"Let me get her down, sir," Dall asked. "I’ll take some rope and climb up after her. It’s the only way. Like getting a cat out of a tree."
Stane pushed the thought around. "It looks like the best answer," he finally said. "Get the light-weight 200-metre line and the climbing irons out of the ship. Don’t take too long, it’ll be getting dark soon."
The irons chunked into the wood and Dall climbed carefully up to the lower limbs. Above him the girl stirred and he had a quick glimpse of the white patch of her face as she looked down at him. He started climbing again until Arnild’s voice snapped at him.
"Hold it! She’s climbing higher. Staying above you."
"What’ll I do, Commander?" Dall asked, settling himself in the fork of one of the big branches. He felt exhilarated by the climb, his skin tingling slightly with sweat. He mapped open his collar and breathed deeply.
"Keep going. She can’t climb any higher than the top of the tree."
The climbing was easier now, the branches smaller and closer together. He went slowly so as not to frighten the girl into a misstep. The ground was out of sight, far below. They were alone in their own world of leaves and swaying boughs, the silver tube of the hovering Eye the only reminder of the watchers from the ship. Dall stopped to tie a loop in the end of the rope, doing it carefully so the knot would hold. For the first time since they had started on this mission he felt as if he was doing a full part. The two old warhorses weren’t bad shipmates, but they oppressed him with the years of their experience. But this was something he could do best and he whistled softly through his teeth with the thought.
It would have been possible for the girl to have climbed higher, the branches could have held her weight. But for some reason she had retreated out along a branch. Another, close to it, made a perfect handhold, and he shuffled slowly after her.
"No reason to be afraid," he said cheerfully, and smiled. "Just want to get you down safely and back to your friends. Why don’t you grab onto this rope?"
The girl just shuddered and backed away. She was young and good to look at, dressed only in a short, fur kilt. Her hair was long, but had been combed and caught back of her head with a thong. The only thing that appeared alien about her was her fear. As he came closer he could see she was drenched with it. Her legs and arms shook with a steady vibration. Her teeth were clamped into her whitened lips and a thin trickle of blood reached to her chin. He hadn’t thought it possible that human eyes could have stared so widely, or have been so filled with desperation.
"You don’t have to be afraid," he repeated, stopping just out of reach. The branch was thin and springy. If he tried to grab her they might both be bounced off it. He didn’t want any accidents to happen now. Slowly puffing the rope from the coil, Dall tied it about his waist, then made a loop around the next branch. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the girl stir and look around wildly.
"Friends!" he said, trying to calm her. He translated it into Slaver, she had seemed to understand that before. "Noi’r venn!"
Her mouth opened wide and her legs contracted. The scream was terrible and more like a tortured animal’s cry than a human voice. It confused him and he made a desperate grab. It was too late.
She didn’t fall. With all her strength she hurled herself from the limb, jumping towards the certain death she preferred to his touch. For a heartbeat she seemed to hang, contorted and fear-crazed, at the apex of her leap, before gravity clutched hold and pulled her crashing down through the leaves. Then Dall was falling too, grabbing for nonexistent handholds.
The safety line he had tried held fast. In a half-daze he worked his way back to the trunk and fumbled loose the knots. With quivering precision he made his way hack to the ground. It took a long time and a blanket was drawn over the deformed thing in the grass before he reached it. He didn’t have to ask if she was dead.
"I tried to stop her. I did my best." There was a slight touch of shrillness to Dall’s voice.
"Of course, Commander Stane told him, as he spread out the contents of the girl’s waist pouch. "We were watching with the Eye. There was no way to stop her when she decided to jump."
"No need to talk Slaver to her either —" Arnild said, coming out of the ship. He was going to add something, but he caught Commander Stane’s direct look and shut his mouth. Dali saw it too.
"I forgot!" the young man said, looking back and forth at their expressionless faces. "I just remembered she had understood Slaver. I didn’t think it would frighten her. It was a mistake maybe, but anyone can make a mistake! I didn’t want her to die…"
He clamped his trembling jaws shut with an effort, and turned away.
"You better get some food started," Commander Stane told him. As soon as the port had closed he pointed to the girl’s body. "Bury her under the trees. I’ll help you.
It was a brief meal, none of them were very hungry. Stane sat at the chart table afterward pushing the hard green fruit around with his forefinger. "This is what she was doing in the tree — why she couldn’t pull the vanishing act like the others. Picking fruit. She had nothing else in the pouch. Our landing next to the tree and trapping her was pure accident." He glanced at Dall’s face, then turned quickly away
"It’s too dark to see now, do we wait for morning?" Arnild asked. He had a hand gun disassembled on the table, adjusting and oiling the parts.
Commander Stane nodded. "It can’t do any harm — and it’s better than stumbling around in the dark. Leave an Eye with an infra-red projector and filter over the village and make a recording. Maybe we can find out where they all went."
"I’ll stay at the Eye controls," Dall said suddenly. "I’m not… sleepy. I might find something out."
The Commander hesitated for a moment, then agreed. "Wake me if you see anything. Otherwise, get us up at dawn."
The night was quiet and nothing moved in the silent village of huts. At first light Commander Stane and Dall walked down the hill, an Eye floating ahead to cover them. Arnild stayed behind in the locked ship, at the controls.
"Over this way, sir," Dall said. "Something I found during the night when I was making sweeps with the Eye."
The pit edges had been softened and rounded by the weather, large trees grew on the slopes. At the bottom, projecting from a pool of water, were the remains of rusted machinery.
"I think they’re excavation machines," Dall said. "Though it’s hard to tell, they’ve been down there so long."
The Eye dropped down to the bottom of the pit and nosed close to the wreckage. It sank below the water and emerged after a minute, trailing a wet stream.
"Digging machines, all right," Arnild reported. "Some of them turned over and half buried, like they fell in the hole. And all of them Slaver built."
Commander Stane looked up intently. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"Sure as I can read a label."
"Let’s get on to the village," the Commander said, chewing thoughtfully at the inside of his cheek.
Dali the Younger discovered where the villagers had gone. It was really no secret, they found out in the first hut they entered. The floor was made of pounded dirt, with a circle of rocks for a fireplace. All the other contents were of the simplest and crudest. Heavy, unfired clay pots, untanned furs, some eating utensils chipped out of hard wood. Dall was poking through a heap of woven mats behind the fireplace when he found the hole.
"Over here, sir!" he called.
The opening was almost a metre in diameter and sank into the ground at an easy angle. The floor of the tunnel was beaten as hard as the floor of the hut.