CHAPTER III

SIGHTINGS IN THE DARK




"Marshall Lauren," Trajan said, "shine and good health to
you, you surly wisur bull!"

Jefroy sprang to his feet from the stool facing the monitor.
"Captain Schurell, welcome to the new Rescue Base of Myaron.
Shine to you, you wild hornsteed!" They steepened fingers as
old friends and broke into laughter.

"How long has it been?" Jefroy enquired.

"Fifteen seasons and four cextra to be exact," Trajan said
and clapped the Marshall on the shoulder. He and Jefroy went
to training together in the early days of their career, to
enter the coveted ranks of the elite force guarding the
spatial borders of Iucari-Tres. He was convinced then that
Jefroy would make one of the staunchest and finest
commanders of the Interplanetary Spacio Command. In the
final stages, however, Jefroy changed his mind. It appeared
that rescuing rather than slaying, even for the sake of
defending Iucari-Tres, was more attuned to his nature.
Trajan was loath to see him leave the ISC since he had
looked forward to working closely together; Jefroy’s gruff
humour would have been a vital element in days of danger.
They had kept close contact during the span of time and
their friendship had remained strong. Adilar subsequently
joining the Rescue Force had even more strengthened their
mutual bond.

Jefroy questioned, "Why has Chief Guillen kept you so long
on asteroid patrol?" His eyes gleaming with mirth, he went
further: "Unless it is to discipline you!"

Trajan scratched his ear: "Well, nothing that juvenile."

"Tell me! Tell me your misdemeanour!"

"Closer to the truth it was more and more hard training. I
will share with you the latest gossip, but right now it’s
hardly the time for jokes."

"All right. What can I do for you, sir?"

Jefroy’s face turned grave when Trajan told him what the
first objective would be for the day. "There is a
complication," he said in a cautious voice and he told
Trajan the reason of his concern.

"They moved Adilar to the house of Ricar Myar!" Trajan burst
out, "Who would do a stupid thing like that. Brother Dear is
hardly well."

"Now, now," Jefroy said, "he has become well and restless
enough to prance about the Sanatorium while he should be
resting. And his aunt, the Dowager of Ayrie, thought it
better to bring him in tow in Myar Hall, where she could
personally tend to him day and night. She has become very
fond of him, you know."

"Ah yes, the formidable Dama Clarya," Trajan murmured and
continued in a low voice, "I want Adilar out of there, and
out of Myaron completely. Any ideas how we could accomplish
that without anybody knowing it?

"A dilemma." Jefroy nodded. "We certainly need a few
accomplices and I know the ideal persons for that sort of
job." He coded a message to Science Steward Lamidor at the
same time as he bent over his workbench and scribbled a note
to Lar Rylan Wryn.

* * *

As soon as he received Marshall Lauren’s word, Rylan without
further ado put all things aside and sprinted out of his
grand new home. He was labouring under an irritable mood
since the day the Dowager had ever so commandingly moved her
young grandnephew to the confines of Myar Hall and barred
all visitors for the sake of his continued well-being. Rylan
had been cursing his lapse of mind ever since, why his
immaculate person had missed out on the notion completely
that there were better places than the drab-looking
Sanatorium. He would have opened all doors of Wryn Manor to
welcome his best friend as a recuperating patient.

‘I hope the Marshall has important news to tell or I will
personally break down the doors of Myar Hall.’

Through the blue foliage of the pollardula trees, the
encampment in the fields, still serving as the Force’s
temporary primary station, glimmered into view. Its
surroundings looked deceptively quiet and deserted, but
Rylan quickly observed that the officers of the Force were
not at all sitting idle. Some of them were busily at work in
the nearby tents and improvised spitsoar hangar. The moment
he stepped into the barn, which had unofficially been
designated as the Air Marshall’s headquarters, three
officers turned round from the holograph they were studying.

Rylan stood still and for a moment forgot to breathe as the
officer standing in the middle examined him with keen
interest. As if from a far distance, he heard Jefroy’s voice
introducing him in a teasing voice: "This is the young Lar
Rylan I have mentioned to you. Rylan, my boy, how good of
you to come so speedily. Come and meet Adilar’s brother,
Captain Trajan Schurell of the Spacio Command. Correct me if
I presume you two have not met before."

