The Bones of Zora

IV - THE SITE

Reith and Marot went back to their specimen. For most of the afternoon, the paleontologist pried and picked and swept, while Reith wandered about looking for more detached fossils. He found hardly any, for the ferment of emotions aroused by the impending visit kept distracting him from the task at hand. Over and over, he found himself rehearsing the things he would say to Alicia if they met. At last Marot called:

"Fergus! Look at this ... You see, now I have its whole flank exposed. In this flank are two limbs. See there and there? Both terminate in a process that is not quite a leg. I believe those little things are partly-calcified cartilagenous rays, evolving into webbed feet. Krishnan cartilage differs chemically from ours—that in the human nose, for example—and therefore fossilizes better. Do you realize what you have done?"

"Nothing wrong, I hope," said Reith.

"On the contrary, you have provided the clutching argument—"

"You mean 'clinching,' don't you?"

"Yes, yes, the clinching argument in the dispute with Foltz! See?" In his excitement, the portly Marot did a little dance step. "This creature has two limbs on a side, not three. And it is a true transitional form: a piscoid in the act of turning itself into a salamandroid. So the division between the Hexapoda and the Tetrapoda must have taken place before this emergence."

"You mean the division between the four-leggers and the six-leggers happened while these 'legs' were still just fins?"

"That is the idea."

Reith frowned. "Are you sure all the land-living—ah— Tetrapoda of today are descended from this guy? Could it be that his line died out, and then a branch of the six-leggers lost a pair of legs, the way Foltz claims?"

Marot sobered. "That will doubtless be Foltz's argument. Of course, we never have all the fossils we need to settle, beyond all doubt, the question of who descended from whom. But this guy, as you call him, is a weighty argument on my side. I shall name the species after you, Fergus—something reithi."

"Thanks. I'll call him 'Ozymandias'," said Reith. "You know: 'Round the decay of that colossal wreck ...' "

"Ah, yes. That was some nineteenth-century English poet, was it not? Byron? Tennyson?"

"Shelley. Are you going to dig the whole skeleton out, bone by bone? Some of those bones look pretty small and fragile."

"You are right," said Marot. 'This skeleton must be taken whole back to Novorecife, along with the additional fragments we have found."

"You mean in one solid rock? That'll weigh a couple of hundred kilos, won't it?"

"I do not think so. I shall mark out a block, and our stalwart helpers can earn their pay by digging a trench around the specimen and prying the whole loose from its matrix. Then I shall chip away at the block from various sides until I begin to strike bone, to reduce the weight to a minimum. Finally, I shall haul the block out of the pit and load it on one of our beasts." Marot climbed out of the depression and shouted: "Doukh! Girej! Come here, please!"

Marot explained to the Krishnans what he wanted done, scraping a groove around the specimen with the pointed end of his geologist's hammer to show them where to dig. For the rest of the afternoon he hovered over them, anxiously watching lest they cut too close to his find.

The afternoon sun scorched the riverbank and the laboring men. Stripped to the waist, Reith said, "I'm going to get one of those super-cowboy hats they wear here. How about you?"

Marot shrugged. "I have been so absorbed that I have not noticed the heat. Anyway, Roqir does not burn the flesh so severely as our own Sol, because of the deeper atmosphere."

"You swarthy Latins," said Reith, "can take the sun better than us pale-skinned Nordics. Redheads like me just burn and peel."

Later, Reith interrupted the scientist again: "Aristide, if we're going to Foltz's camp, we'd better start getting cleaned up."

"Ah, yes. I had forgotten in the ecstasy of finding this beautiful specimen. That will be all the digging for today, my good fellows."

An hour later, as Roqir sank in the west, Reith and Marot, freshly washed and in clean khakis, rode in to Foltz's camp. They found this camp much more impressive than their own. Five tents stood amid evidence of much work done in the time since Foltz arrived. They saw tables on which fossils were being cleaned and sorted, piles of fossil-bearing rock awaiting attention, and a pile of discarded rock fragments. Reith thought that Foltz's party must include about a dozen people.

The two armed guards, wearing vests of rusty chain mail, had been lounging before the main tent. As Reith and Marot appeared, the guards scrambled up and stood at attention with drawn swords resting against their shoulders.

Foltz emerged from the main tent, saying "Rabosh dir!" ("At ease!") to the guards. Then he came forward, shouting: "Ma'lum! Take charge of these gentlemen's ayas!"

As the visitors dismounted, Foltz extended a welcoming hand to each in turn. "I'm glad you came. Sit at that table, will you?" He raised his voice again. "Daviran! Serve us kvad."

