And to most as Jwani had explained. Those who searched for trannaks followed a predictable pattern but he had worked out new methods based on the habits of the beasts. Dumarest was basing his actions on what he had learned.

He explained, "If we do what the others are doing well have no better chance than they have. Less as only one of us is experienced. This way, if I'm right we can move fast and cut down the risks. If I'm wrong we can go back to the old way. Now, Zarl, it's up to you."

Only a fool would hire an expert and then ignore his advice. Dumarest had deliberately placed the man in charge and would obey him unless and until he made obvious mistakes or showed too much reluctance.

The guide said, "Right The first thing we do is to seal up and stay sealed until we tent. Out here a sudden flurry of wind can drive grit into your eyes and before you could get it out you could be dead. Down under you'll be sending out signals all the time and it's suicide to amplify them."

"Signals?"

"Vibrations." Zarl looked at the mercenary. "Each time you take a step you send out vibrations. Each time you move or talk. Old hunters use sign language but we haven't time for that. And there's body heat and humidity. Even with the suits tight-sealed some gets through. To stay alive you must never forget what it is we're up against." He turned, looking at the desert rolling away from the foot of the range, the sky resting like a clear bowl of tinted azure above. A mote showed, falling in a shimmer of blue from its Erhaft Field, sound echoing as sonic waves signaled its descent. "Hell," he said. "It's a ship."

There would be a storm, Ellain was sure of it. All afternoon she had sat at the window looking toward the distant loom of the Goulten Hills, feeling the constriction of her stomach as the tension mounted. And yet the day had remained calm, the surface of the desert undisturbed aside from the thin, whipping lines which broke the surface far away lines which her imagination multiplied with dire foreboding.

The hum of the phone caused her heart to pound.

"Yes?" It was Yunus, smiling, smoothly bland. "I thought you had died," she snapped at the screen. "How long has it been?"

"Too long, my dear, and I am touched that you have missed me. But surely you did not lack companionship?" His smile was the bared snarl of a feline. "Am I to believe that you have waited patiently for me to call?"

He knew, she could sense it, and cursed the spying maid and her love of money. She must have informed him of all that had happened. Well, what of it? He didn't own her and had only himself to blame for having neglected her. If he had been at her side would she have found Dumarest so attractive? She knew the answer-always she would sense his appeal.

She said, harshly, feigning anger, "Are you questioning me?"

"My dear, I am merely calling to ask if you will accommodate me. A small favor I am sure you will not begrudge. I want you to appear at a dinner I am giving this evening for a very special guest. Later, naturally, we can talk."

A threat? It was like him and she was uneasily aware of how vulnerable she was. More now than before and if he should turn vindictive-

"A guest? One just arrived?"

"Yes, my dear. Cyber Tosya."

He was tall, thin to the point of emaciation, his shaven head giving his face a taut, skull-like appearance. He wore a robe of shimmering scarlet the great seal of the Cyclan glowing on its breast. His sleeves were wide, his hands long-fingered, smooth, the ends rounded, the nails filed to slender points. His eyes were large and held the glow of trained intelligence. His voice was a clear modulation carefully enunciated and eliminate all irritant factors.

Meeting him, Ellain shivered.

There was something inhuman about the man, a cold, hard, inflexible core which she with her woman's intuition both resented and feared. A creature of emotion herself she lacked any empathy with another to whom emotion was an aberration. Tosya could never feel as she did. Never know hate and love and anger and joy. Training and an operation at puberty had divorced reason from glandular influence.

Food, to him, was fuel and a body overburdened with unessential tissue was an inefficient machine. Pain was foreign to him as was desire. His only pleasure lay in intellectual achievement.

Tosya, like all cybers, was a living robot of flesh and blood.

Now he sat in the place of honor at the table and listened to the ebb and flow of conversation. The heaped dishes and various wines left him unmoved as had the entertainment provided. If anything they proved the inadequacy of those who were slaves to emotion. But the conversation held interest; much could be learned from a few idly related facts.

"The reason for my visit?" He gestured with one delicate hand. "Harge has always interested me and when the opportunity arose I was eager to learn certain facts at first hand. Your culture is most intriguing. A rigid capitalistic hierarchy with a few owning all."

"The first came, built, why shouldn't they reap what they have sown?" Old Keith Ambalo was quick to defend the order of things. "The Cinque have a right to rule."

"But for how long?" Jen Tinyah, old, twisted, his eyes like splintered glass peering from a tangle of hair, fired the question as if from a gun. "Cyber, can you tell us that?"

Tosya could but such information was not freely given. He said, "If you are interested in obtaining the services of the Cyclan I am sure the matter can be arranged."

"For money, of course." Romi Barrocca made no effort to hide his sneer. "Always it is for money."

"As it should be!" The slam of Mangit Yagnik's hand on the table echoed from the groined roof and sent glasses shivering. "You sneer, Romi, but how are you different? What do you give away? The price your family demands for water is monstrous!"

"As is yours for power!"

"Gentlemen!" Yunus Ambalo rose, hands lifted for attention. "This altercation is unseemly and an insult to our guest Cyber Tosya, I appreciate your position and am aware of your difficulty, but, as a favor to us of the Cinque, could you not, in general terms, naturally, give us your opinion as to our culture?"

Smooth, thought Ellain as he sat. As subtle as a serpent and as ready to strike. And yet she knew that in the cyber he had met his match. Tosya could not be flattered, bribed or intimidated. What he did he would do for the Cyclan and for no other reason.

"The culture here is brittle," said Toysa. "An uneasy balance which contains the seeds of its own destruction. This is true of all static societies, of course, but here on Harge you have an artificial environment which will accelerate the decay. Unless steps are taken it will occur in about thirty years." He added, "To be more precise I would need more accurate data than I have available."

Facts from which his trained mind could extrapolate the logical sequence of events. The attribute of every cyber; all could make predictions as to what must occur from any event or course of action.

As a storm of protest rose from those of the Cinque gathered at the table Toysa said, "The obvious is often difficult to recognize, but the problem here is one of simple mathematical extrapolation. You have a ratio of rulers to workers which is veering to a dangerous level. To live in comfortable idleness those not of the Cinque must acquire the debts of those less fortunate and so live off the interest. This system of debt-dependency, however, is virtual suicide for any enclosed community."

Yunus, lifting a hand for silence, said, "Would you care to explain? Credit, surely, is beneficial to trade."

"Normal credit, yes, but your interest rate is far too high. Unless the interest is paid each month the total mounts until the figures become meaningless. True wealth is based on actual production-interest rates create an unreal situation and, when too high, must result in inflation and depreciation of the currency. The danger of high rates is that the debtor loses all hope and becomes resigned to the situation of his inability to pay. The owner of the debt tries to sell it but cannot because there is no hope of regaining the money. Once a man is in debt he cannot borrow and so trade stagnates and workers become listless."