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“Wonderful, isn’t it?” He gestured at the opening. “I have had my men digging that thing for months now. Stamping the removed dirt into the mud whenever it rains. I had pla

He turned and issued instructions, kicked one of his new slaves when she stumbled close.

“It would be nice to kill him,” Madonette said. Speaking for all of us, if the nodding heads meant anything.

“Caution,” I cautioned. “He has all the cards and the thugs right now. Let’s play the concert and figure out how we can get out of here after that.”

It wasn’t going to be easy. Svinjar’s oversized log cabin was filled with his men. Drinking but not drunk, boasting of their feats, drinking even more. We played a number but no one was listening.

Yes; Svinjar was. Listening and looking. Waddling towards us, silencing the music with a swipe of his hand. Dropping into his chair and fingering the hilt of his large sword embedded in the stone close by his hand. Smiling that humorless smile at me again.

“Life is a bit different here, isn’t it Jim?”

“You might say that.”

If he was looking for trouble I wasn’t going to supply it. I didn’t like the odds at all.

“We make our own life-and our own rules here. Out there in the androgynous, settled worlds of the galaxy, the effete intellectuals rule. Men who act like women. Here we hearken back to the days of the primitive, virile, important men. Strength through strength. I like that. And I make the rules here.” He looked at Madonette in a singularly repulsive ma

“A fine singer-and a lovely woman,” he said, then looked at me. “Your wife you say? Can anything be done about that? Let me think-yes-something can be done. Out there, in those so-called civilized planets nothing could be done. Here it can. For I am Svinjar – and Svinjar can always do something.”

He lifted one gross hand and tapped me on the forehead. “By my law and my custom I now divorce you.” He heaved himself to his feet while his henchmen roared with laughter at his subtle humor.

“That is not possible. It can’t be done – ”

For his size he was fast, whipping out the broadsword from the niche in his throne.

“Here is my first lesson for my new bride. Nobody says no to Svinjar.”

The blade slashed out to slit my throat.

Chapter 9

I jumped back to avoid the slash, stumbled over a man’s legs, fell on top of him.

“Hold him!” Svinjar shouted and I was grabbed tightly, struggled to get free, couldn’t quite make it.

Svinjar was standing over me, pushing the point of the sword into my throat



Then he toppled sideways and fell with a great thud. Revealing the fact that Steengo, despite age and overweight, had jumped to the attack and was behind him, had dropped him with a chop to the neck.

What was happening had by this time sunk into even the tiniest of the birdbrains present. Men struggled to draw weapons and roared crude oaths. I saw Floyd laying about the warriors nearest him-but it wouldn’t be enough. In about two seconds there was going to be a massacre of musicians if I didn’t do something to stop it.

I did. First by planting my elbow in the solar plexus of my captor. Who gurgled and let go of my arms. One second gone. I didn’t waste any time trying to stand up but writhed on my side and pulled the black sphere from my pocket, thumbed the actuator and threw it up towards the ceiling.

Two seconds. Weapons swinging on all sides. My best defense was to jam the filter plugs into my nostrils. The gas bomb popped and I spent a busy few seconds more dodging my attackers. Who moved more and more slowly until they dropped. When I looked around I saw that the gas had done a great job. The entire great room was filled with prone and snoring forms. I shook my hands over my head.

“Let’s hear it for the good guys!” I had an audience of one, myself, which made the victory no less sweet. The sleep gas had hit my friends as well, though Floyd had been doing quite well before he dropped. A number of crumpled bodies were collapsed around him. I opened my pack and got the gas antidote, one by one I shot up my companions with the styrette. Then went to the door and stared gloomily out at the rain until they revived.

Soft footsteps behind me and Madonette held me lightly by the arms.

“Thanks, Jim.”

“Was nothing.”

“It was something. You saved our lives.”

“We’re still in it,” Floyd said. “And like Madonette said, we owe you a good bit of thanks.” Steengo nodded agreement.

“I wish you didn’t. If this operation had been pla

“That’s not much time,” Steengo said.

“Right-so let’s not waste any of it. Our welcome has worn out around here. Grab weapons because we might have trouble getting out of town empty-handed. Packs on, armed to kill, ruthless and deadly expressions. Forward!”

After what had almost happened to us with Svinjar and his macho swinemen we were in no mood to be trifled with. It must have shown in our faces-or more likely in the metal of our weapons-because the few people we met slipped away as soon as they saw us. The rain had almost stopped and the sun was burning through and raising trails of mist from the waterlogged ground. The hovels were farther apart now, the mounds of garbage fewer and more easily avoided. Straggly little bushes began to appear, then trees and larger shrubs covering the easy slope of the rolling hills. Mixed in were low bushes from which hung hard-ski

“No one seems to be following us-so let’s keep it that way. Five-minute break every hour, keep walking until sunset.”

I touched the skull-computer hanging from my neck and the keyboard snapped into existence. I summoned up the holomap, glanced up at the sun-then pointed ahead.

“We go thataway.”

It was tiring at first, struggling up one hill and down the other side, then up again. But we soon left the trees and the rolling countryside behind and marched out onto a grassy plain. We stopped for a break at the end of the first hour, dropped down and drank some water. The bravest of us chewed industriously on the concentrated rations. Which had the texture of cardboard-if not the same exciting flavor. There was a grove of the polpettone trees close by and I went and picked a few of the spherical fruits. Hard as rocks and looking just about as appetizing. I put them into my pack for later examination. Floyd had dug a small flute out of his pack and played a little jig that lifted our spirits. When we stepped out again it was to a jolly marching tune.

Madonette walked beside me, humming in time with the flute. A strong walker, she seemed to be enjoying the effort. And surely a great singer, good voice. Good everything-and that included her bod. She turned and caught me looking at her and smiled. I looked away, slowed a bit to walk next to Steengo for a change. He was keeping up with the rest of us and did not look tired I was happy to see. Ahh, Madonette… Think of something else, Jim, keep your eye on the job. Not the girl. Yes, I know, she looked a lot better than anything else around. But this was no time to go all smarmy and dewy-eyed.