THREE

The travel strip overlooked a spacious lawn adorned with neatly trimmed

hedgerows and stately trees. Behind the gleaming waters of a fountain

three peacocks walked to and fro, their tails spread resplendently in

the dawn light. There was only one dwelling visible from the strip, the

white stone residence of an agricultural supervisor.

In the near distance there loomed a stretch of open countryside, the

bright waters of a small lake and several acres of densely forested

woodland. A long range of distant hills was also visible from the

strip, their domed summits sparsely covered with tall firs and hemlocks

and scrub oaks that grew in circular clusters.

At the edge of the moving strip there was a thirty foot drop, straight

down to soft grass and earth spongy enough to cushion the jolt of a

carefully calculated leap and diminish the risk of a sprained ankle

or an even more serious injury. But the risk could not be lightly

dismissed, and Teleman hesitated for an instant, holding Alicia very

tightly to him.

"We've got to chance it," she whispered. "We've no choice."

"All right," Teleman said. "I'll go first."

He kissed her. She returned the kiss with fervor, pushing her lips hard

against his mouth and running her fingers through his hair. She let out

a long sigh when he released her and moved quickly to the edge of the

strip, measuring with his eyes the distance from strip-edge to grass,

getting the feel of the distance.

"Don't tighten up too much," he said. "Leap out just a little and tell

yourself you're going to land on your feet. Watch how I do it."

"Don't worry, darling. I'll make it."

"It won't hurt to be sure. All right--here I go."

He leapt out and down, landing on his feet. But the jolt was severe,

throwing him off balance. He sprawled forward on the grass, picked

himself up and stared up in concern, rubbing his right shoulder

vigorously and flexing his knees.

The slight stiffness and bruised feeling evaporated almost immediately,

but not his alarm. "Wait," he shouted. "It shook me up a bit. I'm going

to catch you. Do you hear? Catch you in my arms. That's the best way."

"I'm lighter than you are!" she shouted back. "I won't land so heavily."

"I still think--"

"No, darling. Here I come."

His breath caught in his throat when he saw her spinning through the

air. But she landed without mishap, and with a lightness which a

professional acrobat would have envied. She swayed a little but did

not fall, and she was smiling when he reached her side. He took her

in his arms and they remained motionless for an instant, breathing

harshly, their hands entwined. Then she buried her face in the muscular

rib-cavern of his chest and clung to him in a fierce and impatient way,

as if even in that moment of great danger she would have welcomed the

coming of the night.

There was a stirring in his loins and a restless tide of passion surged

through him. But he contented himself with stroking her hair and

whispering words of reassurance.

"We've got to keep moving. Agricultural supervisors don't go about

armed so I'm not worried about being stopped before we reach the

forest. Probably he's indoors sleeping. If he comes to the door I'll

tell him we've got a hunting permit. If he demands to see it, a blow to

the jaw will give us all the time we'll need."

He took her firmly by the shoulders and held her at arm's length, a

warm gratefulness in his eyes. "We've got to keep moving," he said.

"I haven't time to say all the things I'd like to say to you, not one

small part of all the wonder-talk. Do you understand? The guilt feeling

is gone, washed away."

She nodded, her eyes shining. "No regrets, darling. I'm glad for both

of us."

They moved swiftly in the dawn light, across the wide lawn and between

the towering trees, sending the gold and emerald peacocks fluttering

into the shadows of titan oaks and cedars, their own smaller shadows

lengthening on the dew-bright grass.

Teleman straightened in sudden wariness as they drew near to the

white-stone dwelling of the supervisor. He reached out and took his

companion's hand, and they moved with even swifter steps past the east

wall of the building. No one appeared in the doorway and there was no

stir of movement behind the half-shuttered windows with their orange

awnings and projecting sills.

Then the dwelling was behind them and they were moving across a stretch

of open woodland, weaving in and out between tumbled, lichen-encrusted

boulders and the gray, bark-denuded boles of century-old trees. One

of the larger trees had been lightning-blasted and several were mere

rotting stumps looming ghostlike and isolated against the dark green

foliage of the denser forested region just beyond.

