lose your head." He brought out his pulse-emitter and punched but- tons. "Candidly^ I do not like your attitude."
Hillen gave the brim of his hat a twitch. "What do you want to see?"
"I'll start with the work area." Etzwane looked at the other two men; the one bald and somewhat short, with immensely wide shoulders and long, knotted arms, which in some particular seemed twisted or deformed. This man's face was curiously still and composed, as if his thoughts occupied an exalted level. The other man, with the black ringlets and black eyes, was not ill-favored, save for a long, crooked nose, which gave him a devious, dangerous look. Etzwane addressed the two together: "What are your functions?"
Hillen allowed no opportunity for reply. "They are my assistants; I give orders, which they carry out."
As Etzwane confronted the three men, his purposes underwent a change. Shirge Hillen apparently had received advance warning of his coming. If so—from whom, to what effect, and why? First, a precaution. Turning on his heel, Etzwane went to where Casallo lounged beside the Iridixn, studying a blade of saw grass. "Something is very wrong here," said Etzwane. "Take the balloon aloft; don't bring it down unless I signal with my left hand. If I'm not back before sunset, cut your guys and trust to the wind."
Casallo's aplomb was disturbed by not so much as a raised eyebrow. "Certainly; indeed; just as you wish." He turned a glance of supercilious distaste over Etzwane's shoulder. Etzwane swung around to find Hillen standing with his hand close at his dart gun, his mouth twitching. . . . Etzwane took a slow step back, to where he could now hold Casallo in view. In a sudden, frightening dazzle came a new realization: Casallo had been assigned to the Iridixn by officials of the balloon-way. Etzwane could trust no one. He was alone.
Best to maintain the face of trust; Casallo after all might, not be party to the plot. But why had he not warned of Hillen's hand so close to his dart gun? Etzwane said in a voice of calm explication: "Be on your guard; if they kill both of us they'd blame one of the workers, and who could prove otherwise? Get into the balloon."
Casallo slowly obeyed. Etzwane watched him closely and could not read the meaning of Casallo's backward glance. Etzwane signaled the hostler: "Let the balloon go aloft." He waited until the Iridixn floated three hundred yards overhead, then walked back to the three men.
Hillen grunted a few words over each shoulder to his assistants, then faced Etzwane, who halt 'd at a distance of twenty feet. To the younger of the assistants Etzwane said: "Go, if you please, to your office and bring me here the roster of workers, with the record of their indentures."
The young man looked expectantly toward Hillen, who said: "Please address yourself to me; I alone 'give orders to camp personnel."
"I speak with the Anome's voice," said Etzwane. "I give orders as I choose, and I must be obeyed, otherwise heads leave necks." Hillen showed no trepidation. He gestured to his assistant. "Go fetch the records."
Etzwane spoke to the short man. "What are your duties?"
The man looked toward Hillen, his face bland and placid.
Hillen said, "He acts as my bodyguard when I walk among the workers. We deal with desperate men at Camp Three."
"We won't need him," said Etzwane. "Go to the office and stay there until you are summoned."
Hillen made an indifferent gesture; the short man departed.
Hillen and Etzwane waited in silence, until the younger of the assistants returned with a thick gray ledger, which Etzwane took. "You may now return to the office and wait there; we will not need you."
The aide looked questioningly at Hillen, who gave his head a shake and signaled the man to the office. Etzwane watched with suddenly narrowed eyes: the two had betrayed themselves. "Just a moment," he said. "Hillen, why did you shake your head?"
For a moment Hillen was nonplused. He shrugged. "I meant nothing
Hillen gave the brim of his hat a twitch. "What do you want to see?"
"I'll start with the work area." Etzwane looked at the other two men; the one bald and somewhat short, with immensely wide shoulders and long, knotted arms, which in some particular seemed twisted or deformed. This man's face was curiously still and composed, as if his thoughts occupied an exalted level. The other man, with the black ringlets and black eyes, was not ill-favored, save for a long, crooked nose, which gave him a devious, dangerous look. Etzwane addressed the two together: "What are your functions?"
Hillen allowed no opportunity for reply. "They are my assistants; I give orders, which they carry out."
As Etzwane confronted the three men, his purposes underwent a change. Shirge Hillen apparently had received advance warning of his coming. If so—from whom, to what effect, and why? First, a precaution. Turning on his heel, Etzwane went to where Casallo lounged beside the Iridixn, studying a blade of saw grass. "Something is very wrong here," said Etzwane. "Take the balloon aloft; don't bring it down unless I signal with my left hand. If I'm not back before sunset, cut your guys and trust to the wind."
Casallo's aplomb was disturbed by not so much as a raised eyebrow. "Certainly; indeed; just as you wish." He turned a glance of supercilious distaste over Etzwane's shoulder. Etzwane swung around to find Hillen standing with his hand close at his dart gun, his mouth twitching. . . . Etzwane took a slow step back, to where he could now hold Casallo in view. In a sudden, frightening dazzle came a new realization: Casallo had been assigned to the Iridixn by officials of the balloon-way. Etzwane could trust no one. He was alone.
Best to maintain the face of trust; Casallo after all might, not be party to the plot. But why had he not warned of Hillen's hand so close to his dart gun? Etzwane said in a voice of calm explication: "Be on your guard; if they kill both of us they'd blame one of the workers, and who could prove otherwise? Get into the balloon."
Casallo slowly obeyed. Etzwane watched him closely and could not read the meaning of Casallo's backward glance. Etzwane signaled the hostler: "Let the balloon go aloft." He waited until the Iridixn floated three hundred yards overhead, then walked back to the three men.
Hillen grunted a few words over each shoulder to his assistants, then faced Etzwane, who halt 'd at a distance of twenty feet. To the younger of the assistants Etzwane said: "Go, if you please, to your office and bring me here the roster of workers, with the record of their indentures."
The young man looked expectantly toward Hillen, who said: "Please address yourself to me; I alone 'give orders to camp personnel."
"I speak with the Anome's voice," said Etzwane. "I give orders as I choose, and I must be obeyed, otherwise heads leave necks." Hillen showed no trepidation. He gestured to his assistant. "Go fetch the records."
Etzwane spoke to the short man. "What are your duties?"
The man looked toward Hillen, his face bland and placid.
Hillen said, "He acts as my bodyguard when I walk among the workers. We deal with desperate men at Camp Three."
"We won't need him," said Etzwane. "Go to the office and stay there until you are summoned."
Hillen made an indifferent gesture; the short man departed.
Hillen and Etzwane waited in silence, until the younger of the assistants returned with a thick gray ledger, which Etzwane took. "You may now return to the office and wait there; we will not need you."
The aide looked questioningly at Hillen, who gave his head a shake and signaled the man to the office. Etzwane watched with suddenly narrowed eyes: the two had betrayed themselves. "Just a moment," he said. "Hillen, why did you shake your head?"
For a moment Hillen was nonplused. He shrugged. "I meant nothing
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