"No question as to that," said Dumarest. "But the Erce's a free trader and we all have a stake in what's decided." To the man he said, "Can you handle a Belmonte gauge?"

"Sure."

"And a Vicks-Conway vernier?" As the man hesitated Dumarest said, "Lie again and that's the last drink you'll ever taste. There's no such thing as a Belmonte gauge. Beat it!"

Batrun sighed as the man obeyed. "He was the last of the bunch, Earl. As useless as the rest of them but he helped to advertise our interest."

And had been desperate enough to take a chance on a bluff. One which could have killed them all had he got away with it. Dumarest took a seat and looked up as a girl set down a flagon and thin glasses.

"A gift, sir," she said before he could question. "From the gentleman over there."

It was Vosper and he came toward them, smiling.

"Drink," he said. "Celebrate. I bring good news."

"Such as?"

"A proposition." The entrepreneur lowered his bulk into a chair and busied himself with the flagon. "To you, my dear. And you, Captain. Earl!" He lifted his own glass. "To health!"

Dumarest said, "What is the proposition?"

"Money in hand to pay the cost of repairs. Good, eh?"

"So far. And?"

Vosper drank some of his wine, turning the glass so as to study the color, pursing his lips as if to savor the taste. He was taking his time, enjoying the moment.

Dumarest said patiently, "You were saying?"

"Nothing, but I was thinking of how appreciative you might be. Unless the repairs are paid you will lose your vessel, right?"

"So?"

"It seems you are in my debt, Earl. And you must acknowledge that."

"Yesterday that would have been true," admitted Dumarest. "Today it is not This afternoon I took wine with the head of the Yekatania. Vruya-you may have heard of him." He set down his untouched wine. "I am also friendly with Eunice-again she is of the Yekatania. I was able to do her a small service. You may have heard of it." Rising he said, "A pity you came too late."

"Wait!" Vosper caught Dumarest by the arm. "I-damn it, man, you can't blame me for trying! At least hear what I have to offer."

"You mentioned money."

"Enough to pay all repair bills. The pressure will be off and you-" Vosper broke off, shaking his head. "An opportunity," he mourned. "A golden opportunity. One lost because we can't agree on a trifle of commission. Did I mention the repair money was just an advance?"

"In return for what?"

"I can't tell you that. Not here. But you're interested? I'm not wasting my time?"

Dumarest said, "Come to the Erce in an hour-and bring who you're working for with you."

He came cloaked and muffled to stand in the vestibule beyond the lock as Dumarest made it fast. Vosper, looking anxious, said, "I don't think we were seen, Earl, but if we were?"

"You came with Ysanne and stayed to talk. Your friend can be hidden." Dumarest looked at the cloaked figure. "Do I know you?"

"No. We are strangers."

"But we've met before. When the Nairn left-you were at the edge of the field. Am I to know your name?" Then, as the man hesitated, he added, "I told you before-the next time we spoke I would see your face. Now be open or leave!"

"I am Leo Belkner." The cloak opened and swung back over the man's shoulders. "As you see I am of the Ypsheim."

"So?"

"It seems I must tell you exactly what that means."

He explained in the salon, seated at the table, Vosper at his side. The entrepreneur, uneasy, gave added emphasis to his words.

"We are captives," he said. "I use the word in its truest sense. Not slaves or victims of war but a people held in bondage, who now have a special place in the social structure of Krantz. You may already have gained some idea as to what that place is."

Servants-Dumarest remembered Vruya's casual dismissal of the deaths of two of them. And yet they seemed to have freedom of movement. The underprivileged? The despised?

Belkner said, "It happened a long time ago. When the Ypsheim came to Krantz they came as beggars, bringing nothing and needing all. In return for aid, succor and sanctuary they promised servitude. The Quelen, too occupied with their feuds and strife, were glad to be freed of the bulk of essential labor. So the bargain, was agreed and sealed by both parties of that time. In return for labor the Quelen gave food, homes, care, the protection of law and the benefit of an established society. As payment the Ypsheim made a contract of debt. Until that debt has been paid we cannot leave this planet."

"So pay it," said Ysanne. "And be free."

"It isn't as simple as that." Vosper cleared his throat. "Accumulated interest has made the total debt astronomical. Even split it's far too much for any individual to pay."

"So leave anyway." Ysanne added, meaningfully, "There's more than one way to settle a debt."

As the Quelen must know. Dumarest leaned back, thinking, remembering the faces of the Ypsheim. Placid for the most part. Calm. For generations they had been trained to serve-what chance would they have against those steeled in conflict?

To Belkner he said, "You can't get permission to leave and you'd be slaughtered if you tried to rebel. So you are willing to meet our repair bill in return for giving you transportation away from Krantz. Correct?"

"Yes."

Batrun said, "It can't be done. There are too many of you."

"Not all." Vosper was quick with his interjection. "Just a full load. This ship's geared for it and you have staples to provide rations. Carry them under quick-time and-" His gesture completed the sentence. Men whom he thought were slavers should have no trouble. "Just the one run."

Carrying a proscribed cargo-one slip and they'd be blasted from the sky.

She had been dreaming but now it was over and it was good just to lie and watch the patterns on the ceiling. The mesh of lines which blurred to reform and take the shape of faces and things. Julienne whom she had known as a child and Franz who had been spiteful when he played and old Jehel, faithful old Jehel, who had looked like a tree with her face all wrinkled and dark and a voice which sounded like the rustle of leaves.

These memories yielded to other things, vistas of emptiness, the hurt of knowing her own inadequacy. The sneers of those around her and the gradual retreat into a world of her own, where she had found the secret of power. The ability to command and to be obeyed.

"Eunice?" She blinked at the face above her. "Eunice darling." Urich pressed the hand he held between his own. "Do you feel better now?"

A stupid question-when had she ever been ill?

"Eunice?"

"Go!" She smiled as the face vanished. "Come back!"

"Here." He had stooped to pick up a glass of juice, sweet yet with a tang. With, too, a sedative to calm her nerves. "Drink a little." His voice hardened as she refused to obey. "Drink, Eunice! Drink!"

"Go to hell!" Amusement bubbled within her at his shocked expression. "I don't need you, Urich. Not now. Not ever again. I just don't need you."

She saw his face crumple, a paper-mask falling to reveal his hurt. A confession of weakness which she found repulsive. One which caused her to rear upright on the bed, to fight a sudden nausea, to feel rage come with its hot and strengthening fire.

"Leave me! Get out!"

"Eunice, please, I-"

"Get out, you fool! Get out… out… out… out…"

"My lady, please rest." Wilma was all over her, ready with her comfort as she was always ready, smothering her with concern. The scent of her hair was born of soap and brushing. "Rest, my lady. Please rest."

"Leave me alone, you cow! You sent him away. He was here and now he's gone."

"And will return, my lady. When you have rested he will return. Now take a little of this." The woman lifted the glass she had taken from Urich. "A little more. That's better. And again. There's a good girl."