The Weakling

Excerpt

aran Makun looked across the table at the caravan master.

“And you couldn’t find a trace of him?”

“Nothing. Not even a scrap of his cargo or so much as the bones of a long-neck. He just dropped out of sight of his whole train. He went through this big estate, you see. Then he cut back to pick up some of his stops on the northern swing. Well, that was all. He didn’t get to the first one.” The other waved a hand.

“Weird situation, too. Oh, the null was swirling, we know that, and he could have been caught in an arm. It happens, but it isn’t too often that an experienced man like your brother gets in so deep he can’t get out somehow—or at least leave some trace of what happened.” The man picked up his cup, eying it thoughtfully.

“Oh, we’ve all had close ones, sure. We’ve all lost a long-neck or so, now and then. Whenever the null swirls, it can cover big territory in a big hurry and most of that northern swing is null area at one time or another. One of those arms can overrun a train at night and if a man loses his head, he’s in big trouble.” He sipped from his cup.

“Young caravan master got caught that way, just a while back. A friend of mine, Dr. Zalbon, was running the swing after the null retracted. He found what was left.”

“Told me he ran into a herd of carnivores. Fifteen or twenty real big fellows. Jaws as long as a man. He killed them off and then found they’d been feeding on what was left of Dar Konil’s train.”

He shook his head. “It’s not a nice area.”

“Hold everything.” Naran leaned forward. “You said my brother went through this big estate. Anyone see him come out?”

[p 11]
Dar Girdek smiled. “Oh, sure. The Master of the Estates, Kio Barra, himself. He saw him to the border and watched him go on his way.”

Naran looked doubtful. “And what kind of a character is this Barra?”

“Oh, him!” Dar Girdek waved a hand. “Nothing there. In the first place, he holds one of the biggest estates in the mountain area. So what would he want to rob a freight caravan for?” He laughed.

“In the second place, the guy’s practically harmless. Oh, sure, he’s got a title. He’s Lord of the Mountain Lake. And he wears a lot of psionic crystalware. But he’s got about enough punch to knock over some varmint—if it’s not too tough. Dar Makun might be your weak brother, but he’d have eaten that guy for breakfast if he’d tried to be rough.”

“Psionic weakling, you mean? But how does he manage to be a master Protector of an Estate?”

Dar Girdek smiled wryly. “Father died. Brother sneaked off somewhere. That left him. Title’s too clear for anyone to try any funny business.”

“I see.” Naran leaned back. “Now, what about this null?”

“Well, of course you know about the time the pseudomen from the Fifth managed to sneak in and lay a mess of their destructors on Carnol?”

“I might. I was one of the guys that saw to it they didn’t get back to celebrate.” Naran closed his eyes for an instant....