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"He can't betray the spaceship without endangering himself," argued Reith. "He
is our accomplice; we work in his shed."
"He'd explain it away somehow."
"Perhaps, perhaps not. In any event, you must leave Sivishe. We'll share the
money-then you must go. The sky-car is no more use to me."
Anacho's white face became mulish. "Not so fast, I am not the goal of a
tsaugsh, remember this.
Who will take the initiative to seek me out?"
Reith looked back toward the Glass Cage. "You don't think they'll seek you in
Sivishe?"
"They are unpredictable. But I'm as safe in Sivishe as anywhere else. I can't
go back to the
Ancient Realm. They won't seek me at the shed unless Woudiver betrays the
project."
"Woudiver must be controlled," said Reith.
Anacho only grunted. They set off once more, through the mean alleys of
Sivishe.
The sun passed behind the spires of Hei and dimness seeped into the already
shadowed streets.
Reith and Anacho rode by public powerwagon to the shed. Woudiver's office was
dark; within the shed dim lights glimmered. The mechanics had gone home; there
seemed to be no one on the premises
... In the shadows a figure moved. "Traz!" cried Reith.
The lad came forward. "I knew that you would come here, if you won free."
Neither the nomads nor the Dirdirmen were given to demonstration; Anacho and
Traz merely took note of each other.
"Best that we leave this place," said Traz. "And quickly."
"I said to Anacho, I say to you: take the sky-car and go. There is no reason
for you to risk another day in Sivishe."
"And what about you?"
"I must take my chances here."
"The chances are very small, what with Woudiver and his vindictiveness."
"I will control Woudiver."
"An impossibility!" Anacho cried out. "Who can control such perversity, so
much monstrous passion? He is beyond reason."
Reith nodded somberly. "There is only one certain way, and it may be
difficult."
"How do you intend this miracle?" Anacho demanded.
"I intend simply to take him at gunpoint, and bring him here. If he will not
come, I will kill him. If he comes, he will be my captive, under constant
guard. I can think of nothing better."
Anacho grunted. "I would not object to guarding Big Yellow."
"The time to act is now," said Traz. "Before he knows of the escape."
"For you two, no!" Reith declared. "If I get killed ... too bad but
unavoidable. It is a risk I
have to take. Not so for you. Take the skycar and money, leave now while you
are able!"
"I remain," said Traz.
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"And I as well," said Anacho.
Reith made a gesture of defeat. "Let's go after Woudiver."
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE THREE STOOD in the dark court outside Woudiver's apartments, judging how
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best to open the postern. "We don't dare force the lock," muttered Anacho.
"Woudiver undoubtedly guards himself with alarms and death-traps."
"We'll have to go over the top," said Reith. "It shouldn't be too hard to
reach the roof." He studied the wall, the cracked tile, a twisted old psilla.
"Nothing to it." He pointed. "Up there, across to there-then there and over."
Anacho shook his head gloomily. "I'm surprised to find you still so innocent.
Why do you think the route appears so simple! Because Woudiver is convinced no
one can climb? You'd find strings, traps and jangle-buttons every place you
put your hand."
Reith chewed his lip in mortification. "Well, then, how do you propose we get
in?"
"Not through here," said Anacho. "We must defeat Woudiver's craft with
cleverness of our own."
Traz made a sudden motion, and drew the other two back into the deep shadows
of an area-way.
Along the alley came a shuffle of footsteps. A tall thin shape limped past
them and went to stand by the postern. Traz whispered: "Deine Zarre! He's in a
bitter state."
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