owling
with impatience when he accidentally touched the release button on the
medikit and it dropped into his hand. The shining gadget seemed to
please him, but when one of the sharp needles slipped through his
thick hand-coverings and stabbed him he howled with rage, throwing the
machine down, and grinding it into a splintered ruin in the sand. The
loss of this irreplaceable device goaded Jason into motion, he sat up
and was trying to reach the medikit when unconsciousness surged over
him.

* * * * *

Sometime before dawn the pain in his head drove him reluctantly back
to awareness. There were some foul-smelling hides draped over him that
retained a little of his body heat. He pulled away the stifling fold
that covered his face and stared up at the stars, cold points of light
that glittered in the frigid night. The air was a stimulant and he
sucked deep gasps of it that burned his throat but seemed to clear his
thoughts. For the first time he realized that his disorientation had
been caused by that crack on the head he had received when the ship
crashed; his exploring fingers found a swollen rawness on his skull.
He must have a brain concussion, that would explain his earlier
inability to move or think straight. The cold air was numbing his face
and he willingly pulled the hairy skin back over his head.

He wondered what had happened to Mikah Samon after the local thug in
the horror outfit had bashed him with the club. This was a messy and
unexpected end for the man after he had managed to survive the crash
of the ship. Jason had no special affection for the under-nourished
zealot, but he did owe him a life. Mikah had saved him after the
crash, only to be murdered himself by this local assassin. Jason made
a mental note to kill the man just as soon as he was physically up to
it, at the same time he was a little astonished at his reflexive
acceptance of the need for this blood-thirsty atonement of a life for
a life. Apparently his long stay on Pyrrus had trodden down his normal
dislike for killing except in self-defense and from what he had seen
so far of this world the Pyrran training would certainly be most
useful. The sky showed gray through a tear in the hide and he pushed
it back to look at the dawn.

Mikah Samon lay next to him his head projecting from a covering fur.
He hair was matted and caked with dark blood, but he was still
breathing.

"Harder to kill than I thought," Ja