covered the plains. From the Queen's observation ports, one could watch
the constant ripple of the grass so that the planet appeared to be
largely clothed in a shimmering, flowing carpet. To the west were the
seas--stretches of shallow water so cut up by strings of islands that
they more resembled a series of salty lakes. And it was what was to be
found in those seas which had lured the Solar Queen to Sargol.

Though, by rights, the discovery was that of another Trader--Traxt
Cam--who had bid for trading rights to Sargol, hoping to make a
comfortable fortune--or at least expenses with a slight profit--in the
perfume trade, exporting from the scented planet some of its most
fragrant products. But once on Sargol he had discovered the Koros
stones--gems of a new type--a handful of which offered across the board
in one of the inner planet trading marts had nearly caused a riot among
bidding gem merchants. And Cam had been well on the way to becoming one
of the princes of Trade when he had been drawn into the vicious net of
the Limbian pirates and finished off.

Because they, too, had stumbled into the trap which was Limbo, and had
had a very definite part in breaking up that devilish installation, the
crew of the Solar Queen had claimed as their reward the trading rights of
Traxt Cam in default of legal heirs. And so here they were on Sargol with
the notes left by Cam as their guide, and as much lore concerning the
Salariki as was known crammed into their minds.

Dane sat down on the end of the ramp, his feet on Sargolian soil, thin,
red soil with glittering bits of gold flake in it. He did not doubt that
he was under observation from hidden eyes, but he tried to show no sign
that he guessed it. The adult Salariki maintained at all times an
attitude of aloof and complete indifference toward the Traders, but the