Chapter 3

[p29]“A good carrier can handle a dozen tons without too much trouble, but some of these things have it tough to handle their own weight on dry land and you have to look ’em over pretty closely to be sure which is which. Can’t really judge by a projection.”Barra looked at the man with slightly increased respect. At least, he knew something about his business. He shifted the viewer to the swamp.Of course, he thought, there were draft animals over in the western sector. But this small herd was convenient.“Well,” he said, “I’ve got this little herd over here. They got away some time ago and lost a lot of weight before I rounded them up again.”Makun examined the projection with increased interest.“Yeah,” he remarked. “I’d like to[p30]get out there in the morning and look those fellows over. I just might get the five I need right out there. Might even pick up a spare or two.”The swamp was a backwater of the lake, accessible by a narrow channel. Barra slowed the boat, easing it along through the still water. Here, the channel was clear, he knew, and it would soon widen. But there were some gravel bars a little farther along that could be troublesome if one were careless. And his attention was divided. He glanced at his companion.Makun leaned against the cushions, looking at the thick foliage far overhead. Then he turned his attention to the banks of the channel. A long, greenish shape was sliding out of the water. He pointed.“Have many of those around here?”“Those vermin?” Barra looked at the amphibian. “Not too many, but I could do with less of them.”He picked up his distorter from the rack beside him and pointed it ahead of the boat. The sapphire glowed.There was a sudden, violent thrashing in the foliage on the bank. The slender creature reared into the air, tooth-studded jaws gaping wide.It rose above the foliage, emitting a hissing bellow. Then it curled into a ball and hung suspended in the air for an instant before it dropped back into the shrubbery with a wet plop.Barra put the jewel-tipped rod back in its hanger.“I don’t like those nuisances,” he explained. “They can kill a slave if he gets careless. And they annoy the stock.” He tilted his head forward.“There’s the herd,” he went on, “at the other end of this open water. I’ll run up close and you can look them over if you wish.”Makun looked around, then shrugged. “Not necessary. I’ll go ahead from here. Won’t take me too long.”He lifted himself into the air and darted toward one of the huge saurians. Barra watched as he slowed and drifted close to the brute’s head, then hovered.A faint impression of satisfaction radiated from his mind as he drifted along the length of the creature. He went to another, then to another.At last, he returned to the boat.“Funny thing,” he commented. “A couple of my own carriers seem to have wandered clear through that null and mixed with your herd.” He smiled.“Stroke of luck. Too bad the rest didn’t manage to stay with ’em, but you can’t have everything. I’ll pay you trespass fees on those two, of course, then I’d like to bargain with you for about four more to go with ’em. Got them all picked out and I can cut ’em out and drive them over to the train soon’s we settle the arrangements.”Barra frowned.“Now, wait a minute,” he protested. “Of course, I’ll bargain with you for any or all of this herd. But I’m in the breeding and raising business,[p31]remember. I certainly can’t give away a couple of perfectly good beasts on someone’s simple say-so. I’d like a little proof that those two belong to your train before I just hand them over.”“Well, now, if it comes to that, I could prove ownership. Legally, too. After all, I’ve worked those critters quite a while and any competent psionic could—” Makun looked at Barra thoughtfully.“You know, I’m not just sure I like having my word questioned this way. I’m not sure I like this whole rig-out. Seems to me there’s a little explaining in order about now—and kind of an apology, too. Then maybe we can go ahead and talk business.”“I don’t see any need for me to explain anything. And I certainly don’t intend to make a apology of any kind. Not to you. I merely made a reasonable request. After all, these brutes are on my land and in my herd. I can find no mark of identification on them, of any kind.” Barra shrugged.“As a matter of fact, I don’t even know yet which two you are trying to claim. All I ask is indication of which ones you say are yours and some reasonable proof that they actually came from your train. Certainly, a mere claim of recognition is … well, you’ll have to admit, it’s a little thin.”Makun looked at him angrily.“Now, you pay attention to me. And pay attention good. I’m not stupid and I’m not blind. I can see all those jewels you’re loaded downwith and I know why you’re wearing them. They tell me a lot about you, you can be sure of that. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that patronizing air of yours, and don’t think I’ve liked it. I haven’t and I don’t.“I know you’re scared. I know you’re worried to death for fear I’m going to pull something on you. I spotted that the first time I talked to you.” He paused.“Oh, I’ve been trying to ignore it and be decent, but I’ve had about enough. I’ve been in this caravan business for a long time. I’ve dealt square and I’m used to square dealing. Now, you’ve been putting out a lot of side thoughts about thievery and I don’t appreciate being treated like some sneak thief. I’m not about to get used to the idea, either.“Now, you’d better get the air cleared around here and then we can talk business. Otherwise, there’s going to be a lot of trouble.”Barra felt a surge of fury rising above his fear. This lacklander clown actually dared to try to establish domination over a member of the ruling class? He breathed deeply.“I don’t have—”“All right, listen to me, you termite. You’ve come way too far out of your hole. Now, you just better crawl back in there fast, before I turn on the lights and burn your hide off.”The surge of mental power blazing at Barra was almost a physical force. He cringed away from it, his face wrinkling in an agony of fright. Makun looked at him contemptuously.[p32]“All right. Now, I’ll tell you—”Smoothly, Barra’s hand went to the haft of his distorter. The jewel seemed to rise of its own accord as it blazed coldly.For an infinitesimal time, Makun’s face reflected horrified comprehension before it melted into shapelessness.Barra put the distorter back in its rack, looking disgustedly at the mess on the cushions. There was nothing for it, he thought. He’d have to destroy those, too. Cleaning was out of the question. He shook his head.Like all these strong types, this Makun had neglected a simple principle. With fear as his constant companion, Barra had been forced to learn to live with it.Extreme mental pressure was merely another form of fright. It could paralyze a braver soul—and often did. It merely made Barra miserably uncomfortable without disturbing his control. And the hatred that was always in him was unimpaired—even amplified by the pounding terror.The more thoroughly Barra was frightened, the more effectively he attacked.He leaned back in his seat, letting the drumming of his heart subside. Eventually, he would recover enough to guide the boat out of the swamp and back to the Residence.Tomorrow? Well, he would have to inventory the freight the man had carried. He would have to check those draft beasts. Perhaps he could discern the hidden identification Makun had mentioned.And he would have to make disposition of some twenty slaves. He summoned up a smile.Now that he thought of it, this affair could be turned to profit. After all, Dar Makun had been diverted from his route and he had lost some of his train. And caravans had been known to disappear in the vicinity of turbulent nulls.All he had to do was deny knowledge of the fate of Dar Makun’s caravan if there were any inquiry. Oh, certainly, he could tell any inquirer, Dar Makun had arrived. He had stayed overnight and then taken his departure, saying something about cutting around the null and back to his normal, northern swing.He was feeling better now. He turned his attention to the control crystal and the boat swung about, to make its way back toward the lake.It took longer than he had thought it would. It was evening of the day after the death of Dar Makun when Barra turned in his seat and raised his hand, then waved it in a wide circle.A quickly directed thought halted his mount and he looked about once more, at the thick forest.This clearing was as close to the village of Celdalo as he wanted to come. The villagers never came into this heavy screen of trees, but beyond the forest, there might be some who would watch and wonder. He smiled grimly.Of course, it didn’t make too much difference what slaves might think—if[p33]they could think at all, but there was no reason to leave unnecessary traces of the day’s work.He swung about in his cushions and looked back at the line of draft beasts. They were swinging out of line now, to form a semicircle, facing the trees ahead.He impressed an order on his mount to stand, then lifted himself out of the cushioned seat between the armor fins. For a few seconds, he hovered, looking down at the beast he had been riding.Yes, he thought, he would do well to raise a few of these creatures. They were tractable and comfortable to ride. A good many caravan masters might be persuaded to get rid of their less comfortable mounts in exchange for one of these, once they had tried a day’s march.One by one, the big saurians came to the forest edge and entered the clearing, then crouched, to let their drivers swing to the ground. Barra looked at the lead driver.“Make your cargo stack over here,” he ordered, “at this side of the clearing. You will wait here for your master.”The man looked confused. A vague, questioning thought came from him. It wasn’t really a coherent thought, but just an impression of doubt—uncertainty. Barra frowned impatiently.It had been much the same when he had ordered this man to load up back at Tibara. Perhaps it was no wonder Dar Makun had been forced to learn vocalization if this was thebest slave he could find to develop into his headman.Carefully, he formed a projection. It showed the carriers gathering in their unloading circles. He made one of the projections turn and drop its head over another’s back. The wide mouth opened and stubby, peg teeth gripped the handling loop of a cargo sling. Then the long-neck swiveled back, to repeat the performance.Barra watched as the man before him nodded in obedient understanding. He shot out a sharp, peremptory order.“Do it, then! Do it as shown.”The man made noises, then turned, shouting at the other drivers.Barra watched as the stack of cargo grew. At last, the final sling was positioned and a heavy cloth cover was dropped over the great piles. Barra looked at the headman.“Bring your drivers close,” he ordered. “I have something for them to see.”Again, there was the moment of confusion, but this time the man had gathered the main sense of the command. He turned again, shouting.The drivers looked at each other questioningly, then moved slowly forward, to form a tight group before Barra, who watched until they were in satisfactory position.He concentrated on the group for a few seconds, starting the formation of a projection to his left.As the air glowed and started to show form, the eyes of the drivers swung toward it. Barra smiled tightly and swung his distorter up. The[p34]crystal flamed as he swept it across the group of slaves.He kept the power on, sweeping the distorter back and forth until all that remained was a large pool of slime which thinned, then oozed into the humus. At last, he tucked the rod back under his arm and examined the scene.There was the pile of goods. There were the carrier beasts. But no man or pseudoman remained of the caravan. His smile broadened.Once he had sorted this cargo and moved it to the Residence and to various warehouses about the Estates, all traces of Dar Makun and his train would be gone.To be sure, a few villages would find that their herds had increased, but this was nothing to worry about. He sighed.It had been a hard day and it would be a hard night’s work. He would have to forget his dignity for the time and do real labor. But this was necessity. And there was plenty of profit in it as well.So far as the rest of the world might know, Dar Makun and his caravan had left Kira Barra to cut back to the northern swing. And the turbulent null had swallowed them without trace.He turned away. He would have to bring work boats in to the nearby beach. Their surrogates were already attuned and ready, and one of them had been equipped with an auxiliary power crystal. He would need that.As the boats arrived at village piers, the various headmen wouldmerely follow instructions as given by the boat’s surrogates. He would be done with this operation in a few hours.The days went on, became weeks, then hands of weeks. Little by little, Barra changed his attitude toward caravan masters. Once, he had been cautious about dealing with them, allowing only a chosen few to do business within his borders.Now, however, he had found a whole, new source of income. And a new sense of power had come to him. Caravans were more than welcome at Kira Barra.He leaned back on his new chair, enjoying the complete ease with which it instantly shaped to fit his body. It was precisely like hovering a short distance above the floor, yet there was no strain of concentration on some control unit. He allowed himself to relax completely and turned his attention to the viewer crystal.It was new, too. The old one of his father’s which he had brought to the new Residence had seemed quite inadequate when the Residence was redone. This new viewer had been designed for professional use. It was a full two feet in diameter and could fill thousands of cubic feet with solid projection.Animals, trees, pseudomen, all could be brought before him as though physically present in the study. Too, it was simpler than the old one and much more accurate in its control. He sighed.