Trajan smiled. "Unfortunately that is correct, but I have
heard a lot of remarkable things about you, Lar Rylan."

Slowly Rylan found his voice back. "I didn’t know Adilar has
a brother," he stuttered, "he--he never told me."

"That’s why you are here for," Lamidor grinned, "to have the
privilege of sharing the dark secrets of the House of
Schurell. I was only told minutes ago."

"Adilar was about to tell you, Rylan," Trajan said, "when he
invited you to spend a few days at Ferngarthen, since he
knew I was coming home soon. But talking of sharing, I think
we’d better let Rylan in on the secret of our little
conspiracy. I want everything arranged before darkness
falls."

They stood around the workbench while Trajan set out his
plan of operation, and as Jefroy and Lamidor listened to
him, Rylan, flushed by the prospect of imminent adventure,
stood by breathlessly and hooked on to every word that was
said.

"First of all," said Trajan, "we have to think of a way of
taking Adilar out of Myar Hall and back to the Sanatorium,
because from there we could easily make it through the
fields to the barn where a spitsoar will be ready and
waiting. We need someone associated with the Sanatorium who
can bring Adilar back, presumably for further physical
examination."

"I can possibly make a suggestion to Director Milraus,"
Lamidor hinted.

"Director Milraus? Can he be trusted? I don’t want any more
persons joining our little scheme, unless it is absolutely
necessary."

"In my honest opinion," Jefroy suggested, "it is wiser to
leave Milraus out of it. He has too many connections with
the local community, although you may know him better than
we do, Fredric."

Trajan gazed at Lamidor sharply. "You know Milraus?"

Lamidor stared at him uncertainly. "Well, not really, which
means I don’t know him enough personally. He used to be a
friend of my parents when they resided in Castelmoer before
they were transferred to Evening Star."

"Castelmoer?" Trajan pondered for a moment. "Very
intriguing. I shall have to come back to Milraus later, but
for the moment, Marshall Lauren, since you’ve voiced the
objection, do you have any other options?"

"Of course I do!" Jefroy snorted, "Adilar is still under my
command, isn’t he? And I simply have to order him to go to
the Sanatorium for a physical check-up this evening. Fredric
will be on hand to see everything goes as planned. How’s
that?"

Trajan shook his head. "Truly amazing, Marshall. What will I
do without you?"

Time was pressing and going through all the details one more
time Trajan accepted the present scheme was the most
reasonable which they could carry out with success and
without making too much noise. "By the way," he said,
stifling a yawn, "have any of you seen Leoynar Trevarthen?"

Fredric and Rylan exchanged brief glances. "He was in town
only yesterday," Fredric answered, "but it seems he has left
again."

Trajan raised his eyebrows. "Did he?"

"He was walking towards the Byrull Palace when I last saw
him," Fredric said, "presumably to pay a visit. They were
waiting for him at Myar Hall for dinner but then they
received word that he had left on the Express."

Trajan frowned and seemed lost in thought. The next moment
he asked both Fredric and Rylan in a flighty manner as if he
were inviting them to go on a pleasure trip. "Say, can any
of you two handle weapons?"

Rylan shook his head in a vacant manner, suddenly
appreciating the fact that Trajan was concealing a rephar
under his jacket.

Fredric smiled wickedly: "I can, that is to say in my
younger days at the ISC Academy."

"Another dropout?" Trajan enquired with mild sarcasm.

"Let’s say that the study of pure science interests me far
more than the mechanism of combining science with battle
gear."

"I suppose that you were in the Academy long enough to know
how to handle a rephar. I have a spare that I will give to
you, Fredric. Tonight, as soon as you see that the spitsoar
has departed, come back here, and you too, Lar Rylan. I will
give further instructions then. Needless to say, what has
been said among us here is classified information. Any
questions?"

Although Rylan was bewildered he followed the others’ lead
and pretended he had a good grasp of the situation. He
subsequently left together with Lamidor in great hurry for
the Sanatorium; a number of pressing arrangements had to be
made before dark.

