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Updated: May 31, 2025
He fashioned his suspicions into one quick thrust. This time there was not the slightest hint of self-betrayal from the other. "You see," Rynch leaned forward, but still well out of reach from the captive, "I remember!" Now there was a faint flicker of answer in the man's eyes. He asked quietly: "What do you remember, Brodie?" "Enough to know that I am not Brodie.
Moving lines of blue-green coming down to the river. Not five or six now a dozen twenty. There was a small trickle of moisture down the side of the Hunter's brown face. "We're penned except straight ahead." "But we're going to fight!" Rynch protested. "No. Move on!" It was some time before Hume found what he wanted, an islet in midstream lacking any growth and rising to a rough pinnacle.
But he was Rynch Brodie, he had come here on an L-B when he was a boy, he had buried the ship's officer under a pile of rocks, managed to survive by himself because he had applied the aids in the boat to learn how. This morning he had been hunting a strong-jaw, tempting it out of its hiding by a hook and line and a bait of fresh killed skipper.
"I was still me as long as I stayed away from conditioning." "Then you became Rynch Brodie in spite of your flight." "No well, maybe, for a while. But I'm still Vye Lansor here." "Yes, here. And I don't think you'll have to worry about raising a premium to get a new start. You can claim victim compensation, you know." Vye was silent, but Hume did not let him remain so.
But the crystal continued to roll at the same pace. "Move!" Hume's other hand hit Rynch's shoulder, knocked him forward in an impetuous shove which nearly took him off his feet. Both men began to run. "What what are those things?" Rynch appealed between panting breaths. "I don't know and I don't like their looks. They're between us and the safari camp if we keep to the river "
"But you Guild men were here, and you didn't run into this!" "I know." Hume sounded baffled. "Not a sign then." Rynch threw the last of his stones, heard it clink harmlessly against a rock. Hume balanced an object on the palm of his hand. "Last flare!" "What's that? Over there?"
One of the men trailed him, but as they reached a post planted a little beyond the bubble tents he stopped, allowed the explorer to advance alone into the dark. Rynch went to cover under a bush. The man was heading to the stream bed. Had they somehow learned of his own presence nearby, were they out to find him? But the preparations the tall man had made seemed more suited to going on patrol.
Where Hume had fired his ray there was fierce activity, as the living feasted on the slain and quarreled over the bounty. But from other quarters the crawling advance pressed on. "I have only one more flame flare," Hume stated. One more flare then they would be in the dark with the mist hiding the forward-moving enemy. "I wonder if they are watching out there?" Rynch scowled into the dark.
The sides were seamed with crevices and caves which promised protection for one's back in any desperate struggle. And they had discovered it none too soon, for the late afternoon shadows were lengthening. There had been no attack, just the trailing to herd the men to the northeast. And Rynch had lost the first tight pinch of panic, though he knew the folly of underestimating the unknown.
Wherever those sparks touched rock or ground they flared up in tall thin columns of fire, lighting up the nightmare on the rocks and up the ledges. Rynch fired the needler, Hume's ray tube flashed and flashed again. Things squealed, or grunted, or died silently, while clawing to reach the upper ledges. He could not be sure of the nature of some of those things.
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