Part 18 (1/2)
”They're stupid,” Vye said.
”Not stupid, just geared to one set of actions,” Hume returned.
”Which could mean that what sends them here can't change its orders.”
”Good guess. I'd say that they were governed by something akin to our tapes. No provision made for any innovations.”
”So the guiding intelligence could be long gone.”
”I think it has been.” Hume then changed the subject sharply.
”How did you get into service at the Starfall?”
It was hard now to think back to Nahuatl--as if the Vye Lansor who had been swamper in that den of the port town was a different person altogether. In that patch of memories into which Rynch Brodie still intruded he hunted for the proper answer.
”I couldn't hold the state jobs. And once you get the habit of eating, you don't starve willingly.”
”Why not the state jobs?”
”Without premium they're all low-rung tenders' places. I tried hard enough. But to sit pressing b.u.t.tons when a light flashed, hour after hour--” Vye shook his head. ”They said I was too erratic and gave me the shove. One more move on and it would have been compulsive conditioning. I turned port-drift instead.”
”Ever thought of trying for a loan premium?”
Vye laughed shortly. ”Loan premium? That's a true fantasy if you've been job hopping. None of the companies will take a chance on a man with an in and out record. Oh, I tried....” That memory arose to the surface, clear and very chilling. Yes, he had tried to break out of the net the law and custom had put around him from the day he had been made a state child. ”No--it was conditioning, or port-drift.”
”And you chose port-drift?”
”I was still me--as long as I stayed away from conditioning.”
”Then you became Rynch Brodie in spite of your flight.”
”No--well, maybe, for a while. But I'm still Vye Lansor here.”
”Yes, here. And I don't think you'll have to worry about raising a premium to get a new start. You can claim victim compensation, you know.”
Vye was silent, but Hume did not let him remain so.
”When the Patrol arrives, you put in your claim. I'll back you.”
”You can't.”
”That's where you're mistaken,” Hume told him crisply. ”I've already taped a full story back at the s.p.a.cer--it's on record now.”
Vye frowned. The Hunter seemed determined to ask for the worst the Patrol--or the planet police back on Nahuatl--could deal out. A case of illegal conditioning was about as serious as you could get.
They shot along the diagonal of the triangle made by three points, the mountain valley, Wa.s.s' camp, and the safari headquarters, heading to the slopes up which the men must be herded if the beasts were shepherding them to the mountain valley. Vye, surveying the forest thick below, began to doubt they would ever be able to pick them up before they reached the valley gate.
Hume took a weaving course, zigzagging back and forth, while they both watched intently for a glint from one of the globes, any movement which would betray that trail. And it was on one of the upper slopes that the flitter pa.s.sed over two of the blue beasts lumbering along.
Neither of the creatures paid any attention to the flyer, they moved with purpose on some mission of their own.