re. Do you think you can stand
the sun if I carry you?"

"No, but I won't feel any better staying here." She was
light-headed, scarcely aware of what she said. "Keep going, I guess.
Keep going."

As soon as she was out of the shadow of the rock the sunlight burst
over her again in a wave of hot pain. She fell unconscious at once.
Brion picked her up and staggered forward. After a few yards, he
began to feel the pull of the sand. He knew he was reaching the end
of his strength. He went more slowly and each dune seemed a bit
higher than the one before. Giant, sand-scoured rocks pushed through
the dunes here and he had to stumble around them. At the base of
the largest of these monoliths was a straggling clump of knotted
vegetation. He passed it by--then stopped as something tried to
penetrate his heat-crazed mind. What was it? A difference. Something
about these plants that he hadn't noticed in any of the others
he had passed during the day.

It was almost like defeat to turn and push his clumsy feet backwards
in his own footprints; to stand blinking helplessly at the plants.
Yet they were important. Some of them had been cut off close to the
sand. Not broken by any natural cause, but cut sharply and squarely
by a knife or blade of some sort. The cut plants were long dried and
dead, but a tiny hope flared up in him. This was the first sign that
other people were actually alive on this heat-blasted planet. And
whatever the plants had been cut for, they might be of aid to him.
Food--perhaps drink. His hands trembled at the thought as he dropped
Lea heavily into the shade of the rock. She didn't stir.

His knife was sharp, but most of the strength was gone from his
hands. Breath rasping in his dried throat, he sawed at the tough
stem, finally cutting it through. Raising up the shrub, he saw
a thick liquid dripping from the severed end. He braced his hand
against his leg, so it wouldn't shake and spill, until his cupped
palm was full of sap.

It was wet, even a little cool as it evaporated. Surely it was
mostly life-giving water. He had a moment's misgiving as he raised
it to his lips, and instead of drinking it merely touched it with
the tip of his tongue.

At first nothing--then a searing pain. It stabbed deep into his
throat and choked him. His stomach heaved and he vomited bitter
bile. On his knees, fighting the waves of pain, he lost body fluid
he vitally needed.

Despair was worse than the pain. The plant jui