When the drinks were poured, Foltz raised his mug: 'To all the fossils on Krishna!"

The kvad was the same fiery stuff that Sainian had served them. Marot drank, then raised his mug again: 'To the truth to which they will lead us, whatever it be!"

Foltz drank to that one, but silently. After the first gulp, Reith sipped slowly. Marot, he feared, was in such a euphoric mood that he might get tight and blab about his find. Reith resolved to stay sober and keep an eye on the Frenchman, who seemed to have forgotten his own warnings about Foltz's fanaticism.

"The truth," said Foltz, "will turn out to be my theory. You'll see."

Having finished his first mug of kvad, Marot smiled craftily. Foltz signaled Daviran to refill the vessels: Marot's; Reith's, still more than half full; and his own, empty. Taking another gulp, Marot said:

"Perhaps and perhaps not. If you saw the specimen that we found today, you might not be so chickensure."

Foltz looked puzzled, then laughed. "You mean cocksure. What's this marvelous specimen?"

Reith wanted to shout: "Shut up, you damned fool!" He glanced beneath the table to be sure of kicking the right ankle, then nudged Marot's leg with the toe of his boot.

Marot said: "Aha, do you not wish you knew? In any case, I cannot tell more, because it is only partly exposed. But from what I have seen, it will drive the screw in the coffin of your theory."

"I must come over and have a look," said Foltz.

"You will be welcome at any time," Marot laughed. "Just think of the irony! La Rochefoucauld could not do better. Here I, an established paleontologist of wide experience, come across light-years of interstellar space to dig up Krishnan bones. Then, the first day, what happens? A rank amateur—excuse me, Fergus, but that is what you are—finds what may be the most crucial specimen in the whole field of Krishnan evolution!"

"Congratulations, Mr. Reith," said Foltz. "If, that is, this find turns out to be as critical as my enthusiastic colleague seems to think. But brace yourself for disappointment. Scientists have gone wrong in such extrapolations before. I have firmly established the Hexapod ancestry of all Krishnan land vertebrates beyond—"

Marot interrupted: "Oh, quel sottise! You are an incorrigible self-deceiver, Warren—"

"On the contrary, it's you and the other fuddy-duddies who—"

"Please, gentlemen!" said Reith loudly, since the discussion promised to become an open quarrel. "Let's shelve the technical argument. Most of it's over my head, anyhow. There's plenty going on in Krishna to talk about. The nomads of Qaath are threatening—"

"Damn it, I—" began Foltz.

"But I insist—" began Marot.

The flap of the main tent parted, and out stepped a slender, striking woman of delicate features and golden-blond hair. She had almost reached the table when her gaze met Fergus Reith's. She stopped as if she had run into an invisible wall. Her lips parted silently.

"Lish!" said Reith, setting down his mug and rising.

"Fergus!" she said. After a second's hesitation, she stepped forward again. She and Reith shook hands.

"You know each other?" asked Foltz, glancing sharply from one to the other.

"Yes," said Reith.

"I do not know the so-charming Mademoiselle," said Marot. "Pray, present me!"

"Oh, ah," said Foltz. "Alicia, this is my colleague, Aristide Marot. Doctor Marot, my secretary, Dr. Alicia Dyckman. She does for me what Mr. Reith does for you: translating, dealing with the locals, buying, hiring, and so on."

Marot kissed Alicia's hand, but she barely acknowledged the gesture. Her eyes were on Reith. She said: "Warren didn't tell me who was coming over to dinner. Did you know I was here?"

"I thought you might be," said Reith. "I was braced for it."

"Sit down, everybody," said Foltz. "One more round and we'll eat." He looked alternately at Reith and Alicia, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. At last he said: "Things begin to fall into a pattern. Alicia, is Mr. Reith by any chance that former husband of yours T'

She nodded, staring uncomfortably at her knuckles.

Foltz continued: "You never mentioned his name; at least, not—so I didn't know—I mean, I didn't plan this as a surprise—"

"I'm always delighted to see an old friend," said Reith. "Lish, how are you doing? How come you're not barging around on your own, collecting anthropological data on the Krishnans?"

"They didn't renew my grant," she said. "At least, the letter failed to arrive on the ship it should have. I wasn't quite broke, but if I'd waited around for more grant money and none came ..." She shrugged. "When Warren offered me the job, I took it. Of course, I've been collecting my own data in my spare time, as well as keeping his records and coping with the Krishnans. How about you?"

