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The globe coasted over the rough oval and came down in open fields to the west. It was a maneuver which Raf copied, though he first dropped a flare as a precaution and brought the flier down in its red glare, with the warrior expressing shrill disapproval. "I don't think they like fireworks," Soriki remarked. Raf snorted. "So they don't like fireworks!

Swiftly Raf outlined what he had seen in the city, and ended by describing the hunt in which he had taken an unwilling part. "I'm hungry," he ended and went to burrow for a ration pack. "So," mused Soriki as Raf chewed the stuff which never had the flavor of fresh provisions, "somebody's been trying to beat the painted lads to it. The furry people?"

From the earphones Soriki had left on the seat the gabble had risen to a screech and one part of Raf's brain noted that the sounds were repetitious: was an order to surrender being broadcast? His thumb was firm on the firing button of the gun and he was about to send a warning burst to the right of the alien when an order from Hobart stopped him cold. "Take it easy, Kurbi."

He told his story of the hunt and its ending, the capture of the stranger. Lablet nodded as he finished. "That is the reason for this, you may depend upon it, Captain. One of their own people is at the bottom of it." "Of what?" Raf wanted to ask, but Soriki did it for him. Hobart smiled grimly. "We are all traveling back together. Take off in the early morning.

But there was no reproof in his words. As a spacer pilot he knew that Raf had only done what duty demanded. "We're to remain here for the night." "Where's Lablet?" Soriki wanted to know. "He's staying with Yussoz, the alien commander. He thinks he has the language problem about solved." "Good enough." Soriki pulled out his bed roll. "We're out of touch with the ship "

The fire whip the globe had used, magnified to some infinitely greater extent ? It could be. The alien at his side pressed tightly against the windshield gazing down at the ruins. And now he mouthed a gabble of words which was echoed by his fellow sitting with Soriki. Their excitement must mean that this was their goal. Raf slacked speed, waiting for the globe to point a way to a landing.

"Yeah," Soriki echoed, "looked like we might be sandwich meat there for a while. The kid knows his stuff after all." Raf grinned a little sourly, but he did not answer that. He ought to know his trade. Why else would he be along? They were each specialists in one or two fields. But he had good sense enough to keep his mouth shut. That way the less one had to regret minutes or hours later.

He pulled off his helmet and then glanced up to find Soriki smiling at him. "Oh, we're not such a bad collection of space bums. Maybe you'll find that out someday, boy. They breezed you into this flight right out of training, didn't they?" "Just about," Raf admitted cautiously, on guard as ever against revealing too much of himself.

But it was coming. He whirled to Dalgard, only to see that the other was on his feet and had taken up his spear. "It is the flitter! Soriki heard they're coming!" Raf hastened to assure him. For the last time he saw Dalgard's slow, warm smile, clearer than he had ever seen it before. Then the scout turned and trotted away, toward a fringing rock wall.

And that now "men" were not standing together. But he had no intention of spilling that out to Soriki. "Man is intelligence." The com-tech was answering the question Raf had almost forgotten that he had asked the moment before. Yes, the proper conventional reply. Soriki was not going to be caught out with any claim of prejudice.