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Home is Where You Left It Part 2

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Gort looked at her. "And if he's trying to sell us out to the k.u.majis?"

"Then--then I'll do whatever Steve asks me to. I promise."

"That's good enough for me," Steve said.

A few minutes later, armed with atorifles and their share of the food and water that was left, Steve and Mary set out northward across the sand while the caravan continued east. Fear of what they might find mounted.

The first night, they camped in the lee of low sandhills. The second night they found a small spring with brackish but drinkable water. On the third day, having covered half the distance to the k.u.maji settlement, they began to encounter k.u.maji patrols, on foot or _thlotback_, the six-legged desert animals running so swiftly over the sands and so low to the ground that they almost seemed to be gliding.



Steve and Mary hardly spoke. Talk was unnecessary. But slowly a bond grew between them. Steve liked this slim silent girl who had come out here with him risking her life although she must have known deep in her heart that her father had almost certainly decided to turn traitor in order to regain his fortune.

On the fourth day, they spotted the unicopter from a long way off and made their way toward it. It had come much further than Steve had expected. With sinking heart he realized that Tobias Whiting, if he escaped the crash-landing without injury, must surely have reached the k.u.maji encampment by now.

"It doesn't seem badly damaged," Mary said.

The platform had buckled slightly, the 'copter was tilted over, one of the rotors twisted, its end buried in sand. Tobias Whiting wasn't there.

"No," Steve said. "It's hardly damaged at all. Your father got out of it all right."

"To go--to them?"

"I think so, Mary. I don't want to pa.s.s judgment until we're sure. I'm sorry."

"Oh, Steve! Steve! What will we do? What _can_ we do?"

"Find him, if it isn't too late. Come on."

"North?"

"North."

"And if by some miracle we find him?"

Steve said nothing. The answer--capture or death--was obvious. But you couldn't tell that to a traitor's daughter, could you?

As it turned out, they did not find Tobias Whiting through their own efforts. Half an hour after setting out from the unicopter, they were spotted by a roving band of k.u.majis, who came streaking toward them on their _thlots_. Mary raised her atorifle, but Steve struck the barrel aside. "They'd kill us," he said. "We can only surrender."

They were hobbled and led painfully across the sand. They were taken that way to a small k.u.maji encampment, and thrust within a circular tent.

Tobias Whiting was in there.

"Mary!" he cried. "My G.o.d! Mary...."

"We came for you, Dad," she said coldly. "To stop you. To ... to kill you if necessary."

"Mary...."

"Oh, Dad, why did you do it? Why?"

"We couldn't start all over again, could we? You have a right to live the sort of life I planned for you. You...."

"Whiting," Steve said, "did you tell them yet?"

"No. No, I haven't. I have information to trade, sure. But I want to make sure it's going to the right people. I want to get our...."

"Dad! Our money, and all those deaths?"

"It doesn't matter now. I--I had changed my mind, Mary. Truly. But now, now that you're a prisoner, what if I don't talk? Don't you see, they'll torture you. They'll make you talk. And that way--we get nothing. I couldn't stand to see them hurt you."

"They can do--what they think they have to do. I'll tell them nothing."

"You won't have to," Whiting said. "I'll tell them when we reach the larger settlement. They're taking us there tomorrow, they told me."

"Then we've got to get out of here tonight," Steve said.

The low sun cast the shadow of their guard against the _thlot_skin wall of their tent. He was a single man, armed with a long, pike-like weapon.

When darkness came, if the guard were not increased....

They were brought a pasty gruel for their supper, and ate in silence and distaste, ate because they needed the strength. Mary said, "Dad, I don't want you to tell them anything. Dad, please. If you thought you were doing it for me...."

"I've made up my mind," Tobias Whiting said.

Mary turned to Steve, in despair. "Steve," she said. "Steve.

Do--whatever you have to do. I--I'll understand."

Steve didn't answer her. Wasn't Whiting right now? he thought. If Steve silenced him, wouldn't the k.u.maji torture them for the information?

Steve could stand up to it perhaps--but he couldn't stand to see them hurt Mary. He'd talk if they did that....

Then silencing Whiting wasn't the answer. But the k.u.majis had one willing prisoner and two unwilling ones. They knew that. If the willing one yelled for help but the yelling was kept to a minimum so only one guard, the man outside, came....

Darkness in the k.u.maji encampment.

Far off, a lone tribesman singing a chant old as the desert.

"Are you asleep?" Mary asked.

"No," Steve said.

"Dad is. Listen to the way he's breathing--like a baby. As if--as if he wasn't going to betray all our people. Oh, I hate him, I hate him!"

Steve crawled to where the older man was sleeping. Tobias Whiting's voice surprised him. "I'm not asleep. I was thinking. I--"

"I'm going to kill you," Steve said very softly, and sprang at Whiting.

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