A golden-winged hawk, startled by their approach, arose with a

tumultuous flapping of wings and went soaring southward, and from a

shadowed pool less than twenty feet in diameter there came a sudden

splashing and the hoarse croaking of frogs.

Teleman bent, picked up a small pebble and tossed it into the dark

water, standing motionless as he watched the ripples spread out and

slowly disappear.

"Why did you do that?" Alicia asked, coming to an abrupt halt at his

side. Her hurrying steps had brought a flush to her cheeks and she

spoke almost breathlessly, her eyes wide with alarm.

"The scanners," he said. "The instant she alerts the guards they'll

put scanning beams on us and pinpoint every move we make. They'll know

exactly where we are. But we're safe so far."

"Safe? How can you be sure? You mean that pebble--"

He nodded. "Infra-beam electronics just happens to be part of my

specialty. If they were scanning us now the rhythm of those ripples

would be quite different. You'd get a more pronounced jerkiness--a

jerkiness I've learned precisely how to identify at a glance. That kind

of hair-trigger recognition is part of my job. You can't build a good

bridge without such knowledge. Not even a good bridge, let alone more

complex structures."

"Oh, darling," she whispered. "I'm glad we're both specialists. It may

help us in a far more important way. If we can outguess them all--"

"We have a fighting chance," he said, his fingers tightening on her

hand. He picked up another pebble and tossed it into the stream. The

rhythm of the ripples remain unchanged.

"Love," he whispered. "Our new specialty, my sweet beloved. It's

new, but I think--I think we know more about it right now than they

do. Compared to us, even the love-privileged are jaded, blind to the

bursting wonder, the glory of a fulfillment so complete that it changes

everything we think and say and do. Do you mind if I call you my life

and my bride?"

"Of course not," she breathed, coming into his arms again and drawing

his head down until it rested in the soft hollow between her breasts.

She swayed a little, her eyes closed, her moist red lips parted. Then

she drew in her breath convulsively, and slipped from his embrace,

still caressing him with her eyes.

"We're in the deadliest kind of danger and you're acting like a

moonstruck boy," she said. "Don't you realize--"

"I only know that I love you," he said. "The guilt feeling is gone now,

washed away. I realize we haven't a moment to lose. You don't have to

remind me. But you've changed the world for me and I had to tell you.

I had to make sure that you feel as I do. A man who flees for his life

in a parched wilderness loses nothing if he pauses for an instant to

quench his thirst. When he is renewed and refreshed, more life and

strength flows into him."

"But we'll be much safer when we're deep in the forest," she said.

"They'll still know where we are if they pick us up with the scanners.

But we can weave about, hide in a cave, make it more difficult for them

to overtake us."

"We won't hide," he said. "We'll keep moving until our strength gives

out. There are ways of defeating the scanners. If we can get far enough

away we may be able to disguise ourselves, take on a new identity."

"I don't see how--"

"Just wait and trust me. Talking about it right now will only delay us."

He reached out and took her hand. "You're right about the need for

haste. Come on."

"One more kiss first, darling!"

Her lips burned against his again for an instant. He opened his lips

and her tongue darted like a wet lash into his mouth and her hands

dropped to her side in passionate surrender. She moaned a little and

then pushed him away from her, letting out a long sigh.

"I was the impulsive one that time," she whispered. "Forgive me,

darling."

They were out of breath again from running when they reached the

heavily forested region. The dark barrier of vegetation which loomed

before them cut off two-thirds of the sky and seemed filled with a vast

murmuring, as if a thousand small furry creatures were breathing in

unison while the wind sighed between the trees and owls hooted from the

higher branches.

Quickly they passed into the dark wilderness between the trees,

over areas of moist peat moss and across gigantic, hollow logs

overgrown with ghost-pale creepers that seemed dreamlike and unreal

in the half-light. A faint luminescence streamed from a few of the

ground-hugging fungus growths and there were vapor shrouds everywhere,

hanging suspended in the air and coiling sinuously about the boles of

trees so massive that they resembled redwoods in girth and height, and

conveyed an even more awesome impression of hoary age.