In the quietness of the barn, Jefroy enquired, "Is there
something wrong, Trajan?"

"I am afraid there is. Leoynar Trevarthen was not supposed
to go away but wait until I contact him, but he has left
Myaron, so they say. This is not right."

"Do you mean he is still here?"

"Yes, I am absolutely certain he is still here and that
makes it even worse. Why hasn’t he come out? Something must
have happened. I told him to stay out of the firing line!"

"What can we do?" Jeffrey asked helplessly.

Trajan shook his head wearily. "Nothing. There is nothing we
can do now. We will have to wait until dark. I have to
inspect the area first of all, and rather than have a whole
army of commanders descend upon the place, which I am not
allowed to do anyway without the permission of the Lar
Protector of Myaron, I have to temporarily avail myself of
Fredric and Rylan to aid me as surreptitiously as possible
in my mission tonight."

"First of all," Jefroy said resolutely, "you must lie down
and rest. My good friend, you are hovering on the verge of
exhaustion with no sleep for two days. How can you possibly
go on!"

"Jefroy," Trajan said and he thoughtfully gazed through the
open door, dwelling on the peace of green, lusty meadows.
"It seems so selfish that with so many other lives at stake,
I can only think of Adilar’s safety without giving others
the same consideration. To tell you the truth, I’m doing
this on Chief Guillen’s personal directive and I
wholeheartedly agree. I feel it in my guts we cannot afford
to have the two of us at the same place where something is
to happen soon. I cannot command a mission with the constant
fear that Adilar can be used against me."

"I understand, Trajan," Jefroy said warmly, "I do so wish I
could stay and give you a helping hand."

"No, stay out of it while you can. I cannot predict how
things will turn out, but I fear it’s going to turn out very
ugly indeed. Go to Verimur and wait. Remember, what you are
doing will not be less important what we are trying to
achieve in Myaron, because if we fail, you, Adilar and the
others will have to return and continue where we have left
off."

"It is time for rest," Jefroy urged. "Take my bunk while I
make the necessary preparations for tonight’s flight.
Please, Trajan, do as I tell you. I’ll wake you up when the
time is there."

"You are right as always," Trajan pulled off his jacket and
retreated to the corner of Jefroy’s bunk bed. Lying down he
drifted into an uneasy sleep, with his rephar tucked under
his armpit.

* * *

Adilar struggled with the resentful feeling of being bandied
around like an article. Initially the journey from
Frairimont to the Sanatorium in Myarvil, thence to Myar Hall
and presently back at the Sanatorium again. He was feeling
stronger by the day, fuelling his restlessness to such
proportions that, were he less courteous, he would rip open
the doors of his confinement and walk out on the streets.
However well intended, the stringent precautions bruised his
pride. At Myar Hall they had made him a prisoner of luxury
and comfort. They brought him back to the Sanatorium
unexpectedly this afternoon for another round of physical
examinations. It was a brief respite but not the kind he had
hoped for: he wanted to be free and out into the open air,
he wanted to be with his unit.

Impatiently he flung aside the Vision-Net he was
purposelessly watching and swung his legs over the bedside.
He was indeed on the mend; sudden bodily movements no longer
struck him with dizziness. He strode to the open window for
a brief look at the glorious world outside. As he was
turning round, a quiet knock sounded on the door.

"Aunt Clarya and her little inspections," he muttered. He
took a deep breath to keep his voice under control and
called out with feigned civility: "Come in."

"How is the patient?" asked Trajan entering on tiptoe and
closing the door behind him.

Adilar jumped forward and exclaimed: "Trajan!" He smiled. "I
had an inkling you were around somewhere. Your Oracles have
been tickling me in my sleep."

Trajan smiled back, clasping Adilar by the shoulders and
observing him attentively. "You look far better than I’ve
expected. In fact, you look tremendous. No broken bones,
fractures, no headaches? Splendid! You are as good as new
and fit enough for a long journey."

Adilar faltered: "Am I going to be transferred, again?"

"You are going away, this very night. Jefroy has made
everything ready and he will fly you out in exactly ten
minutes from now. I have brought you your uniform. You can
wear it as your disguise, so to speak."

