Lin Carter - Down to a Sunless Sea by Lin Carter, Ken W. Kelly - Cover Read Free Book Online Page A

hunting. It took them an hour and a little more to find a rock lizard, which they slew and skinned before returning to their encampment. While they were doing this, Brent scanned the ridgeline—it had become a habit, almost automatic, to do this by now.
    And he saw four watchers. They were trying not to be seen, crouched low on the ridge, dark hooded robes blending with the harsh stone. Perhaps he would not have seen them at
    ali had not the sunlight momentarily reflected from a glass
    lens.
    The watchers were using binoculars. . . .
    All the rest of that day Brant felt the nape-hairs on his neck prickle under the scrutiny of those watching eyes far above. If the unknown watchers were raiders, outlaws, enemies of whatever nature, from the vantage of their height they could pick the members of the encampment off one by one with a laser rifle.
    If they were armed with energy weapons, that is. Which they undoubtedly were. Brant's thin lips twisted in a slight, sour and cynical grin: Colonial Administration law made it the highest of crime to sell guns to the natives, but the law was difficult, nearly impossible, to enforce. And Brant had run guns to more than a few of the native princelings in his time.
    It would be a bitter irony if one of those guns were to slay him now, he thought with grim humor.
    The women had prepared the evening meal earlier than usual. After they were through eating and had tended to the beasts, Brant sought out Harbin for a conference. He found the scientist still hunched over his fossils, examining them through a lens and from time to time making a brief entry in the small black notebook he carried.
    "Doc, you got a minute?" he asked.
    "Certainly. As a matter of fact, I could use a break," the older man remarked, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He gave Brant a shrewd glance. "What's up?"
    Brant shrugged. "Small council of war," he said. Then, as the older man listened without comment, Brant told him about the watchers on the height.
    "Four of them now," grunted Harbin, rubbing his lean jaw. "Who do you suppose they are, Jim?"
    "No idea," Brant admitted. "But they're up to no good, that's for sure. Ordinary travelers wouldn't have hung around ever since last night, just to keep an eye on us. . . ."
    "Well, they could hardly be the authorities, because we're doing nothing illegal," mused Harbin reflectively. "And, besides, I've never heard of the police riding the Highlands— don't they usually use aircraft?"
    Brant nodded.
    "So . . . they must be natives. But what could they possibly want from us? They must have their own lopers, so they shouldn't be all that interested in stealing ours . . . true, the tents and weapons are of value, but—d'you suppose they could have seen the women? In those voluminous robes, a woman doesn't look much different from a man. ..."
    "You're thinking they might be slavers?" Brant said slowly. Of course, the same possibility had occurred to him. The older man nodded, then shrugged.
    "Anything's possible, here in the Drylands," he remarked. "And they have to be after something!"
    Brant shook his head slowly.
    "It's hard to believe even slavers would risk a fight with three armed men, just for a couple of women. Especially since they can't have gotten a clear enough look at either of them to know whether they're young and attractive. After all, for all they know Zuarra and Suoli might be a couple of old crones we fetched along just to do the cooking."
    Harbin chuckled quietly at that. Then, sobering:
    "Well, Jim, what do you think we ought to do about our nosey friends on the ridgeline?"
    Brant had been considering that problem all day. "We've got three possible courses of action," he said. "In the first place, we could simply sit here pretending we don't know they're there, while keeping on the alert, of course. That way we force them to make the first move ... or give up and ride away."
    "But that means giving the initiative to our unknown friends," Doc pointed out. "And if they