‘Dunno. Our pal offed him about thirty seconds after joining the party. Dunno if that’s enough time to have a reason.’

Colby shook his head. ‘Quite the piece of work.’

‘Aye. But we’ve not heard a peep since.’

‘Can he swim?’

‘No clue. Maybe he’s drowned.’

‘Oh, don’t say that. I’m looking forward to my good deed for the day. But anyway, we’ll go through, then.’

‘Aye,’ said the guard, moving to his left to let them pass.

They walked through into the second tent. This one was considerably smaller, with many narrow partitions leading into what must have been fairly cramped sections, barely wide enough for a man to stand in. The din was incredible—voices of all ages, genders, tones and timbres wailing, screeching, moaning, raised together in one huge massive cacophony of human suffering.

In front of them was another circular tent, still smaller—no, not a tent, just an opening, leading into the rock face itself. Two more guards stood in front of the entrance. Apart from them, the tent they stood in was empty, if one didn’t count the miserable souls bawling around them.

Colby walked towards them, waving the paper in his hand cheerily. Behind him came Albert, struggling all the while.

The men looked up at Colby enquiringly. ‘What?’ said one of them, raising his blaster ever so slightly, just enough to let them know he was doing it.

‘Gentlemen, I bring you a new house guest,’ announced Colby.

‘No weapons,’ said the man.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Colby, pulling his blaster out of his belt, still brandishing the paper about.

They marched through into another tent much like the previous one, with the cloth walls all around and another opening in front, only this one, Albert realized, led not further into the tent, but into the rock face itself.

They marched up to the guards at the opening.

‘Coming through,’ Colby said. ‘Special delivery.’

One of the guards shifted, looking up at him suspiciously. ‘We weren’t told anything.’

‘Of course not. This is a … well … call it a covert operation. How’s your prisoner?’

‘What do you mean—covert?’

‘I mean that since our chap here was so anxious to see his friend, I convinced the commander that it was our duty to reunite them. While we pretended to help him, of course.’

The man looked at him with respect. ‘Doesn’t he have to tell Father, though? How’d you pull that off?’

‘It makes a difference when you care,’ said Colby piously. ‘I thought it would be the right thing to do, and I’m big on doing the right thing, you know.’ He turned and winked at Albert. ‘Isn’t that right, Al? Guess the sincerity just rang through.’ He and the guard laughed together this time.

‘And now, back to business,’ said Colby when they were finally done. ‘Perhaps we’d better deliver the goods.’