SO FAR as physical comforts went, Jerry and Junia were pleasantly installed on a pile of cushions in the cabin of Padrath’s swift little boat. The boatman himself sat in the front of the cabin on a saddlelike seat, manipulating the two driving levers which controlled both the speed and direction of the craft. The corpulent, red-faced officer occupied a cushion across from them, and Neem, the black dalf, snoozed at their feet.
Under any other circumstances it would have been pleasant to glide swiftly and smoothly over the placid waters of the canal, leaving a wake of ripples that sparkled in the mellow light of the farther moon.
Presently, some time after the nearer moon had risen, Jerry said: “You are weary, little sister. Close your eyes and sleep.”
“And what of you, big brother?”
“I would watch this strange scenery,” he told her.
“It is no more strange to you than to me, and not a bit less interesting.”
Near midnight, Hazlit Jen brought a pan of charcoal, ignited it with a pinch of fire powder and a splash of water, and brewed pulcho. After passing a cup to the boatman and one to Junia, he filled one for Jerry and handed it to him. But the Earthman noticed that before he picked it up, he held the palm of his hand over it for a moment. Accordingly, he held the cup without tasting it, and then as the officer filled his own cup, said:
“A whim of mine, Hazlit Jen. Among huntsmen it is a custom for good friends to exchange cups.” He pressed the cup into the officer’s left hand and took the one he had poured for himself.
The man’s face grew redder, and he flashed a suspicious look at Jerry.
“To a swift journey and a safe arrival,” said the Earthman.
Having gone this far, Hazlit Jen was forced to raise the cup which Jerry had handed him. But as he slid so, it slipped from his hand.
“Clumsy of me,” he wheezed, catching up the cup and hurling it through the porthole as if his temper had got the better of him. Then he filled another cup.
Shortly thereafter, Hazlit Jen settled back among his cushions and was soon snoring lustily.
“We must get some sleep,” Jerry whispered to Junia, “for a long journey lies ahead of us. You sleep first, and I will watch. Then, when you awaken, I will get some sleep.”
When the Earthman awoke, the sun was at the zenith. And Junia was busily engaged over the charcoal pan, preparing their noon meal. The appetizing odors made Jerry ravenous, and he did full justice to the meal, paying extravagant tribute to the skill of the cook.
They invited Padrath and Hazlit Jen to join them, but both declined, saying that they were not hungry, and would prepare their own food later.
After they had eaten, Jerry and Junia went out on deck where Neem was basking in the sunlight, and fed him the remainder of the anuba steaks. Then they sat down to enjoy the sunshine and the scenery that was slipping past them.
Far below them was the drainage canal, swarming with boats and fishermen. And across the thirteen-mile chasm was the other irrigation canal which watered the opposite terraces, its larger craft plainly visible in the clear air.
At intervals of about two hundred jahuds, cross canals bridged the chasm on tremendous arched structures of metal and stone, connecting the two upper canals and making it possible for boats to cross directly from one to the other without using the slower systems of locks which occurred at equal distances, and connected both with the lower drainage canal.
The sun was low in the west when Padrath turned in to one of these transverse channels and crossed to the irrigation canal on the opposite side.
As they turned into the other canal, the sun set, and night fell suddenly with its blaze of sparkling stars in a black velvet sky, and the pale farther moon preparing to follow the sun beneath the western horizon.
Lights flashed on in the teeming craft that swarmed on the canal, the houses that dotted the terraces, and the watchtowers upon the wall. And Padrath unhooded the baridium torch that lighted the small cabin. The boatman then rose, and turning over the control levers to Hazlit Jen, sauntered out upon the deck, closing the door after him.
For a time he stood looking at the passing towers and stroking his bushy beard. Then he said: “We should make the border of Kalsivar before the farther moon sets. I suppose you two have passports.”
“Why, no, we haven’t,” replied Jerry. “I didn’t know they would be required.”
“They are. But a few platinum pieces will serve as well. I know an officer.”
“How much will it cost?” asked Jerry.
“Five tayzos should be enough.”
“My sister carries our money,” said Jerry. Then he turned to Junia. “Pay the boatman five tay . . . ” he began. But at that instant something descended upon his head with terrific force, felling him to the deck. Fortunately for him, he had coiled the leather lasso inside his head-cloak to conceal it, and this saved him a crushed skull.
Almost as soon as the blow fell, there was a low growl from Neem. Then the big dalf, with a quickness that was surprising in a creature of such great bulk, leaped straight over the fallen Earthman, There was a muffled shriek, and a crunch of shattered bone. Then Padrath fell to the deck with the dalf on top of him, his head crushed like an eggshell.
Jerry sprang dizzily to his feet, and grasping Neem by the collar, pulled him off his fallen assailant. A single glance told him that the boatman was beyond all human aid.
