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“You won’t—not if I can help it,” Kennon said. “Move away from me—quickly!”

“But—”

“Do as I say!” Kennon’s voice was sharp. “And keep that hood over your face.”

The airboat settled softly on the ash in front of him, the door snapped open and Douglas dropped to the ground, Burkholtz jutting from his pudgy fist.

“My, my,” Douglas said, “what have we here? Dr. Kennon and a woman! I thought better of you than that, Doctor. And all dressed up in antiradiation suits. This is interesting. Just what are you doing up here on the mountain so late at night—prospecting?”

“You might call it that,” Kennon said. His body sagged with relief. Douglas thank Ochsner it was Douglas! He was running true to form—talking when he should have been shooting.

Douglas jerked his head toward Copper, standing a few feet to his left. “Who is she?”

“None of your business,” Kennon snapped, hoping that his outburst covered Copper’s gasp of surprise and fear, and knowing that it didn’t.

“I’m making it my business. There’s something funny going on around here.”

Kennon blinked. Could it be that Douglas didn’t know? Had he been watching them on radar? Durilium was radar-transparent. It absorbed and dissipated electromagnetic waves rather than reflecting them. For a second he felt a tiny surge of hope.

“Stand where you are,” Douglas said as he stepped over to the half-paralyzed Copper and jerked the hood back from her face. For a moment he looked puzzled. “Just who are you?” he demanded. “I don’t recall seeing you before.” And then recognition dawned. “Old Doc’s Lani!” he gasped.

“She works for me now,” Kennon said.

Douglas laughed. It wasn’t a nice sound. “All dressed up?” he asked. “Nice work.”

“That’s my fault,” Kennon said.

“You know the rules,” Douglas said. “I could blast you both.”

“Go ahead,” Kennon said, “but if you do, you’ll never find out what we’re doing up here.”

Douglas hesitated. Kennon’s voice was flat and filled with utter conviction.

“There’s a reason why Copper’s wearing that suit,” Kennon continued, “and you won’t know that either.”

The Burkholtz swiveled around to point at Kennon’s belly. “I’ve had about enough of this. Let’s have it. Tell me what you’re doing here!”

“I’ll do better than that,” Kennon said promptly. “I’ll show you. You’ll be surprised at what we’ve uncovered.” He made his muscles relax, and forced himself to speak naturally. Copper, he noted, was still rigid with terror. The Alexanders—any of them—were everything he had said they were. They were the masters here. And despite Copper’s boast, she was as susceptible to their influence as any other Lani.

“All right,” Douglas said, “show me this thing I’d never be able to find without your help.” He half turned to Copper. “Stay where you are, Lani,” he said. “Don’t move until I come back.”

“Yes, Man Douglas,” Copper replied. Her voice was flat, colorless, and submissive.

Kennon shuddered. He had never heard precisely that tone from her before. One word from Douglas and she had become a zombie—a mindless muscle preparation that existed only to obey. Anger filled him—anger that one he loved could be ordered by someone who wasn’t worth a third of her—anger that she obeyed—anger at his own impotence and frustration. It wasn’t a clean anger. It was a dark, red-splashed thing that struggled and writhed inside him, a fierce unreasoning rage that seethed and bubbled yet could not break free. For an instant, with blinding clarity, Kennon understood the feelings of the caged male Lani on Otpen One. And he sympathized.

“Follow me,” he said and started around the ship.

“Stay—no—go ahead,” Douglas said, “but remember, I’m right behind you.”

Kennon walked straight up to the pit and pointed down at the dark bulk of the Egg., concealed in the shadows of the bottom.

“That’s it,” he said.

“What? I don’t see anything,” Douglas said suspiciously.

“Here—I’ll shine a light.” Kennon reached for his belt.

“No you don’t! I know that trick. You’re not going to blind me. Take that torch loose carefully—that’s it—now hand it to me.” Douglas’ hand closed over the smooth plastic. Cautiously he turned on the beam and directed it downward.

“A spacer!” he gasped. “How did that get here?” He leaned forward to look into the pit as a dark shadow materialized behind him.

Kennon choked back the involuntary cry of warning that rose in his throat. Copper! His muscles tensed as her arm came up and down—a shadow almost invisible in the starlight. The leaning figure of Douglas collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been suddenly released. The torch dropped from his hand and went bouncing and winking down the wall of the pit, followed by Douglas—a limp bundle of arms and legs that rotated grotesquely as he disappeared down the slope. Starlight gleamed on the Burkholtz lying on the lip of the crater, where it had fallen from his hand.

“I told you that not even Man Alexander could order me since I gave my love to you,” Copper said smugly as she peered over the edge of the pit, a chunk of lava gripped in one small capable hand. “Maybe this proves it.”

“Douglas isn’t Alexander,” Kennon said slowly as he picked up the blaster, “but I believe you.”

“Didn’t I act convincingly?” she said brightly.

“Very,” he said. “You fooled me completely.”

“The important thing was that I fooled Douglas.”

“You did that all right. Now let’s get him out of that pit.”

“Why?”

“The jet blast will fry him when we take off.”

“What difference would that make?”

“I told you,” Kennon said, “that I never destroy things unnecessarily—not even things like Douglas.”

“But he would have destroyed you.”

“That’s no excuse for murder. Now go back to the jeep and fetch a rope. I’ll go down and get him out.”

“Do we have to bother with him?” Copper asked, and then shrugged. It was an eloquent gesture expressing disgust, resignation, and unwilling compliance in one lift of smoothly muscled shoulders.

“There’s no question about it,” Kennon said. “You’re becoming more human every day.”

He chuckled as he slid over the edge of the pit following the path Douglas had taken a moment before. He found him sitting on a pile of ashes, shaking his head.

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