"They eat all the time," said Yamamaten. "And they never stop growing. The rate is constant but, of course, the larger they get the slower they grow. A matter of mass-intake and metabolic conversion, but you aren't interested in the biological data."
"Why do you keep it?"
"As a watch-dog. If anything comes over that wall it won't get away alive. They can be trained given patience and will follow a few simple orders. Just like a dog, in fact. When it gets too big I'll have it shipped to a zoo or set it free in the hills." The agent picked a long, thin wooden rod from a bundle which stood beside the door. "Now remember this. The brain is here." He tapped the creature on the reverse of the sloping skull. "It's small and well protected by thick bone. It can't easily be reached from above but if you can get the thing to rear you'll be able to reach it from beneath. Strike up and towards the tail from just behind the hinge of the lower jaw. For a big one you'll need a blade at least two feet long, plenty of thrust and a liking for having the flesh stripped from your bones by the front claws."
"The heart?"
"In the center just behind the front legs." Again the tip of the rod marked the point. "If you want to hit the spine aim here." The agent moved the rod. "The bone is thin and flexible. You can reach the gut from either side just before the back legs. Be careful of the stomach-plates, though, and watch the tail." He grunted as the creature snapped off the end of the rod with a flash of gleaming white teeth. "I don't have to warn you about the jaws."
"Any peculiarities?"
"You've hunted," said Yamamaten. "Not many would think to ask that. Well, they don't like to face the sun so it helps to keep it at your back. They can smell better than they can see so keep to windward. And they can hear better than any other animal I know. Move and they'll hear you, spot your position and move in before you know it. And don't try to run. They can catch a running man before he's covered a score of yards." Smiling he added, with grim humor, "Aside from that they're easy enough to kill."
Chapter Thirteen
From where he hung over the side of the raft Navalok shouted, "There, Earl! There-to the right and down!"
From his seat at the controls Dumarest saw a scarred slope dotted with scrub, a patch of shadow and something which could have been the opening of a cave. Cutting the power to the antigrav units he allowed the vehicle to fall and come to rest on the slope below the opening.
"Navalok! Wait!"
The boy ignored the command, springing from the raft to run up the slope towards the opening. Dumarest followed more slowly, eyes searching the terrain, noting each rock and clump of scrub. Predators were rare this high in the hills, but there could be stragglers and even a small olcept was to be treated with respect. Above the sun beat down from the zenith and the sky, a clear azure, stretched cloudless to the horizon. A fine day-the second they had been searching.
"Earl!" Dumarest heard the cry of triumph then the bleak admission of failure which followed. "No. No it isn't the one. It's just a shallow cave like all the others. Earl, I'm sorry."
Dumarest led the way back to the raft, lifted it as the boy climbed in. He set the controls so as to hover twenty feet above the ground.
"Navalok, listen to me. When you left the House with your father you headed north. Right?"
"Yes, Earl, as I told you. We traveled from an hour after dawn until noon when we set down and made camp. We ate and I went wandering over the slopes. It must have been say, two hours after landing, maybe a little more."
"And?"
That's it, Earl. I found the place and called my father and we examined it and he said we should return to the House without delay. We climbed into the raft and he set the course and-" His voice broke, but he forced himself to continue. "And then we crashed."
"When was that? Late in the afternoon?"
"Yes. It was dusk before they found us. My father was dead and I was hurt. For a long time I didn't know what had happened, just that I kept having dreams of falling. When I was strong enough they told me father was dead." He added, bleakly, "And that I would be a cripple for the rest of my life."
A lie, a simple operation could cure the boy's injured foot, and Dumarest wondered at the stern morality which had prevented it from having been done. The pride of bearing visible wounds, perhaps, or the result of some harsh tradition born in the past. A matter which faded into insignificance beside one of greater importance.
Where was the cave?
The boy had been certain he knew exactly where it was to be found. He's been wrong and had since compounded the error. Now he was searching with a wild, desperate abandon, trusting more to luck than anything else. A fact he must know and Dumarest had waited for him to realise it.
"Let's start from the beginning," he said. "When you headed north at what point did you aim? Your father must have had some guide. A peak, perhaps, or a pass, try to remember." And then, as the boy began to speak he snapped, harshly, "Think, boy! Think! Close your eyes, remember. You are with your father again, just setting out. It is a clear day and the raft is moving towards a certain point. You know what it is. Tell me!"
"The Prime of the Triades, Earl." Navalok opened his eyes. "It's the highest of three peaks and lies a little to the east of true north. But we've checked it."
One peak of several, the boy impatient, claiming to have recognised familiar signs, guiding the raft well to the east of the Prime. Dumarest lifted the vehicle higher and sent it towards the specified point. Before he reached it he sent the raft towards the House, turned, headed towards the peak as if they had come directly from the ancient building.
"There!" Excitement made the boy's voice shrill. "Earl! There!"
"No."
"It is, Earl. It is."
The spot at which he pointed was too steep for anyone to make camp and, despite the shadow of an opening, Dumarest moved away from it. A jutting promontory lay a little to one side and lower down, scrub thick at the edges and a natural spot for a raft to make a landing. From a height of a dozen feet Dumarest examined the stoney dirt, saw the traces of a long dead fire.
"Do others come here?"
"Yes, Earl. It's a favorite place. Often fathers bring out their children for private tuition."
Long hours spent in learning how to handle a gun. A good place for teaching and one Navalok's father would have known. Dumarest landed, checked the area, and leaving the raft moved towards the uprising slope of the hill.
"Left or right, Navalok? Can you remember?" Then as the boy hesitated, he said, "It was past noon. Which way was your shadow? Behind you, before you, to one side?"
"Behind me," said the boy after a moment's thought. "I walked towards the sun. This way, I think." His hand lifted, pointed. "Yes, Earl. This way."
A small boy wandering at random over rock-strewn slopes, his face towards the sun. The light and the bad footing would have kept his head lowered and so narrowed the field of his vision. His father, watching, would have suspected no danger so the path must have been one of relative safety. A section of the hill clear of scrub, then, and one of easy access. And it was in the nature of an agile young boy to climb.
As it was the tendency of a child to exaggerate the size of an opening.
Navalok had been looking for an open cave-what he had found was a narrow vent half-hidden by fallen debris and masked by a mass of scrub.
Looking at it again he said, dubiously, "I'm not sure, Earl. The place I found was larger and more open."