woman, her mouth ugly. "You wouldn't dare."
"No?" Dumarest thrust past her and mounted the ramp, Ysanne close behind. Halfway to the hatch he turned to add, coldly, "If you haven't cleared this area within ten seconds we open fire. Lyle, that's an order!"
In the control room Batrun leaned back in his chair taking snuff as he stared at the screens. Now they showed the blips of small figures weaving in an intricate pattern above and around the settlement area. From the direction of the hills came more in a steady stream.
"Trouble," he said as Dumarest entered to stand at his side. "I sense it, Earl. Why don't those fools let the others go?"
"Greed." Ysanne was bitter. "The Ypsheim learn fast."
They were about to receive another lesson if the signs were what he thought. Dumarest studied the wheeling pattern, the incoming flow; an assembly and gathering of forces as any hunter would know.
He said, "Those captives must be released. Ysanne, get Urich and stand guard at the hatch. I'll take Lyle with me. Is Eunice safe?"
"In her cabin-where else?"
The place she had made her own, but it was out of the way and Urich wouldn't have to worry about her. He nodded as Dumarest explained the position. "I understand. Covering fire and no unnecessary deaths. But the Ypsheim are to be kept out of the ship no matter what. All of them?"
Dumarest said dryly, "One will be one too many if he gets behind you. Ysanne?"
"I know what to do. Take care, Earl. You too, Lyle. I'd be happier if you had guns."
"No guns," said Dumarest. "They could be taken. And we don't want to shoot anyone, just open a cage."
Above it the air shrilled to the passage of wings the creatures inside staring upward with elongated eyes. Like youngsters wearing bizarre fancy dress, frightened, huddling together for mutual comfort. Their wings made swaths of glory.
"Females," said Talion. "All of them." He grunted as they neared the cage. "Well, look at that."
A dozen men stood guard in groups of three at each side of the compound. They were armed with staves and already had adopted a familiar stance.
"Police," said Talion. "Bully boys enjoying their work. Give a man a club and a badge and authority and you've created a monster." He spat on the ground. "I guess we'll have to take them."
Three against two with reserves for the guards. Dumarest slowed, studying the groups. Around them thronged others of the Ypsheim, a mixed crowd, some arguing as to the wisdom of keeping the creatures confined. One, a woman past middle age, illustrated her points with a series of expressive gestures.
"The Council," she stormed. "An order of the Council, they say-did we run from Krantz to make our own Quelen? Haven't we had enough of people telling us what to do? I say those things should be let loose. Why invite trouble?"
"They are our future," said a man. "Ulls Farnham has explained it all a dozen times."
"Sure, sell their wings and use what's left as slave labor in the fields. Turn them into what we were back on Krantz but worse."
"They're animals."
"With friends." The woman gestured to the fields now shrouded in darkness. "They're lifting the seed from the ground-all that work gone to waste. Next they'll rip down the lights and break the wires. Will the Council replace them?"
"Open the cage!" yelled a man.
"Keep them tight!"
"Let them go!"
"You want to sweat like a peon? Keep them!"
A babble Dumarest ignored as he eased his way around the cage to halt at the side farthest from the argument. The three men in that position were a little less assured than the others, distracted by the rising voices, less alert than they should have been. Dumarest was almost at the mesh before one faced him.
"Orders of the Council-none to approach the cage." The man lifted his stave to rest it against his right shoulder. "That applies to everyone."