waters. But they will not come to this city without good reason. It is
an accursed place."

With the early morning the city drew them once more. Dalgard's
curiosity pulled him to that storehouse. He could not stifle the hope
that with luck he might find something there which would solve their
problem for them. If there could only be a way to avoid open conflict
with Those Others, some solution whereby the aliens need never know of
the existence of the Colony. For so many generations, even centuries,
the aliens had been confined, or had confined themselves, safely
overseas on the western continent. Perhaps if now they were faced by
some new catastrophe, they would never attempt to come east again. He
had visions of discovering and activating some trap set to protect
their treasures which could be turned against them. But he realized
that he lacked the technical knowledge which would have aided him in
the search for such a weapon.

The remnants of Terran science and mechanics, which the outlaws had
brought with them from their native world, had been handed on; the
experiments they had managed since with crude equipment had been
carefully recorded, and he was acquainted with the outlines of most of
them. But the few destructive arms they had imported were long since
worn out or lacked charges, and they had not been able to duplicate
them. Just as they had torn asunder the ship in which they had crossed
space, to use its parts for the building of Homeport, so had they
hoarded all else they had brought. But they were limited by lack of
materials on Astra, and their fear of the knowledge of the aliens had
kept them from experimenting with things found in the ruins.

There might be hundreds of objects on the shelves of that storage