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Updated: June 10, 2025
"So far we've managed not to understand that. And if anyone tries it on his own, refer him to me understand?" "Yes, sir!" Some of the relief in Raf's tone came through, and he saw that the captain was watching him narrowly. "You don't like these people, Kurbi?" The pilot replied with the truth. "I don't feel easy with them, sir. Not that they've shown any unfriendliness.
But what the painted warrior was looking for was a crystal box on a shelf to Raf's left. When he had pointed that out to an underling he was off again, and Raf was free to continue his crab's progress.
Something was very, very dead and not too far away. The officer must have come to the same conclusion, for he hurried to open the other door. Before them now was a narrow hall broken by slit windows, near the roof, through which entered sunlight. And one such beam fully illuminated a carcass as large as that of a small elephant, or so it seemed to Raf's startled gaze.
Raf's expert training and instruction paid off. By evening he had the flitter assembled save for the motor which still reposed on the turning block. One party had gone questing out into the grass and returned with the story of a stream hidden in a gash in the plain, and Wonstead carried the limp body of a rabbit-sized furred creature he had knocked over at the waterside. "Acted tame."
What if something like Pax ruled here? They had no way of knowing for sure. Raf's eyes met Soriki's, and the com-tech's hand dropped to hook fingers in his belt within touching distance of his side arm. The flitter pilot nodded. "Kurbi!" Hobart's impatient call sent him on his way.
At the time of the Persimmon's remarks about the raft two of Peter's callers, Jim Pink Staggs and Parson Ranson, took the roustabout to task. Jim Pink based his objection on the grounds of glutting the labor market. "Ef us niggers keeps turnin' too many raf's loose fuh de prize-money," he warned, "somebody's goin' to git 'spicious, an' you'll ruin a good thing."
More twists of woven fabric, opalescent and changing color as his head moved, made a turban for his head. Most of the aliens about the room wore some variation of the same bandage dress, face paint, and turban. An exception, one of three such, was the feaster on Raf's left. His face paint was confined to a conservative set of bars on each cheek, those a stark black and white.
If what he read in Raf's mind was true the other wanted to leave Astra, to voyage back to that other world which was only a legend to Dalgard, and a black, unhappy legend at that. If the Elders were here, had a chance to contact these men from Terra Dalgard's eyes narrowed, would they choose to?
A survival kit depended a great deal on the type of terrain in which the user was planning to survive an aquatic world would require certain basic elements, a frozen tundra others but there were a few items common to every emergency, and those were now at Raf's fingertips.
The words addressed to him were clear, though they had not been spoken aloud. Raf's hand went to the pocket where two more of the blast bombs rested. "And this is your battle as much as ours!" But it wasn't his fight! Dalgard had gone too far with that suggestion. Raf had no ties on this world, the RS 10 was waiting to take him away.
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