"Then how do they act? What about the males? Do they mate in midair on a nuptial flight? Once at the beginning of a season? Several times? Tell me."
"I don't know." Vardoon's voice was rigid in its determination, his face hard as he glowered through the faceplate of his helmet., "What difference does it make? Up there's what we came for and I'm getting it."
"Tomorrow," said Dumarest. "We'll find a place to camp and use the tent. We'll eat well and have a decent rest. When it's safe we'll work all-out to gather what we can."
"I'm not leaving here, Earl."
"We have to. There's no cave large enough to take the raft."
"I'm not leaving here!" Vardoon made an effort to control himself. "Once we go we need never find it again. Things change at night; landmarks vanish, places alter-you know how it is. A small risk, maybe, but one I'm not taking. One I daren't take. I've worked too hard for this, waited too long. If-" He broke off, panting, shaking his head. "No, Earl! No!"
Dumarest looked at the man's face, saw the sweat, the wild eyes and recognized the near-hysterical condition he was in. Saw too the tension of the hands clamped on the gun slung from one shoulder, the direction of the muzzle. If he walked away nothing might happen but if he tried to take the raft the result would be certain; to kill Vardoon would be the only way to save his life.
He said quietly, "Relax, Hart. You win."
That night again was spent in thunder but this time it seemed less savage than before. Usage, perhaps, or the jagged flashes did not strike so often or so near. Looking at the mouth of the narrow opening Dumarest saw a facing hill crawling with electronic fire, heard the roar, the echoes.
As they faded Vardoon called from the tent, "Come and get it, Earl!"
He squatted, stripped to shorts in the inflated sac; tubes supporting curtains of plastic to create an enclosed space large enough for them both. One fitted with an air-lock, lights, a pneumatic floor serving as a mattress. A place in which to remove the burden of the suits, to breathe clean, tanked air, to eat and wash and sleep in relative comfort.
"Here!" He handed Dumarest a steaming cup as he took his place. Fans whined to cool the heat induced by the suit, to clear the stink of sweat. "Yurva." Vardoon sipped and reached for a bottle. "A good tisane but better with brandy. Earl?"
Dumarest extended his cup and sat trying to relax. An impossibility in their present condition and he lacked the euphoria which fueled Vardoon's cheerfulness. Faced with an impossible situation, he had compromised and now wondered if he had chosen the worse of both alternatives. If so he was stuck with it as was Vardoon.
The man poured himself more tisane, added more brandy.
"Neat," he said. "Your idea, Earl. To unload the raft and make camp up here close to the ardeel. A chance to relax and rest, as you said. What made you change your mind?"
‹›The threat of death and the need of killing. Dumarest said, "Two things. One was your fear of losing the place and the other an idea I had about the vrek. That female wouldn't have voided her eggs unless she felt they had a chance." He added, as Vardoon frowned, "They are native to the hills and to survive at all they must have an instinctive knowledge of storm patterns. Maybe it's the stress fields in the air or something radiated from the rock but I guessed this area would be relatively safe for a while."
A guess, but one based on observation and certainly no lightning had struck close to the opening of the cave, for they had checked for lurking predators or fissures through which they could travel. Dumarest had kept the raft hovering while Vardoon had unloaded, taking it back under the ledge and grounding it with thick strands of protective copper before climbing up to the cave on a suspended rope. The only precaution he could take and he hoped it would be enough.
"Tomorrow," said Vardoon. "Well start as soon as it's safe and work all-out. A fresh void means lots of eggs and we can go back to town for more supplies and a new raft. Then back again for more!"
Greed reflected itself in Vardoon's voice, his eyes, but left Dumarest unaffected. Once back in town and the ardeel converted to money he would be on the next ship to leave Sacaweena,
"What are you going to do with it, Earl? Your share, I mean. How are you going to use the money?"
"Keeping snug," said Dumarest. "Keeping fed. Keeping cool!"
"A planet of solid ice. Right?"
Dumarest nodded and drained his cup. "Any of that brandy left?" As Vardoon poured he said, "And you, Hart? How are you going to spend a fortune?"
"On a game." Vardoon smiled as he met Dumarest's eyes. "The best and biggest game I know."
"One that takes money?"
"All the damn money I can get. And we'll get it, Earl, you and me. You're lucky and it rubs off. I knew that back on Polis when we both survived. You've proved it here on Sacaweena. You know how many have seen a female vrek void? You could count them on one hand. Can you guess how many eggs are out there? What they will bring? Luck, Earl, you can't beat it. Here, drink to luck."
Dumarest watched as brandy slopped into his cup, more into Vardoon's. He said, "Luck? I'll drink to that."
The spirit burned as he sipped, worked fast on Vardoon as he gulped. Euphoria accentuated by intoxication; emotion which yielded a growing relaxation and overwhelming sense of achievement. He was safe, the ardeel as good as won, fortune his together with all it meant. He drank to celebrate, nerves relaxing even more, voice thick with a mounting lassitude, the inevitable reaction from tension maintained too long, fears harbored too deep.
"Luck," he said, "Luck and money, Earl, you ever think how the two run together? Have one and you have both. Luck and money and all it can buy and there's damned little it can't. We'll cash in and come back for another load and another until we have it all. All the ardeel and all the money anyone could ever want." Lifting the bottle he blinked at what was left. "That all? What the hell-let's finish it!"
As the last drained into his cup Dumarest said, "What do you want all that money for, Hart? You want a planet too? One of solid ice?"
"No."
"Then why?"
"I told you." Vardoon swayed where he squatted, eyes filmed, suddenly dull. "I need it to play a game. A game- and the more I have the better my chances. I need it, Earl! Damn you, I need it!"
"Easy, Hart. You'll get it."
"We'll get it, Earl. You and me. Together."
"That's right."
"Let's drink to it." Vardoon tilted his cup over his mouth. "Tired," he muttered as, empty, he lowered it. "Too tired to argue. Sleep, Earl. I must have sleep."
Dumarest watched as he slid to one side, legs straightening, eyes closing, one arm lifting to pillow his head as if he had been a child. Within seconds his breathing became even, shallow, eyelids twitching to signal his dreams.
The bottle lay at hand and Dumarest lifted it, poured the contents of his cup back into the container. A draught for Vardoon in the morning when he would need it. Rising, he left the tent and prowled the narrow confines of the cave, nostrils twitching to acid, acrid odors but missing any trace of insect stench. Back within the tent it was a joy to fill his lungs, a pleasure to sit and pour himself a cup of cold tisane. Vardoon moved as he finished it, muttering, turning, restless in his sleep. A man dangerous in his greed.
Luck still rode with them; the raft was undamaged. Vardoon gusted his relief as he saw the ring of shattered stone blotched with shining copper; debris torn from the hill above the ledge which had remained intact at the cost of the metal.
"It's our day, Earl. Nothing can go wrong now. Let's get at it!"
Together they rode up the slope of the hill, Dumarest handling the controls, frowning at the poor response. The spot where the vrek had voided her eggs was high, seamed with cracks too narrow to provide safe holds. A row of pitons hammered into the wall above provided anchors for suspended ropes, more holding the raft close to the rock. An uneasy union with the craft lifting and dropping as the compensators overreacted.