CHAPTER VII Jarl picked Tas Karrel's ship, the _Knife_. Unswerving, Sais at his side, he stalked up her ramp. A grim, slim, deadly craft, the _Knife_, black as the heart of her mutant master. The fastest ship in all the raider fleet, with a killer crew drawn from the scum of the whole wide solar system. The guard at the hatch was such a one--an Earthman, long fled from his own home planet. Slouched at his post below the scarlet signal light, thumb hooked in belt, he stared bleakly off across Ceresta's port and puffed at a _chang_ cigarette of Venus. Jarl's footsteps echoed. The guard swung round. The next instant he was whipping up his blaster. The cigarette fell from his lips, forgotten. "Jarl Corvett--!" Jarl laughed, a cold and mirthless laugh, and raised his empty hands. "Put your blaster down. I've come to see Tas Karrel." "He's not aboard." The Earthman's blaster did not waver. "I know it. I'll wait." The guard's brow furrowed. For a moment he stood hesitating, wordless. Heedless of the menace in the cold blue eyes, Jarl brushed on past him. Chill arrogance in his stance, he strode down the echoing corridor to the crewmen's day-room. A knot of lounging raiders looked up as he entered, then snatched for weapons. Again his name rang: "Jarl Corvett--!" "It's Corvett!" And again Jarl laughed his reckless laugh. "That's right. It's Corvett." A _Pervod_ pushed forward. Jarl recognized him as one of Tas Karrel's chief lieutenants. The creature's chill reptilian eyes flicked from Jarl to Sais, then on to the Earthman guard who had followed them in. "What brings these two here? Where did they come from?" "How should I know?" the Earthman shrugged. "They say they want Karrel--and I know he wants them." "Yes. They find it easier to come than to leave us." The _Pervod_ laughed harshly and swung back to Jarl. "You, Corvett! We know you! What do you want here?" Bleakly, Jarl met the reptilian's glare. Feet wide apart, hands on hips, he stood straight and steady, surveying the crewmen who crowded around him. "I want you!" he slashed harshly. "Me--?" He could see the lean _Pervod_ stiffen. Jarl let his voice ring. "Yes, you--and all of these others. The _Knife_, too...." He grinned as he said it, and looked from one hard-bitten face to another--measuring each raider, timing his pause to their grim, deadly potential. He knew them so well, these outlaw crewmen. _Chonya_ and _Malya_; _Pervod_ and Earthman; _dau_, _fala_, _Fantay_--they were one with him. When his eyes met theirs, it was almost as if he could see their restless minds working. * * * * * A silence built up in the echoing day-room. Before it could break, he spoke again to them: "I need a ship!" he said boldly. "A fighting ship, fast enough to break through the Federation's own cordon. And"--he paused--"that ship must have a crew that fears neither man nor devil." The silence echoed louder.