Secret of the Stars by Andre Norton Page A

your proposition when we’re ready.”
    Above the face mask those pale gray eyes did not change, but Samms’ hand twitched, and was quickly checked. That twitch had been toward his blaster; Joktar had not been alone in noting that. Rysdyke, standing to one side, slid his feet a little apart as if bracing his body before calling for a blast out.
    Some time passed before the center fire was rebuilt and they gathered around it to share provisions from their trailbags. They were still eating when the leader of the Kortoski mob arose, strode back and forth in the firelight as if his impatience goaded him into at least that counterfeit of action.
    “They’ve leveled a new landing field in the Harband company,” he announced. “Plan to deliver supplies there straight without setting down at Siwaki. Just another move towards closing the regular port entirely. When all the fields are located in company areas, we can never hope to bring free traders in here again.”
    “And what countermeasures do you propose?” That was Hogan sounding disinterested, almost languid. Samms came around quickly as if he had been challenged.
    “Not to sit on our tails and wait!”
    Joktar, watching narrowly, noting the unchanging shallowness of those gray eyes, revised his first judgment of Samms. On the surface, judged by his speech, his attitude, the outlaw was a hot-tempered brawler, ready to use weapon or fist to bull his way to what he wanted. A type readily understood by the trappers he sought to rule.
    Only those eyes belied such a first reading. And Joktar chose to believe the eyes. Samms had the subtle signs of a gambler who had long ago graduated from a star-and-comet table to games played without the aid of kas-cards or counters. The Terran longed to know what series of events had brought Samms to Fenris as an emigrant. And he marked the other down as dangerous.
    “So you don’t believe in waiting,” Hogan continued calmly. “May we ask what sort of action you are urging on us?”
    “They are going to bring in a private ship on the Harband field. Two company vips, six in the crew. What if they found a reception committee ready to scoop the lot. We could dicker with Harband if we had their vips parked up here.”
    “How did you comb out this information, Samms?” Ebers’ drawl came from the other side of the fire.
    “Oh, Samms has his lines of information. Pretty effective they are too, it would seem. Perks isreally delivering,” Hogan returned.
    “Perks was planted,” the other agreed readily. “When the time comes, he’ll give us more help than just information!”
    “And just how did Perks make himself so solid with the companies that he can give us all this help? Wasn’t he the only survivor of a squad who got theirs on the Lizard Back?”
    Hogan answered for Samms. “He was. Too bad, Samms, these awkward questions are bound to be asked. They’re doubly awkward for you because that squad were mostly loyal to Raymark, weren’t they? How did Perks make such a fine impression on his new employers? Use a judicious sellout as an introduction?”
    A low mutter ran around the circle, growing to a growl. But Samms showed no signs of discomfiture.
    “Perks was jumped. Then he was bright enough to take his chances with a good story when they pulled him in. He had one ready.”
    “Always be prepared for capture as well as other eventualities,” remarked Hogan.
    “Now,” Ebers struck in again, “we are being offered some tempting bait and invited to come close and take a sniff. Three mobs able to take this new field! Expect us to swallow that!”
    “I would say that the taking of the field would only be a temporary move,” Hogan spoke directly to Ebers. “Samms has suggested kidnapping. We scoop up the vips, keep them while we dicker with the company until Harband and the rest promise us the wherewithal to make life merrier here in the wilderness. That it, Samms?”
    “Sure, sure,” Ebers snarled his interruption.