"Extraordinary. When will Deine Zarre have his list in hand?"
"Perhaps -it is finished now."
Deine Zarre had not finished his list but did so while Woudiver waited.
Scanning the list with head thrown back and eyes half-closed, Woudiver said, "I fear that the expense will be in excess of your reserves."
"I hope not," said Reith. "How much do you reckon?"
"I can't say for certain; I do not know. But with rent, labor costs, your original investments, you cannot have too much money left." He looked at Reith questioningly.
The last thing Reith planned to do was confide in Woudiver. "It is essential then that we keep costs to a minimum."
"Three basic costs must be met without fail," intoned Woudiver. "The rent, my fees, honorariums to my associates. What remains may be spent as you will. This is my point of view. And now be so good as to tender me two thousand sequins, for the honorariums. The materials, should you be unable to pay, can be returned without prejudice and at no cost other than drayage fees."
Gloomily Reith handed over two thousand sequins. He made a mental calculation: of something like two hundred and twenty thousand sequins brought from the Carabas, less than half remained.
Somewhat later a smaller wagon arrived, with eight canisters of fuel. Traz and Anacho started to unload these, but Reith stopped them. "One moment." He went into the shed where Deine Zarre checked items off his list. "Did you order fuel?"
"Yes."
Deine Zarre seemed pensive, thought Reith, as if his mind wandered afield.
"How long will a canister of fuel drive the ship?"
"Two are needed, one for each cell. These will give about two months' service."
"Eight canisters have been delivered."
"I ordered four, to ensure two spares."
Reith returned to the dray. "Take off four," he told Traz and Anacho. The driver sat in the shadow of the cab. Reith leaned in to address him, and to his surprise saw Artilo, apparently in no anxiety to identify himself. Reith said,
"You brought eight cans of fuel; we ordered four."
"Yellow said to bring eight."
"We only need four. Take four back."
"Can't be done. Talk to Big Yellow."
"I need only four cans. That's all I'm taking. Do what you like with the others."
Artilo, whistling between his teeth, jumped from the cab, unloaded the four extra canisters, carried them over to the shed. Then he climbed back into the dray and drove off.
The three stood looking after him. Anacho said in a toneless voice, "Trouble is on its way."
"I expect so," said Reith.
"The fuel cells," said Anacho, "are no doubt Woudiver's own property. Perhaps he stole them, perhaps he bought them on the cheap. Here is an excellent chance to dispose of them at a profit."
Traz made a growling sound in his throat. "Woudiver should be made to carry away the cells on his back."
Reith gave an uneasy laugh. "If I only knew how to make him.
"He fears for his life, like anyone else."
"True. But we can't cut off our nose to spite our face."
In the morning Woudiver did not arrive to hear the statements which Reith had brooded upon a large part of the night. Reith drove himself to work, with the thought of Woudiver pressing on him like the weight of doom.
On this morning Deine Zarre was not on hand either, and the technicians muttered among themselves more freely than they dared in Deine Zarre's presence. Reith presently desisted from his work and made a survey of the project. There were, he thought, good grounds for optimism. The major components were installed; the delicate job of tuning proceeded at a satisfactory rate. At these jobs Reith, though acquainted with Earth space-drive systems, was helpless. He was not even certain that the drives functioned by the same principles.
About noon a line of black clouds broke over the palisades like a scud of surf.
Carina 4269 went wan, faded through tones of brown, and disappeared; moments later rain swept the eerie landscape, blotting Hei from sight, and now plodding through the rain came Deine Zarre, followed by a pair of thin children: a boy of twelve, a girl three or four years older. The three trudged into the shed, where they stood shivering. Deine Zarre seemed drained of energy; the children were numb.
Reith broke up some crates, lit a fire in the middle of the shed. He found some coarse cloth and tore it into towels. "Dry yourselves. Take off your jackets and get warm."
Deine Zarre looked at him uncomprehendingly, then slowly obeyed. The children followed suit. They were evidently brother and sister, quite possibly Deine Zarre's grandchildren. The boy's eyes were blue; those of the girl were a beautiful slate gray.
Reith brought forth hot tea and at last Deine Zarre spoke. "Thank you. We are almost dry." And a moment later: "The children are in my care; they will be with me. If you find the prospect inconvenient, I must give up my employment."
"Of course not," said Reith. "They are welcome here, as long as they understand the need for silence."
"They will say nothing." Deine Zarre looked at the two. "Do you understand?
Whatever you see must not be mentioned elsewhere."
The three were in no mood for conversation. Reith, sensing desolation and misery, lingered. The children watched him warily. "I can't offer you dry clothes," said Reith. "But are you hungry? We have food on hand."
The boy shook his head with dignity; the girl smiled and became suddenly charming. "We have had no breakfast."
Traz, who had been standing to the side, ran to the larder and presently returned with seed-bread and soup. Reith watched gravely. It appeared that Traz's emotions had been affected. The girl was appealing, if somewhat peaked and miserable.
Deine Zarre finally stirred himself. He pulled his steaming garments taut and went to inspect the work done in his absence.
Reith tried to make conversation with the children. "Are you becoming dry?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Define Zarre is your grandfather?"
"Our uncle."
"I see. And now you are to live with him?"
"Yes."
Reith could find nothing more to say. Traz was more direct. "What happened to your father and mother?"
"They were killed, by Fairos; " said the girl softly. The boy blinked.
Anacho said, "You must be from the Eastern Skyrise."
"Yes."
"How did you get from there to here?"
"We walked."
"It is a long way, and dangerous."
"We were lucky." The two stared into the fire. The girl winced, recalling the circumstances of their flight.
Reith went off to find Deine Zarre. "You have new responsibilities."
Deine Zarre darted Reith a sharp look. "That is correct."
"You work here for less than you deserve to be paid, and I want to increase your salary."
Deine Zarre gave a gruff nod. "I can put the money to use."
Reith returned to the floor of the shed, to find Woudiver standing in the doorway, a vast bulbous silhouette. His attitude was one of shocked disapproval.
Today he wore another of his grand outfits: black plush breeches tight around his massive legs, a coat of purple and brown with a dull yellow sash. He marched forward to stare fixedly down at the boy and girl, one to the other. "Who built this fire? What do you do here?"
The girl quavered: "We were wet; the gentleman warmed us before the fire."
"Aha. And who is this gentleman?"
Reith came forward. "I am the gentleman. These are relations of Deine Zarre. I built the fire to dry them."
"What of my property? A single spark and all goes up in flames!"