[p35]The Estates had prospered. Of course, he had been cautious. Many caravans had come to Kira Barra and left again, their masters highly pleased with the fair dealings of the Estates. Several had returned, time and time again.There had been others who had come through during times when the null was in turbulence and it was from these that he had taken his harvest. He had been particular in his choices, making careful evaluation before taking any action.By this time, his operation was faultless—a smooth routine which admitted of no error. He smiled as he remembered his fumbling efforts with the first caravan and his halting improvements when he had dealt with the next. What were those fellows’ names?He shrugged. He could remember that first fellow practically begging him to take action and he could remember his own frightened evaluation of the situation after the first step. He had gone over a whole, long line of alternative choices, rejecting them one by one until the inevitable, ideal method of operation had come out. He smiled.When he had finally settled on his general method, it had been elegantly simple. But it had been very nearly perfect. Basically, he was still using the same plan.Now, of course, it was smoother and even more simplified. There were two general routines involved.Most caravan masters were treated with the greatest of consideration.They were allowed to pass through the Estates with only nominal fees and invited to avail themselves of the courtesy of the Estates at any time in the future. If trades with the Estates were involved, the fees were waived, of course. And many of them had returned, bringing goods and information, as well as taking away the produce of the Estates.Then, there were those caravans which came during turbulences in the null and which seemed worthwhile to the now practiced eyes of Kio Barra. These were the ones ripe for harvest. Their owners had been offered the courtesy of the Estates—and more.They had been taken for sightseeing tours—perhaps of the lake—perhaps to see valuable carrier stock which could be had at bargain rates.Then, in complete privacy, a distorter beam had made neat disposition of them.Their goods had been distributed through the various warehouses and later disposed of through the safe channels which Barra had carefully cultivated. Their slaves, of course, had been eliminated.Barra regretted this waste of valuable property, but this way there could be no leak of information and no inquiry could be successful.There had been an inquiry at one time, but that had been in the earlier days.The inquirer had gone away with no suspicion in his mind. He had examined the null from the hills and had agreed with Kio Barra that it was[p36]indeed a menace. He had listened sympathetically to Barra’s rueful comments about slaves and stock which had drifted into the null, never to be heard from again.Barra activated the view crystal. It was time for another inspection of the Estates.The projection formed and Barra was suddenly in a wood, looking across a wide field. Grain waved in the breeze and here and there, the silhouettes of both long-neck and fin-back could be seen, half hidden by grass and trees.The scanner progressed, crossing the field and continuing to another forest, operating on the route impressed on it. Barra relaxed as he watched. As the scan progressed through field, swamp and forest, he nodded in satisfaction. The Estates were in far better shape than ever before.Suddenly, he halted the scan, looking critically at the scene. He was in the central clearing of Tibara. And the village didn’t match with the standards he wanted.He looked critically at the huts. They were becoming run-down. It had been too long since the roof thatches had been replaced. Uprights were bending a little here, a trifle out of plumb there.There were broken stones again in the well curb and the pile of stone brought for repair wasn’t neatly stacked. He frowned.This was not the first time he’d had to take a firm hand in Tibara.Of course, he had replaced headmen in other villages—more than once in some cases. But Tibara was working on its third headman. There was something really wrong in that village.To be sure, Tibara was the village where most caravan slaves were quartered. A lodge had been built there for that purpose and it was in frequent use. Naturally, it was maintained by the villagers. But that was even less excuse for shoddiness. This should be the neatest, best kept village in all Kira Barra. It wasn’t.The frown deepened. This time, Tibara was going to be cleaned up, and he’d keep his attention on it. The village would stay clean if the villagers had to spend every second of their time on it when they weren’t taking care of their herds, their boats, and their guest lodge.And there’d be no slacking in those other areas, either.He looked around the clearing. There were, he was forced to admit, no idlers about at the moment. The only people he could see were women and children. And the women were busily occupied.Again, he studied the scene. The men would be coming in from their fields and from the lake in another hour. He would examine a few other villages, then return his attention to Tibara.Wearily, Retonga, headman of Tibara, pulled himself to a sitting position. He looked over to the other side of the room. Mir was already on her[p37]feet. She smiled at him uncertainly.“It’s morning,” she said. “Rest day, at last.”“Yes.” Retonga closed his eyes for an instant. It had been bad for her, too, he knew. He’d probably been pretty hard to live with these past few days. He sighed.“Rest day,” he mused.“But it means nothing. There’s still work. There’s always work these days.” He got to his feet.“I wish I were just a herd boy—in some other village.” He went to the door and looked out.Someone had disturbed the pile of building stones. Children had been playing in the clearing the night before and the earth was scuffed up. Bits of wood and cloth lay scattered here and there.He looked at the houses. Folshan’s roof was sagging a trifle, he noticed. And there were a couple of dolls lying outside his door. He shook his head and went out into the clearing.Old Tamiso was squatting by the well. Retonga walked over to him.“Your stone pile,” he said. “A few of the stones are scattered.”The old man looked over, then shrugged.“I just picked this one out,” he explained. “When I get it laid, I’ll have to get another. I’ll straighten the pile when I finish here.”Retonga smiled wearily. “And if the master sees your pile now?”Tamiso pushed himself to his feet, rubbing his back thoughtfully.“Yes,” he said. “The master can give great pain, and it seems he isalways watching these days.” He walked over to the stones.For a moment, Retonga watched as he rearranged his pile, then he turned, tilting his head back.“Awaken,” he shouted. “For the sun looks down and shall he find us asleep?”A head poked out of a door.“It’s a rest day. We’ll be at it soon enough, but what’s the hurry?”Retonga shook his head. “I know it’s rest day. You know it’s rest day. But there’s one who forgets these things. Remember the other evening?”Folshan winced and Retonga pointed.“Better get those dolls picked up. And there’s that roof of yours. I’ll give you a hand with it.”Folshan came out of his hut, then looked back.“No,” he said slowly. “You’re headman. Remember how that happened? Let the master catch you helping with the work and we’ll need yet another headman.” He shook his head.“This time, it could be me.” He bent over to pick up the toys his daughter had left.“Kina,” he called, “tell Chama to keep her toys picked up, or she might be needing a new father.” He turned again.“I’ll get Kesonta to help with that roof. It’ll be straight in an hour or so.”Retonga looked after him for a moment, then caught the eyes of a couple of the women. He made a[p38]sweeping motion toward the earth of the clearing, then walked back to his own door.The villageHe turned, inspecting each detail of the village.“Let’s see. Is there anything else for the master to find wrong?” Again, he examined each house closely.At last, he turned away, walking toward a path.“He’ll probably be looking at the waterfront, too,” he told himself, “and at the lodge.”He walked slowly along the path, checking the forest floor as he went. As he got to the beach, he looked toward the pier, then winced.A few hundred yards out in the lake, a high wedge of water was sweeping toward him. At the apex of the vee, he could see the shape of a boat, its bow riding high over the water.“Oh, no,” he groaned to himself. “Trouble again!” He waited.As the wave splashed to the pier, he dashed forward to secure the boat. Kio Barra merely glanced at him. Briefly, he caught the impression of a wide field. A line of great beasts were crossing it, their long necks bobbing as they walked. He nodded in understanding.A caravan was coming in. That would be trouble, of course, but of minor nature. He turned, to follow the glittering figure as it floated toward the path and on, into the village.As the caravan came to a stop, Naran’s beast bent its knees and[p39]crouched. He swung himself to the ground.He was getting the hang of this, he told himself. At first, he had been forced to fight an almost uncontrollable compulsion to float down normally, but now it seemed quite sensible to grab the heavy fiber strands and swing forward till his feet were solidly on the ground. He spun about.“All right,” he shouted. “Take your reins. Form your unloading circles on me. We’ll be here for a day or two.”He watched as the slings were lifted from the brutes’ backs, then turned his attention to the man who was greeting Dar Girdek.So this was the Lord of the Mountain Lake. He shook his head. The fellow glittered almost from head to foot. Naran examined the jewelryappraisingly. He wore a fourth-order cap. They didn’t make them any heavier than that one. And if there was a device that had been left out, he had never heard of it.In addition, he could identify three heavy-duty shields, a power levitator, a handful of destructor and paralysis rings, and a projector medallion capable of forming several hundred cubic feet of solid, detailed illusion. He shook his head.This man must have spent the entire income of his estate for several years in assembling this array. There was enough there to outfit a battle group of competent psionics.“If this guy needs all that stuff just to get by, he’s as near to psionic zero as you can get,” Naran told himself. “Either that, or he’s loaded with a power compulsion that’s never been equalled.” He frowned.“Or both,” he added thoughtfully.He looked again at the blaze of jewelry.Faintly, he could sense the sour feel of fear. It acted as a carrier for a mixture of hatred, envy, and contemptuous hauteur. Naran whistled softly. There was more, too. He wished he dared try a probe, but with all that arsenal of psionic crystalware, it would be unwise.“Hit those shields of his and I’d bounce off with a noise like a million bells,” he thought. He turned away.He’d have to keep his own mind fully hooded around here. He looked back again, glancing at the distorter rod Barra carried. His eyes widened a little.[p40]“Given adequate drive, that thing would stop a Fifth Planet battleship.” He grinned.“Arm a couple of hundred men with those things and they could go out and take the Fifth apart, bit by bit. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about those people and their mechanical gadgets.”He dragged his attention back to the business at hand, tapping in on Dar Girdek’s thoughts.“… Andwe can tour the Estates later today,” Barra was saying. “I may be able to show you some worthwhile goods, as well as a few good draft beasts to carry them.”Naran risked a light probe, taking advantage of Barra’s diverted attention.He had been right, he thought. It was the “or both.” He shook his head. The guy was almost pathetic. Obviously, he wanted to be the greatest man on the planet. And equally obviously, without his amplifier jewels, he’d be little stronger psionically than one of Dar Girdek’s drivers.As Dar Girdek followed his host toward the village, Naran turned his attention back to his drivers. He would have to make camp and then get together with that village headman. There’d be plenty of arrangements they would have to make.He was surprised at the arrangements Retonga had already made. There wasn’t much question about it, the entertainment of caravans was familiar business with this headman. He knew all the problems—and their answers.Of course, Dar Girdek had told him about the hospitality of Kira Barra, but this had to be seen to be believed. He spent his first really restful night in weeks.The next morning, he walked slowly along the path to the drivers’ lodge, paying little attention to his surroundings. Somehow, in spite of the reception given the caravan, he was uneasy.He recalled his conversation with Retonga the night before.The man had asked questions about the conditions of the trail. He had been curious about the treatment of the drivers by the master of the train. Then he had shaken his head, looking out over his village.“It is far different here. This is an estate of death and terror, and our master is the very lord of these. I was a child when his father died, but I think things were different then.” He had looked searchingly at Naran.“I’ve never mentioned these things before,” he went on. “But there’s something—” He had looked down at the ground, then up again.“Our master became Kio through the death of his brother,” he went on, “and it was through the deaths of other headmen that I was placed in charge of this village.” He had glanced back into the door of his hut.“I had no part in causing those deaths. The life of a headman here in Tibara is short and none but a fool would fight for this position of mine. It is not a good one. The master’s demands are heavy and his hand is even heavier.”[p41]This didn’t match with the reputation of Kio Barra as a considerate host—a fair man to do business with. It made him wonder.Had his brother actually ever left this place? But if not, where were his drivers? What had happened to his train of draft brutes? How had the cargo he carried been disposed of?Oh, of course, he knew there were caravan masters who would accept freight and ask a minimum of questions. Goods could be disposed of. And this was a breeding estate. The slaves? He shook his head. Too simple!He brought himself back to the present, looking thoughtfully at the drivers’ lodge ahead of him. Then he probed gently, trying to establish rapport with Dar Girdek. The man could be in real danger.He frowned and probed with more force. There was nothing. The frown deepened.After his talk with Retonga, he had established rapport with the caravan master, but the older man had attached no importance to his suspicions.“No,” he had thought back, “you are seeing a robber behind every rock now. Kio Barra is a tough master, of course. He’s got a big estate here, and he really keeps it up to the mark. He’s a good host and a really good man to deal with—liberal trader. Remember, I know this guy. I’ve been here before.” There had been the impression of a smile.“Besides, this guy’s harmless,remember? Sure, he’s a businessman. But if he should try anything violent, I could take care of him without taking time out to think about it.” A final, dismissing thought had come.