"You're vile!"

"No, my dear," he said blandly. "Not vile-human. She is a woman, is she not? And I am a man."

"Degenerate filth!" She stood looking down at him, her eyes cold. "I warn you, Marek Cognez. If you touch her I'll-"

"Do what?" He rose to face her, his eyes as hard and bleak as her own. "You threaten me? That is a challenge I am tempted to accept. And if I should take the girl what could you do? Nothing. Nothing."

"Perhaps not," said Dumarest. "But I could. Touch Embira and you'll answer to me."

"A challenge multiplied." For a moment Marek held his eyes, and then abruptly, shrugged and smiled. "You make the odds too great, Earl. A woman, what is that to come between friends? And we are friends, are we not?"

Dumarest said, "Pacula, if you're going to the girl go now." As she left the salon he sat and looked at Marek. "One day you'll go too far. And you're wrong about Pacula not being able to take revenge. Any woman can use a knife against a man when he is asleep. She may not kill you, but she could ruin your face and teach you what it is to be blind."

"And you, Earl?"

"I'd kill you."

A cold statement of fact which the man accepted for what it was. Even so, the devil within him forced him on.

"An interesting development, Earl. Had another man made that threat I would assume him to be in love with the girl. Or are you anticipating the future and the enjoyment of unsullied goods?"

Timus said quickly, "Be careful, Marek."

"Another warning? This seems to be a time of warnings. Even the cards are full of dire prophecy. A pity the captain had no trust in my skill. But then-one less and the more to share."

"The more of what?" Jarv Nonach gestured with his pomander. "As yet we have found nothing, and unless we can break through the walls, we'll remain empty-handed. Did you have any luck?"

"No," admitted Dumarest.

"Then what is left?" The navigator looked from one to the other. "I say we should leave here and return later with rafts and-"

"No!" Sufan's hand slammed on the table. "No!"

"What point in staying? With the captain dead I am in command of the Mayna. I am a fair man and as eager as any of you to find treasure, but the wall beats us. How long are we to sit looking at it? I say we leave. With rafts and other equipment we could crack that city open like a nut."

"We stay!" Sufan Noyoka was trembling with passion. "To have come so far, to have risked so much-we stay!"

"For a little longer." The navigator rose, his face drawn, determined. "But not for too long. I command the Mayna now and when I leave you may come or stay as you wish."

Dumarest said, "We are partners, Jarv. Sufan Noyoka leads this expedition."

"Then why doesn't he accept the obvious? It's our lives as well as his. Acilus is dead-how many more must follow him? Without equipment we haven't a chance. No, Earl, I've decided. One more day and then I leave."

A threat he might have carried out had he been allowed, but when the blue sun rose and the yellow sank he was dead.

* * *

Dumarest heard the cry and was running, catching Usan Labria as she fell, following the finger of her pointing hand.

"Earl," she gasped. "I found him. The navigator-under that bush."

She was quivering, her lips blue, pain contorting her raddled features. Dumarest passed her to Timus as he came running, Marek at his side.

"Earl?"

"Take her back to the ship. Get hold of Pacula, she knows what to do."

"And Jarv?"

"I'll see what's wrong."

There was nothing he could do. The man sat with his back against a bole, his head slumped forward down on his chest, one hand clenched at his side, the other open, the pomander lying an inch from his fingers. Dumarest halted Marek as he moved forward.

"Wait. Look around. See if you can spot tracks of any kind."

"On this moss?"

"The stems could be broken. Look."

A heavy weight would have left an impression but nothing could be found aside from the marks of the navigator's footprints and those left by Usan and themselves. Dumarest quested in a wide circle, frowning as he rejoined Marek.

"Nothing?"

"No."

"Which means nothing jumped him from the vegetation," mused Marek. "He must have come out here to sit, maybe to think and plan, resting his back against the bole and then something happened. But what? There seems to be no sign of a struggle. Poison of some kind? Those blooms, Earl! The bush he is under bears blossom. Could they have emitted a lethal vapor of some kind?"

"Perhaps." Dumarest glanced at the sky. This world was strange, beneath the varying influence of the suns anything could happen. "Be careful now, don't get too close."

Holding his breath he lifted the dead man's face. It was tranquil, the open eyes glazed, the lips slightly parted. The skin was cool and a little moist. Death had come quickly.

Marek said, "Shall we bury him, Earl?"

"If you want to, go ahead."

"And you?"

"I've work to do in the ship."

A plan he had made and devices he and the engineer had worked on while the others rested. The navigator was dead-left or buried, to him it was the same, but the living still faced a problem.

"Do you think they'll work, Earl?" Timus looked dubiously at what they'd made; soft hemispheres of rubber backed by a stronger layer and fitted with loops. Gekko pads to fit to wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles, any six of the suction cups sufficient to hold his weight.

"It's a chance," said Dumarest. "The wall is smooth and the cups should hold if we figured right."

"If they don't we're stuck, Earl. I don't know what else we can do. Jarv was right in a way. We need rafts and special equipment. Sufan Noyoka should have thought about it Well, it's too late now, but maybe Jarv had the right idea. You burying him?"

"Marek's seeing to it." Dumarest anticipated the obvious question. "No sign of what killed him, but he went peacefully."

"His heart must have given out." Timus rubbed his hand over his chin. "He was always sniffing at that pomander and it was only a matter of time before the drugs got him. "Two down," he said. "And it's my guess the old woman will be next."

Pacula was with her, sitting beside the cot, bathing the raddled face with water. Usan's breathing was labored, her fingers twitching, plucking at her dress. Weakly she tried to smile.

"Age, Earl. It's beating me. Jarv?"

"Dead and being buried. His heart must have given out. There was no sign of any attack." Dumarest touched the woman's throat, his fingers resting on the pulse. "We don't want you going the same way. It would be best for you to sleep for a while. Pacula?"

"I'll see to it. Earl."

"No!" Usan clenched her hands, eyes brimming with tears at her own weakness. "Damn this body! I don't want to sleep. I want to see what's in the city."

"If we manage to get inside you'll be with us. That's a promise."

"You're kind," she whispered. "I'll hold you to that. But can you get inside?"

Dryly he said, "There's only one way to find out."

Sufan Noyoka's dry voice issued a list of instructions as they headed toward the wall.

"Remember to fix the rope as soon as you reach the top, Earl. Make no attempt to get into the city until I am with you. Are you armed?"

"He's armed." Timus handed Dumarest a machine gun. "Hang this around your neck, Earl. It's cocked and ready to fire on full automatic."

Dumarest weighed it in his hand then handed it back.

"I'll pull it up if and when I reach the top," he said. "I've enough weight to carry as it is."

His own body, the pads, the rope wrapped around his waist, the grapnel swinging between his shoulders. Reaching the foot of the wall he looked upward. Every spot was the same and one was as good as another. As the others watched he stepped close to the smooth expanse, lifted his arms, slammed the pads against the wall, followed with a leg. With the pads holding he lifted his free leg and set it higher than the other. Then an arm pulled free, lifted and made fast. The other leg. The other arm. A leg again.