"And you mine them?"
"No, Earl, hunt for them. Here, mostly." He rested his hand on a map hanging beside the safe. "In the Goulten Hills. With a little luck a man could pick up a fortune."
Kemmer said, "No! For God's sake, man, are you out of your mind? If you want to die why not open a vein and have done with it?" He paced the floor to the far wall, turned, paced back again. Five steps-Marta's room was small. "Earl, you're crazy!"
From where he sat on the edge of the narrow bed Santis rumbled, "Slow down, Maurice. No one's twisting your arm. You don't have to join in."
"Have I a choice?" The trader was bitter. "I'm stuck, caught in this damned trap like a fly on glue. If Marta hadn't died-" He looked at the room, the bare walls, the naked floor. The place was like a cell-only the fact that he could open the door and walk out saved it from being a jail. "But to hunt sannaks! Haven't you had enough of them? The one you faced was big enough but outside they grow ten times as large."
"We're not hunting them," explained Dumarest patiently. "We need to find out where they have their lairs. We don't have to kill them or even see them. All we want is to collect their droppings."
Waste and regurgitations contained the cleaned and polished nodules they ate with other stone from desert and mountain; the trannaks which rested in the vicinity and could buy freedom. Santis nodded as, again, Dumarest relayed what he had learned from Jwani.
"I get it, Earl. The sannaks live on crushed and pulverized rock. They need the minerals, I guess. The trannaks must rest in other material which they swallow, use, then void or spew out the residue. And this character deals in them?"
"Hunts, trades, deals, yes."
Kemmer said, "But why us?"
"Does it matter?" Santis was curt. "Earl's won us a chance. Why look a gift in the mouth?"
Dumarest said, "Jwani is wealthy but does not belong to the Cinque. That means he must pay over a part of every transaction to the Families for the use of the land. From what he told me they take first-cut so unless he's lucky he could end by working for nothing. He has to meet all expenses. It would be natural for him to want to get away with undeclared stones but unless he does his own collecting he lays himself open to blackmail. So he hinted, delicately, that if I were to come to him with some stones he wouldn't ask questions."
"Just buy and forget it, eh?" Santis nodded. "That seems fair enough."
"Like hell it is!" Kemmer halted, glaring. "We'd need a license to prospect, right? And how about protective clothing? Weapons? Supplies?"
"All to be paid for." Dumarest looked from one to the other. "It's a chance but it could pay off."
"Or land us in jail for life." The trader was dubious. "They'll search us when we return and what if they catch us cheating? And, if we don't cheat, where's the point? I'm against it. All the way."
"That's your privilege. Carl?"
"I'm with you, Earl. Maurice is talking like a fool. There are ways to hide a few stones. I've smuggled stuff before and got away with it. And, as you say, it's a chance. Maybe the only one we've got."
"You're too old," said Kemmer. "We're both too old. Out there we'd slow Earl down and be a problem. And what the hell do we know about conditions here? I'm a trader not a hunter. You fight men not beasts. Earl-" He broke off, shrugging. "What's the use. As I said before, I've no choice. And I guess one way is as good as another to die. But can we manage it?"
Dumarest said, "How much did Marta leave?"
"This room to the end of the month. A little food. Some clothes. Some trinkets. A little money." Kemmer was bleak. "Nothing else."
"How about her fees?"
"It costs to die on Harge," explained the mercenary. "The bastards charge for collection and disposal."
There should be compensation," said Kemmer. That red-haired woman broke the jewel and caused Malta's death. Can't we demand something as damages? Take her to court, maybe?"
"She sang," said Dumarest. "And that's all she did. She sang and the jewel broke. All right, we know she did it by inducing a resonance in the gem and we can guess it was deliberate but how to prove it? And Marta was old and hadn't been taking care of herself-no, we'd run into debt for no purpose."
"How about Jwani?" Santis added. "He hopes to gain so why isn't he willing to help us?"
"He's willing to tell us how to find the stones. Supply maps and other things. If he gives more he'll demand a share of the find. A half-the usual arrangement-in return for a stake. And he doesn't want to be associated with us on an official level." Dumarest paused, thinking. "Marta was wily, she knew the value of money. Are you sure they found all she had?"
Kemmer said, "Holding out on us, you mean?"
"She didn't have to do that." Santis was quick to her defense. "She gave us charity and we were glad to take it. What she earned was hers." He looked at Dumarest. "What's on your mind, Earl?"
"Jewelry-personal adornment." A woman like her would always strive to own gems. Portable wealth and always close in case of need. "You found none?"
"Only trinkets. Cheap baubles."
"Then she could have pawned them. Search for the tickets. If you find them borrow to reclaim the pledges then sell the gems and repay the debt. Something could be left over. And sell her clothes and everything she owned."
The woman was dead and beyond care-the living needed what she could provide.
Ellain smiled at the face on the screen. "Earl! It's been so long! Why haven't you called before?"
It had been little more than a day but he didn't remind her of that. "If I called would I be welcome?"
"Of course! How long? An hour? Two? Darling, please hurry!"
She sang as she hurried to her bath, scenting the water and fussing later over clothes and hair. The maid, saying nothing but noting all, was deft in her help, discreet in accepting her dismissal. Later there would be a mess to tidy, clothes disarranged, the bed to be made, food and wine to clear, smoke to dissipate-she had experienced such things before. But, while the rich paid, they could go to hell in pieces for all she cared.
"Earl!" She had not realized how much she had missed him until he'd called. Then everything had seemed a little brighter, colors more vivid, even the air gaining an added exhilaration. Now, seeing him standing before the opened door, she felt the sharp acceleration of her blood. The sweet pain of a sudden need. "Come in, darling! Come in!"
He followed her to stand watching as she spun in a pirouette. Her gown was of soft, diaphanous material, a floating cloud shot with streaks of vibrant hue. As she came to a halt it settled to screen the curve of hip and thighs.
"You like it, Earl? This is the first time I've worn it. I ordered it especially for you." Her face was child-like in its pleasure. "Tell me you like it."
"It's beautiful-but not as beautiful as the one who wears it."
The right answer and he saw that it pleased her. A woman of impulse and one who obeyed the dictates of her emotion. One who could be cold and hard if ever thwarted in her desires.
She said, "Why did you wait so long to call? Did I mean so little to you?"