g out. I've got the devil of a job before me,
though. I can't spend but so 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
future 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 also 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
spaceship'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 were 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 or
might not be picked up, and were unlikely to be acknowledged. But he
settled down with the communicator to make the attempt.

He called first on a GC wave length and form. It was unlikely that
blueskins would use general communication bands to keep in touch with
each other, but it had to be tried. He broadcast, tuned as broadly as
possible, and went up and down the GC spectrum, repeating his warning
painstakingly and listening without hope for a reply.

He did find one spot on the dial