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“I still wouldn’t trust him,” Han warned.

“You don’t trust anybody,” Hasti chided.

“And you don’t see me getting my flipper bit, do you?” he retorted smugly.

“Oh, Kasarax will be all right,” Shazeen said. “He just thought he wanted us to fear him. He’ll like it better once we respect him; all but the worst ones come around, given the chance.”

The far shore had come up quickly. Shazeen propelled them toward it with a few more hard strokes, then flipped over and shoved them on with a sweep of his rear flippers. The raft nosed onto the strand, lifted on the crest. Han stepped onto the damp sand.

The others followed him. Badure had a rather sick Skynx slung over one shoulder. The female who had saved Shazeen’s passengers surfaced next to him, obviously concerned.

But her eye fell on Hasti, whose cowl had fallen back to display her red hair. “You had a rougher ride this time, human,” the Swimmer observed.

Hasti registered confusion. “Wasn’t that you,” the Swimmer female asked, “back before Kasarax took over? Sorry; the hair and, what do you call them, the clothes, are just the same.”

Hasti whispered, “Lanni! These are her clothes!”

Badure asked the female what this passenger had done.

“Just came across and asked people questions about those mountains there, waved a little machine in the air, then went back,” she replied.

Han, pouring water from his boot, looked up at the mountains rearing to the south. “What’s up there?”

“Nothing,” answered Shazeen. “Humans don’t usually go up there. Fewer come back. They say it’s just desolation up there.” He was studying Chewbacca, who had doffed the hated cloak, Bollux’s gleaming form, and the now-reviving Skynx.

“I’d heard that,” agreed Badure. “The mining camp lies on the far side of the mountains, Han, but I’d reckoned we’d go around. Why should Lanni have been interested in them, I wonder?”

Han stood up. “Let’s find out.”

X

THE terrain lifted away from the lakeshore in a series of rolling hills carpeted with soft, blue moss that cushioned their steps. Han was gratified to see the moss spring back when they had passed, thereby obliterating the group’s prints.

Supplies were no problem. The workers on this side of the lake, all members of Kasarax’s shore gang, had departed in haste on seeing their leader defeated, fearing the blood-vengeance of the non-gang members. Calculating a ten- to twelve-day march through the mountains, the party had carefully picked through the abandoned storage buildings for provisions and equipment.

They had filled their packs with jars of lake crustaceans marinated in syrup, plastic cartons of the doughy stuff Hasti had first sampled, tubes of pickled vegetable slices, bags of meal, smoked fish, cured meat, and some hard purple sausages. Even though they carried capacious water bladders, they were relying on finding more water in the mountains. According to the survey map, there were abundant run-offs and fresh springwater throughout the area. Those who wore clothing had gathered cold weather gear. Han had pulled off his wet clothes, settling for a Dellaltian outfit until he could dry his own, and contrived a bandage for the knife cut. Practicality had made Hasti exchange her robes and gown for an outfit suitable for an adolescent boy. They had also found thick, insulated bedrolls.

There were no riding animals or power vehicles to be found. But Han didn’t mind, trusting unfamiliar beasts no more than he did the aged and breakdown-prone Dellaltian machinery. Bollux, who could bear a heavy pack and yet consumed no water or food, found that his popularity had increased. They felt lucky to have him along, knowing none of the local domesticated animals or ground vehicles were suited to the mountain terrain and aircraft were few and far between on Dellalt. They had found some lengths of rope, but no other climbing gear. Neither had they found medicine or a medi-pack, additional weapons or charges, commo or navigational gear, heating unit, or macrobinoculars