Adilar stripped off the Sanatorium’s apparel and dressed
while Trajan stood by the door listening. "How do you
propose getting me out of here without being seen?"

"Rest assured, this room on the far side of the building was
assigned to you on purpose by Fredric, near a side entrance
that will be unlocked for this night only."

As soon as Trajan had spoken, someone on the outside hallway
knocked on the door. The two of them stared at each other.
‘Who can that be?’ Trajan’s eyes were asking. Adilar
whispered: "It is aunt Clarya for sure on her regular
rounds."

"Too bad," Trajan remarked. He signalled to Adilar, now
fully clothed, to go back into bed and to pull the blanket
up to his chin. He pulled the door open, hiding behind it.

The Dowager strode in holding a small tray. "Are you asleep,
Adilar? What--"

She gasped, choking back the remainder of her words, when
behind her Trajan closed the door. Adilar threw the blanket
away and reached for the tray, which she would have dropped.
Her shock augmented ten-fold when she saw Adilar in his
uniform, as if ready to go on duty again. Whirling round she
addressed Trajan: "Who are you? What do you want?" Once
more, she stood speechless, her eyes flitting from one to
the other. The truth suddenly hit her with such staggering
force that she uttered a low cry, clasping her mouth with
her hand.

"By the HeliÆ Equation of Iucari-Tres," she whispered
hoarsely, "you are related to each other--brothers?"

"Yes," Adilar said, edging forward to stand at Trajan’s
side, "this is Trajan, my brother."

Speechless Lady Clarya looked at them; they resembled each
other, yet were different in so many details: the nuances
were too numerous to dwell upon in one single study.

"Adilar," Trajan urged, "it is time to go."

At once the Dowager shook off her inertia and pleaded: "You
cannot go, Adilar. You are not fully recovered yet. Please
stay."

Trajan taking Adilar’s arm gently pushed him towards the
door: "Hurry Adilar, time is running out. Turn left down the
corridor and then right where the side entrance is leading
to the open fields. Go straight to the barn. Wait for me
there."

Adilar nodded and slightly turning to the Dowager he sadly
said: "I have to go, aunt Clarya. Believe me, I am in safe
hands. It is farewell for now but we will see each other
again soon, I am sure of that."

"You cannot leave like that, Adilar!" the Dowager said
indignantly. "I cannot let you go."

She made a frantic movement to follow him but Trajan swiftly
stepped in front of her. "Don’t do that, my Dama," he
quietly warned, "if you prevent Adilar from leaving, you
will live to regret it. He is going to a far safer place
than this will be. Take my word for it. Stay here and don’t
try to leave this room until someone tells you."

Before the Dowager could utter a further word, he stepped
out of the room and closing the door behind him he summoned
Fredric on his communicator. Within seconds Fredric appeared
in the corridor.

"Problems?"

"I hit a bit of snag. My all too caring great-aunt has poked
her nose into our little scheme."

With wide eyes Lamidor enquired: "What are you going to do
now?"

"For fifteen minutes guard this door and don’t let her out.
After that, she is free to go but obviously she wants
explanations and, I think this is the hardest part, try to
convince her not to spread the good news of Adilar’s
departure and my being here too much, will you?"

"Easier said than done," Lamidor said, grinning
mischievously, "but I’ll try to be persuasive."

"I trust your eloquence," said Trajan grinning back, "see
you at the barn in fifteen minutes."

He hurried down the corridor and through the narrow exit
onto the country road and into the fields. The evening
twilight was deepening rapidly and he broke into a run. Near
the barn the engines of the spitsoar had already been
started up and its gentle humming was all that could be
heard in the sultry stillness of a Myaronite night.

Adilar already stood there with Jefroy and Trajan pulled him
aside. They looked into each other’s eyes as Trajan
instructed him in an emphatic voice: "Listen to me Adilar.
As soon as you are up in the air, you must make no contact
with me. This is Chief Guillen’s personal order to both you
and me. Jefroy will stay with mother, grandfather and you at
Ferngarthen and he will communicate solely with Chief
Guillen. Stay together at all times and whatever tidings you
may learn about Myaron, do not, I repeat, do not come back
until the Command says so. Understood?"

