w." Newlin knew that it was madness to
remain so close to the Spacebell. But he could not force himself to
leave Songeen. She seemed near collapse.

A thought struck him. "Say, is there anything there to tie you up with
this business?"

Songeen gave a wry thrust of her thin shoulders. "Much--but does it
matter? It was my--our home. Before he tricked me outside and would not
let me return. They don't know what happened--yet. But there will be
enough evidence against both of us. Part of what you saw was illusion.
His body is still there. Changed--but the trackers can identify it. The
charge is murder, and they will want both of us. Not just you."

"Come with me." Newlin spoke harshly--sharply.

The girl's eyes flickered. "Are you threatening me?"

"No. It's just that I've led them to you. We're in the same boat now.
With the mechanical hounds on our heels. They will connect you through
me, now that our trails have crossed. And they'll follow both of us. How
will you manage?"

Songeen smiled wearily. "One always takes risks. I came here prepared
for--anything."

"Don't be a fool! Protection Police don't stop to ask questions. They're
hired Killers."

"I suppose not. What do you suggest?"

"Run and hide. Come with me, if you like. But suit yourself. I'm getting
out of here. Out into the wastelands. It's almost dawn now. In the city,
we're lost. Outside, there's a chance. A poor one, but--"

Light was that gray ugliness that precedes the smeary glare of dawn on
Venus. The girl seemed very slight and young and helpless. Again, Newlin
felt that impulse to save and protect her. He could see no details of
feature, even her face was shadowed, and not quite human; but her body
was beautiful, and trembling.

"Are you coming?" he asked, savagely.

"I'll go with you," she said. "You're kind. Perhaps I can _help_ you. If
they corner us, please kill me. I don't like--being hurt."

Newlin laughed grimly. "It's a promise. But I'll kill some of them
first."

"Please," she begged. "No killing--not for me."

* * * * *

Ten hours later, far out in the wastelands, Spud Newlin called a halt.
The girl had trudged wearily behind him, uncomplaining and with patient
determination. They wasted no precious breath in words, and walking had
been doubly difficult for her. The protection armor was twice too large,
and very cumbersome for such a slight figure; but such garments never
come in half-size.