The Earthman leaped back, cursing.
His bronzed friend laughed again. "A wonderful creature, the djevoda. Tons of solid meat, ready for the slicing. But definitely not to be domesticated."
"So I see," Craig agreed, a trifle sourly.
"They charge movement on sight," his guide went on. "Killing them, save from directly above, takes a deal of doing. So, they roam these southern plains by hundreds. That's why this range was never settled, till Tumek gave the flying disc to the Baemae. But overhead, we're safe from them. We can herd them with our whips like cattle, or kill them at will with a bolt at the base of the brain. They feed us, clothe us, protect us, give us freedom...." He broke off. "But I talk too much of our own affairs. Tell me, how did you escape—and what of Tumek?"
Craig said, "Tumek ... is dead."
The laughter left the bronzed man's face. "Tumek dead—!" He cursed aloud. "How did it happen?"
Briefly, Craig told him ... showed him the crystal ... mentioned the ourobos.
Only one thing did he leave out.
Narla.
He didn't know why. It made no sense, even to him.