They were perhaps eighty feet beyond the edge of the forest wall, well

within its pulsing heart of darkness, when they heard the thrumming.

It was faint and far-off at first, but it grew steadily louder,

causing Teleman to halt abruptly and stare upward in alarm. High above

his head the interlocking branches formed an almost solid ceiling of

dark green foliage stirred only slightly by gusts and flurries of

wind. Suddenly, as he stared, a gust of unusual force blew two of the

branches apart, revealing a narrow patch of open sky.

Across the patch a shape moved, glinting metallically in the sunlight.

The flying machine hung poised almost directly overhead, like a great,

hovering hawk with its wings wide-spread. It was moving, but slowly,

slowly, as if seeking out prey in the forest aisle, the thrumming of

its twin turbines sounding very much like the steady beating of wings.

The foliage overhead stirred again and the patch of open sky

disappeared.

"They know where we are," Teleman said, standing very still. Alicia

shivered and moved a little closer to him, her lips white. Above their

heads the thrumming sound grew in volume, drowning out all the small

voices of the forest. Almost at their feet a startled hare broke from

cover and went scurrying into the shadows.

"If they're scanning us now it will be easy for them to send a

para-guard after us," Alicia said, her eyes sharpening as she stared

upward. "He'll be carrying a hand-scanner, and a hand-gun. He'll have

no scruples about opening fire."

"They may drop more than one para-guard," Teleman said. "We'd better

head for cover fast!"

He swung about, his gaze sweeping the forest aisle with

detail-observing accuracy. There were several fallen branches directly

in his line of vision, and a thin shaft of downstreaming sunlight

glistened on a tangled mass of vegetation. His lips tightened when he

saw the log. Huge, grayish and half rotted away, it stood out like a

giant's thumb against the clotted greenery.

He gripped Alicia's arm and gestured. "That log looks hollow. If we can

crawl inside it will be as good a blind as any. Hand-scanners aren't

as accurate as big scanners. Not half as accurate. We've got to guard

against being taken by surprise, caught defenseless in the open. If we

can get far enough into that log they'll have to search. It will give

us a breathing spell."

"It's worth trying!" Alicia breathed. "Come on!"

They were half way to the log when they saw the para-guard descending.

There was a glistening high up between the trees and they saw the

dangling, rust-colored boots of the airborne man before his head and

shoulders came into view a hundred feet above the forest floor.

They crawled into the big log on their hands and knees, clearing a

space for themselves by thrusting vigorously with their shoulders and

scooping out handfulls of damp, weevil-shredded wood and clinging

vegetable mold.

They wedged themselves deep into the log, their bodies pressed so

close together that their breaths commingled and they became aware

of each other's heartbeats. Cheek to cheek in stifling darkness they

clung to each other, flesh bruising flesh in an intimacy so strange

and unexpected that for an instant it drove all thought of danger from

their minds.

Lines from a half-forgotten poet in one of the old books flashed into

Teleman's mind, giving that intimacy a timeless aspect, making it seem

eternal.

"Bound limb to limb

And breast to breast,

And I would give my soul for this

To burn forever in burning hell."

It seemed incredible, but they could still breathe. It was almost

suffocatingly cramped in the narrow space into which they had wedged

themselves. But there were eroded patches in the half-decayed wood

which let in the air and by controlling their breathing they could

avoid straining their lungs to bursting and turning and twisting in a

tormented way.

As they clung together time lost all meaning, for moments perhaps

dangerously long. They were only aware of each other's nearness, and

the sweetness of not caring, not even allowing themselves to think and

grow fearful again.

What aroused them to an acute awareness of danger drawing near they

never quite knew. The snapping of a twig in the forest gloom, perhaps,

or the screaming of a bird winging skyward, or the slow, steady clump

of boots where the ground was not soggy and the stillness magnified

sound.

From whatever cause arising, Teleman's alertness became instant and

all-pervasive. Alicia, too, stiffened in alarm, her fingers tightening

on his arm.