Adilar managed to remain calm but his face was pale and
drawn. "What is going to happen?"

"Honestly, I don’t know. I am here to find out but I fear
the worst."

"Does it all have to do with Glynmoran’s death?"

"Yes, most probably and by going into your mind I also know
what he told you in his last moments."

"Poor Glynmoran!"

"Speak no more of it. You have survived and you have to be
on your way this very minute." They briefly embraced. "Good
luck, safe journey. Tell Mothy and grandfather not to
worry."

Trajan stood and watched the spitsoar diminish into a fiery
speck in the dark purple sky. He was still watching how dusk
turn into night with his hands in his pockets, leaning with
his back against the barn, when two figures straggled out of
the darkness.

"Well?" he demanded of Fredric who was the first one coming
closer.

Fredric wheezed: "That was quite a tight spot you got me
into, Captain Schurell! The Dama was upset and besides
bristling like a mad wolfer. She wanted to call in the
videts and raise a hue and cry about Adilar’s presumed
abduction while I not so gently reminded her that your
eminence here, looking so smugly sure, is a member himself
of the security authorities. You cannot accuse one of our
venerated commanders to abduct a rescuer, can you? In short,
it has taken more than charm and persuasiveness to cool her
down. Call it veiled threats if you like! But in the end she
allowed me to escort her back to Myar Hall. Certainly, she
will not be able to spread this weird business around until
morning, but you can be sure as fate that Lukus Stratken and
Ricar Myar will be let in on her incident tonight."

Rylan chuckled behind his back: "Lar oh Lar, you can also be
sure that tonight the feathers will be flying in Myar Hall."

Trajan remarked: "We have managed to whisk Adilar away and
that is what counts at this moment. Come inside."

In the barn he introduced Fredric and Rylan to one of
Jefroy’s adjutants, Lieutenant Darien.

"Lieutenant Darien," Trajan told Rylan, "will instruct you
on the equipment we will be using on our scouting
expedition, the range-scanner, the multilyzer and the sensor
stylets."

Observing Rylan’s puzzled expression Lamidor advised with a
quasi-stern face: "The Command has found you absolutely
trustworthy and has graciously permitted that you accompany
us on a surveillance of the area tonight and with us I mean
the Captain of course, Lieutenant Darien here and me."

"I am flattered," said Rylan feeling alternately nervous and
thrilled, "but as I have told you already, I am not trained
as a science steward or a commander, let alone a rescuer. I
doubt whether I can be of any real help other than to trail
along, as weapon carrier or guide?"

The other three smiled at each other and Trajan lectured:
"You are selling yourself far too short, Lar Rylan but you
have assumed right in one respect. As a native of Myaron
born and bred, you have the best knowledge of the place
among the four of us. You know every nook and cranny, the
ideal person to act as our guide, don’t you think? What’s
more, there is a special reason why I want you to join us on
this trip, since the place we are going to survey tonight is
your stepfather’s domain and his airstrip."

Rylan’s mouth flew open but he clammed up immediately. At an
indication from the slim lieutenant with her sparkling
violet on green eyes, he followed her out of the shed
tingling with suppressed excitement.

Lamidor turned to Trajan. "The oddest thing is that while
I’ve been here I have been unable to record turbulences in
the area, not one iota, seismic or otherwise. If Myaron is
the centre of the imbalance, then that centre has been quiet
and peaceful recently."

"It is too quiet," Trajan said, "Going back to our previous
conversation, there was not enough time to thoroughly check
on Director Milraus and any information you know about him
might be helpful."

"I only know he is native to the Principality of
Castelmoer."

"Castelmoer with the biggest Centre of Computer Studies,"
Trajan said while he keyed his palm-held microcom,
"neighbours on Ermizgarth which is notably a physicists’
community. It was primarily on the insistence of Director
Milraus that Adilar was transferred to Myarvil Sanatorium.
Milraus is a friend of Councillor Sharys who is native to
Castelmoer as well. Both of them are close friends with Dama
Clarya who is the only person I am not allowed to verify. I
am instructed by the Command to take her into my confidence,
something I don’t look forward to."

