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"Perhaps he decided to go through the gate on his own," Ger suggested.
[original: Ilg suggested (n. of transcriber)]
Pid considered the possibility. It seemed unlikely. Ilg had never shown much initiative. He had always been content to follow orders.
They waited. But midday came, and there was still no sign of Ilg.
"We can't wait any longer," Pid said, and they started through the woods. Pid wondered if Ilg _had_ tried to get through the gates on his own. Those quiet types often concealed a foolhardy streak.
But there was nothing to show that Ilg had been successful. He would have to a.s.sume that the Radioman was dead, or captured by the Men.
That left two of them to activate a Displacer.
And he still didn't know what had happened to the other expeditions.
At the edge of the woods, Ger turned himself into a facsimile of a Dog. Pid inspected him carefully.
"A little less tail," he said.
Ger shortened his tail.
"More ears."
Ger lengthened his ears,
"Now even them up."
They became even.
Pid inspected the finished product. As far as he could tell, Ger was perfect, from the tip of his tail to his wet, black nose.
"Good luck," Pid said.
"Thanks." Cautiously Ger moved out of the woods, walking in the lurching style of Dogs and Men. At the gate the guard called to him.
Pid held his breath.
Ger walked past the Man, ignoring him. The Man started to walk over.
Ger broke into a run.
Pid shaped a pair of strong legs for himself, ready to dash if Ger was caught.
But the guard turned back to his gate. Ger stopped running immediately, and strolled quietly toward the main door of the building.
Pid dissolved his legs with a sigh of relief ... and then tensed again.
The main door was closed!
Pid hoped the Radioman wouldn't try to open it. That was _not_ in the nature of Dogs.
As he watched, another Dog came running toward Ger. Ger backed away from him. The Dog approached and sniffed. Ger sniffed back.
Then both of them ran around the building.
That was clever, Pid thought. There was bound to be a door in the rear.
He glanced up at the afternoon sun. As soon as the Displacer was activated, the Grom armies would begin to pour through. By the time the Men recovered from the shock, a million or more Grom troops would be here, weapons and all. With more following.
The day pa.s.sed slowly, and nothing happened.
Nervously Pid watched the front of the plant. It shouldn't be taking so long, if Ger were successful.
Late into the night he waited. Men walked in and out of the installation, and Dogs barked around the gates. But Ger did not appear.
Ger had failed. Ilg was gone. Only he was left.
And _still_ he didn't know what had happened.
By morning, Pid was in complete despair. He knew that the twenty-first Grom expedition to this planet was near the point of complete failure.
Now it was all up to him.
He saw that workers were arriving in great number, rus.h.i.+ng through the gates. He decided to take advantage of the apparent confusion, and started to shape himself into a Man.
A Dog walked past the woods where he was hiding.
"h.e.l.lo," the Dog said.
It was Ger!
"What happened?" Pid asked, with a sigh of relief. "Why were you so long? Couldn't you get in?"
"I don't know," Ger said, wagging his tail. "I didn't try."
Pid was speechless.
"I went hunting," Ger said complacently. "This form is ideal for Hunting, you know. I went out the rear gate with another Dog."
"But the expedition--your duty--"
"I changed my mind," Ger told him. "You know, Pilot, I never wanted to be a Detector."
"But you were _born_ a Detector!"
"That's true," Ger said. "But it doesn't help. I always wanted to be a Hunter."
Pid shook his entire body in annoyance. "You can't," he said, very slowly, as one would explain to a Gromling. "The Hunter shape is forbidden to you."