"Still running guided tours, and in between times recovering from the last one and planning for the next. The job is really getting too big for one man to handle, but a couple of Krishnans I've tried to break in as assistants have pooped out."

"What was their difficulty?"

"One could never be on time, which is fatal in my trade. The other couldn't learn English well enough to be understood, let alone any other Terran tongues."

"Drink up!" said Foltz. "Here's dinner."

As the party progressed, Reith asked Foltz: "Did you have any trouble with the Bákhites?"

"No. Luckily, when I was in Jeshang, High Priestess Lazdai was up in the hills, filling her venom sacs. Did you?"

"No; she was still on vacation." Reith turned back to Alicia. "Tell me, Lish, where were you all that time during the last year, after—after we—after we lost touch? When I got back from my tour, you'd dropped out of sight. Not even Herculeu knew where you were."

Having finished his dinner, Marot took out a large cigar. He glanced at Reith and Alicia, utterly absorbed in each other and oblivious of their table companions. Foltz sat quietly frowning.

Marot rose. "Warren, my old one, let us take a little walk and a smoke to settle our stomachs. Perhaps we can do ourselves some good by pooling our observations of the local geology."

Foltz glowered, hesitated, then rose and walked off with Marot. Alicia told Reith:

"I went to Katai-Jhogorai to study their family system. It's an extreme example of disjunctive marriage, in which there's no connection between the practical ends of the union and affection between spouses. So long as the marriage serves its politico-economic functions, neither spouse cares how many love affairs the other has or who fathers the eggs; like royal marriages in pre-industrial Europe. One who demands exclusive sexual rights to another they consider a barbarian.

"The system fascinated me, and I might be there yet. But I ran into trouble and had to leave in a hurry."

"What happened?"

"You know that slavery is a sore subject there? Some anti-slavery societies have sprung up; but the masses fear and hate them. Shortly before I arrived, a mob lynched an abolitionist who spoke out of turn.

"One of these societies heard that Terrans were anti-slavery and sent a delegation to me, to try to enlist my support."

"Oh, oh!" said Reith. "I know what's coming."

"No, you don't! I know what you're thinking: There goes Alicia, meddling in Krishnan affairs and putting all the Earth-men on the planet in danger."

"I didn't say anything of the kind!"

"You didn't have to; I know you too well. No, I flatly turned down these good people and forbade them to use my name in their propaganda."

"Then what—?"

"They went ahead and used it anyway, publishing a synopsis of their interview with me. Then the soup was in the fire—"

"You mean, you did sound off on slavery, but supposedly off the record?"

"Well, they asked some straight questions, so I thought I ought to give straight answers. I thought I could trust them. I couldn't very well pretend to be pro-slavery, now could I?"

"You could have refused to discuss the subject at all. Lish darling, you're incorrigible, and it'll kill you yet. Let's be thankful you got out of that one with a whole skin."

Marot and Foltz returned to the table. Foltz sat down heavily and tossed down another drink. He said: "Renewing old acquaintance, I see. That's okay, so long as you don't go getting ideas."

"I beg your pardon?" said Reith, giving Foltz a coldly level stare.

"I said, don't go getting ideas."

"Ideas about what?" Reith's muscles tensed themselves.

"About Alicia, you—" Foltz seemed to have been about to say something like "you fool!" but choked it off. "She's my secretary, and I won't let anybody come between us."

"I believe the lady will have the last word on that," said Reith sharply.

"Not this time she won't." Foltz's speech showed the first traces of the thickening induced by alcohol. "I know she's no dewy-eyed innocent, what with you, and that black African, and the President of Qirib, and I don't know who else; but for here and now she's my—my—"

As Foltz groped for a word, Reith began slowly to rise, like an uncoiling spring. Alicia sent frightened glances from one to the other. Then Marot spoke up loudly:

"I fear that we must be going, my friends. We have had a long day. I most sincerely thank you, Warren."

"Oh, ah," said Foltz, recovering his self-possession. "Must you go? Think you can find your way back?"

"I am sure of it. Golnaz is nearly at the full, and we can always go down-grade until we strike the river."

"Sure," said Reith, also clapping on the mask of civility. "With these six-legged critters, you don't have to worry about their stepping into a hole and going arse-over-teakettle with you. Goodnight, Lish."

He and Alicia shook hands again, but continued their clinging handshake, murmuring: "When can I see you ..." "I want to hear more about ..." "Whatever happened to ..."

At last Marot touched Reith's elbow, saying: "Come along, Fergus. Faites une bonne nuit!"

Recalled to the present, Reith gave Alicia's hand a brisk squeeze and turned away, mounting his aya without further words.