Feeling sure that Hazlit Jen, who had tried a more subtle method of assassination only a few hours before, was in on the plot, Jerry tiptoed to the cabin door and softly opened it. The officer sat at the controls, looking straight out through the front windows and piloting the craft through the canal traffic with undiminished speed.
Jerry quietly closed the door. Then he returned to where the corpse lay, and tearing off a piece of the head-cloak, heaved it into the water. With the fabric he mopped up the blood, then dropped it overboard.
He turned to Junia.
“I am going into the cabin to try to learn the plans of Hazlit Jen,” he said. “First give me five tayzos. I will leave the door open. If you see me raise my hand to my head, rush into the cabin, saying that Padrath has snatched your purse with a thousand tayzos in it, and leaped overboard.”
“But what are you going to do? He may kill you.”
“Have no fear, and trust me,” said Jerry, pressing her hand as she passed him the money. “Is all clear?”
“Yes.”
Jerry went to the cabin door, and opened it noisily. Then he walked in, and toward the front.
“I dislike to trouble an officer with what must seem a most trivial matter,” Jerry began, “yet to a poor hunter a matter of five tayzos is of considerable importance. To me it represents many dangerous hunts, and many trips to the City of Takkor, where the grasping fur merchants pay us less than a tenth of the prices they receive from the tanners in Dukor. I hope that you understand.”
“I understand fully, my poor fellow,” said Hazlit Jen. “Go on.”
“I have not forgotten that you warned me against the cupidity of our boatman,” continued the Earthman. “Just a moment ago he approached me and asked if we had passports. Since we had none, he said he would have to have five tayzos with which to bribe the officials at the border in order that we might pass into Kalsivar. He claimed he was well acquainted with one of the officers, and could arrange everything for us.”
“The amount he mentioned was correct. But if he told you he could arrange things with the officials, he lied. Only I can do that. And it is to me that you must pay the money.”
“Indeed I am glad I consulted you in this matter,” Jerry told him, handing over the five platinum pellets with a look of relief.
The officer dropped the money into his belt pouch. “Leave everything to me, and you will be safe and sound in Raliad before sunup.”
Jerry raised his hand, as if to adjust his head-cloak. This movement was followed by a most convincing scream from Junia. Then she rushed into the cabin.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” asked Hazlit jen, paling.
“The boatman!” she panted. “He snatched my purse and leaped overboard. Our life savings—our thousand tayzos—are gone with him.”
Jerry sprang to his feet, simulating anger, but the anger of the red-faced officer was not simulated. Moving both levers back to neutral, he turned and asked: “Where is the scoundrel?”
“He must be on shore, and well away with the loot by this time,” said Junia.
Hazlit Jen plunged across the cabin, through the door, and out upon the deck. Jerking his baridium torch from his belt, he flashed it over the placid waters.
“Gone!” he wheezed angrily. “Gone with a thousand platinum tayzos! Oh, the blackguard!”
“After all,” said Jerry dryly, “there are more platinum pieces where those came from. The fool has only cheated himself.”
“Eh? What do you mean?”
“Since the low-born villain has decamped, there is no reason why two officers and gentlemen should not be perfectly frank with each other,” said Jerry in a confidential tone. “Let us drop all pretense. I realized that you had recognized Her Highness, from the start. What you have evidently not realized is that I am in the employ of His Majesty, Thoor Vil. Of course she doesn’t know that. And I thought it best not to tell her until we arrive. She might offer absurd objections, or attempt to escape.”
“Quite right,” said Hazlit. “But what of the reward?”
“I’ll split it with you” Jerry told him. “I had intended dividing with you and the boatman. But since he took the purse, there remain larger portions for both of us. It is he who is the greatest loser.”
“Why, so he is,” said the officer. He was still holding his baridium torch, unhooded, and the rays were shining on the deck. For a moment, the little piglike eyes paused and widened at sight of a small, red splotch.
Jerry saw it too, and quickly looked up to see if the jen had noticed it. But the officer looked away unconcernedly.
“Let the fool boatman go with his ill-gotten gains,” he said. “We will have ten thousand tayzos to divide between us.”
He hooded his baridium torch, and replacing it in his belt, started toward the cabin.
During this conversation, the boat had been drifting slowly forward under its own momentum, the driving mechanism having been set at neutral.
“We are almost at the Kalsivar border,” said Hazlit Jen, resuming his seat between the two control levers. “You two had best remain in the cabin. I will dock the boat and attend to interviewing the officers, alone.”
He pushed both levers forward a little way. A cunning look came into his eyes as he smoothly guided the boat up to the international dock. He drew the levers back to neutral, and stood up.
“Await me here,” he said, “and leave everything to me. I won’t be long.”