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had pointed an energy rifle at him and compelled him to swallow the Water of
Thought.
It was a couple of days since the ordeal had started, and doubtless that had
been over for some time. For nearly twenty standard hours Boris and Brenda had
been free, a state of affairs that would not sit well with the Kappans, or
with Magnuson, or with the smugglers either.
"The Kappans probably won't care a whole lot one way or the other about you,"
he whispered to Brenda, watching her work, her way as quietly as possible back
into what was left of the coverall.
"I suppose; what's one female more or less? But Don Morton and our dear mayor
will have other ideas." She reached for her shoes.
"But I think Magnuson is probably still in charge."
"Are you telling me I should give myself up?" Her fingers, ready to pull on a
shoe, were still.
"No. Only that if worst ever comes to worst& your ankle's still swollen, isn't
it?
You're having trouble getting that shoe on."
"I can walk."
"We ought to be able to tie some-kind of bandage on it."
They did. By that time it was quite dark, and Boris, spear in hand, led the
way out of the thicket and into the river again. When he drank, he was
again aware of the taste of the Water of Thought. It was faint but
undeniable. This time he spoke of it to Brenda, and she agreed with him.
Now was not the time to debate possible explanations. They moved on
upstream.
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Within a kilometer, as Boris had more or less expected, they ran into steep
rapids.
Here they had to climb from the stream; and when he stood on the high bank
looking back he got a nasty shock. There were lanterns bobbing about near the
thicket where they had spent the day. His plan had used up their strength and
time, and had moved them a score of kilometers farther from the colony, but
their pursuers were now as close on their trail as ever. Or at least some
of them were. He had succeeded in scattering and worrying his tribe of
enemies somewhat, but that was about all.
There was a reasonable path here following the course of the river, and
he led
Brenda upstream along it. If they struck off through the bush now they might
slow themselves down critically and would certainly leave a plainer trail. The
sleeve-socks were an enormous help; getting, even this far without
them would probably have been impossible; but Boris doubted whether they
were going to be enough. Tonight, he thought, my feet will give out on rocks
or plant-stubble somewhere. From then on
I crawl.
As before they spoke little on the trail, giving them both plenty of time for
private thoughts. Boris looked up frequently at the stars. The cruiser had
been scheduled to arrive three days ago, and it might very well be up there in
orbit now. But then, the difficulties of astrogation being what they were,
the ship might very well be three days more, or even longer, in reaching
the system. And when it did arrive, and the people on board learned something
of the colonists' difficulties, they would hardly start their search during
the hours of darkness.
These were not very positive thoughts that Boris was entertaining himself
with, but they were the best he could do at the moment.
It was a nightmare of a night. All through it, four or five lanterns stayed on
their trail in the dark, becoming visible whenever Boris and Brenda topped a
rise. At last the undergrowth beside the riverbank trail thinned somewhat, and
they could move away from the river long enough to start a false
trail or two. These seemed
temporarily effective; each took their pursuers a little time to figure out.
His feet. His weary muscles. He was debating with himself whether to try
sending
Brenda on ahead; and then he saw in the starlight how her mouth was set. Now
when he looked at her movements closely he could see that she was trying to
conceal a limp.
"Your ankle. I thought it was all right now."
"I must have given it another little twist back there. One of
those underwater rocks. Boris, go on ahead. They won't hurt me if
they catch me, you said so yourself. But they'll kill you."
He might have laughed, if his throat wasn't so sore. If several other things.
"I'm moving at about top speed right now, girl. I was about to
send you running on ahead."
After that there seemed no more to say.
At dawn there were no dense thickets to hide in readily available, and the
last look at the lanterns had shown them so close behind that Boris dared not
delay even a minute to look for a good hiding place. They were following
the spine of a high, wooded ridge now, and they just kept moving
along it. Boris considered going downhill into the ravine, hoping to find
a wadable stretch of the Yunoee, or some other stream to drown their trail;
but if he went foothill and then missed finding an escape, the hunters would
be down on them like an avalanche. He didn't think that he could climb another
hill.
Having just admitted that to himself, he saw a place just ahead where the
ridge that they were following angled higher. A sketch of a path led upward,
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and in the soft dust were several sets of prints, from what
certainly looked like bare prime-theme-human feet. He pointed a finger at
them and croaked something.
"Boris, I can't make it." Brenda stumbled, tried to get up, then stayed down
on her knees. "Go on. I'm going to try to hide."
If he tried to help her walk they were both going to fall down. "I shouldn't& "
He wanted to say that he shouldn't have brought her, let her come along,
however it had happened. Too late now. He bent over Brenda where she sat in
the dust and they clasped their hands, all four of them, together.
He could do nothing for her unless he got away.
"They won't hurt me. Go on."
Actually he thought she was going to be better off being caught separately
from him. He croaked some kind of a farewell and turned and tried the hill.
Somewhat to his surprise he found that he could manage it, at least on this
soft dusty trail. His feet had once been useful things, and he supposed they
might someday be so again, but right now he would prefer not to know them. As
for things like water and food and rest& rest&
He was getting lightheaded, and all he had to do now was faint
and roll back
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