Trajan then told Fredric about the event in Frairimont two
nights ago. Fredric said horrified: "How have they breached
our barriers? You, commanders, who are patrolling the
asteroid borders, you have not encountered any signs of a
full-scale invasion, have you?"

"The borders are still safe. Nevertheless the individual who
fell from the roof is an outworlder. Even without an autopsy
we could see it clearly: he lacked our spinal membranes."

"How could such creatures have entered our realm? Through
what gateway? What do they want? Have our barriers weakened
since that White Radiation blast on Aberon?"

"I don’t know whether we can establish a link between that
catastrophic radiation explosion and the recent peril. The
Stewardship is still working on a viable hypothesis. But I
am convinced we will find the answer here in Myaron."

The time had gradually ticked into late night. As Rylan and
Lieutenant Darien rejoined them, Trajan supplied Fredric
with a spare rephar and multilyzer, the other two were
furnished with sensor stylets and a range-scanner. He hooked
the last range-scanner onto his left ear.

The night was warm with rags of clouds straggling an
uncertain sky. Rylan briskly walked at the head, leading the
little group across a stretch of heath towards the airstrip,
which was the first destination of their reconnaissance. He
waved with a cautioning hand when they approached its
vicinity at the same moment as Trajan felt his stylet twitch
in his fingers.

Trajan quickly laid a hand on Rylan’s arm. "Careful," he
warned, "there is a stingfield in front of you." Rylan
pointed to a mound thirty steps to their right. Trajan
nodded making signs for them to crouch low and advance
behind the line of bushes bordering the airstrip. Reaching
the summit of the mound, they sprawled on their stomachs
behind a camouflage of briar weed. Trajan adjusted the Juxta
Radius of his range-scanner. After a brief inspection
through a gap in the shrub wood, he unhooked the scanner and
handed it to Fredric who made the same short survey of the
area.

"Do you notice those guards near the cargo shuttle?"

"Twenty strong, I would say. They carry arms, Trajan. I’ve
never seen such heavy weaponry before. In the HeliÆ’s name,
what are they guarding?"

Trajan replied vacantly: "The secrets dwelling in Hern
Byrull’s palace."

Lieutenant Darien hissed at his side: "What banality! There
are children over there, near that hangar. They are using
children as labourers!"

Trajan furiously snatched away the range-scanner from
Fredric’s hand. After moments of intense scrutiny he said in
a flat voice: "Those are not children. Sharpen the Minute
Degree of your scanner. They are full-grown people like you
and me."

Fredric grabbed back the range-scanner. His voice was heavy
with stupefaction: "By the stars, I have not seen anything
like it! I have never seen short arms and legs like those!
Standing on their toes, they would not even be able to reach
my chest."

"Lieutenant, my turn please," Rylan persuaded with
controlled politeness and Lieutenant Darien thrust into his
eager hands the popular range-scanner. "Look," he whispered,
fumbling around with the degree dials of the range-scanner,
"they are using whips on those poor children-size
unfortunates, as if they were herds of wild Calidan wisurs!"

Trajan whispered urgently: "We have seen enough. Come away."

"What next?" asked Fredric.

"Next, we visit the ruins of the old castle."

Rylan cautioned: "It would be much safer to approach the old
castle from the town road. We have to retrack our steps to
Myarvil."

Swiftly following his lead they crept down the slopes of the
mound and still bending low they cut across the heath until
they came upon the first fringe of the flat-top villas of
Myarvil. They stopped near a hedge of pollardulas to catch
their breath.

Lieutenant Darien hotly contested the scene she had just
seen with her own eyes. "It cannot be true! I cannot believe
it." She stamped her foot angrily on the ground. "I still
cannot believe that such a despicable thing is happening in
our midst. What are those people doing there?"

Rylan proffered his opinion with his nose stuck wisely in
the air: "I have always mistrusted Hern Byrull but even I
wouldn’t have suspected him of sinking so low, until now.
Forcing creatures to labour in deep night with whips and
weapons pointed at them. I thought weapons were meant solely
for defence!"

