"We leave the wires on the winches, because we'll have to shift the position of the shield from time to time by shortening some wires and lengthening others," Carrel said.
When the task was complete and the shield glimmered in the sunlight like a nearby moon, they all returned to the living quarters.
"Qoqol, you'll be in charge of keeping the shield at the proper angle," said Carrel. "And, Albrekt, the truce is over."
"What do you mean by that?" growled Albrekt, his hand dropping to his heat gun.
"I've kept my promise while the shield was being built," answered Carrel. "Now, if we can catch you off guard, and do it without being burned down, I warn you we're going to try to disarm and capture you."
Albrekt relaxed.
"You won't get the chance," he promised. "If you did, what good would it do you? We rendezvous with my ship in less than four months now."
Despite Carrel's threat, Albrekt was still in control of the situation when the hour of rendezvous approached. The necessity for keeping alert against possible attack was a considerable strain on him, but he had been under strain many times before in his life. Neither Carrel nor either of the others had made any overt move.
Assured in his own mind that the risk became less and less as the trysting place neared, Albrekt had permitted the crew into the control room except when he slept above a locked hatch. Half an hour before the scheduled time of meeting with the Flanjo ship, Carrel, Migl and Qoqol filed up through the hatch. Albrekt offered no objection, and they floated across the control room to seats.