The Ventur inhaled the brazier smoke, but his golden eyes watched the Terrans.
"Master," he said to the Blademaster, "this much I can tell you — there has not been any off-world ship land here for ten tens of clors — "
Kana tried to translate the time measure. Close to four months' ship time! His mouth set hard.
"And that is not as it was in the past?"
"It is not," the Blademaster was answered. "We do not care for off-world trade, so its lack did not disturb us. But now — perhaps you can read another meaning into this. Also, what can you do if the trade ship comes not? Your enemies hold the port at Tharc."
"One thing at a time. Let me speak to your Masters and then we shall see — "
A tinkle of sound came from the box. The Ventur looked at the mirror. Although the Terrans could make nothing of what he saw there he spoke in a moment or two.
"The Masters summon you to Po'ult to speak with them in private council. And because you have met with treachery on Fronn, there shall be those of master rank who shall sit among your men as hostages while you are gone. To this do you agree?"
"I agree. But when do I go?"
"The first fury of the storm will ebb tonight. They will send a ship in, but you must be ready to return with it at once, for this lull will not last long."
"Am I to go alone?"
"Take one man if you wish. May I suggest this one." A claw finger pointed at Kana. "He speaks the trade tongue well."
Hansu did not object. "Let it be so."
The lull came as the Ventur had foretold. And the two Terrans went with the trader down the sea-slimed steps to the dock. Kana saw the vee of spray cutting down the bay, heralding the approach of a Venturi vessel. It arose from the water and came in to the pier with perfection of handling. Then a hatch in the conning tower opened and four robed figures disembarked. Three glided up to the Terrans, the other remained by the ship.
"This Master Roo'uf, Under-Master Rs'ad, and Under-Master Rr'ol — they shall stay with your men."
Hansu escorted the Venturi back to introduce them to his Swordtans. Then, with Kana at his heels, he climbed the ladder leading to the hatch. Within was a second ladder dropping into green dimness and the Combatants descended while strange odors and stranger noises closed about them as they went. The Venturi spy touched Kana's sleeve and drew him to the left.
"It is the thought of the master of this ship that you would be interested in watching from the lookout as we travel This way."
They squeezed along a passage which was almost too narrow to accommodate Terrans and found themselves in a circular space where a wide seat pad ran three-quarters of the way around, broken only by the door through which they had entered. Directly facing them was a section of what appeared to be transparent glass. And beyond that they could see the clustered buildings of the Landing.
A Ventur without a robe was seated on the pad watching the scene intently. He gave them only a casual gesture of greeting before the dock began to recede and the whole shore line whipped to the right as the ship turned. The voyage to Po'ult had begun.
13. Life or Death Trade
Po'ult rose out of the sea abruptly — the toothed rock walls of the island's rim lifting vertically from the sea without any softening fringe of beach. And on the crest of those walls were no signs of buildings.
Having afforded its passengers a single good look at the island the ship submerged until even the conning tower was under water. The Terrans were led down close to the keel, to wedge themselves into a smaller craft with two of the Venturi. Vibration sang in the walls of that tiny boat but there was no other indication that they had left the parent vessel.
Kana tensed. The sensation of being confined far below the surface of the sea oppressed him. But their voyage did not last long and when the hatch was raised they were in an underground port, a large-scale copy of the subcellar landing place back on the continent.
They saw but little of the Venturi city, being taken along passages chiseled through the native rock to a room near the top of the cliff, one side of which was transparent. Their guide withdrew and Kana went over to that window, craving the feeling of freedom it gave.
"Volcano crater," Hansu observed.
The center of the island was a cup, its walls terraced and planted, a grove of trees extending into a miniature woodland in the depth of the hollow. But there were no signs of buildings.
"But where — "
The Blademaster looked beyond the peaceful carpet of vegetation to the crater walls.
"We're in their city now," he explained. "They've hollowed out the cliffs — "
In a moment Kana saw the evidences of that — the regular openings in the rock which must equal such windows as the one before which he now stood.
"What a scheme!" he marveled. "Even a bomber would have a hard time putting this out of commission — unless it dropped hot stuff — "
At the corner of the Blademaster's jaw a tiny muscle pulled tight.
"When the law is broken once, it can be easily fractured again."
"Use hot stuff?" Kana's horrified amazement was genuine. He could accept the enmity of the Mechs, even the struggle for power backed in some mysterious way by Central Control Agents, but the thought of turning to nuclear weapons against — ! Terra had learned too bitter a lesson in the Big Blow-up and the wars which followed. Those had occurred a thousand years ago but they had scarred the memories of his species for all time. He could not conceive of a Terran using nukes — it was so unnatural that it made his head reel.
"We've had evidence enough that this is not just a Mech plot," Hansu pointed out relentlessly. "We may be conditioned against hot stuff because of our past history — but others aren't. And we daren't overlook any possibility — "
That was an axiom of the corps he should have remembered. Never overlook any possibility, be prepared for any change in prospects — in the balance of force against force.
"War Lord" — one of the frog people had come up silently behind them — "the Masters would speak with you."
No hospitality had been offered them before that meeting, Kana noted, disturbed, no gesture made which could be termed friendly. He fell a step behind the Blademaster and stood at attention as they entered a room where four Venturi, their robes laid aside, awaited them.
The soft fabric of their short tunics was a somber blue-purple and there were gems set in their belts and in the broad bracelets they wore encircling all four upper limbs. At some distance squatted a fifth, writing pen in one hand and a block of the mirror stuff on the floor before him.
A single seat pad was placed facing the court and Hansu took his seat there, Kana standing behind him.
"We have been informed of what you wish." The Ventur whose tunic boasted a symbol stitched upon its breast opened the meeting without ceremony. "You wish a place of refuge for your men until you can make contact with your superiors off-world. Why should we be interested in what happens to interlopers, introduced on Fronn through no fault of ours? And since you are now being hunted by the Llor and these new allies of theirs, it might mean that in giving you sanctuary we would bring upon us the wrath of those at Tharc."
"Does not a state of war already exist between you and Tharc?" countered Hansu. "When we crossed the mountains we were met by a party of Llor driven off from an attack on the Landing. From them we rescued one of your men."
The frog-man's broad face displayed no emotion the Terrans could read.