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Charlot had acquired title, which was more likely, the prospects were a lot
better. We'd hand it over and help him load it up in exchange for a ride out
and - dare I hold out for it?
- a small payment to save time and guarantee exclusive rights.
On the other hand, if the council had not yet handed on their hot potato, they
might be prepared to attach conditions about dealing with outcasts - like for
instance
Charlot would only get the goods if he guaranteed to leave the hellbound in
hell. That possibility would almost certainly lead to trouble.
And, in further complication, there was also the awkward little fact that
Charlot had yet to pay me back for the
Lost Star double-cross. How that was going to affect matters, Charlot alone
could tell.
The outcasts were quite relaxed, considering the importance of the operation.
When Bayon detailed his plans and handed out the jobs, they nodded calmly and
the questions they asked were confined to matters of importance. There was no
sign of doubt or frayed nerves. Nobody was looking for trouble; everybody
would be ready for it if it came. They all gave the appearance of being
strong, capable men. But then, they had been selected by the rigorous process
of survival.
We moved off just as soon as we had finished talking. There was no zero hour
set for dramatic purposes. We got ready, and when we were ready, we went. We
split into groups as men peeled away from the main group in order to adopt
their specific positions
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defending our potential escape route from any surrounding operation mounted by
the enemy.
The eventual assault party was just five strong. There was Bayon, Tob, two men
named Harl and Ezra, and myself. Bayon carried the best of his group's weapons
- their solitary power rifle. It was only about half charged, but you can
cause an awful lot of mayhem with a half charged beam gun. At a reasonable
rate of power-release it could burn a hole through a couple of hundred men, if
they were obliging enough to stand in a straight line so that no power
splashed astray. Tob, Harl and Ezra were all armed with ordinary projectile
weapons. The main advantage of a standard gun over a beamer is range, and so
we were ill-armed for our purposes. The three rifles were by no means
primitive - they were good, efficient pieces of machinery, whose design had
been perfected centuries before. But their presence on Rhapsody was a little
incongruous, let alone their prevalence over the beam guns which the
inhabitants would have found much more functional in the general run of their
affairs. But the people of Rhapsody were far from immune from the small
illogicalities which invariably plague dogmatically maintained cultures. The
Church of the Exclusive Reward had armed itself only to answer the possibility
that they might be called upon to defend their isolation and alienation. They
were not an armed society by, nature. Possibly, they had chosen to employ so
few beamers because the power of such weapons was so immoderate and
ubiquitous.
We made our approach via a network of bleak, difficult passages, which seemed
to bend about themselves tortuously. To my (admittedly uneducated) eye they
did not look to be alveolar vessels at all, but faults caused at some distant
time past by stress within the alveolar architecture. My flashlight had not
yet been exhausted, but I used it very sparingly, saving as much light as I
could for the indeterminate future. Bayon and his men, as was usual, showed no
dislike for the darkness, and moved with ample confidence therein.
Occasionally, though - when it was necessary to avoid deep pits or pass by
loose structures of rock which threatened disaster if disturbed - even Bayon
expressed gratitude for the availability of light. He had his own lanterns, of
course, but he was as jealous of these as I was with the light of my flash.
Conservation was always his first priority. I had to be given frequent help in
the tunnels, but Tob was ever-present and discreet, so that I did not make too
much of a fool of myself.
The worst part of the journey by far was the ascent of a slanting hotshaft
which was only ten or fifteen degrees from the vertical.
Here, fortunately, we had light in plenty - not just from the flash and
Bayon's lamps, but from the walls themselves, where luminous life-forms clung
to the scattered crevices which we used for handholds. Thus not only was our
way lighted but we knew where to reach for with both hands and toes by the
brightness of the light. The climb was rendered practical by virtue of this
coincidence. Without the organisms, the danger of slipping down the shaft
while we manipulated our own lights to our convenience would have been
considerable, and we would probably have had to choose another way to the
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