"Listen," she whispered. "Did you hear--"

"Be quiet," he warned. "I think he's close to the log. If we stay just

as we are he may pass us by."

Silence for a moment. Then, unmistakably, another sound--a grunt of

anger and frustration close at hand. It came clearly to their ears and

suddenly, to Teleman, further waiting in complete stillness seemed

an affront to his dignity as an angry and embattled man. It was

intolerable and could no longer be endured.

Recklessness and defiance overcame him. He raised his fist and pressed

firmly and with all his strength against the rotting inner surface of

the log. He did not forget to exercise caution, tried not to make a

sound. He knew that he was taking a very great calculated risk, but

a peep-hole was vital. Complete sightlessness was no longer to be

endured.

The wood crumbled under the steady pressure, flaked away in a patch

a little wider than his hand. Sunlight flooded into the log, and the

sudden brightness dazzled him for an instant. Then his vision steadied

and he realized that the brightness was caused by a single shaft of

sunlight slanting downward across the log. Beyond the shaft the forest

was still gloom-enshrouded, bathed in a half-light that made the

flickering shadows seem grotesquely alive, waltzing nightmare shapes

caught up in a _danse macabre_.

In the midst of the shadows a silent, gray-uniformed figure stood with

his back to the log, a hand-gun gleaming at his hip, his heavyset

body, shaven head and bull-like neck giving him an aspect of primitive

brutishness.

Security guards, whether airborne or not, were specialists of an

unusual sort, with a biogenetic heritage of brutal callousness which

made them unique. Callous from birth, they were under compulsion to

exercise restraint, killing only when necessary. They were dangerous

and deadly at all times, accurate in the use of weapons and completely

sure of themselves. But the deadliness had to be triggered by a

Monitor's command, set in motion by desperate men and women in flight.

Pity was alien to their nature, for compassion of any kind seemed

monstrous and abnormal to them and human frailty they could not even

understand. And yet ... there was something quiet, dark and inwardly

tormented about them, a restlessness, an unease, as if they could not

quite bring themselves to believe that they were not as other men.

The figure did not move as Teleman stared, did not even change the

position of his head. There was a small gleaming instrument in his

right hand and the hand was half raised and he seemed to be listening.

Teleman knew that the instrument was a small, portable scanner and

that he was using his eyes alone. Sound did not interest him, and there

was no need for him to listen with his ears.

In a sense, though he _was_ listening, with his entire body, standing

tense and alert, and watching a tiny needle oscillate and vibration

frequencies register on the scanner's luminous dial.

It had to mean that he was overstimulated in a deep, preoccupied way,

caught up in such a trancelike intensity of concentration that it

would take a shout to arouse him or the crash of a falling branch.

He would be unlikely to hear small sounds. The splintering of wood

even--although rotting wood does not splinter and it can be peeled away

in damp fragments or torn loose with a violent wrench.

It wasn't the first time that Teleman had watched a para-guard stand

immobilized and entranced and abnormally on edge, but in an almost

infantile way. The brutish simplicity of their natures predisposed

them to devote all of their energies to one thing at a time, to make

progress slowly and in step-by-step fashion. Now luck--blind luck

perhaps--was making that limitation play directly into his hands. The

para-guard was abnormally preoccupied, and he was facing away from the

log. _He was facing away, his back was turned._

Teleman used both hands to tear a wide gap in the rotting wood. The

decay was not uniform and the outer bark remained firm here and there.

But he managed to rip apart enough of the soggy, flaking wood to clear

a space for his head and shoulders. He widened the gap further by

swaying vigorously from side to side, half propelling, half dragging

himself from the log to the forest floor.

The leaves directly beneath the log cushioned his descent, but did not

crackle as he rose swiftly and agilely to his feet. He turned just as

swiftly, his eyes darting to Alicia's white face framed in the gap, and

pressed a finger to his lips. There was a look of wild startlement in

her eyes but she managed to nod in quick understanding, answering his

look of reassurance with a thin, tight smile.