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Animals as well as men lived here and, ruthless though survival was, they were at least alive. In the wastes ahead no life was possible or visible, though there seemed to be no doubt that the D'zertanoj lived there. This must mean that though it looked unlimited as Ijale believed it to be there were probably arable lands on the other side.
Once this was finished he chewed at his oily fingernails since there was nothing else that could be done until the pressure built up again. The D'zertanoj would rally, someone would take charge, and they would attack the worksite. If they had enough steam before this happened, they would escape. If not
They were obviously slave masters and equals. "Killed a rosmaro today, second time in ten days," Ch'aka said. "You got a good piece coast. Plenty rosmaroj. Where the two slaves you owe me?" "I owe you two slaves?" "You owe me two slaves, don't play like stupid. I got the iron arrows for you from the D'zertanoj, one slave you paid with died. You still owe other one." "I got two slaves for you.
But I must first know what is the specialty of your clan, if you know what I mean. Like the Trozelligoj make caroj and the D'zertanoj pump oil. What do your people do?" "You cannot know as much as you say if you do not know of the glories of the Perssonoj!" "I come from a distant land and as you know news travels slowly around these parts."
The D'zertanoj seemed to never have experienced a night attack before, which they apparently thought this was, and did an incredible amount of rushing about and shouting. Matters were not helped by the burning building nor the unconscious form of Edipon that was carried from the blaze.
Jason leaped over the tumbled forms, rapped Edipon behind the ear with the hilt of his sword and dragged Mikah to his feet. "Get out to the engine works," he ordered his still uncomprehending companions. "I have a caroj there that we can get away in." He cursed them and they finally broke into clumsy motion. There were shouts from behind him and an armed mob of D'zertanoj ran into view.
Look on these monuments to ultimate selfishness and beware: this is the end product of the system that begins with slave-holders like the former Ch'aka with their tribes of krenoj crackers, and builds up through familiar hierarchies like the D'zertanoj and reaches its zenith of depravity behind those strong walls.
Ships could be seen from time to time offshore but nothing was known about them. On the other flank the territory was bounded by desert even more inhospitable than the one in which they scratched out their existence, a waste of lifeless sand, habitable only by the D'zertanoj and their mysterious caroj.
"Petroleum of course!" Jason enthused out loud, then bent his attentions to pushing when the overseer gave him an ugly look and cracked his whip menacingly. This was the secret of the D'zertanoj, and the source of their power. Mountains were visible nearby, and hills, towering above the surrounding walls.
Now he had to get some tools and some idea of the technical knowledge of these people before he could proceed, which would necessarily entail one more battle over their precious secrets. "Come on," he called to his guard, "let's find Edipon and give his ulcers another twinge." After his first enthusiasm the leader of the D'zertanoj was getting very little pleasure out of his new project.
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