Moru understood about guns. At least, the tall strangers had demonstrated to their guides what the things that each of them carried at his hip could do in a flash and a flameburst. But he did not realize that the small objects they often moved about in their hands, while talking in their own language, were audiovisual transmitters. Probably he thought they were fetishes.
Thus, when he killed Donli Sairn, he did so in full view of Donli’s wife.
That was happenstance. Except for prearranged times, morning and evening of the planet’s twenty-eight hour day, the biologist, like his fellows, sent only to his computer.
But because they had not been married long, and were helplessly happy, Evalyth received his ‘casts whenever she could get away from her own duties.
The coincidence that she was tuned in at that one moment was not great. There was little for her to do. As militech of the expedition – she being from a half barbaric part of Kraken where the sexes had equal opportunities to learn of combat suitable to primitive environments – she had overseen the building of a compound; and she kept the routines of guarding it under a close eye. However, the inhabitants of Lokon were as cooperative with the visitors from heaven as mutual mysteriousness allowed. Every instinct and experience assured Evalyth Sairn that their reticence masked nothing except awe, with perhaps a wistful hope of friendship. Captain Jonafer agreed. Her position having thus become rather a sinecure, she was trying to learn enough about Donli’s work to be a useful assistant after he returned from the lowlands.
