"Not so! " cried Etzwane. "Dead folk are no good to anyone. Karazan! " He shook the massive shoulders. "Listen! Do you hear me? If you ever want to see Lake Nior again, listen! "
He thought that a flicker of response appeared in Karazan's eyes. "We are not without hope! Ifness is alive; he will find us."
One of the other Alula asked anxiously, "Do you really believe this?"
"If you knew Ifness you would never doubt it! The man cannot tolerate defeat."
"This may be," said the Alula, "but how does this avail when we are lost upon a far star?"
From Karazan's throat came a hoarse sound and then words. "How can he find us?"
"I don't know," Etzwane admitted, "but I will never lose hope. " Karazan said in a throbbing voice, "It is foolish to speak of hope. In vain did you draw me back."
"If you are a brave man you will hope," said Etzwane. " 'Death-seek' is the easy way."
Karazan made no reply. Once more he seated himself, then stretching out full-length he slept. The other Alula muttered together, turning cool glances toward Etzwane, as if his interference with Karazan's "death-seek " were not to their liking… Etzwane went to his accustomed place and presently fell asleep.
The Alula had become unfriendly. Pointedly they ignored Etzwane and pitched their voices so that he could not hear. Karazan did not share the hostility, but sat off by himself, twirling a weighted thong around his finger.
The next time Etzwane slept, he awoke suddenly to. find three Alula standing over him: Black Hulanik, Fairo the Handsome, Ganim Thornbranch. Ganim Thornbranch carried a length of cord. Etzwane sat up, energy gun ready at hand. He remembered Hozman Sore-throat and his lolling tongue. The Alula, blank-faced, moved off across the room.
Etzwane reflected a few moments, then went to Karazan. "Some of your men were about to kill me."
Karazan nodded ponderously and twirled his thong.
"What is the reason for this?"
It seemed that Karazan might make no response. Then, with something of an effort, he said, 'There is no particular reason. They want to kill someone and have selected you. It is a game of sorts."
"I don't care to join," Etzwane declared in a brassy voice. "They can play with someone from their own group. Order them to let me be. " Karazan shrugged lethargically. It makes little difference."
"Not to you. To me it makes a great deal of difference."
Karazan shrugged and twirled his thong.
Etzwane went off to consider the situation. So long as he remained awake, he would live. When he slept, he would die-perhaps not the first, nor even the second time. They would play with him, try to break his nerve. Why? No reason. A game, the malicious sport of a barbarian tribe. Cruelty? Etzwane was the outsider, a non-Alula with no more status than a chumpa captured for the baiting.
Several recourses suggested themselves. He could shoot his tormentors and abate the nuisance once and for all. A solution not wholly satisfactory. Even if the asutra failed to confiscate the gun, the game would continue in a more vicious form, with everyone waiting until he slept. The best defense was offense, thought Etzwane. He rose to his feet and crossed the chamber, as if on his way to the latrine. His eyes fell on the still form of Rune the Willow Wand; she seemed less appealing than before; she was, after all, an Alula barbarian, no better than her fellows… Etzwane turned aside to the room containing the bags of meal cake and the water tanks. In the doorway he halted to inspect the group. They looked back askance. Smiling grimly Etzwane brought forward a case of food and seated himself. The Alula watched with alert but expressionless faces. Etzwane once more rose to his feet. He took a wafer of the meal cake and a mug of water. Reseating himself, he ate and drank. He noticed several of the Alula licking their lips. As if by common impulse, all turned away and somewhat ostentatiously gave themselves to slumber.
Karazan looked on soberly, his noble forehead creased in a frown. Etzwane ignored him. What if Karazan wanted food and drink? Etzwane had come to no firm decision. He would probably provide Karazan his sustenance.
Upon consideration he moved back into the shadows, where he was less vulnerable to a thrown knife: the obvious response of the Alula. Presently, dissatisfied with his arrangements, he stacked several boxes of meal to provide a barricade behind which he could see but not be seen.
He began to feel drowsy. His eyelids sagged… He awoke with a start to notice one of the Alula sidling close.
"Two more steps and you're a dead man," said Etzwane.
The Alula stopped short. "Why should you deny me water? I took no part in the baiting."
"You did nothing to control the three who did. Starve and thirst in their company-until they are dead."
"This is not fair! You do not reckon with our customs."
To the contrary. It is now I who do the baiting. When Fairo the Handsome, Ganim Thornbranch, and Black Hulanik are dead, you shall drink."
The thirsty Alula turned slowly away. Karazan intoned, "It is an ill thing which has occurred."
"You might have stopped it," said Etzwane. "You chose to do nothing."
Rising to his feet Karazan glared into the provisions locker; for a moment he seemed the Karazan of old. Then his shoulders slumped. He said, 'This is true. I gave no instructions; why worry about one death when all are doomed?"
"I happen to worry about my death," said Etzwane. "And now I am doing the baiting, and the victims are Fairo, Ganim, Hulanik."
Karazan looked toward the three named men; every eye in the room followed his gaze. The three men made defiant grimaces and glared about them.
Karazan spoke in a conciliatory voice. "Let us put aside this business; it is unnecessary and unreasonable."
"Why did you not say this while I was being baited? " demanded Etzwane in a fury. "When the three are dead you will eat and drink."
Karazan settled once more to his previous position. Time passed. At first there was an ostentatious show of solidarity with the three, then other groups formed, talking in whispers. The three huddled back between the racks, and their glass knives glittered from the shadows.
Etzwane dozed once more. He awoke, intensely aware of danger. The chamber was still. Etzwane rose to his knees and backed further into the shadows. Across the outer chamber the Alula were watching. Someone had reached the wall and now sidled inch by inch, out of Etzwane's range of vision, toward the provision locker. Who?
Karazan no longer sat by the wall.
A paralyzing roar; a vast shape filled the aperture. Etzwane pulled the trigger, more by startlement than design. He saw a star-shaped dazzle as the flame struck into a great face. The lunging man was instantly dead. His body tottered into the wall and fell over backward.
Etzwane came slowly out into the room, which was hushed in horror. He stood looking down at the corpse, wondering what Karazan had intended, for Karazan carried no weapon. He had known Karazan as a large-souled man: simple, direct, and benevolent. Karazan deserved better than his cramped, despairing fate. He looked along the silent white faces. "The responsibility is yours. You tolerated malice and now you have lost your great leader."
Among the Alula there was a furtive shifting of position, a secret interchange of glances. Change came so quickly as to numb the mind: from dazed torpor to wild, screaming activity. Etzwane stumbled back against the wall. Alula leapt through the air; there was slashing and hacking and the doing of grisly deeds; and in a moment all was finished. On the deck Fairo, Ganim Thornbranch, Black Hulanik wallowed in their own blood, and two other men as well.
Etzwane said, "Quick, before the asutra arrive. Drag the bodies into the racks. Find room on the shelves."