When they had ridden away from the camp, Reith said: "Good thing you broke that up, Aristide. In another minute we'd have been kicking and gouging. The most damned uncomfortable dinner party I ever sweated through; like dining with the headsman the night before he shortens you."

"Ah, yes," said Marot. "I only regret that you did not shut me up more quickly when I talked indiscreetly of our find. When shall we learn never to commit these gaffes? But to speak of more pleasant matters, I was much impressed by your Alicia."

"Not mine any more, I'm sorry to say."

"I am still impressed. She seems to have more virtues than any one woman ought to have: the beauty, the intelligence, the charm, the energy ..."

"You'd have to know her better to perceive the less admirable ones, which are not really faults but virtues carried to extremes."

"As an example?" queried Marot.

"She should be the greatest xenologist in the galaxy. But a xenologist should know how to be quietly inconspicuous—to blend into his background. Lish is about as inconspicuous as a sunflower in a coal scuttle. She's also bossy, dogmatic, contentious, and hot-tempered. She has a touch of the missionary attitude; instead of just accepting the Krishnans as they are and studying them, she will try to set them right and convert them to Terran ideals. As a result, she's persona non grata in several Krishnan nations, and she's lucky she hasn't been killed."

"Without doubt you have reason. It is also plain to the eye that you and she are not—how shall I say—not altogether emotionally detached."

"No, worse luck. I'm afraid the old fires are just banked, not extinguished."

"Fire banked?" said Marot uncertainly. "Oh, you mean le feu est couvert." With a sigh, Marot shook his head. "It is a spectacle to make angels weep; two good, decent people who love each other but are prevented by a clash of personalities from living together. But this Foltz displays a proprietary attitude toward her. Do you suppose they are—ah—"

"If he's screwing her, you can be sure it's by consent. If he used force, she'd kill him in his sleep."

Broodingly Marot said: "Have a care, my old one. I can see the making of a fatal triangle—a fine melodrama, like one of those Italian operas where everybody stabs everybody."

"Better worry about your own fatal triangle," said Reith.

"How do you mean?"

"You, Foltz, and Ozymandias. That's as likely to cause violence as mine."

Reith spent a restless night, troubled by memories of the times he and Alicia had been together and by dreams of making passionate love to her.

The following morning, Fergus Reith parted the tent flaps to see a gray dawn lightening an overcast sky. An hour later, the work of blocking out Ozymandias was well under way when Doukh looked up from his task to say: "Master Reef, yonder comes someone!"

Following the Krishnan's pointing finger, Reith looked, and his heart seemed to turn over inside his ribs. Alicia, in khaki shirt and shorts, was running towards the excavation. As she came nearer, Reith saw that she was not only dirty and disheveled but also bore a black eye and several visible bruises about the face, arms, and legs.

"Good God, Lish! What's up?" cried Reith.

"Warren b-beat me up!" she sobbed, throwing herself into Reith's arms. "I ran away, and I've been wandering in circles half the night trying to find you." Her speech was thickened by a split and swollen lip.

Marot cleared his throat. "Fergus, my friend," he said, "perhaps you and this little lady would prefer to discuss matters by yourselves, hein?"

"He's right," said Reith. "Come this way, Lish, and tell me about it. Did you say that bastard beat you up?"

"Y-yes."

"I'll kill him, and I don't mean just punching his nose. But tell me the whole story."

"Well, after you went away, Warren and I got into a fight. He was furious at what he said was the way you and I had eyes for nobody but each other through dinner, and how we held hands and cooed at each other in saying good-night. He accused me of being still in love with you."

"Are you?" Reith asked on sudden impulse.

"That's not a fair question, right now. I'll admit you'll always be someone special to me. Anyway, one thing led to another, and I told him a few home truths about himself."

"Using your tongue as a scalpel to skin him alive. I know your talents."

"Don't be mean! I couldn't bear it. What tore it was when I told him how much better in bed you were than he. Then he really lost his temper and began punching and kicking. I'm stronger than I look, but he's stronger yet. When he'd battered me around the tent, he tried to rape me.

"I won't kid you, Fergus. I've been sleeping with him ever since this expedition started; that was part of the agreement—"

Reith sorrowfully shook his head. "Doesn't sound quite like you, Lish."

"I know; it looks as if I were for sale to the highest bidder. But it was neither for love nor for fun; it was that or starve. He made it plain at the start: no fucky, no jobby."

