"In the rain I conceived the danger to be slight."
Woudiver made an easy gesture. "I accept your reassurances. How does all proceed?"
"Well enough," said Reith.
Woudiver reached into his sleeve and brought forth a paper. "I have here an account for the deliveries of last night. The total, you will notice, is extremely low, because I was given an inclusive lot price."
Reith unfolded the paper. Black sprawling characters spelled out: Merchandise, as supplied: Sequins 106,800.
Woudiver was saying: "-appears we are proceeding in really wonderful luck. I hope it will last. Only yesterday the Dirdir trapped two thieves working out of the export warehouse and took them instantly to the Glass Box. So, you see, our present security is fragile."
"Woudiver," said Reith, "this bill is too high. Far too high. Further, I don't intend to pay for extra energy-cans."
"The price, as I noted," said Woudiver, "is an inclusive one. The extra cans come at no extra cost. In a sense, they are free."
"This is not the case, and I refuse to pay five times what is reasonable. In fact, I don't have enough money."
"Then you must get some more," said Woudiver softly.
Reith snorted. "You make the task sound so easy."
"It is for some," said Woudiver airily. "A most remarkable rumor circulates the city. It appears that three men, entering the Carabas, slaughtered an astonishing number of Dirdir, subsequently robbing the bodies. The men are described as a youth, fair, like a Kotan steppe-dweller; a renegade Dirdirman; and a dark quiet man of no distinguishable race. The Dirdir are anxious to hunt down these three. Another rumor purports to concern the same three men. The dark man reportedly states his origin to be a far-off world from which he insists all men derive: in my opinion a blasphemy. What do you think of all this?"
"Interesting," said Reith, trying to conceal his despair.
Woudiver permitted himself to smirk. "We are in a vulnerable position. There is danger to myself, grave danger. Should I expose myself for nothing? I assist you from motives of comradeship and altruism of course, but I must receive my recompense."
"I cannot pay so much," said Reith. "You knew approximately the extent of my capital; now you attempt to extort more."
"Why not?" Woudiver could no longer restrain a grin. "Assume that the rumors I cited are accurate; assume that by some wild accident you and your henchmen were the persons in question: then is it not true that you have shamefully deceived me?"
"Assuming as much-not at all."
"What of the wonderful treasure?"
"It is real. Assist me to the best of your abilities. In one month we can depart Tschai. In another month you will be repaid beyond your dreams."
"Where? How?" Woudiver hitched himself forward; he loomed over Reith and his voice came deep and rich from the far caverns of his chest. "Let me ask outright: did you promulgate a tale that the original home of man is a far world? Or even more to the point: do you believe this hideous fantasy?"
Reith, with spirits plunging even deeper, tried to sidestep the quagmire. "We are dealing with side issues. Our arrangement was clear; the rumors you mention have no relevance."
Woudiver slowly, deliberately, shook his head.
"When the spaceship leaves," said Reith, "you shall have every sequin in my possession. I can do no better than that. If you make unreasonable demands..."
He searched for a convincing threat.
Woudiver tilted up the great expanse of his face, chuckled. "What can you do?
You are helpless. One word from me and you are instantly taken to the Glass Box.
What are your options? None. You must do as I demand."
Reith looked around the shed. In the doorway stood Artilo, applying ash-gray snuff to his nostrils. At his belt hung a handgun.
Deine Zarre approached. Ignoring Woudiver he spoke to Reith. "The energy-cans are not to my order. They are a nonstandard size and appear to have been used for an indeterminate period. They must be rejected."
Woudiver's eyes narrowed, his mouth jerked. "What? They are excellent canisters."
Deine Zarre said in a toneless but utterly definite voice, "For our purposes they are useless." He departed. The boy and the girl looked after him wistfully.
Woudiver turned to examine them, with what appeared to Reith a peculiar intensity.
Reith waited. Woudiver swung about. For a moment he regarded Reith through narrow-lidded eyes. "Well, then," said Woudiver, "it seems that different energy-cans are needed. How do you propose to pay for them?"
"In the usual way. Take back those eight cans of junk; provide four fresh cans and submit an itemized bill. A fair account I am able to pay just barely. Don't forget, I must meet labor costs."
Woudiver considered. Deine Zarre crossed the shed to speak to the boy and girl and Woudiver was distracted. He strutted over to join the group. Reith, limp with fatigue, went to the workbench and poured himself a mug of tea, which he drank with a shaking hand.
Woudiver had become extremely affable, and went so far as to pat the boy on the head. Deine Zarre stood stiff, his face the color of wax.
Woudiver at last turned away. He crossed the shed to Artilo, spoke a moment or two. Artilo went outside, where blasts of wind sent ripples scurrying across the puddles.
Woudiver signaled Reith with one hand, Deine Zarre with the other. The two approached. Woudiver sighed with vast melancholy. "You two are dedicated to my poverty. You insist on the most exquisite refinements but refuse to pay. So be it. Artilo is taking away the canisters you so condemn. Zarre, come with me now and select cells to suit your needs."
"At this moment? I must take care of the two children."
"Now. At once. Tonight I visit my little property. I will not return for a period. It is evident that my help is undervalued here."
Deine Zarre acquiesced with poor grace. He spoke to the boy and girl, then departed with Woudiver.
Two hours passed. The sun, breaking through the clouds, sent a single ray down upon Hei, so that the scarlet and purple towers glittered against the black sky.
Down the road came Woudiver's black car. It rolled to a halt in front of the shed; Artilo alighted. He sauntered into the shed. Reith watched him, wondering as to his air of purposefulness. Artilo approached the boy and girl, stood looking down at them, and they in turn looked up, eyes wide in their pale faces.
Artilo spoke a few terse words; Reith could see the corded muscles at the back of his jaw jerk as he spoke. The children looked dubiously across the room at Reith, then reluctantly started to move toward the door. Traz spoke to Reith in a low urgent voice: "Something is wrong. What does he want with them?"
Reith moved forward. He asked, "Where are you taking these two?"
"No affair of yours."
Reith turned to the children. "Don't go with this man. Wait until your uncle returns."
The girl said, "He says he is taking us to our uncle."
"He can't be believed. Something is wrong."
Artilo turned to face Reith, an act as sinister as the coiling of a snake. He spoke in a soft voice. "I have my orders. Stand away."
"Who gave you the orders? Woudiver?"
"It is no concern of yours." He motioned to the two children. "Come." His hand went under his old gray jacket and he watched Reith sidelong.
The girl said, "We are not going with you."
"You must. I'll carry you."
"Touch them and I'll kill you," said Reith in a flat voice.
Artilo gave him a cool stare. Reith braced himself, muscles creaking with tension. Artilo brought forth his hand; Reith saw the dark shape of a weapon. He lunged, chopped down at the cold hard arm. Artilo had been expecting this; from the sleeve of his other hand sprang a long blade, which he thrust at Reith's side, so swiftly that Reith, whirling away, felt the sting of the edge. Artilo sprang back, knife poised, though he had lost the handgun. Reith, intoxicated with fury and the sudden release of tension, edged forward, eyes fixed on the unblinking Artilo. Reith feinted. Artilo reacted by not so much as a quiver.