"Kind of a pal of yours, wasn't he?"
"He wasn't very strong. He needed someone to cover him."
"Too bad." The man shook his head, and then shrugged. "Maybe it's
better, at that. He was headed for trouble, that one. Kinda leading you
that way, too, I heard. Always talking."
He looked at Kirk's face and shut up suddenly. He turned away and
grunted over his shoulders, "The O.D.'s looking for you."
Kirk followed. The wind was cold, howling up from the outer gullies.
* * * * *
The Officer of the Day was waiting at the north end of the wall.
There was a ladder dropped over it now, and men were climbing up and
down with bodies and sheaves of recovered spears. More were busy down
below, rolling the dead Piruts and the shags down into the deep gullies
for the scavenger rats and the living shags who didn't mind turning
cannibal.
That ladder made Kirk think of Pa. It was the only way for a man to get
into the outer gullies from the west escarpment of the colony. He shook
some of the queer heaviness out of his head, touched his forelock and
said:
"I'm Wes Kirk, sir. You wanted me?"
"Yes." The O.D. was also the Third Officer. Taller than Kirk, thinner,
with the hair going grey on his body and exhausted eyes sunk deep under
his horny overlids. He said quietly:
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this...."
Kirk knew. The knowledge leaped through him. It was strange, to feel a
spear-stab where there was no spear.