n chattering scream, he bounded out of the bottom of the basket,
soaring over their heads in a long, flat leap and struck the high knee
at the base of the nearest tree, an immense fan palm. As he hit, his
legs doubled under him, and almost in the same motion he seemed to
rocket straight up into the murky air.

Gaping, Honath looked up after him. The young needlesmith had timed his
course to the split second. He was already darting up the rope from
which the Elevator was suspended. He did not even bother to look back.

After a moment, the basket tipped upright. The impact of Seth's weight
hitting the rope evidently had been taken by the windlass team to mean
that the condemned people were all out on the surface; a twitch on the
rope was the usual signal. The basket began to rise, hobbling and
dancing. Its speed of ascent, added to Seth's took his racing, dwindling
figure out of sight quickly. After a while, the basket was gone, too.

"He'll never get to the top," Mathild whispered. "It's too far, and he's
going too fast. He'll lose strength and fall."

"I don't think so," Alaskon said heavily. "He's agile and strong. If
anyone could make it, he could."

"They'll kill him if he does."

"Of course they will," Alaskon said, shrugging.

"I won't miss him," Honath said.

"No more will I. But we could use some sharp needles down here, Honath.
Now we'll have to plan to make our own--if we can identify the different
woods, down here where there aren't any leaves to help us tell them
apart."

Honath looked at the navigator curiously. Seth's bolt for the sky had
distracted him from the realization that the basket, too, was gone, but
now that desolate fact hit home. "You actually plan to stay alive in
Hell, don't you, Alaskon?"

"Certainly," Alaskon said calmly. "This is no more Hell than--up
there--is Heaven. It's the surface of the planet, no more, no less. We
can stay alive if we don't panic. Were you just going to sit here until
the furies came for you, Honath?"

"I hadn't thought much about it," Honath confessed. "But if there is any
chance that Seth will lose his grip on that rope--before he reaches the
top and they stab him--shouldn't we wait and see if we can catch him? He
can't weigh more than 35 pounds. Maybe we could contrive some sort of a
net--"

"He'd just break our bones along with his," Charl said. "I'm for getting
out of here as fast as possible."

"What for? Do you know a better place?"

"No, but