Trajan and Fredric stared at each other without speaking.
Both of them have been hardened in their work to face the
perils of nature but never had they witnessed what they had
seen minutes ago, which foreboded dangers of unknown
magnitude and alien character. It threatened the morals, the
structure of the life they knew. While the others bristled
and exchanged words of indignation, Fredric asked softly:
"Trajan, what do we have to do?"

Trajan heaved a sigh. "This is no job for a young Lar or a
rescuer, not even for a science steward. I am now justified
to call in reinforcements."

Fredric continued in the same soft but now determined voice:
"I want to be fully involved. I can no longer sit on the
sidelines while our society is being threatened. Don’t
forget, I have been trained as a commander before my fancy
took a different turn. I am still able to handle weapons."

"I will bear you in mind, I promise, but we still have one
thing to do tonight. There is still the old castle to
explore."

Trajan signalled to Rylan and Lieutenant Darien to hit the
road again. The four of them crept through the darkened main
street of Myarvil like emissaries bearing terrible
knowledge. Painstakingly they kept themselves in the
shadows, shrinking away out of sight by the faintest sign of
a presence. There was none, the members of the scientific
community of Myaron were all peacefully plotting staggering
inventions in their dreams, oblivious of the dark plot being
perpetrated right on their doorstep.

It was only when they reached the outskirts of Myarvil that
they dared to breathe a little easier and Rylan said: "Did
you notice that there were about twenty men, armed to the
teeth? Together with the little labourers they employed,
there must have been about fifty of them. Where did they
come from? Where could they hide in broad daylight without
any of us here noticing their presence?"

Lieutenant Darien suggested: "They could have been brought
here only recently. I did notice that in the past day or two
the airstrip seemed to have more than its usual share of
shuttle traffic."

"Yes," Fredric said, "and so has the rest of Myaron, but
it’s the general opinion it has something to do with the
grand festivity Councillor Byrull is organizing."

Trajan stopped dead in his tracks. "A festivity?" he said
sharply. "When?"

"Hum," answered Rylan, not sure why a Byrull festivity could
have such great significance, "Tomorrow, tomorrow evening,
at the rising of Evening Star to be exact."

It was Trajan’s turn to quiver, fume with wrath and kick the
ground. "Tomorrow! This leaves us very, very little time
indeed. They are moving faster than we have anticipated!"

Three pairs of frightened eyes glared at him and almost as
one voice they chorused:
"What will happen at the festivity!"

Trajan’s anger at once evaporated and he stood limply
groping for the right answer. He had not one shred of hard
and irrefutable proof. Most of the time he had to rely on
his instinct. That instinct had been rubbing in ever since
he had set foot on Phylee-Patre that a storm of destructive
proportions was gathering in the midst of their happy
society, and most of Iucari-Tres stood unprepared to counter
and weather the approaching disaster. His response was short
and hopeless: "I wish I knew."

Fredric said in an agitated voice: "Let’s go back to the
first problem we were asking ourselves. Those strangers at
the Byrull place. Where would they hide during the day?
Don’t tell me they could make themselves invisible into the
bargain. That is a horrible thought!"

Rylan’s mouth twisted in a wry grin although he could not
find the situation at all amusing: "Dear Science Steward,
before you go on with your horror stories and frighten all
of us out of our wits, let me ask this question. Those
intruders must have come from somewhere. How have they
entered Myaron? In this quiet isolated place strangers would
stick out from the locals like weeds. In my opinion as a
sane Iucarian, at least a whole convoy of shuttles is needed
to ship them to this place, not the occasional one or two as
we have witnessed. If we are being invaded, from where has
the invasion started?"

"That’s the stuff, Rylan," Trajan said, "you are learning
fast, and so do we all have to. We have entered an era of
uncertainty. We have to learn to bend our minds and skills
to meet each provocation as it comes. Having said that, you
have probably guessed that I cannot answer your question,
but to a certain extent I can answer Fredric’s."

They had left the slumbering contortions of Myarvil far
behind their backs. From where they stood on the country
road, the white marble palace of Councillor Byrull, a softly
glowing bas-relief projecting from the night skyline, loomed
diagonally opposite them at the far right. Trajan pointed
out to them the three landmarks forming one straight
geometrical line.

