He said, "Assuming Earth exists why would it not be listed?"

"Who knows?" Jwani shrugged. "Lost, perhaps? Forgotten? Or if it is a world of legend such as Jackpot or Bonanza then there was nothing to list. But that isn't answering your question. The assumption is that the planet is real but, for some reason, uncharted. Frankly, Earl, I don't know."

A wall, one he had bumped into so many times before, and Dumarest felt again the quenching of hope. But still there could be information to be gained.

"This person from whom you heard the name-did he say more?"

"Vy Wene? No."

"Does he live on Harge?"

"No. He came with a party to buy tranneks and, naturally, came to see me. I hosted him and we had long talks. He also was fond of wine and shared my pleasure in logic games. It was he who told me of the woman with the multiple heads. There were others-so many I've forgotten-but once we got onto the subject of legendary worlds and Earth was mentioned. He said that some believed all humanity had originated on one planet and that world was Earth. They had spread to other systems and settled to grow and move on. And ingenious theory but obviously illogical. How could one world have supported all the diverse races we know? All stemming from one world would surely look and be alike; the same conditions must produce the same shape, form and color. I pointed this out to him and he agreed with the basic idiocy of the belief."

"The Original People," said Dumarest.

"What?"

"Nothing." The man had given no response and it was highly improbable that he was one of them. "Just a sect which holds the beliefs you mentioned. They are very secretive. Did your friend speak of them?"

"No. Vy Wene had other things on his mind. The price of tranneks for one." Jwani smiled at pleasant memories. Storms had been many, ships few and the price was high. "Earl, I am remiss! Some coffee now, laced with some rare brandy and topped with a rich cream. I have a knack with it."

It was hot, sweet and surprisingly pleasant Dumarest sipped, watching Jwani as he lifted his face from his cup, lips wreathed with cream. For a moment he resembled a clown, then, as he wiped away the whiteness, he was himself again; a man who masked his inner self and was more cunning than he appeared.

The lie he must have spread about his pre-collapse amnesia-a man, drunk and by his own admission unable to remember, could pick up useful information from those too trusting to guard their tongues. And none but the wealthy could afford to live in the style he enjoyed. Dumarest had no illusions about the rich. To be that way and stay that way they needed to be far from stupid.

He said, "A personal question, Alejandro, you will not take offense?"

"Can any be taken when none is intended? What is it, Earl?"

"I had the impression you were a hunter. But on Harge? And you mentioned selling and-" His hand moved to take in the room. "A hobby?"

"What do you do, Earl? Travel and fight and do what? Look for Earth?" Jwani smiled as Dumarest nodded. "I like a man who is honest and I will respond in kind. I am, in a way, a hunter. Not to kill beasts and collect their heads as trophies but for something else. And, yes, much in this room constitutes a hobby. Look!" He led the way to where a complex machine stood beneath a transparent dome. Within it a disc spun and a lamp winked intermittently from a point at the summit. "Perpetual motion, Earl. Or as near to it as we could ever come. The disc is supported and held by a magnetic field induced in near-absolute temperature. The cold has turned the metal into a super-conductor in which all resistance has been abolished. That is perpetual motion; an impulse received will circulate without loss until heat is applied or the model collapses. Of course a machine built on these principles could only operate on frozen worlds or in space itself."

"The energy output must be small," said Dumarest. "What use would it be?"

"The energy output would be almost negligible," corrected Jwani. "You can't get out what you don't put in. But there is a slight imbalance in our favor; enough for the thing to be useful as a low-power radio beacon or something like that. And this." He moved on. "A set of perfect bearings, Earl. They will last until the steel they support has worn away and still be perfect."

Dumarest leaned forward to look at the ball-race, the odd color of the bearings it contained. "They look like stones."

"They are stones; tranneks. I hunt for them and I sell them." Jwani added after a pause, "I also deal in them."

Dumarest looked closer at the bearings. They held shimmers as of trapped light and their surfaces were polished to the smoothness of oil. Each was about an inch in diameter.

"Tranneks," said Jawanl. "I have better ones over here."

They rested in a safe which he opened to display them on a nest of wadding. Black softness which accentuated their shimmering beauty, colors flowing over their surfaces as he moved them beneath the light.

"The hardest things known, Earl. Harder by far than diamond. They make wonderful bearings but to use them so is to waste their potential. They have the ability to take all energy directed against one hemisphere and render it into a coherent beam. You know about lasers? The jewel they contain does the same. But these are far more efficient and far more versatile. They can take any energy; light, sound, vibration, and turn it into a shaft of compact power. They are used a lot in mining and construction; tunneling, bores and the like. The very noise of the drills can be recycled into a cutting beam." He replaced them in the safe. "Naturally they are extremely valuable."

"And you mine them?"

"No, Earl, hunt for them. Here, mostly." He rested his hand on a map hanging beside the safe. "In the Goulten Hills. With a little luck a man could pick up a fortune."

Kemmer said, "No! For God's sake, man, are you out of your mind? If you want to die why not open a vein and have done with it?" He paced the floor to the far wall, turned, paced back again. Five steps-Marta's room was small. "Earl, you're crazy!"

From where he sat on the edge of the narrow bed Santis rumbled, "Slow down, Maurice. No one's twisting your arm. You don't have to join in."

"Have I a choice?" The trader was bitter. "I'm stuck, caught in this damned trap like a fly on glue. If Marta hadn't died-" He looked at the room, the bare walls, the naked floor. The place was like a cell-only the fact that he could open the door and walk out saved it from being a jail. "But to hunt sannaks! Haven't you had enough of them? The one you faced was big enough but outside they grow ten times as large."

"We're not hunting them," explained Dumarest patiently. "We need to find out where they have their lairs. We don't have to kill them or even see them. All we want is to collect their droppings."

Waste and regurgitations contained the cleaned and polished nodules they ate with other stone from desert and mountain; the trannaks which rested in the vicinity and could buy freedom. Santis nodded as, again, Dumarest relayed what he had learned from Jwani.

"I get it, Earl. The sannaks live on crushed and pulverized rock. They need the minerals, I guess. The trannaks must rest in other material which they swallow, use, then void or spew out the residue. And this character deals in them?"

"Hunts, trades, deals, yes."

Kemmer said, "But why us?"

"Does it matter?" Santis was curt. "Earl's won us a chance. Why look a gift in the mouth?"

Dumarest said, "Jwani is wealthy but does not belong to the Cinque. That means he must pay over a part of every transaction to the Families for the use of the land. From what he told me they take first-cut so unless he's lucky he could end by working for nothing. He has to meet all expenses. It would be natural for him to want to get away with undeclared stones but unless he does his own collecting he lays himself open to blackmail. So he hinted, delicately, that if I were to come to him with some stones he wouldn't ask questions."