“Look, forget about it, will you? If you had to suspect someone of dirty work, pick on some of those northerners. Kio Barra’s too well known for fair dealing. I’ll make a deal with him, then we can go up to the northern swing and really look around to see if we can find any trace of that caravan of your brother’s.”Naran kicked at the trail. Dar Girdek was a good trader and a successful caravan master. He knew goods and their value, and he was expert in handling beasts and drivers. But he had never been too sensitive. And he’d absolutely refused to wear a probe amplifier.“Look,” he’d thought disgustedly, “how would you like to do business with some guy that wore a great, big, yellow headlight to tell you he wanted to poke around in your mind?”Naran put his foot on the lowest rung of the short ladder leading to the lodge door.Unless he was badly mistaken, he knew now where his brother had gone. And now Dar Girdek had joined him. The details? He shrugged.They were unimportant. But what was next? What would be the next step in Barra’s plans? And what could be done about this guy? He climbed the ladder and went into the lodge.[p42]Of course, if the Council found out about this, they could deal with the situation. All they’d need would be a little proof and Kio Barra would be well and promptly taken care of. But how would someone get word out?The estate was loaded with surrogates, he knew that. A caravan—even a single man—would find it impossible to either enter or leave without the knowledge and consent of the Master Protector. He smiled.He could just visualize Kio Barra letting anyone out with proof of his activities. The smile faded.A distant projection? There were those surrogates again. They were broad tuned and he knew it. They’d flare like a field of beacons.Of course, he could get out a flash appeal and it would be heard. He grinned.Now, there was a nice way to commit suicide. There’d be no time for help to arrive, he was sure of that. And no shield would stand up under that heavy-duty distorter, even if Barra could only summon a minimum of power to operate it. He shook his head, looking around the room.Drivers were beginning to stir and get to their feet. Naran looked at the flunky.“Better get with it, Bintar,” he said. “Going to be a bunch of hungry men around you in a couple of minutes.”“Yeah.” The man started out the door, yawning. “Got to eat, if wedon’t do anything else.” He climbed down the ladder.Naran glanced at the drivers.“Soon’s we’ve eaten,” he said, “I’d like to check up on the long-necks. See whether they’ve wandered during the night. I’d hate to have them get mixed up with the village herd.”A driver looked around at him.“Aw,” he protested, “the master probably pinned ’em down good before he left. Besides, he can identify ’em anyway. They won’t go far—not with those herd boys running around.”“Sure,” Naran told him. “The master would really like spending half a day cutting out his long-necks from the village herd. And how about that Master Protector? What would he think of our caravan?”The other looked at him disgustedly. “Aw, who cares about that? Why worry about what one of them witchmen thinks about another? Long’s we don’t get twisted around, what’s the difference?”Naran growled to himself. He’d blundered on that one. There was no answer to that argument that he could present. He had learned to understand—and in some measure sympathize with—the deep-seated resentment of the non-psi for the psionic. The non-psionics felt they were just as good men as anyone, yet here were these psionics with their incomprehensible powers. And there was nothing to be done about it except obey.Of course, they didn’t like it—or their masters.[p43]As far as that went, the caravan herd was unimportant now. The only trouble was Retonga. If the herds were mixed, he would be in real trouble.“Well,” he said aloud, “I’m not about to get the master to spinning. Long’s we keep him happy, we’ll all be a lot better off. As I said, right after breakfast. I want everyone out on the herd.” He started to turn away.“Aagh,” growled the other. “Why don’t you face it? You’re just one of those guys likes to toss orders around and make people jump. It’s about time someone showed you a few things.”Naran turned back. Rosel had been resentful ever since the caravan had formed. He had expected to be lead driver on this trip and he’d made no effort to hide his fury and disappointment at being displaced in favor of a newcomer.For an instant, Naran considered. There was no point in continuing his masquerade any further. Dar Girdek was gone and he’d have to take the caravan back anyway—if he could work his way out of here, past Barra.If he couldn’t get out—if he joined his brother and Dar Girdek—it would make no difference what the caravan drivers thought.He could put this man in his place right now. Then, he could give him the job of lead driver.But there was something else to think of. If he got the train out of here, he would have to work with this guy. And there would always bean even greater resentment added to the normal fear and hatred of the psionic. That could demoralize the whole train. Naran sighed.Rosel had put his feelings in the open now and Naran would have to play out the role he had assumed.He crossed the room to confront Rosel. Abruptly, he thrust a hand out. The other made a grab for it and Naran moved smoothly forward, locking the grasping hand.Quickly he extended a leg and threw Rosel over it. As the man hit the floor, Naran retained his grip and brought his other hand over, twisting the man’s arm. His foot went out, to smack into the man’s face, pinning him to the floor. Slowly, he put pressure on the prisoned hand.“Once more,” he said coldly, “I’m going to have everyone out on the herd right after breakfast. Now, do you want to go out and work with ’em, or do I keep winding up on this thing and then have ’em load you up with the rest of the spare gear?”“Aw, look.” Rosel’s voice was muffled. “Didn’t mean a thing, I was just making a crack.”“Yeah, sure.” Naran’s voice was scornful. “Just having a little fun before breakfast. Now you listen to me. So long as I’m lead driver, you’re going to do what I say—when I say it. If you give me any more trouble, I’ll pull your head off and make you carry it under one arm. Got it?”“Ow! Yeah, I got it. You’re the lead driver.”Naran released his pressure and stepped back.[p44]“All right,” he said. “Let’s forget it. Now, we’ll get breakfast over with and then we’ll take care of the long-necks. You take the drivers out, Rosel. I’m going to make some arrangements in the village. Be with you later.” He swung away.Barra looked at his reflection with satisfaction. It was too bad, he thought, that he didn’t have some companion to appreciate his wealth and power. He examined his equipment carefully.Everything was clean. Everything was in order. There was no device lacking.Proudly, he looked down at the huge, yellow pendant he was wearing for the first time. It was funny, he thought, that he had never considered a probe unit before. Now that he thought of it, this was a most satisfactory device. Now, he could look into his villagers’ minds and see clearly what lay there. Even, he could get some ideas of the intentions of visiting caravan masters.Fitting the device and becoming familiar with it had been hard work, of course, but he had mastered it. And today, he could wear the jewel and use it. It would make the day’s work easier.He activated his levitator, floated to his boat, and pulled it away from its shelter, setting the course toward Tibara.The hard part of this operation was over, he thought. The rest was simple routine.This caravan master had given hima bit more trouble than some of the others, but his final reaction had been just like all the others. He smiled.That flash of incredulity, followed by sudden, horrified comprehension, then blankness, was becoming perfectly familiar. In fact, even this was simple routine.He wondered if he might be able to extend just a little. Perhaps he could operate on a wider scale. There should be some way he could work out to take over a neighboring estate and go from there.Surely, there must be some outlet for his abilities, beyond mere increase in the wealth of Kira Barra. And there must be some way to gain a companion of sorts. He would have to think that over.He swung the boat to the pier and floated away, grandly ignoring the pseudomen who hurried to secure his lines.He examined the village with approval as he stood in the center of the clearing. There had been a great improvement since he had taken that headman in hand. Perhaps this fellow would be satisfactory—might even learn to take some pride in the appearance of his village—if, that is, a pseudoman were capable of pride.He looked over toward the headman’s hut.The fellow had come out, followed by the lead driver of the caravan. Good, that would save the trouble of hunting the fellow out.He concentrated on the caravan slave.[p45]“Your master has decided to remain at the Residence for a time,” he thought confidently. “You may have your drivers load up and move to a more permanent location.”The answering thought was unexpectedly distinct.“This location looks as though it were designed for a caravan’s stay. Where’s Dar Girdek?”Barra looked at the man in surprise. What was this? This fellow didn’t think like any pseudoman. Had Dar Girdek somehow managed to persuade a halfman to act as his lead driver? But why?He drew back a little, tensing. There was something wrong here.“Now, look,” persisted the man before him. “I’d like to see Dar Girdek. I’d like to know why I haven’t been able to get in touch with him this morning.”Barra blinked, then activated the new probe. He would have to find out what this man knew—how much others might know. Abruptly, he felt a violent return of the fear sickness which had temporarily subsided with the death of Dar Girdek.The probe was met by an impenetrable barrier. Barra’s eyes widened. This man was no halfman, either. He was one of the great psionics. Frantically, Barra’s thought retraced the past.Was this an investigator from the Council? Was he, Kio Barra, suspect? But how had any leak occurred? The fear grew, till he could almost smell the sour stench of it. And with it, came a buoying lift of pure fury.This man may have unmasked him, to be sure. The Council might even now be sending men to take him, but this spy would never know the results of his work. He would profit nothing here.He flipped the distorter from under his arm.As the Master Protector started to raise his distorter, Naran felt a sharp twinge of regret. He had resigned himself to this, and had made his preparations, but he hated to leave Barra to someone else. Of course, the man had no chance now. The disturbance he had keyed himself to make if he were hit with a distorter would be heard by every scholar in Ganiadur, and by half the Council.But—Suddenly, he felt a sort of pity for the killer before him. The guy wasn’t really altogether to blame. He’d been living for all these years with everything against him.Born into a psionic family, he had been the family skeleton—a thing of disgrace—to be hidden from the rest of the world and given tolerant protection.And when this barely tolerated being had managed somehow to gain power and get amplifying devices?Well—The crystal was leveled at him now. He looked at it indifferently, thinking of the man who held it.“Poor, lonesome weakling!”Abruptly, the clearing was lit up by a blinding red glare. Naran closed his eyes against the searing light.[p46]Seconds went by and he opened his eyes again, looking about the village in confusion.Had he somehow managed to retain full consciousness of ego, even after being reduced by a distorter beam? Was there a release into some other state of being? He hadfelt no—He looked at Kio Barra. The man stood, slack-faced, still holding his distorter rod, but gradually allowing it to sag toward the ground. Naran shook his head.“Now, what goes on?”He probed at the man’s mind.There was consciousness. The man could think, but the thoughts were dim and blurred, with no trace of psionic carrier. The control and amplifier jewels he wore had lost their inner fire—were merely dull, lifeless reflectors of the sunlight. This man could do no more toward bringing life to the jewels than could the village headman—perhaps, even less.Naran looked at him in unbelieving confusion, then turned as a sudden, screaming thought struck his mind.“A stinking, high-nosed witchman! And we thought he was one of us! Ate with him. Argued with him. Even fought with him. I’ve got to get away. Got to!”There was desperation in the thought. And there were hatred overtones, which blended, then swelled.As the terrorized ululation went on, Naran swung his head, locating the source. He’d have to do something about that—fast. The fellowwould really demoralize the caravan now—even infect the big saurians—cause a stampede.This guy had some power of projection and his terror was intensifying it till anyone could receive the disturbing impulses, even though complete understanding might be lacking.Naran lifted himself from the ground, arrowing rapidly toward the caravan, his mind already forming the thoughts which he hoped would soothe the frantic fear and—at least to some degree—allay the frenzy of hatredthat swelled and became stronger and stronger.Barra could wait.As Barra swung his distorter to bear, he concentrated on the violent pulse needed to trigger the jewel, his mind closed to all else. He turned his attention on his target.Suddenly, he recognized the curiously tender expression which had formed on the face of the man before him.Frantically, he tried to revise his thoughts—to recall the blaze of energy he had concentrated to build up.It was too late.With a sense of despair, he recognized the sudden, lifting, twisting agony that accompanied the flare of the overloaded power crystal. For an eternal instant, his universe was a blinding, screaming, red nightmare.The flare died and he watched dully as the unharmed man before him looked about unbelievingly, then[p47]looked back to carefully examine him.“Oh,” he told himself dully. “I suppose they’ll take care of me, but what of it? They’ll put me somewhere. I’ll lose everything. It’ll be just like the place Boemar thought of sending me,when I—”Furiously, he tried to summon some tiny bit of energy to activate the distorter.Nothing happened.The man whose pity had destroyed him suddenly frowned, then turned and darted away. Dully, Barra watched him, then he turned, to look around the village. His face contorted in new terror.Some of the village men were moving toward him, curious expressions on their faces. He backed away from them and turned.A few more had moved to block his path.They were grunting and hissing to each other. Barra looked from face to face, then looked over toward the well.There were men over there, too, by the pile of stones. The old man who worked on the retaining walls of the village had picked up some of his building material.He stood, eying Barra calculatingly, a stone poised in each hand.THE END