"Good lord, that's practically rape anyway. But I don't see—no talented Ertsu need starve on Krishna. There are always jobs to be had among the natives—"

"Ah, but it's one thing for a man like you to apply for such a job, and quite another for a personable Terran woman to do so. I've been offered jobs by several Krishnan bigwigs; but every offer had the same string attached as Warren's.

"What you don't understand is how low I felt. I'd fallen down on my job, been kicked out of Katai-Jhogorai with my work half done, lost my grant, run out of money, and thrown away the best man I was ever likely to get. So, what did I have to lose? Warren looked pretty good on first contact, and I thought I might be able to build the relationship into something useful. I was a fool, of course."

"Sweetheart, you need never starve on Krishna while I have one arzu to rub against another."

With tears in her eyes, Alicia threw her arms around Reith and buried her face in his chest. "Oh, darling ... But you weren't at Novo then. Even if you had been, I couldn't have asked favors of you after the way I'd treated you.

"Anyway, to get back to last night: After he'd beaten me half unconscious, he came at me with lance in rest. But this wasn't lovemaking; it was plain sadism."

"How did you get out of that? You said 'tried'."

"I kneed him in the crotch. If I'd only had a good sharp knife or sword, I'd have given him a sex change free of charge ... Anyway, while he was still doubled over, I ran out. Then I tried to find your camp, but I got lost."

"You knew about where it was, and you always had a keen sense of direction."

"True; but I hadn't been over this way. And then the overcast crept across the sky, so I couldn't steer by the moons and stars. After dawn, I recognized the slope of the land; and I knew that if I kept going down-slope, I'd come to the Zora."

Reith said: "First, let's get you cleaned up. Come on in this tent, where I've got my first-aid kit."

"I have stuff like that, too; but it's back at Warren's—oh, my God! All the notes I've been taking on Krishnan sociology are still in Warren's tent!"

"Hold still, darling. This will sting ... Better forget your notes for the present."

"But I must go back and get them—"

"You're not going anywhere. If I get a chance later, I'll get them for you." For once Alicia forwent an argument, to Reith's relief. All too well, he knew her tendency to respond to any opposition with a fierce, intransigent belligerence. He continued: "What gave Foltz the idea he had exclusive rights to you? Did he consider you his betrothed or something?"

"No; he never even suggested a permanent relationship, legal or otherwise—not that such a proposal would have interested me, once I got to know him. It was just plain, old-fashioned jealousy. You might read my Ph.D. thesis, on the proprietary component of the human sexual drive. Warren doesn't care for anyone but himself and his career. His idea is, what's mine is mine, and what's yours is negotiable. And he viewed his secretary-mistress as much his as his geologist's hammer."

Later, outside the tent, Reith sat down and began sharpening his sword on a whetstone, with long, careful strokes. Alicia, cleaned and tidied, followed him out. She asked:

"What are you doing?"

"I told you I'd kill that guy. When this is sharp enough to shave with, I'll ride back to his camp and have at him."

"Do you mean that, Fergus?"

"Of course. I'll bring his head back on the point of my snickersnee."

"But that's crazy!" She looked up as Marot approached. "Aristide, talk sense into this chivalrous idiot! He's acting like one of his nuttier tourists!"

When Reith's plan had been explained, Marot said: "I sympathize, my friend. An ancestor of mine killed a man in a duel on less provocation. But let us see if the means you propose will lead to the desired result, or if they will be—how do you say—contraproductive. First, have you any idea how good a fencer Foltz is?"

"No. Do you know, Lish?"

"I suspect he's quite good. He has some padded jackets and wooden practice swords, and he and the guards fence with them."

"Furthermore," continued Marot, "you propose to assail this villain alone, when he has eight or nine Krishnans, including a pair of armored guards, at his call. You would have only me, and I am no warrior; I do not think our Krishnans would be of help. Even if you wounded Foltz, one of his retainers would stab you from behind. Then who would be left to protect the lady?"

"Fergus needn't pick a fight with Warren," said Alicia. "He said he'd kill both of you, the first chance he got."

"Then again," continued Marot in his calm, professorial manner, "suppose against all odds that you succeed. Dasht Kharob was very insistent that there be no combat between Foltz and me, and I am sure he would feel just as strongly about you and Foltz. Unless the winner quickly escaped across some border, he would find himself arrested by the men of the Dasht. By then, the High Priestess may be back on her throne, looking for a chance to question the victor on the orthodoxy of his theological views—with the help of the red-hot pincers."

"I hate to admit you're right," growled Reith. "But suppose Foltz brings his whole gang over here and attacks us?"

