Steve shook his head. "Ten or fifteen miles is all. Almost out of fuel,
Mr. Gort. You saw how I took her up for only a quick mile swing each
day. He won't get far."
"He'll crash in the desert?"
"Crash or crash-land," Steve said.
Mary sobbed, and bit her lip, and was silent.
"We've got to stop him," Gort said. "And fast. If he gets to the Kumaji,
they'll send down a raiding party and we'll be finished. We could never
fight them off without the protection of our village. Near as I can
figure, there's a Kumaji base fifty miles due north of here. Whiting
knows it too, so that's where he'll be going, I figure. Can't spare more
than a couple of men to look for him, though, in case the Kumaji find
us--or are led to us--and attack."
Steve said, "I should have taken something out of the 'copter every
night, so it couldn't start. I'll go."
Mary came forward boldly. "I have to go. He's my father. If he crashed
out there, he may be hurt. He may be--dying."