"No--Dad--" She knelt beside him on the ground.
"Sorry, Daimya," Wolf said under his breath. He swung, hitting her
cleanly behind the head. The girl collapsed soundlessly, and he slung
her over his shoulder and started on up the hill.
Finally, he cleared the crest. Just beyond it, lying in a tiny meadow
lay the black, unmarked shuttle ship. As he came in view, the port
opened and a man ran toward him. Wolf stumbled, caught his balance,
went on.
"Here," said the crewman, "let me take her."
Silently, out of fatigue, Wolf relinquished his load and stumbled
toward the port. It slid shut behind them, just in time to keep them
from being covered with dirt blown from a hole that suddenly appeared a
yard behind. Wolf caught a glimpse of men appearing at the crest.
Inside the ship, he could hear the thud and clang of the explosive
cartridges detonating uselessly against the permalloy hull. Then the
drives roared their song of power, and the shuttle lifted clear.
* * * * *
The crewmen were more than curious.
"Who the hell's the girl?"
"Got me. Never heard of such a thing."
"Well, I suppose a Raider has a right to pick up a little booty now and
then," another laughed. "They don't have the easiest job in the world."
"Bet she's going to be mad when she wakes up."
"Yeah. Looks like the Raider might be worrying a little about that
right now."
Wolf stood at the forward screen, silently watching the shape of the
mother-ship grow larger and larger until the screen held nothing but
the great black hull.
The crewmen were wrong, he wasn't worried about Daimya's waking. He
could take care of that when the time came.
He was thinking about other things, the things that came to him when he
slept, the faces, the names, the actions, the right and wrong of living
according to what you think is right, no matter what the cost.
But the cost, the cost....
It was so high sometimes, so terribly high.
_This trip_, he thought. A shuttle crew. Five good men, probably the
whole village, eventually. Those who did escape into the hills would
lead a life of fear and pursuit, foraging as they went until finally
they were caught. And worst of all, this was worst of all, and mentally
he saw the list, the list of his responsibilities, the list for which
he would someday have to account.
The bright name of Mayne Landing: victim.
His mind shied away from it.
_Can that be forgiven? Can such a thing ever be forgiven?_
Gray Landing, called Wolf in the underground, turned away from the
forward screen and began to prepare to board the mother-ship.