them."

"Was he dead?" Bart whispered.

"No," Vorongil said quietly.

"Thank God!" It was a heartfelt explosion. Then, apprehensively, "Or did
you kill him?"

"What do you think we are?" Vorongil said incredulously. "Indeed no. His
own men have probably found him by now. I don't imagine he got half as
much radiation as you did."

Bart surveyed the needle in his arm. "Why are you taking all this
trouble if I'm going to be put out of the way?"

"You must have some funny ideas about us," Vorongil said shaking his
head. "That would be a fine way to reward you for saving all of our
lives. No, you're not going to be killed."

"If I had my way--" the old medic began, and suddenly Vorongil flew into
a rage. "Get out!"

The medic went stiffly through the door, and Vorongil stood gazing down
at Bart, shaking his yellowed crest. "I don't know what to say to you.
It was a brave thing you did, but perhaps no braver than you've done all
along. Are you a Mentorian?"

"Only half."

"Strange," Vorongil said, looking into space, "that I could talk to you
as I did by the monument, and you knew what I meant. But, yes, you would
understand." Abruptly, he recalled himself, and his voice was thin and
cold.

"I haven't quite decided what to do. I haven't spoken of this to the
crew yet; the fewer who know about this, the better. I told them you got
a heavy dose of radiation, and you're too sick to see visitors." He
sounded kinder when he said, "It's true, you know. It won't hurt you to
get your strength back."

He went out, and Bart wondered, _Get my strength back for what?_ He lay
back, feeling weaker than he realized. It was a relief to know he wasn't
going to be killed out of hand. And somehow he didn't believe he was
going to be killed at all.

It wasn't like being a prisoner. The medic brought him plenty of food,
urging him to eat--"You need plenty of protein after radiation
burns"--and if he stayed in the bunk, it was only because he felt too
weak to get up. Actually he was suffering from delayed emotional shock,
as well as from radiation. He was content to let things drift.

Inevitably, the time came when he had to think about what he had done.
He had betrayed Montano, he had been false to the men who sent him.

"But they don't know the Lhari," his conscience replied, justifying what
he had done.

_You sided with the Lhari against your own people. You spoilt our
chances of learning about the Lhari fuel catalyst._