"Then we must fight or flee, as circumstances dictate. Meanwhile, I urge that we finish our work as soon as possible. If you and I aid our Krishnans with the picks and the shovels, perhaps we can break the block out this afternoon and be on our way back to Kubyab before nightfall. Once there, I think we can count on the good squire for help. Meanwhile, the charming little Doctor Dyckman had better catch up on her sleep."

"Aristide!" she said sharply. "I hate it when people call me 'little'! I'm a hundred and seventy centimeters, which is well over average height for American women."

"A thousand pardons, my lit—my tall dear."

An hour later, Alicia was asleep in the Terrans' tent. Reith and Marot, stripped to shorts and boots, worked on the excavation along with the two Krishnans. Although Roqir was still hidden by the overcast, the day turned steamy-hot. To aggravate their problems, a few centimeters below the surface, the ruddy sandstone became harder and more resistant to the picks, slowing the excavation.

Reith stepped back for a breath, drew his forearm across his sweat-bathed forehead, and looked up. "More visitors!" he exclaimed.

Two riders in wide straw sombreros approached at a gallop. One was the shaihan-herd whom Sainian had posted at Foltz's camp; the other, Warren Foltz.

As they neared the excavation, Foltz pulled his aya to a halt with a savage jerk, sprang to earth, and tossed the reins to the shaihan-herd. Reith noted that Foltz wore his sword. Reith felt for his own and then realized with dismay that it was back in his tent. He cursed himself for stupidity.

Foltz stepped close to Reith, barking: "Where's Alicia?"

"What business is that of yours?" said Reith. "She's my woman, that's what business it is, and I'll have her back!"

"She's nobody's woman. She can go where she likes and live with whom she pleases."

"Oh, yeah?" said Foltz. "We'll see about that." He looked around. "I'll bet she's in one of those tents. I'm taking her back, and don't anybody try to stop me if he knows what's good for him!"

"What saith the Terran?" asked Girej. "We want no part of this dispute."

Foltz turned and started for the tents. Reith bounded around and got in front of him. "Keep away from those tents!"

"Gentlemen!" said Marot. "You must not carry this further. Fergus is correct about the rights of Doctor Dyckman."

"Out of my way, Reith!" snarled Foltz, drawing his sword and pointing it at Reith's naked midriff. "I don't want to kill you, particularly; but if you try to stop me I will!"

Reith spied Marot's Marsh pick lying on the red, pebble-dotted soil. He snatched up the tool and again confronted Foltz.

"Think you can fight with that? Ha!" said Foltz. "Okay, sucker, don't say I didn't warn you!" He threw himself forward in a fencing lunge.

Reith parried the lunge with the head of the Marsh pick, batting the blade aside with a clang. He tried to get in a return blow at Foltz's head, but the awkward implement moved too slowly in his hands. He had to whip it around to parry another thrust. Then came another, which he barely avoided.

Reith was aware of movement behind Foltz. He was watching his antagonist too closely to note peripheral details but heard a solid thump. Warren Foltz swayed and collapsed, his sword clattering on the pebbles. Marot stood behind the fallen man, holding in both hands his geologist's hammer.

Reith knelt to examine the body. A wound on Foltz's scalp oozed blood, but his pulse was regular. Reith cautiously probed the scalp around the wound; there was no indication of a broken skull.

"What'll we do with him?" said Reith. "I'd like to cut the bastard's throat, but I suppose that would cause more trouble than it's worth. Besides, it wouldn't seem right."

Marot replied: "I suggest that we tie and gag him until we are ready to depart."

The shaihan-herd, who still sat his mount, spoke: "Sirs, what do ye? My master told me not to meddle in the privy quarrels amongst the Terrans. At the same time, I was to succor Master Folt when, because of 's ignorance, he got into trouble. Lives he yet?"

"He lives," said Reith. "He'll probably recover—perhaps in an hour or two."

"I'll take care of him," said the shaihan-herd. "Pray hold these."

As he spoke, the Krishnan dismounted and handed the reins of the two ayas to Reith and Marot. He picked up the unconscious Foltz and slung him across his saddle, so that his head and arms hung down on one side and his legs on the other. With the lariat that had been coiled on his own saddle, the shaihan-herd secured Foltz in place. Then he remounted, took both sets of reins, and set out at a walk. The two animals passed over the nearest rise and out of sight.

"Thanks, Aristide," said Reith. "He'd have let daylight into me otherwise."

Marot shrugged. "What is a friend for? But I do not know that we were clever to let that cowboy take him away. We should have tied him up and kept him here until we left, as I proposed."

"I'm afraid you're right. When the Krishnan took over, I didn't think fast enough."

