Kerbol pointed. "There." He nudged the pilot. "Land beside that light."
"Impossible," muttered the pilot. "We are over Palkwarkz Ztvo-wild-man country. They'll put us in their pots."
"No, they won't," said Barch. "Land beside the light."
The barge sank. Blackness reached up past them; there was a crash, a snapping of foliage. The raft reached ground.
Barch looked warily out into the darkness. All was quiet. He turned to the pilot. "Get out."
The pilot hesitated, clinging to the protection of his dome. "What are you going to do with me?"
"Nothing."
The pilot jumped, made a quick dash for the underbrush. Barch tackled him around the knees; both fell into the soggy humus. Barch rose, seized the man by the collar of his jacket, marched him back past the barge, up the slope. Kerbol came after like a stealthy gray bear.
Barch entered the hall with the pilot. The entire tribe was huddled around the great table talking heatedly; Barch stood watching the play of firelight on the un-Earthly features.
There was a hiss, the talk halted; faces swung around as if operated by a lever.
Barch gave the pilot to Kerbol. "Lower him into one of the potholes on a rope." He turned back to the big table. "We've two or three hours work outside. Let's get it over with. Bring out your knives and axes."
There was uneasy movement, slow uncomfortable rising to the feet. Barch watched impassively.
Flatface said in a surly voice, "Work is for daytime. This is night. Let the work wait." The others watched anxiously, poised and uncertain as rabbits.
This was the first test, the most important. Barch made no sudden move. He waited, let the suspense build up. Flatface nervously glanced at Barch's gun. Barch said softly, "Where is your axe, Flatface?"
Flatface motioned to the wall. "There it lies."
"Get it!"
Flatface slowly gained his feet. Barch jumped two quick steps forward. There was a startled swaying back. "Everybody! Outside!" He took the two lamps, went to the entrance, waited while the tribesmen filed out past him.
In the lamplight the barge was a large dark shape, vastly more impressive than words Barch could have used inside the cave. "There's your spaceship."
The tribesmen muttered with awe, excitement.
"Tomorrow we'll unload the cargo, but tonight we've got to cover it over with branches so it can't be seen from above."
Barch pulled himself up from his couch with the first glimmer of light. He pulled on the Modok smock, went out to inspect the barge. It seemed to fill half the flat, like a whale in the front yard.
To check the camouflage he mounted the raft, floated up into the sky. The forest was a matted black tangle, the barge an extension of the same tangle. Satisfied, he dropped back to the ground.
It was essential that the Klau remained ignorant of his plans. He must avoid giving them provocation. In one sense, killing the Klau yesterday was a mistake. But it had been necessary-an act which had given him an aura of power that killing Clet ten times would have failed to do. In the future he might have to back down on some of his fire-eating threats. Avoid the Podruods as best as possible; fight if cornered.
He circled the barge. The seamless hull rose four feet over his head. He tried to visualize a super-structure, and achieved only the picture of a deck-house on a sea-going freighter.
He climbed aboard. About half the cargo was crates of various sizes. Toward the bow lay four bundles of heavy pipe, a half-dozen mechanisms, apparently drill torches, a dozen spools of smooth cable. A good haul, thought Barch. He revised his mental picture from a deck-house to a dome of air-tight fabric over the barge, held down against air pressure by a net of cables.
He jumped to the ground, returned to the hall. Standing by the fire, he watched the women set out pots of gruel to boil.
Kerbol came blinking into the room, followed by the dour woman who was his mate. Barch felt a sudden sense of warmth, companionship. He had at least one friend in Palkwarkz Ztvo.
After breakfast he took Kerbol out to the barge, to inspect the cargo. Kerbol snapped open a crate marked with black and red symbols; inside were cannisters the size of apples.
"Those are abiloid," said Kerbol, "a slow explosive. This" -he opened a smaller crate, which held dense semi-metallic bars supported on a red plastic rack-"is super."
"Super-what?"
Kerbol shrugged. "Super is what they call it at the quarry. A small cut of super is equal to ten crates of abiloid. But it's fast. It smashes. Abiloid pushes."
"I hope you can detonate them."
Kerbol picked out one of the cans of abiloid, touched a wisp of thread. "This is the three minute timer. To detonate the super, you set it under a can of abiloid."
"It's all yours," said Barch. "There are you torches. Pick yourself a helper and open out Big Hole."
Barch returned to the cave, sent Flatface out in charge of a hunting crew.
At noon Kerbol reported the cave wall ready for firing. Barch doubtfully eyed the sky. Fog was creeping down the slope of Mount Kebali. "We'd better wait till dark. Then if any Klau fly over, the hole in the mountain won't hit them in the eye."
By mid-afternoon, the fog shrouded Palkwarkz Ztvo. Barch signaled Kerbol. "Set off your shots."
A few minutes later six blasts sent streamers of mist flying.
Barch entered the hall, took the down passage past Clet's old chamber, leaned over the pit at whose bottom sat the pilot. "Feel like working?"
The pilot looked up sullenly. "Kill me and have done."
"I don't want to kill you. I need your help. I wouldn't keep you in this hole if I thought you wouldn't run away."
The pilot's face became instantly cheerful. "I have nowhere to go; I cast my lot with yours."
Barch grinned. "That's a sensible decision, quickly arrived at." He lowered the rope, the pilot jerked himself up nimbly.
Barch took him to the barge, pointed to the gap in Big Hole.
"I want the barge inside."
The pilot swung himself quickly into the dome. "The work of an instant."
Barch climbed aboard behind the pilot. "We'll fly in together."
"As you wish," said the pilot peevishly.
The barge rose off the ground, glided up the slope, inched inside the gap. Two fires burned on a level area at the far end. "Land between the two fires," said Barch.
The barge slid through dimness. Stalactities, stalagmites clicked and crashed to the floor.
The barge grounded. Barch saw Kerbol already had men at work piling rocks back into the opening. He turned to the pilot. "How is it that the Klau trust you with a barge? Aren't they afraid you'll escape to the hills?"
The pilot made a supple gesture. "What would I gain? We pilots live well. In the hills the wild men eat each other like garfish."
Barch forebore to challenge the statement. "What would happen if you went back now?"
"I would be discredited."
Barch studied the pilot's mercurial face. "I don't want to kill you," he said slowly. "But I don't want the Klau to come looking for their barge."
"Far from likely."
"Unless you carried them tales."
The pilot blew out his cheeks. "My loyalty is yours forever."
"No one here but you knows how to pilot the barge. In a sense, you are essential to the success of our plan."
"And what is this plan?"