[p29]“A good carrier can handle a dozen tons without too much trouble, but some of these things have it tough to handle their own weight on dry land and you have to look ’em over pretty closely to be sure which is which. Can’t really judge by a projection.”Barra looked at the man with slightly increased respect. At least, he knew something about his business. He shifted the viewer to the swamp.Of course, he thought, there were draft animals over in the western sector. But this small herd was convenient.“Well,” he said, “I’ve got this little herd over here. They got away some time ago and lost a lot of weight before I rounded them up again.”Makun examined the projection with increased interest.“Yeah,” he remarked. “I’d like to[p30]get out there in the morning and look those fellows over. I just might get the five I need right out there. Might even pick up a spare or two.”The swamp was a backwater of the lake, accessible by a narrow channel. Barra slowed the boat, easing it along through the still water. Here, the channel was clear, he knew, and it would soon widen. But there were some gravel bars a little farther along that could be troublesome if one were careless. And his attention was divided. He glanced at his companion.Makun leaned against the cushions, looking at the thick foliage far overhead. Then he turned his attention to the banks of the channel. A long, greenish shape was sliding out of the water. He pointed.“Have many of those around here?”“Those vermin?” Barra looked at the amphibian. “Not too many, but I could do with less of them.”He picked up his distorter from the rack beside him and pointed it ahead of the boat. The sapphire glowed.There was a sudden, violent thrashing in the foliage on the bank. The slender creature reared into the air, tooth-studded jaws gaping wide.It rose above the foliage, emitting a hissing bellow. Then it curled into a ball and hung suspended in the air for an instant before it dropped back into the shrubbery with a wet plop.Barra put the jewel-tipped rod back in its hanger.