"But look," said Marot. "The day is more than half gone, and the weather does not look good. Let us return to our muttons."

"Belt on your sword! We've got to wear them and sleep with them, even when they're in the way."

Alicia appeared at the entrance to the tent and came towards them, moving briskly even though the signs of her recent encounter with Foltz were still visible. "Has anything happened while I slept?" she asked.

"Grand dieu, has anything happened!" exclaimed Marot. "We had a visit from your former employer, who tried to kill Fergus."

"What?"

"Let Fergus tell you the tale. Me, I must push some more work from these soi-disant workers."

Marot turned back to the dig. Reith, who had been examining Foltz's sword, narrated the events of the man's visit. Alicia cried:

"Oh, you beast! Why didn't you wake me up, at least after the Frenchman stunned him?"

"If you'd been here, darling, you might have gotten between us and been run through by Foltz or whacked with my pick. So it's just as well."

"Male bigot! I seem to miss all the fun. But, after Aristide hit him, why didn't you kill him? You earlier wanted to ride to his camp and skewer him."

"I know. I thought of it, but it might have caused complications with the Dasht and, later, with the administration at Novorecife."

"Nonsense! All you had to do was put your point against his throat and push, and say it was self-defense. Or quietly take him away and bury him, and say nothing to anybody."

"Sainian's cowboy was watching, so the story would have gotten out. Besides, killing an unconscious man goes against the grain."

"Oh, you sentimental idiot! You're as bad as Percy Mjipa! He's a magnificent fighter and brave as a pride of lions, but his squeamishness almost got us killed three times in the Khaldoni countries."

"Percy!" said Reith to the heavens. "Where are you now that we need you?"

"He's off being Terran consul at Zanid."

"I know. I'm sorry, Lish, but if you want a cold-blooded killer, don't waste time on me."

"Then let me tell you what your attack of knight-errantry will cost us. When Warren recovers, he'll come back loaded for bear. You'll wake up to find yourself full of arrows and bolts, without a chance to use that nice shiny sword. He's a grade-A hater. If you think he'd spare you because you spared him, you're kidding yourself."

"If he's such a creep, how come you ever took up with him?"

"Mainly, because he had a job for me when I had to have one or starve. To be fair, Warren has his good points, even though he's a bastard in other ways. He's a handsome devil and can be charming. He's a hard worker and honest according to his lights. But when he gets a fixed idea, he'll break a leg, no matter whose, to prove it.

"Of course, I should have caught on to Warren's nature sooner. He hit me once before, a slap in the face when we quarreled. But he seemed so truly sorry that I forgave him."

"Well," said Reith, "we've got to dig out Aristide's fossil and be on our way before Foltz tries anything more. I'd better lend a hand with the picks and shovels. You can help, too."

"How? I'd be glad to."

"By scraping away the spoil as we dig the trench around the block. Otherwise it keeps sliding back down in."

The block came loose as the light began to fade. Marot said: "Much as I wish to be off, I do not see how we can part before tomorrow. So let us eat, go early to bed, and be up before daybreak."

Alicia was sitting by the dying fire, asking the two Krishnan workers about life in Kubyab and scribbling notes in English shorthand, when Reith beckoned Marot into their tent. In an undertone he said:

"I can't very well ask her to bunk in with the Krishnans, although they have more room than we do. Three in here would crowd us badly. Shouldn't you and I both move—"

"But my friend!" exclaimed Marot. "It is I alone who shall move in with our workmen. You shall remain. Do you think I am made of stone?"

"Well—ah—"

"It is the only practical plan. Four in the larger tent would be too many. But please have a care for my papers and specimens."

"Of course!" said Reith. He went out and spoke to Alicia: "We keep farmer's hours here, you know."

"That suits me. It's been a rough day."

"Okay. Aristide has given up his mattress to you."

"Darling of him." As she tied the tent flaps closed, she asked: "Is that one his?"

"Yep," said Reith. Like any old married couple, they stripped without ceremony or self-consciousness. But, when Reith turned down the lamp, Alicia slithered in under Reith's quilt. At once, without words or hesitation, they began kissing and fondling, avidly and hungrily, with a kind of desperate ardor. It was as if by the intensity of their lovemaking they hoped to wipe out all the unhappy memories of the past year. Presently Reith whispered: "Ready?"

"You just bet! ... Boy, you certainly are! Just be careful of my bruises, dearest love!"

From the other tent came the plaintive sounds of Marot's flute and the snores of the hired hands.

