So a dead pirate informed on no one. But tackling an off-worlder presented other problems, even to a man adept at rough fighting from combats on a dozen outer planets. Well, there was more than one way to milk a whale, Murv decided, and started after the pirate.

Flads! Why hadn't the fishboat swung just slightly port or starboard so he could see at least one letter of the code? And why hadn't the fishman emerged further from the hatch? Murv could have identified him with one clear glimpse of profile. Murv cursed again, remembering that the only other man out when the storm broke was Odis. He was cynic enough to believe any man capable of any deed, given the right combination of pressure and opportunity. But Odis? His love for the great whales was exceeded only by his love of this drenched world. He was the last man Murv would have suspected of treachery. Still, you never knew what went on inside a man's head: everyone had a price.

That settled it for Murv. He could not kill the outworlder until he had discovered the identity of both traitor and pirate—and learned, to his own satisfaction, why Odis tapped whales to death.

To Shahanna, time was shortened to the span involved in a simple physical effort. First one foot must lift, its toes finding a hold, somehow, on the treacherous rock. The toes must then grip long enough to tense the calf muscles which must inform the long thigh muscles of the effort required of them. Arms must, somehow, manage to retain their grip on the shock-webbing on the unquestionably valuable and impossibly heavy cube.

She was only vaguely aware of other pressures: the wind beginning to rise, gustily plucking at the overbalancing burden on her back now and then, or lightly cooling the sweat that trickled down her face and into her suit. The light was changing, darkening as the other side of the storm neared the island. She was completely unaware of being under observation or that her tenacity implied far greater familiarity with the terrain than she actually possessed. An innate sense of direction was another of her assets. Once she had been to any place on any world, she was able to retrace her steps to it, just as she was now heading toward the anonymous caim hidden.

She dragged herself and her burden into the cave and then, with a sigh of complete fatigue, curled around the cube, one hand seemingly welded to the shock web. That protective reflex as well as the darkening skies prevented Murv from locating her when he finally realized that she was no longer climbing ahead of him.

He had followed cautiously, therefore slowly, and was not unduly alarmed when he could no longer see the straining figure with its awkward load. At first, he wondered how the pirate could have gotten so far ahead of him. Then he reached the highest ridge of the southern escarpment and realized that the pirate must have taken cover. From here, the island jutted outward and downward.

At that moment Murv caught sight of the halfsubmerged craft. "Pladding stupid fool. He isn't going anywhere." He laughed. "But then is he?"

Carefully Murv worked over to the ship, using the tumbled rockscape to cover his advance, keeping close watch on the open hatch lest the pirate discover him prematurely. He agilely reached the open lock, listening for any sounds of activity within. It wasn't a large vessel but a single cabin job. He gave the deserted interior one sweeping look. So, the guy hadn't made it back. He'd gone to ground somewhere up in the crags.

Murv began to pick his way up again, following Shahanna's original route so, his back to the sea, he was unaware that he was being observed.

Odis had allowed the tides to pull him back under water, deep enough so that his progress could not be seen. He surfaced again, twice, in fact, looking for a way up the rock face so that he could outflank Murv.

He was annoyed that it was Murv up there on the rocks. Annoyed but puzzled. Murv gave every appearance of a man hiding. But why should he hide if he were the pirate's contact? And where was the iodine? Where, too, was Murv's fishboat? Glancing up at the clouds scudding and boiling on the horizon, Odis considered his next move. He had kept the drone just above the cloud cover, but now he directed it down to the northern part of the island to take a skimming run, hopefully to detect Murv's craft. The wind was rising enough to cover the whistling sound of a drone. Odis flipped on the visor and blinked at the rushing ocean picture on the tiny screen. He sent it twice over the northern arc of the island and it spotted his own boat moored to the east. But he found no trace of another fishboat, either visually or sonically. So he sent the drone aloft, remembering to check the wind velocity to be sure the drone was at a safe altitude. Then he sat down to think.

No ship. Had Murv lost his fishboat in the storm? Murv had a tendency to be too quick. After all, he wasn't all that accustomed to Welladan storm conditions. Of course, Murv might have discovered a ledge and moored the boat under that. One thing was certain, the pirate was going no place.

But who had blown off the after-section of the pirate's vessel? Had the Investigator arrived, spotted the pirate ship, and blasted it? If so, the Investigator must surely be at Shoulder now, so all Odis need do was wait until the storm lifted enough to get a message back there. He settled down to wait, keeping a weather eye on the approaching storm front. He had no intention of cutting it too close back to the safety of his own boat.

So why was Murv hiding? Had those three space shots been hostile rather than for identification?

The rain-laden wind began to keen in the darkening sky. Gouts of lightning spat through the bilious clouds. Warm air masses were moving in, Odis thought with pleasure. Storm is breaking up a little. Weather was capricious: a real mach-storm like this one, despite the pull of two moons and the conjunction of another planetary mass, could break up with a crustal shift up north.

Murv was moving, not merely shifting position but moving forward, darting to cover as he worked his way back up the slope. The rising wind was bothering him, Odis decided, and followed him obliquely. A flash of a head beam and Odis saw that Murv was definitely searching among the hollows and crevices of the cliff. Odis climbed faster.

He arrived in time to hear raised voices echoing in an argument. But the sounds were so diffuse and the rising wind so noisy that he could not pinpoint their location. Odis cursed softly under his breath as he jumped from crag to block, flashing his own beam in and out the darker hollows.

The next thing he knew, Murv had emerged from a low ledge, his arms wrapped around a foam-cask. Since there was no chance for Murv to reach his hand weapon, Odis stunned him with a full charge, neatly catching the cube as Murv folded.

Keeping one hand on the cube, Odis knelt and flashed his beam into the cavern. He caught sight of a dark lump that was a prostrate body. He turned it over and was reassured by a groan.

Rain began to spray across his back as he crouched between the two unconscious forms. He could just leave them here; they'd both be out a while. No. He didn't know where Murv's boat was and he couldn't permit the man to escape. Resigned, Odis settled down to wait.

"I don't know what you expected to find here," Okker said, his seamed face flushed with anger, "but are you satisfied now?"

"I really don't understand, Investigator," Tallav put in with understandable anxiety as he picked his way across the debris. "You certainly cannot have suspected Okker here, and he is absolutely the only one permitted in the Eye."

Brack was sweating from his exertions. He had pulled out every drawer, shelf, and movable fixture in the rock chamber, rapped on every inch of the rock walls, trying to find a hollow. He had moved his geiger counter over everything without a crackle for his pains. He didn't mind alienating Tallav or the ancient, but he was furious over the fruitlessness of his search. He glanced at the two men, somehow now allied against him. That wouldn't do.