[p29]“A good carrier can handle a dozen tons without too much trouble, but some of these things have it tough to handle their own weight on dry land and you have to look ’em over pretty closely to be sure which is which. Can’t really judge by a projection.”

Barra looked at the man with slightly increased respect. At least, he knew something about his business. He shifted the viewer to the swamp.

Of course, he thought, there were draft animals over in the western sector. But this small herd was convenient.

“Well,” he said, “I’ve got this little herd over here. They got away some time ago and lost a lot of weight before I rounded them up again.”

Makun examined the projection with increased interest.

“Yeah,” he remarked. “I’d like to[p30]get out there in the morning and look those fellows over. I just might get the five I need right out there. Might even pick up a spare or two.”

The swamp was a backwater of the lake, accessible by a narrow channel. Barra slowed the boat, easing it along through the still water. Here, the channel was clear, he knew, and it would soon widen. But there were some gravel bars a little farther along that could be troublesome if one were careless. And his attention was divided. He glanced at his companion.

Makun leaned against the cushions, looking at the thick foliage far overhead. Then he turned his attention to the banks of the channel. A long, greenish shape was sliding out of the water. He pointed.

“Have many of those around here?”

“Those vermin?” Barra looked at the amphibian. “Not too many, but I could do with less of them.”

He picked up his distorter from the rack beside him and pointed it ahead of the boat. The sapphire glowed.

There was a sudden, violent thrashing in the foliage on the bank. The slender creature reared into the air, tooth-studded jaws gaping wide.

It rose above the foliage, emitting a hissing bellow. Then it curled into a ball and hung suspended in the air for an instant before it dropped back into the shrubbery with a wet plop.

Barra put the jewel-tipped rod back in its hanger.

“I don’t like those nuisances,” he explained. “They can kill a slave if he gets careless. And they annoy the stock.” He tilted his head forward.

“There’s the herd,” he went on, “at the other end of this open water. I’ll run up close and you can look them over if you wish.”

Makun looked around, then shrugged. “Not necessary. I’ll go ahead from here. Won’t take me too long.”

He lifted himself into the air and darted toward one of the huge saurians. Barra watched as he slowed and drifted close to the brute’s head, then hovered.

A faint impression of satisfaction radiated from his mind as he drifted along the length of the creature. He went to another, then to another.

At last, he returned to the boat.

“Funny thing,” he commented. “A couple of my own carriers seem to have wandered clear through that null and mixed with your herd.” He smiled.

“Stroke of luck. Too bad the rest didn’t manage to stay with ’em, but you can’t have everything. I’ll pay you trespass fees on those two, of course, then I’d like to bargain with you for about four more to go with ’em. Got them all picked out and I can cut ’em out and drive them over to the train soon’s we settle the arrangements.”

Barra frowned.

“Now, wait a minute,” he protested. “Of course, I’ll bargain with you for any or all of this herd. But I’m in the breeding and raising business,[p31]remember. I certainly can’t give away a couple of perfectly good beasts on someone’s simple say-so. I’d like a little proof that those two belong to your train before I just hand them over.”

“Well, now, if it comes to that, I could prove ownership. Legally, too. After all, I’ve worked those critters quite a while and any competent psionic could—” Makun looked at Barra thoughtfully.

“You know, I’m not just sure I like having my word questioned this way. I’m not sure I like this whole rig-out. Seems to me there’s a little explaining in order about now—and kind of an apology, too. Then maybe we can go ahead and talk business.”

“I don’t see any need for me to explain anything. And I certainly don’t intend to make a apology of any kind. Not to you. I merely made a reasonable request. After all, these brutes are on my land and in my herd. I can find no mark of identification on them, of any kind.” Barra shrugged.

“As a matter of fact, I don’t even know yet which two you are trying to claim. All I ask is indication of which ones you say are yours and some reasonable proof that they actually came from your train. Certainly, a mere claim of recognition is … well, you’ll have to admit, it’s a little thin.”

Makun looked at him angrily.

“Now, you pay attention to me. And pay attention good. I’m not stupid and I’m not blind. I can see all those jewels you’re loaded downwith and I know why you’re wearing them. They tell me a lot about you, you can be sure of that. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that patronizing air of yours, and don’t think I’ve liked it. I haven’t and I don’t.

“I know you’re scared. I know you’re worried to death for fear I’m going to pull something on you. I spotted that the first time I talked to you.” He paused.

“Oh, I’ve been trying to ignore it and be decent, but I’ve had about enough. I’ve been in this caravan business for a long time. I’ve dealt square and I’m used to square dealing. Now, you’ve been putting out a lot of side thoughts about thievery and I don’t appreciate being treated like some sneak thief. I’m not about to get used to the idea, either.

“Now, you’d better get the air cleared around here and then we can talk business. Otherwise, there’s going to be a lot of trouble.”

Barra felt a surge of fury rising above his fear. This lacklander clown actually dared to try to establish domination over a member of the ruling class? He breathed deeply.

“I don’t have—”

“All right, listen to me, you termite. You’ve come way too far out of your hole. Now, you just better crawl back in there fast, before I turn on the lights and burn your hide off.”

The surge of mental power blazing at Barra was almost a physical force. He cringed away from it, his face wrinkling in an agony of fright. Makun looked at him contemptuously.

[p32]“All right. Now, I’ll tell you—”

Smoothly, Barra’s hand went to the haft of his distorter. The jewel seemed to rise of its own accord as it blazed coldly.

For an infinitesimal time, Makun’s face reflected horrified comprehension before it melted into shapelessness.

Barra put the distorter back in its rack, looking disgustedly at the mess on the cushions. There was nothing for it, he thought. He’d have to destroy those, too. Cleaning was out of the question. He shook his head.

Like all these strong types, this Makun had neglected a simple principle. With fear as his constant companion, Barra had been forced to learn to live with it.

Extreme mental pressure was merely another form of fright. It could paralyze a braver soul—and often did. It merely made Barra miserably uncomfortable without disturbing his control. And the hatred that was always in him was unimpaired—even amplified by the pounding terror.

The more thoroughly Barra was frightened, the more effectively he attacked.

He leaned back in his seat, letting the drumming of his heart subside. Eventually, he would recover enough to guide the boat out of the swamp and back to the Residence.

Tomorrow? Well, he would have to inventory the freight the man had carried. He would have to check those draft beasts. Perhaps he could discern the hidden identification Makun had mentioned.

And he would have to make disposition of some twenty slaves. He summoned up a smile.

Now that he thought of it, this affair could be turned to profit. After all, Dar Makun had been diverted from his route and he had lost some of his train. And caravans had been known to disappear in the vicinity of turbulent nulls.

All he had to do was deny knowledge of the fate of Dar Makun’s caravan if there were any inquiry. Oh, certainly, he could tell any inquirer, Dar Makun had arrived. He had stayed overnight and then taken his departure, saying something about cutting around the null and back to his normal, northern swing.

He was feeling better now. He turned his attention to the control crystal and the boat swung about, to make its way back toward the lake.

It took longer than he had thought it would. It was evening of the day after the death of Dar Makun when Barra turned in his seat and raised his hand, then waved it in a wide circle.

A quickly directed thought halted his mount and he looked about once more, at the thick forest.

This clearing was as close to the village of Celdalo as he wanted to come. The villagers never came into this heavy screen of trees, but beyond the forest, there might be some who would watch and wonder. He smiled grimly.

Of course, it didn’t make too much difference what slaves might think—if[p33]they could think at all, but there was no reason to leave unnecessary traces of the day’s work.

He swung about in his cushions and looked back at the line of draft beasts. They were swinging out of line now, to form a semicircle, facing the trees ahead.

He impressed an order on his mount to stand, then lifted himself out of the cushioned seat between the armor fins. For a few seconds, he hovered, looking down at the beast he had been riding.

Yes, he thought, he would do well to raise a few of these creatures. They were tractable and comfortable to ride. A good many caravan masters might be persuaded to get rid of their less comfortable mounts in exchange for one of these, once they had tried a day’s march.

One by one, the big saurians came to the forest edge and entered the clearing, then crouched, to let their drivers swing to the ground. Barra looked at the lead driver.

“Make your cargo stack over here,” he ordered, “at this side of the clearing. You will wait here for your master.”

The man looked confused. A vague, questioning thought came from him. It wasn’t really a coherent thought, but just an impression of doubt—uncertainty. Barra frowned impatiently.

It had been much the same when he had ordered this man to load up back at Tibara. Perhaps it was no wonder Dar Makun had been forced to learn vocalization if this was thebest slave he could find to develop into his headman.

Carefully, he formed a projection. It showed the carriers gathering in their unloading circles. He made one of the projections turn and drop its head over another’s back. The wide mouth opened and stubby, peg teeth gripped the handling loop of a cargo sling. Then the long-neck swiveled back, to repeat the performance.

Barra watched as the man before him nodded in obedient understanding. He shot out a sharp, peremptory order.

