按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
ks； the months； passed uselessly。
Whoever had attacked Moros had covered their tracks well。 The news of the planet's destruction spread round the Inhabited Worlds quickly； as such news always did … but Keill could find not one grain of fact or hope within the quantities of speculation and rumour。 So he had e to Coranex； just one more stop in。 his random； desperate planet…hopping …knowing with bitter rage how rapidly his time was running out。
The pain within him had grown steadily more fierce； though in the legionary's way he had kept it firmly under control； so that no one would have guessed that he was not in perfect health。 But at last； on one of his earlier planetary stops； he had spent a few galacs to consult a space medic。
The medic made exhaustive tests。 And the gloom that settled on his brow was enough to tell Keill the results。
The radiation … from some altered isotope unrecognized by either Keill or the medic … had settled in Keill's bones。 There it was creating cellular changes and breakdowns that were surely； inevitably； killing him。
A month more； the medic had said。 Two at the most。
More than half of that month had passed by the time he made planetfall on Coranex。 Keill had almost begun looking forward to the end … not only as a release from the pain。 It would also release him from the dreams that came to torment his nights； in which he re…lived the terrible day when he thought he was rushing to his planet's aid and found he had e to join it only in death。
And it would release him from the despair which came with the growing realization that his search for other legionary survivors seemed more and more hopeless。
But now 。 。 。 hope had revived。 If the man called Crask had been speaking the truth； he was only hours from a meeting with other survivors； and perhaps some answers to the questions that plagued him as fiercely as the pain。
（The flavour of that anticipation reached into the dream； filled it； changed its nature。 The tense movements of his closed eyes dwindled as the dream images fragmented again and scattered。 For the first time in weeks； Keill sank deeper into a peaceful； undisturbed sleep。 And his ship plunged on through nothingness； towards a planet called Saltrenius。）
The spaceport at Saltrenius might have been the port at Coranex … the same plasticrete surface； scarred and crumbled here and there from shoddy maintenance and the batterings of a thousand ships … the same low； shabby buildings where bored officials scanned identification； took details； yawningly accepted landing fees。
Even the town clustered near the port might have been transplanted from Coranex and all the other small； unimportant worlds like it。 Of course there were differences： the shape of the buildings； the appearance and dress of the people。 Saltrenius was grimier than most worlds； for much of the planet was devoted to gathering and processing a dusty residue from the bark of a native plant； used on many worlds in medical pounds。 The dust； Keill found； was everywhere …especially； it seemed； on the usual assortment of dingy buildings devoted to the less choosy pleasure…seekers among space travellers。
This time； though； Keill avoided those streets。 He was looking for a different source of information … local facts； this time； rather than space talk。 Every world naturally had its own forms of munications media … holo…screen or the more out…dated ultravid。 The media people were the ones most likely to know what he needed to know。
A few questions； and he located the building he wanted； which housed the local office of the munications network。 Squat； grey and dull the building was； and Keill spared it hardly a glance。 A few more questions； a few galacs changing hands； and a secretary was going in search of a network newsman。 'Just the man you want；' Keill had been told。 'Knows everything going on in Saltrenius。'
Only minutes later Keill was sitting in a noisy； crowded reception area； with a beaker of some unidentifiable fluid before him； while across the table a grey old man who said his name was Xann Exur was gulping a similar beakerful with every sign of deep enjoyment。
At last the beaker was set down； empty。 Keill； his own still untasted； signalled a bartender for another； then looked hopefully at the old man。
Exur wiped his lips； loose grey flesh wobbling at jowl and throat。 'Sure I can help you； boy。 Glad to。 Always thought well of the Legions … terrible thing that happened。'
Keill nodded； waiting。
The old man leaned forward。 In his eyes shone the eternal hope of a professional newsman scenting a story。 'Any ideas yourself how it happened ？'
Keill shook his head。 'If you can tell me what I want to know； I might be on the way to some ideas。 But I haven't much time。'
Exur looked disappointed。 'Ah well； imagine it'll all e out someday。' His second drink came； and he was about to gulp it in the wake of the first when Keill leaned forward and took hold of the skinny wrist。 The grip was light； but the old man did not fail to sense the steely strength within those fingers。
'I said I haven't much time；' Keill said quietly。
'Oh； right； sure；' Exur said rapidly。 'Like I said； glad to help。 What's happened is this 。。。'
Keill released his grip and listened patiently as the old man told his rambling tale。 Three men in legionary uniform had e to Saltrenius； a month or so earlier。 They had picked up supplies； and had spent some time in the town； where Exur had heard of their presence and had spoken to them。
The three had confirmed that Moros was destroyed； and that they might be the last living members of the Legions。 But in case they weren't； they had been spreading the word round the spaceways。 They were planning to set up a base； so that if there were other survivors they too could make their way to Saltrenius and join their fellows。
'Did they say why they had chosen this place ？' Keill asked。
'Nope。 And I didn't press them。 They didn't mind talking to me； telling me their story； but they didn't like too many questions。 Especially the big fella。'
'But did you find out where this base is ？'
'Sure。' The old man grinned； pleased with himself。 'On Creffa。'
'Creffa？'
Exur waved a skinny hand in the air。 'One of our moons。 Saltrenius's got two。'
Keill looked baffled。 Why a moon ？ Why Saltrenius at all ？ And the old man read his expression correctly。
'Yep； I wondered why Creffa too。 Didn't like to ask； by then； but they told me。 There's an old space…dome out there； built when we were exploring the moons； years back。 They're fixing it up to be their base。 Guess they like to keep themselves to themselves。'
Keill was still slightly puzzled； but at least that part made sense。 Moros had； after all； been attacked。 The attacker； whoever it might be； was still around somewhere。 A handful of legionaries would think first of setting up a base that was at once remote and defensible。 A dome on an airless moon might do very well。
'Then they're still there ？' he asked。
'Sure；' Exur said。 'Been seen just recently； down here。 They e down now and then to pick up stuff they need。'
'And there's no doubt in your mind that they're legionaries ？'
'Well； they said they