As they lay side by side in the darkness, Reith heard a smothered sniffle. Alicia angrily wiped away a tear; he knew how she hated displays of feminine weakness. But then came a sob and a torrent of tears. She buried her face against Reith's chest, murmuring:

"Oh, Fergus, what a fool I've been! I should have known that good men like you don't grow on trees."

Cradling her in his arms and stroking her hair, Reith felt wetness trickling down his own cheeks. He longed to tell her how much he loved her and wanted her back. But his basic caution, together with a lively memory of their battles before the break, held him silent. Before he dared commit himself again, he wanted to observe her, to make sure that the other, the unlovable Alicia, the termagant into which she sometimes unpredictably metamorphosed, had been banished for good.

After Alicia had cried for a while, she said in a choked voice: "Fergus dear, you don't suppose—I mean—could we possibly—"

"We'll see how things work out," said Reith.

She lay silently for a time before saying: "I suppose that's the best I can hope for now. Whatever happens, you'll always have a special place in my heart."

"And you in mine."

"You know I wasn't without experience before I met you, but you're the only one I've ever really enjoyed making love with."

Reith thought it tactless, but entirely characteristic of Alicia, to bring up her sexual adventures before and after her marriage. She had a compulsion to confess to any act of hers that the hearer might take as to her discredit. Yet her allusion sent waves of intense curiosity through Reith's mind. He wanted to know all about her relationship with Foltz. When and how had they begun? Was it true that Foltz had failed to give her pleasure, or had she said that merely to flatter her former husband?

Reith sternly repressed his curiosity, not wishing to embarrass or offend her. She plunged on: "In spite of what Warren said, it's not true about me and Percy Mjipa. We were not sexually intimate, even though we were cooped up naked together, and with his huge strength I couldn't have prevented him. Percy's a genuine man of honor. Nor was it true about the President of Qirib, either."

"What's this about President Vizman?" said Reith. "I knew you'd met him on your way to the Khaldoni countries, but ..."

"What gave Warren the idea that Vizman had screwed me? The poor dope fell genuinely in love with me."

"That's easy to do," said Reith.

"I've been propositioned by more Krishnans than I can remember; but Vizman and King Ainkhist were the only ones to offer honorable marriage; and with the king I'd have been just the head of a huge harem. Vizman was unmarried, and the Qiribuma are monogamous; so he wanted to make me the First Lady of Qirib."

"Well, obviously ..."

"Obviously I didn't accept. Vizman's a nice enough fellow as politicians go, but I hadn't the least desire to be his consort, or mistress, or anything other than a friend of another species."

Reith felt himself tensing, as if he were facing an invisible foe; but he kept his voice even. "Well? What happened?"

"I explained, as gently as I could, that we'd have to remain just friends. I had my own life to lead and would not join my fortunes to those of any Krishnan, no matter how exalted."

"At least," said Reith with a sardonic edge to his voice, "you wouldn't have had to worry about your career's being interrupted by pregnancy."

"Let's not revive that old argument, darling! There wouldn't have been any more career—of my kind, anyway. Vizman wanted to buy me an egg on the adoption market, so I'd have a little Krishnan to raise. When I said no, loud and clear, the poor fellow was quite cut up, accusing me of racial prejudice. But he still writes me and sends little gifts.

"Anyway, that's how the story got around. Vizman did offer an unusual inducement to marry him."

"What was that?"

"I stayed several days at his palace, and we had long discussions, mostly about Terran laws and institutions. He'd heard that most Terrans regarded slavery as wrong, and he wanted to know our reasons. So I told him—and don't accuse me of meddling in native affairs!"

"I wasn't going to," said Reith.

"Anyway, when I presented all the arguments, he came around to the anti-slavery point of view."

"I thought there were only a few slaves in Qirib?"

"Several thousand, mostly in the mines of the Zogha Range. I don't suppose they like it better than slaves do elsewhere. Vizman had to move cautiously; but he promised that, if I accepted his proposal, he'd abolish slavery in Qirib within a year. I feel a little guilty about turning him down, when I think of those poor slaves."

"If you'd accepted him," said Reith, "you wouldn't have met me in Novo after Percy rescued you. And we wouldn't have had—whatever we had."

Alicia began to sniffle again. "Now you're thinking, maybe that would have been just as well! Oh, Fergus, for all my bluster about being self-sufficient, I sometimes feel as if I were standing naked in an icy wind. Hold me tight!"

He cuddled and stroked her until she calmed. At last he said: "Good-night, Lish darling," and settled himself to sleep. Outside, a flash of lightning illuminated the crack of the tent flaps. Rain began to drum oh the canvas.