“Do it, then! Do it as shown.”

The man made noises, then turned, shouting at the other drivers.

Barra watched as the stack of cargo grew. At last, the final sling was positioned and a heavy cloth cover was dropped over the great piles. Barra looked at the headman.

“Bring your drivers close,” he ordered. “I have something for them to see.”

Again, there was the moment of confusion, but this time the man had gathered the main sense of the command. He turned again, shouting.

The drivers looked at each other questioningly, then moved slowly forward, to form a tight group before Barra, who watched until they were in satisfactory position.

He concentrated on the group for a few seconds, starting the formation of a projection to his left.

As the air glowed and started to show form, the eyes of the drivers swung toward it. Barra smiled tightly and swung his distorter up. The[p34]crystal flamed as he swept it across the group of slaves.

He kept the power on, sweeping the distorter back and forth until all that remained was a large pool of slime which thinned, then oozed into the humus. At last, he tucked the rod back under his arm and examined the scene.

There was the pile of goods. There were the carrier beasts. But no man or pseudoman remained of the caravan. His smile broadened.

Once he had sorted this cargo and moved it to the Residence and to various warehouses about the Estates, all traces of Dar Makun and his train would be gone.

To be sure, a few villages would find that their herds had increased, but this was nothing to worry about. He sighed.

It had been a hard day and it would be a hard night’s work. He would have to forget his dignity for the time and do real labor. But this was necessity. And there was plenty of profit in it as well.

So far as the rest of the world might know, Dar Makun and his caravan had left Kira Barra to cut back to the northern swing. And the turbulent null had swallowed them without trace.

He turned away. He would have to bring work boats in to the nearby beach. Their surrogates were already attuned and ready, and one of them had been equipped with an auxiliary power crystal. He would need that.

As the boats arrived at village piers, the various headmen wouldmerely follow instructions as given by the boat’s surrogates. He would be done with this operation in a few hours.

The days went on, became weeks, then hands of weeks. Little by little, Barra changed his attitude toward caravan masters. Once, he had been cautious about dealing with them, allowing only a chosen few to do business within his borders.

Now, however, he had found a whole, new source of income. And a new sense of power had come to him. Caravans were more than welcome at Kira Barra.

He leaned back on his new chair, enjoying the complete ease with which it instantly shaped to fit his body. It was precisely like hovering a short distance above the floor, yet there was no strain of concentration on some control unit. He allowed himself to relax completely and turned his attention to the viewer crystal.

It was new, too. The old one of his father’s which he had brought to the new Residence had seemed quite inadequate when the Residence was redone. This new viewer had been designed for professional use. It was a full two feet in diameter and could fill thousands of cubic feet with solid projection.

Animals, trees, pseudomen, all could be brought before him as though physically present in the study. Too, it was simpler than the old one and much more accurate in its control. He sighed.

[p35]The Estates had prospered. Of course, he had been cautious. Many caravans had come to Kira Barra and left again, their masters highly pleased with the fair dealings of the Estates. Several had returned, time and time again.

There had been others who had come through during times when the null was in turbulence and it was from these that he had taken his harvest. He had been particular in his choices, making careful evaluation before taking any action.

By this time, his operation was faultless—a smooth routine which admitted of no error. He smiled as he remembered his fumbling efforts with the first caravan and his halting improvements when he had dealt with the next. What were those fellows’ names?

He shrugged. He could remember that first fellow practically begging him to take action and he could remember his own frightened evaluation of the situation after the first step. He had gone over a whole, long line of alternative choices, rejecting them one by one until the inevitable, ideal method of operation had come out. He smiled.

When he had finally settled on his general method, it had been elegantly simple. But it had been very nearly perfect. Basically, he was still using the same plan.

Now, of course, it was smoother and even more simplified. There were two general routines involved.

Most caravan masters were treated with the greatest of consideration.They were allowed to pass through the Estates with only nominal fees and invited to avail themselves of the courtesy of the Estates at any time in the future. If trades with the Estates were involved, the fees were waived, of course. And many of them had returned, bringing goods and information, as well as taking away the produce of the Estates.

Then, there were those caravans which came during turbulences in the null and which seemed worthwhile to the now practiced eyes of Kio Barra. These were the ones ripe for harvest. Their owners had been offered the courtesy of the Estates—and more.

They had been taken for sightseeing tours—perhaps of the lake—perhaps to see valuable carrier stock which could be had at bargain rates.

Then, in complete privacy, a distorter beam had made neat disposition of them.

Their goods had been distributed through the various warehouses and later disposed of through the safe channels which Barra had carefully cultivated. Their slaves, of course, had been eliminated.

Barra regretted this waste of valuable property, but this way there could be no leak of information and no inquiry could be successful.

There had been an inquiry at one time, but that had been in the earlier days.

The inquirer had gone away with no suspicion in his mind. He had examined the null from the hills and had agreed with Kio Barra that it was[p36]indeed a menace. He had listened sympathetically to Barra’s rueful comments about slaves and stock which had drifted into the null, never to be heard from again.

Barra activated the view crystal. It was time for another inspection of the Estates.

The projection formed and Barra was suddenly in a wood, looking across a wide field. Grain waved in the breeze and here and there, the silhouettes of both long-neck and fin-back could be seen, half hidden by grass and trees.

The scanner progressed, crossing the field and continuing to another forest, operating on the route impressed on it. Barra relaxed as he watched. As the scan progressed through field, swamp and forest, he nodded in satisfaction. The Estates were in far better shape than ever before.

Suddenly, he halted the scan, looking critically at the scene. He was in the central clearing of Tibara. And the village didn’t match with the standards he wanted.

He looked critically at the huts. They were becoming run-down. It had been too long since the roof thatches had been replaced. Uprights were bending a little here, a trifle out of plumb there.

There were broken stones again in the well curb and the pile of stone brought for repair wasn’t neatly stacked. He frowned.

This was not the first time he’d had to take a firm hand in Tibara.Of course, he had replaced headmen in other villages—more than once in some cases. But Tibara was working on its third headman. There was something really wrong in that village.

To be sure, Tibara was the village where most caravan slaves were quartered. A lodge had been built there for that purpose and it was in frequent use. Naturally, it was maintained by the villagers. But that was even less excuse for shoddiness. This should be the neatest, best kept village in all Kira Barra. It wasn’t.

The frown deepened. This time, Tibara was going to be cleaned up, and he’d keep his attention on it. The village would stay clean if the villagers had to spend every second of their time on it when they weren’t taking care of their herds, their boats, and their guest lodge.

And there’d be no slacking in those other areas, either.

He looked around the clearing. There were, he was forced to admit, no idlers about at the moment. The only people he could see were women and children. And the women were busily occupied.

Again, he studied the scene. The men would be coming in from their fields and from the lake in another hour. He would examine a few other villages, then return his attention to Tibara.

Wearily, Retonga, headman of Tibara, pulled himself to a sitting position. He looked over to the other side of the room. Mir was already on her[p37]feet. She smiled at him uncertainly.

“It’s morning,” she said. “Rest day, at last.”

“Yes.” Retonga closed his eyes for an instant. It had been bad for her, too, he knew. He’d probably been pretty hard to live with these past few days. He sighed.

“Rest day,” he mused.“But it means nothing. There’s still work. There’s always work these days.” He got to his feet.

“I wish I were just a herd boy—in some other village.” He went to the door and looked out.

Someone had disturbed the pile of building stones. Children had been playing in the clearing the night before and the earth was scuffed up. Bits of wood and cloth lay scattered here and there.

He looked at the houses. Folshan’s roof was sagging a trifle, he noticed. And there were a couple of dolls lying outside his door. He shook his head and went out into the clearing.

Old Tamiso was squatting by the well. Retonga walked over to him.

“Your stone pile,” he said. “A few of the stones are scattered.”

The old man looked over, then shrugged.

“I just picked this one out,” he explained. “When I get it laid, I’ll have to get another. I’ll straighten the pile when I finish here.”

Retonga smiled wearily. “And if the master sees your pile now?”

Tamiso pushed himself to his feet, rubbing his back thoughtfully.

“Yes,” he said. “The master can give great pain, and it seems he isalways watching these days.” He walked over to the stones.

For a moment, Retonga watched as he rearranged his pile, then he turned, tilting his head back.

“Awaken,” he shouted. “For the sun looks down and shall he find us asleep?”

A head poked out of a door.

“It’s a rest day. We’ll be at it soon enough, but what’s the hurry?”

Retonga shook his head. “I know it’s rest day. You know it’s rest day. But there’s one who forgets these things. Remember the other evening?”

Folshan winced and Retonga pointed.

“Better get those dolls picked up. And there’s that roof of yours. I’ll give you a hand with it.”

Folshan came out of his hut, then looked back.

“No,” he said slowly. “You’re headman. Remember how that happened? Let the master catch you helping with the work and we’ll need yet another headman.” He shook his head.

“This time, it could be me.” He bent over to pick up the toys his daughter had left.

“Kina,” he called, “tell Chama to keep her toys picked up, or she might be needing a new father.” He turned again.

“I’ll get Kesonta to help with that roof. It’ll be straight in an hour or so.”

Retonga looked after him for a moment, then caught the eyes of a couple of the women. He made a[p38]sweeping motion toward the earth of the clearing, then walked back to his own door.

The village

He turned, inspecting each detail of the village.

“Let’s see. Is there anything else for the master to find wrong?” Again, he examined each house closely.