Fredric whistled between his teeth. "The manor, the airstrip
and--"

"The old castle," Rylan broke in, "I am beginning to
understand. It’s the perfect hiding-place. That ancient
place, ignored because of its age and shunned because of
treacherous bogs in the vicinity."

"I suppose you know the area well enough."

"Well enough to take you right up to where the front gate
once stood."

Trajan waved an inviting gesture. "Lead on, scout."

Briskly Rylan led the party off the road back into fields
and onto a trail of rough flagstones first sloping towards
the river shores, then suddenly canting left and zigzagging
deeper into marshland where the reeds almost reached up to
their heads and swamp water washed over the stones with
black-green swills. The river flowed on their distant right
and as the path climbed up to a low hummock, they could see
the Nheim weaving a passage of foam and glitter through the
heart of the land. In the stillness of the night the surge
and roll of the waves were swept up by the wind and spread
along riverbanks and grasslands, lulling creatures into
false dreams of restfulness while the Nheim waited and
listened in hypnotic absorption to its own mighty voice.

The trail dipped and branched off away into wilder reed
lands but Rylan held on to the main step stone path as he
guided the little group around patches of gurgling bogs and
holes of dark stagnant water. At length they felt the path
slowly rising and the ground hardening beneath their feet.
The tall reeds gave way to a smattering of trees and the
ground steadily climbed until they reached a narrow pass
that cut through the hillocks. Beyond that pass, the peaks
of the old castle stretched out like gaunt finger bones
clawing at the night sky.

Rylan halted with a start as his sensor stylet jumped like a
live wire in his hand. Lamidor held up a warning finger and
took the multilyzer out of his pocket. The multilyzer guided
Lamidor in mere seconds to a device, hidden beneath dry
leaves and twigs, which had the appearance of a detector
disc. With his forefinger he carefully dislodged a thin wire
from under the cover of the soil. The sensor stylet in his
left hand sparked with delirious madness.

"What have we here?" Trajan whispered.

"Obviously they are taking no chances," Fredric whispered
back, "the whole place must be sting-wired."

"What do we do next?" Lieutenant Darien wanted to know.

Trajan was in a quandary and he told his companions as such.
He could easily put the whole warning system out of action
so that they could continue their surveillance. Immobilizing
the system would also mean forewarning the enemy. The risk
of exposing their presence to the enemy was something Trajan
was not tempted to take; his task was to drive the enemy
into the open.

"Is there another way of entering the castle grounds?" he
asked Rylan.

Rylan told them that the alternative way was to approach the
castle from the back by first cutting through deep,
unthreaded marshlands; it was a venture he was not looking
forward to risking in darkness.

Trajan agreed. "We go back," he decided, "there is little
more we can do. We have gathered enough facts for the night.
To wire up this old place like a fortress is proof enough
that something is brewing."

They retraced their steps along the narrow trail of stones
and Rylan, once more acting as their guide, led them back to
the outskirts of Myarvil. Here they stood, at the end of
their mission, grim and exhausted, burdened with the
knowledge that soon these pastoral surroundings would turn
into a battlefield. Trajan observed his companions one by
one; they appeared hardly weakened, rather they were
strengthened by the experience. Nonetheless, the situation
merited more than mere staunchness of will and resolve, and
he gave them his last instructions for the night.

Fredric nodded. "As soon as it is morning I will knock on
the doors of Myar Hall and haul off the trio living there to
Wryn Manor, for briefing, and most importantly, to prevent
them from gossiping around."

"My grandfather would certainly know what to do with them."

"Your grandfather," Trajan spoke to Rylan gravely, "is Lar
Protector of Myaron. I have to submit myself to his
authority before I can do anything else."

Rylan offered eagerly: "You can lodge at the manor for the
night."

It was a tempting offer but Trajan declined and promised to
pay his respects to Lar Wryn Senior by daybreak. Before the
coming of dawn more pressing matters needed to be sorted out
at the barn headquarters of the Rescue Force. Rylan and
Fredric went their diverse ways to catch a few precious
hours of sleep, while Trajan and Lieutenant Darien returned
to the barn; for the latter two of them there would be no
rest for the remainder of the night.