right

and then recoiled, sickened. The Can-hound was trailing them. But they did not run, though they were breathing hard when they reached the top of the last flight and saw the door to the tower open just enough for them to squeeze through. Zinga slammed it shut on their heels with an open-jawed snarl of rage.
“So that’s after you!”
“As a trailer only, I think. Let him stew around outside. Now, Rolth, what about that woman. What did she want?”
“She thought we were brave heroes come to the rescue. Cummi’s kept it dark—our arrival—but word got around—our uniforms are too well known. She came to ask for help. The situation here is just about what you thought it was. Cummi’s set himself up as a pocket-sized Central Control. You do just as he says or you don’t eat. And if you protest too loudly you disappear—”
“How many have disappeared?” Fylh wanted to know.
“The Captain of the X451 and three or four others. Then there were four Bemmy passengers—they disappeared too. But not in the same way. I gather that they saw which way the stars were showing right after the landing and went off into the blue by themselves—”
“Bemmys! What species?” Zinga’s frill made a fan behind his head. He still stood by the door as if listening to something on the other side of the portal.
“I couldn’t get that out of her. She didn’t see them until after the ship came down—it was a two-class liner. Anyway there is now a Cummi party, small but armed and dangerous, and an anti-Cummi party badly organized and just milling around—taking it out in talk where they can’t be overheard by the lord and master. Cummi himself keeps holed up here and has his men patrolling. Those who know anything—the