At last, he turned away, walking toward a path.

“He’ll probably be looking at the waterfront, too,” he told himself, “and at the lodge.”

He walked slowly along the path, checking the forest floor as he went. As he got to the beach, he looked toward the pier, then winced.

A few hundred yards out in the lake, a high wedge of water was sweeping toward him. At the apex of the vee, he could see the shape of a boat, its bow riding high over the water.

“Oh, no,” he groaned to himself. “Trouble again!” He waited.

As the wave splashed to the pier, he dashed forward to secure the boat. Kio Barra merely glanced at him. Briefly, he caught the impression of a wide field. A line of great beasts were crossing it, their long necks bobbing as they walked. He nodded in understanding.

A caravan was coming in. That would be trouble, of course, but of minor nature. He turned, to follow the glittering figure as it floated toward the path and on, into the village.

As the caravan came to a stop, Naran’s beast bent its knees and[p39]crouched. He swung himself to the ground.

He was getting the hang of this, he told himself. At first, he had been forced to fight an almost uncontrollable compulsion to float down normally, but now it seemed quite sensible to grab the heavy fiber strands and swing forward till his feet were solidly on the ground. He spun about.

“All right,” he shouted. “Take your reins. Form your unloading circles on me. We’ll be here for a day or two.”

He watched as the slings were lifted from the brutes’ backs, then turned his attention to the man who was greeting Dar Girdek.

So this was the Lord of the Mountain Lake. He shook his head. The fellow glittered almost from head to foot. Naran examined the jewelryappraisingly. He wore a fourth-order cap. They didn’t make them any heavier than that one. And if there was a device that had been left out, he had never heard of it.

In addition, he could identify three heavy-duty shields, a power levitator, a handful of destructor and paralysis rings, and a projector medallion capable of forming several hundred cubic feet of solid, detailed illusion. He shook his head.

This man must have spent the entire income of his estate for several years in assembling this array. There was enough there to outfit a battle group of competent psionics.

“If this guy needs all that stuff just to get by, he’s as near to psionic zero as you can get,” Naran told himself. “Either that, or he’s loaded with a power compulsion that’s never been equalled.” He frowned.

“Or both,” he added thoughtfully.

He looked again at the blaze of jewelry.

Faintly, he could sense the sour feel of fear. It acted as a carrier for a mixture of hatred, envy, and contemptuous hauteur. Naran whistled softly. There was more, too. He wished he dared try a probe, but with all that arsenal of psionic crystalware, it would be unwise.

“Hit those shields of his and I’d bounce off with a noise like a million bells,” he thought. He turned away.

He’d have to keep his own mind fully hooded around here. He looked back again, glancing at the distorter rod Barra carried. His eyes widened a little.

[p40]“Given adequate drive, that thing would stop a Fifth Planet battleship.” He grinned.

“Arm a couple of hundred men with those things and they could go out and take the Fifth apart, bit by bit. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about those people and their mechanical gadgets.”

He dragged his attention back to the business at hand, tapping in on Dar Girdek’s thoughts.

“… Andwe can tour the Estates later today,” Barra was saying. “I may be able to show you some worthwhile goods, as well as a few good draft beasts to carry them.”

Naran risked a light probe, taking advantage of Barra’s diverted attention.

He had been right, he thought. It was the “or both.” He shook his head. The guy was almost pathetic. Obviously, he wanted to be the greatest man on the planet. And equally obviously, without his amplifier jewels, he’d be little stronger psionically than one of Dar Girdek’s drivers.

As Dar Girdek followed his host toward the village, Naran turned his attention back to his drivers. He would have to make camp and then get together with that village headman. There’d be plenty of arrangements they would have to make.

He was surprised at the arrangements Retonga had already made. There wasn’t much question about it, the entertainment of caravans was familiar business with this headman. He knew all the problems—and their answers.

Of course, Dar Girdek had told him about the hospitality of Kira Barra, but this had to be seen to be believed. He spent his first really restful night in weeks.

The next morning, he walked slowly along the path to the drivers’ lodge, paying little attention to his surroundings. Somehow, in spite of the reception given the caravan, he was uneasy.

He recalled his conversation with Retonga the night before.

The man had asked questions about the conditions of the trail. He had been curious about the treatment of the drivers by the master of the train. Then he had shaken his head, looking out over his village.

“It is far different here. This is an estate of death and terror, and our master is the very lord of these. I was a child when his father died, but I think things were different then.” He had looked searchingly at Naran.

“I’ve never mentioned these things before,” he went on. “But there’s something—” He had looked down at the ground, then up again.

“Our master became Kio through the death of his brother,” he went on, “and it was through the deaths of other headmen that I was placed in charge of this village.” He had glanced back into the door of his hut.

“I had no part in causing those deaths. The life of a headman here in Tibara is short and none but a fool would fight for this position of mine. It is not a good one. The master’s demands are heavy and his hand is even heavier.”

[p41]This didn’t match with the reputation of Kio Barra as a considerate host—a fair man to do business with. It made him wonder.

Had his brother actually ever left this place? But if not, where were his drivers? What had happened to his train of draft brutes? How had the cargo he carried been disposed of?

Oh, of course, he knew there were caravan masters who would accept freight and ask a minimum of questions. Goods could be disposed of. And this was a breeding estate. The slaves? He shook his head. Too simple!

He brought himself back to the present, looking thoughtfully at the drivers’ lodge ahead of him. Then he probed gently, trying to establish rapport with Dar Girdek. The man could be in real danger.

He frowned and probed with more force. There was nothing. The frown deepened.

After his talk with Retonga, he had established rapport with the caravan master, but the older man had attached no importance to his suspicions.

“No,” he had thought back, “you are seeing a robber behind every rock now. Kio Barra is a tough master, of course. He’s got a big estate here, and he really keeps it up to the mark. He’s a good host and a really good man to deal with—liberal trader. Remember, I know this guy. I’ve been here before.” There had been the impression of a smile.

“Besides, this guy’s harmless,remember? Sure, he’s a businessman. But if he should try anything violent, I could take care of him without taking time out to think about it.” A final, dismissing thought had come.

“Look, forget about it, will you? If you had to suspect someone of dirty work, pick on some of those northerners. Kio Barra’s too well known for fair dealing. I’ll make a deal with him, then we can go up to the northern swing and really look around to see if we can find any trace of that caravan of your brother’s.”

Naran kicked at the trail. Dar Girdek was a good trader and a successful caravan master. He knew goods and their value, and he was expert in handling beasts and drivers. But he had never been too sensitive. And he’d absolutely refused to wear a probe amplifier.

“Look,” he’d thought disgustedly, “how would you like to do business with some guy that wore a great, big, yellow headlight to tell you he wanted to poke around in your mind?”

Naran put his foot on the lowest rung of the short ladder leading to the lodge door.

Unless he was badly mistaken, he knew now where his brother had gone. And now Dar Girdek had joined him. The details? He shrugged.

They were unimportant. But what was next? What would be the next step in Barra’s plans? And what could be done about this guy? He climbed the ladder and went into the lodge.

[p42]Of course, if the Council found out about this, they could deal with the situation. All they’d need would be a little proof and Kio Barra would be well and promptly taken care of. But how would someone get word out?

The estate was loaded with surrogates, he knew that. A caravan—even a single man—would find it impossible to either enter or leave without the knowledge and consent of the Master Protector. He smiled.

He could just visualize Kio Barra letting anyone out with proof of his activities. The smile faded.

A distant projection? There were those surrogates again. They were broad tuned and he knew it. They’d flare like a field of beacons.

Of course, he could get out a flash appeal and it would be heard. He grinned.

Now, there was a nice way to commit suicide. There’d be no time for help to arrive, he was sure of that. And no shield would stand up under that heavy-duty distorter, even if Barra could only summon a minimum of power to operate it. He shook his head, looking around the room.

Drivers were beginning to stir and get to their feet. Naran looked at the flunky.

“Better get with it, Bintar,” he said. “Going to be a bunch of hungry men around you in a couple of minutes.”

“Yeah.” The man started out the door, yawning. “Got to eat, if wedon’t do anything else.” He climbed down the ladder.

Naran glanced at the drivers.

“Soon’s we’ve eaten,” he said, “I’d like to check up on the long-necks. See whether they’ve wandered during the night. I’d hate to have them get mixed up with the village herd.”

A driver looked around at him.

“Aw,” he protested, “the master probably pinned ’em down good before he left. Besides, he can identify ’em anyway. They won’t go far—not with those herd boys running around.”

“Sure,” Naran told him. “The master would really like spending half a day cutting out his long-necks from the village herd. And how about that Master Protector? What would he think of our caravan?”

The other looked at him disgustedly. “Aw, who cares about that? Why worry about what one of them witchmen thinks about another? Long’s we don’t get twisted around, what’s the difference?”

Naran growled to himself. He’d blundered on that one. There was no answer to that argument that he could present. He had learned to understand—and in some measure sympathize with—the deep-seated resentment of the non-psi for the psionic. The non-psionics felt they were just as good men as anyone, yet here were these psionics with their incomprehensible powers. And there was nothing to be done about it except obey.

Of course, they didn’t like it—or their masters.

[p43]As far as that went, the caravan herd was unimportant now. The only trouble was Retonga. If the herds were mixed, he would be in real trouble.

“Well,” he said aloud, “I’m not about to get the master to spinning. Long’s we keep him happy, we’ll all be a lot better off. As I said, right after breakfast. I want everyone out on the herd.” He started to turn away.

