They returned to the station’s dark cavern just as the drone pulled a light sheet over Neisin’s still form. “Oh, there you

are," it said. “I didn’t

see any point in contacting you." Its voice was hushed. “There wasn’t anything you could have done."

“Satisfied." Aviger asked Horza, after they had put Neisin’s body with Dorolow’s. They stood near the access gantry, where

Yalson had

resumed guard duty on the unconscious Idiran.

“I’m sorry about Neisin, and Dorolow," Horza told the old man. “I liked them, too; I can understand you being upset. You don’t

have to stay

here now; if you want, go back to the surface. It’s safe now. We’ve accounted for them all."

“You’ve accounted for most of us, too, haven’t you." Aviger said bitterly. “You’re no better than Kraiklyn."

“Shut up, Aviger," Yalson said, from the gantry. “You’re still alive."

“And you haven’t done too badly, either, have you, young lady." Aviger said to her. “You and your

friend

here."

Yalson was quiet for a moment, then said, “You’re braver than I thought, Aviger. Just remember it doesn’t bother me a bit

you’re older and

smaller than me. You want me to kick your balls in…" she nodded and pursed her lips, still staring at the

limp body of the Idiran officer lying in

front of her, “… I’ll do it for you, old boy."

Balveda came up to Aviger and slipped her arm through his, starting to lead him away as she walked by. “Aviger," she said,

“let me tell you

about the time—" But Aviger shrugged her away and went off by himself, to sit with his back to the station

wall, opposite the reactor car.

Horza looked down the platform to where the old man sat. “He’d better watch his radiation meter," he said to Yalson. “It’s

pretty hot down

there near the reactor car."

Yalson gnawed at another ration bar. “Let the old bastard fry," she said.

Xoxarle woke up. Yalson watched him regain consciousness, then waved the gun at him. “Tell the big creep to head on down the

ramp, will you,

Horza." she said.

Xoxarle looked down at Horza and struggled awkwardly to his feet. “Don’t bother," he said in Marain, “I can bark as well as

you in this

miserable excuse for a language." He turned to Yalson. “After you, my man."

“I am a female," Yalson growled, and waved the gun down the ramp, “now get your trefoil ass down there."

* * *

Horza’s suit AG was finished. Unaha-Closp couldn’t have taken Xoxarle’s weight anyway, so they would have to walk. Aviger

could float; so

could Wubslin and Yalson, but Balveda and Horza would have to take turns riding on the pallet; and Xoxarle

would need to foot-slog the whole

twenty-seven kilometers to station seven.

They left the two human bodies near the doors to the transit tubes, where they could collect them later. Horza threw the useless

lump of the

Mind’s remote drone to the station floor, then blasted it with his laser.

“Did that make you feel better." Aviger said. Horza looked at the old man, floating in his suit, ready to head up the tunnel

with the rest of

them.

“Tell you what, Aviger. If you want to do something useful, why don’t you float up to that access ramp and put a few shots

through the head of

Xoxarle’s comrade up there, just to make sure he’s properly dead."

“Yes, Captain," Aviger said, and gave a mock salute. He moved through the air to the ramp where the Idiran’s body lay.

“OK," Horza said to the rest; “let’s go."

They entered the foot tunnel as Aviger landed on the middle level of the access ramp.

Aviger looked down at the Idiran. The armored suit was covered with burn marks and holes. The creature had one arm and one

leg missing;

there was blood, dried black, all over the place. The Idiran’s head was charred on one side, and where he had

kicked it earlier Aviger could

see the cracked keratin just below the left eye socket. The eye, dead, jammed open, stared

at him; it looked loose in its bone hemisphere, and

some sort of pus had oozed out of it. Aviger pointed his gun at the head,

setting the weapon to single shot. The first pulse blew the injured eye

off; the second punched a hole in the creature’s face

under what might have been its nose. A jet of green liquid splashed out of the hole and

landed on Aviger’s suit chest. He

splashed some water from his flask over the mess and let it dribble off.

“Filth," he muttered to himself, shouldering his gun, “all of it… filth."

“Look!"

They were less than fifty meters into the tunnel. Aviger had just entered it and started floating toward them, when Wubslin

shouted. They

stopped, looking into the screen of the mass sensor.

Almost at the center of the close-packed green lines there was a gray smudge; the reactor trace they were used to seeing,

the sensor

being fooled by the nuclear pile in the train behind them.

Right at the very edge of the screen, straight ahead and over twenty-six kilometers away, there was another echo. It was no

gray patch, no

false trace. It was a harsh, bright pinpoint of light, like a star on the screen.