tracks. If your friends
are a meat-getting party from Dara, as I believe, they should cover up
their tracks, get off-planet as fast as possible, and pray that no signs
of their former presence are ever discovered. That would be their best
first move, certainly!"

"What should I do?" she asked helplessly.

"I'm far from sure. At a guess, and for the moment, probably nothing.
I'll work something out ... I've got the devil of a job before me,
though. I can't spend too much time here."

"You can--leave me here...."

He grunted and turned away. It was naturally unthinkable that he should
leave another human being on a supposedly uninhabited planet, with the
knowledge that it might actually be uninhabited, and the further
knowledge that any visitors would have the strongest of possible reasons
to hide themselves away.

He believed that there were Darians here, and the girl in the Med
ship--so he also believed--was a Darian. But any who might be hiding had
so much to lose if they were discovered that they might be hundreds or
even thousands of miles from anywhere a space-ship would normally
land--if they hadn't fled after the incident of the space-ship's
departure with its load of doomed passengers.

Considered detachedly, the odds were that there was again a
food-shortage on Dara. That blueskins, in desperation, had raided or
were raiding or would raid the cattle-herds of Orede for food to carry
back to their home planet. That somehow the miners on Orede had found
that they had blueskin neighbors, and died of the consequences of their
terror. It was a risky guess to make on such evidence as Calhoun
considered he had, but no other guess was possible.

If his guess was right, he was under some obligation to do exactly what
he believed the girl considered her mission, to warn all blueskins that
Weald would presently try to find them on Orede, when all hell must
break loose upon Dara for punishment. But if there were men here, he
couldn't leave a written warning for them in default of friendly
contact. They might not find it, and a search-party of Wealdians might.
All he could possibly do was try to make contact and give warning by
such means as would leave no evidence behind that he'd done so. Weald
would consider a warning sure proof of blueskin guilt.

It was not satisfactory to be limited to broadcasts which might not be
picked up, and were unlikely to be acknowledged. But he settled down
with the communicator to ma