“Aagh,” growled the other. “Why don’t you face it? You’re just one of those guys likes to toss orders around and make people jump. It’s about time someone showed you a few things.”

Naran turned back. Rosel had been resentful ever since the caravan had formed. He had expected to be lead driver on this trip and he’d made no effort to hide his fury and disappointment at being displaced in favor of a newcomer.

For an instant, Naran considered. There was no point in continuing his masquerade any further. Dar Girdek was gone and he’d have to take the caravan back anyway—if he could work his way out of here, past Barra.

If he couldn’t get out—if he joined his brother and Dar Girdek—it would make no difference what the caravan drivers thought.

He could put this man in his place right now. Then, he could give him the job of lead driver.

But there was something else to think of. If he got the train out of here, he would have to work with this guy. And there would always bean even greater resentment added to the normal fear and hatred of the psionic. That could demoralize the whole train. Naran sighed.

Rosel had put his feelings in the open now and Naran would have to play out the role he had assumed.

He crossed the room to confront Rosel. Abruptly, he thrust a hand out. The other made a grab for it and Naran moved smoothly forward, locking the grasping hand.

Quickly he extended a leg and threw Rosel over it. As the man hit the floor, Naran retained his grip and brought his other hand over, twisting the man’s arm. His foot went out, to smack into the man’s face, pinning him to the floor. Slowly, he put pressure on the prisoned hand.

“Once more,” he said coldly, “I’m going to have everyone out on the herd right after breakfast. Now, do you want to go out and work with ’em, or do I keep winding up on this thing and then have ’em load you up with the rest of the spare gear?”

“Aw, look.” Rosel’s voice was muffled. “Didn’t mean a thing, I was just making a crack.”

“Yeah, sure.” Naran’s voice was scornful. “Just having a little fun before breakfast. Now you listen to me. So long as I’m lead driver, you’re going to do what I say—when I say it. If you give me any more trouble, I’ll pull your head off and make you carry it under one arm. Got it?”

“Ow! Yeah, I got it. You’re the lead driver.”

Naran released his pressure and stepped back.

[p44]“All right,” he said. “Let’s forget it. Now, we’ll get breakfast over with and then we’ll take care of the long-necks. You take the drivers out, Rosel. I’m going to make some arrangements in the village. Be with you later.” He swung away.

Barra looked at his reflection with satisfaction. It was too bad, he thought, that he didn’t have some companion to appreciate his wealth and power. He examined his equipment carefully.

Everything was clean. Everything was in order. There was no device lacking.

Proudly, he looked down at the huge, yellow pendant he was wearing for the first time. It was funny, he thought, that he had never considered a probe unit before. Now that he thought of it, this was a most satisfactory device. Now, he could look into his villagers’ minds and see clearly what lay there. Even, he could get some ideas of the intentions of visiting caravan masters.

Fitting the device and becoming familiar with it had been hard work, of course, but he had mastered it. And today, he could wear the jewel and use it. It would make the day’s work easier.

He activated his levitator, floated to his boat, and pulled it away from its shelter, setting the course toward Tibara.

The hard part of this operation was over, he thought. The rest was simple routine.

This caravan master had given hima bit more trouble than some of the others, but his final reaction had been just like all the others. He smiled.

That flash of incredulity, followed by sudden, horrified comprehension, then blankness, was becoming perfectly familiar. In fact, even this was simple routine.

He wondered if he might be able to extend just a little. Perhaps he could operate on a wider scale. There should be some way he could work out to take over a neighboring estate and go from there.

Surely, there must be some outlet for his abilities, beyond mere increase in the wealth of Kira Barra. And there must be some way to gain a companion of sorts. He would have to think that over.

He swung the boat to the pier and floated away, grandly ignoring the pseudomen who hurried to secure his lines.

He examined the village with approval as he stood in the center of the clearing. There had been a great improvement since he had taken that headman in hand. Perhaps this fellow would be satisfactory—might even learn to take some pride in the appearance of his village—if, that is, a pseudoman were capable of pride.

He looked over toward the headman’s hut.

The fellow had come out, followed by the lead driver of the caravan. Good, that would save the trouble of hunting the fellow out.

He concentrated on the caravan slave.

[p45]“Your master has decided to remain at the Residence for a time,” he thought confidently. “You may have your drivers load up and move to a more permanent location.”

The answering thought was unexpectedly distinct.

“This location looks as though it were designed for a caravan’s stay. Where’s Dar Girdek?”

Barra looked at the man in surprise. What was this? This fellow didn’t think like any pseudoman. Had Dar Girdek somehow managed to persuade a halfman to act as his lead driver? But why?

He drew back a little, tensing. There was something wrong here.

“Now, look,” persisted the man before him. “I’d like to see Dar Girdek. I’d like to know why I haven’t been able to get in touch with him this morning.”

Barra blinked, then activated the new probe. He would have to find out what this man knew—how much others might know. Abruptly, he felt a violent return of the fear sickness which had temporarily subsided with the death of Dar Girdek.

The probe was met by an impenetrable barrier. Barra’s eyes widened. This man was no halfman, either. He was one of the great psionics. Frantically, Barra’s thought retraced the past.

Was this an investigator from the Council? Was he, Kio Barra, suspect? But how had any leak occurred? The fear grew, till he could almost smell the sour stench of it. And with it, came a buoying lift of pure fury.

This man may have unmasked him, to be sure. The Council might even now be sending men to take him, but this spy would never know the results of his work. He would profit nothing here.

He flipped the distorter from under his arm.

As the Master Protector started to raise his distorter, Naran felt a sharp twinge of regret. He had resigned himself to this, and had made his preparations, but he hated to leave Barra to someone else. Of course, the man had no chance now. The disturbance he had keyed himself to make if he were hit with a distorter would be heard by every scholar in Ganiadur, and by half the Council.But—

Suddenly, he felt a sort of pity for the killer before him. The guy wasn’t really altogether to blame. He’d been living for all these years with everything against him.

Born into a psionic family, he had been the family skeleton—a thing of disgrace—to be hidden from the rest of the world and given tolerant protection.

And when this barely tolerated being had managed somehow to gain power and get amplifying devices?Well—

The crystal was leveled at him now. He looked at it indifferently, thinking of the man who held it.

“Poor, lonesome weakling!”

Abruptly, the clearing was lit up by a blinding red glare. Naran closed his eyes against the searing light.[p46]Seconds went by and he opened his eyes again, looking about the village in confusion.

Had he somehow managed to retain full consciousness of ego, even after being reduced by a distorter beam? Was there a release into some other state of being? He hadfelt no—

He looked at Kio Barra. The man stood, slack-faced, still holding his distorter rod, but gradually allowing it to sag toward the ground. Naran shook his head.

“Now, what goes on?”

He probed at the man’s mind.

There was consciousness. The man could think, but the thoughts were dim and blurred, with no trace of psionic carrier. The control and amplifier jewels he wore had lost their inner fire—were merely dull, lifeless reflectors of the sunlight. This man could do no more toward bringing life to the jewels than could the village headman—perhaps, even less.

Naran looked at him in unbelieving confusion, then turned as a sudden, screaming thought struck his mind.

“A stinking, high-nosed witchman! And we thought he was one of us! Ate with him. Argued with him. Even fought with him. I’ve got to get away. Got to!”

There was desperation in the thought. And there were hatred overtones, which blended, then swelled.

As the terrorized ululation went on, Naran swung his head, locating the source. He’d have to do something about that—fast. The fellowwould really demoralize the caravan now—even infect the big saurians—cause a stampede.

This guy had some power of projection and his terror was intensifying it till anyone could receive the disturbing impulses, even though complete understanding might be lacking.

Naran lifted himself from the ground, arrowing rapidly toward the caravan, his mind already forming the thoughts which he hoped would soothe the frantic fear and—at least to some degree—allay the frenzy of hatredthat swelled and became stronger and stronger.

Barra could wait.

As Barra swung his distorter to bear, he concentrated on the violent pulse needed to trigger the jewel, his mind closed to all else. He turned his attention on his target.

Suddenly, he recognized the curiously tender expression which had formed on the face of the man before him.

Frantically, he tried to revise his thoughts—to recall the blaze of energy he had concentrated to build up.

It was too late.

With a sense of despair, he recognized the sudden, lifting, twisting agony that accompanied the flare of the overloaded power crystal. For an eternal instant, his universe was a blinding, screaming, red nightmare.

The flare died and he watched dully as the unharmed man before him looked about unbelievingly, then[p47]looked back to carefully examine him.

“Oh,” he told himself dully. “I suppose they’ll take care of me, but what of it? They’ll put me somewhere. I’ll lose everything. It’ll be just like the place Boemar thought of sending me,when I—”

Furiously, he tried to summon some tiny bit of energy to activate the distorter.

Nothing happened.

The man whose pity had destroyed him suddenly frowned, then turned and darted away. Dully, Barra watched him, then he turned, to look around the village. His face contorted in new terror.

Some of the village men were moving toward him, curious expressions on their faces. He backed away from them and turned.

A few more had moved to block his path.

They were grunting and hissing to each other. Barra looked from face to face, then looked over toward the well.

There were men over there, too, by the pile of stones. The old man who worked on the retaining walls of the village had picked up some of his building material.

He stood, eying Barra calculatingly, a stone poised in each hand.

THE END

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