comfortably closed-in office and waking up on a cliff at theouter edges of nowhere. His hand hurt; he saw that it was bleeding andflexed it experimentally, trying to determine that no tendons had beeninjured. He rapped, "How did this happen?"
"Sir, keep your voice down--or speak Darkovan!"
Jay blinked again. Kendricks was still the only familiar thing in astrangely vertiginous universe. The Spaceforce man said huskily. "Beforeheaven, Jay, I hadn't any idea--and I've known you how long? Eight, nineyears?"
Jay said, "That idiot Forth!" and swore, the colorless profanity of anindoor man.
Somebody shouted, "Jason!" in an imperative voice, and Kendricks saidshakily, "Jay, if they see you--you literally are not the same man!"
"Obviously not." Jay looked at the tent, one pole still unpitched."Anyone in there?"
"Not yet." Kendricks almost shoved him inside. "I'll tell them--I'lltell them something." He took a radiant from his pocket, set it down andstared at Allison in the flickering light, and said something profane."You'll--you'll be all right here?"
Jay nodded. It was all he could manage. He was keeping a tight hold onhis nerve; if it went, he'd start to rave like a madman. A little timepassed, there were strange noises outside, and then there was a politecough and a man walked into the tent.
He was obviously a Darkovan aristocrat and looked vaguely familiar,though Jay had no conscious memory of seeing him before. Tall andslender, he possessed that perfect and exquisite masculine beautysometimes seen among Darkovans, and he spoke to Jay familiarly but withsurprising courtesy:
"I have told them you are not to be disturbed for a moment, that yourhand is worse than we believed. A surgeon's hands are delicate things,Doctor Allison, and I hope that yours are not badly injured. Will youlet me look?"
Jay Allison drew back his hand automatically, then, conscious of thechurlishness of the gesture, let the stranger take it in his and look atthe fingers. The man said, "It does not seem serious. I was sure it wassomething more than that." He raised grave eyes. "You don't evenremember my name, do you, Dr. Allison?"
"You know who I am?"
"Dr. Forth didn't tell me. But we Hasturs are partly telepathic,Jason--forgive me--Doctor Allison. I have known from the first that youwere possessed by a god or daemon."
"Superstitious rubbish," Jay snapped. "Typical of a Darkovan!"
"It is a convenient manner of speaking, no more," said the young Hastur,overlooking the rudeness. "I suppose I could learn your terminology, ifI considered it worth the effort. I have had psi training, and I cantell the difference when half of a man's soul has driven out the otherhalf. Perhaps I can restore you to yourself--"
"If you think I'd have some Darkovan freak meddling with my mind--" Jaybegan hotly, then stopped. Under Regis' grave eyes, he felt a surge ofunfamiliar humility. This crew of men needed their leader, and obviouslyhe, Jay Allison, wasn't the leader they needed. He covered his eyes withone hand.
Regis bent and put a hand on his shoulder, compassionately, but Jaytwitched it off, and his voice, when he found it, was bitter anddefensive and cold.
"All right. The work's the thing. I can't do it, Jason can. You're aparapsych. If you can switch me off--go right ahead!"
* * * * *
I stared at Regis, passing a hand across my forehead. "What happened?" Idemanded, and in even swifter apprehension, "Where's Kyla? She washurt--"
"Kyla's all right," Regis said, but I got up quickly to make sure. Kylawas outside, lying quite comfortably on a roll of blankets. She waspropped on her elbow drinking something hot, and there was a good smellof hot food in the air. I stared at Regis and demanded, "I didn't conkout, did I, from a little scratch like this?" I looked carelessly at mygashed hand.
"Wait--" Regis held me back, "don't go out just yet. Do you rememberwhat happened, Doctor Allison?"
I stared in growing horror, my worst fear confirmed. Regis said quietly,"You--changed. Probably from the shock of seeing--" he stopped inmid-sentence, and I said, "The last thing I remember is seeing that Kylawas bleeding, when we got her clothes off. But--good Gods, a littleblood wouldn't scare _me_, and Jay Allison's a surgeon, would it bringhim roaring up like that?"
"I couldn't say." Regis looked as if he knew more than he was telling."I don't believe that Dr. Allison--he's not much like you--was veryconcerned with Kyla. Are you?"
"Damn right I am. I want to make sure she's all right--" I stoppedabruptly. "Regis--did they all see it?"
"Only Kendricks and I," Regis said, "and we will not speak of it."
I said, "Thanks," and felt his reassuring hand-clasp. Damn it, demigodor prince, I _liked_ Regis.
I went out and accepted some food from the kettle and sat down betweenKyla and Kendricks to eat. I was shaken, weak with reaction.Furthermore, I realized that we couldn't stay here. It was toovulnerable to attack. So, in our present condition, were we. If we couldpush on hard enough to get near Dammerung pass tonight, then tomorrow wecould cross it early, before the sun warmed the snow and we hadsnowslides and slush to deal with. Beyond Dammerung, I knew thetribesmen and could speak their language.
I mentioned this, and Kendricks looked doubtfully at Kyla. "Can sheclimb?"
"Can she stay here?" I countered. But I went and sat beside her anyhow.
"How badly are you hurt? Do you think you can travel?"
She said fiercely, "Of course I can climb! I tell you, I'm no weak girl,I'm a free Amazon!" She flung off the blanket somebody had tucked aroundher legs. Her lips looked a little pinched, but the long stride wassteady as she walked to the fire and demanded more soup.
We struck the camp in minutes. The trailmen band of raiding females hadsnatched up almost everything portable, and there was no sense instriking and caching the tent; they'd return and hunt it out. If we cameback with a trailmen escort, we wouldn't need it anyway. I ordered themto leave everything but the lightest gear, and examined each remainingrucksack. Rations for the night we would spend in the pass, our fewremaining blankets, ropes, sunglasses. Everything else I ruthlesslyordered left behind.
It was harder going now. For one thing, the sun was lowering, and theevening wind was icy. Nearly everyone of us had some hurt, slight initself, which hindered us in climbing. Kyla was white and rigid, but didnot spare herself; Kendricks was suffering severely from mountainsickness at this altitude, and I gave him all the help I could, but withmy stiffening slashed hand I wasn't having too easy a time myself.
There was one expanse that was sheer rock-climbing, flattened like bugsagainst a wall, scrabbling for hand-holds and footholds. I felt it apoint of pride to lead, and I led; but by the time we had climbed thethirty-foot wall, and scrambled along a ledge to where we could pick upthe trail again, I was ready to give over. Crowding together on theledge, I changed places with the veteran Lerrys, who was better thanmost professional climbers.
He muttered, "I thought you said this was a _trail_!"
I stretched my mouth in what was supposed to be a grin and didn't quitemake it. "For the trailmen, this is a superhighway. And no one else evercomes this way."
Now we climbed slowly over snow; once or twice we had to flounderthrough drifts, and once a brief bitter snowstorm blotted out sight fortwenty minutes, while we hugged each other on the ledge, clinging wildlyagainst wind and icy sleet.
* * * * *
We bivouacked that night in a crevasse blown almost clean of snow, wellabove the tree-line, where only scrubby unkillable thornbushesclustered. We tore down some of them and piled them up as a windbreak,and bedded beneath it; but we all thought with aching regret of thecomfort of the camp gear we'd abandoned. The going had gotten good andrough.
That night remains in my mind as one of the most miserable in memory.Except for the slight ringing in my ears, the height alone did notbother me, but the others did not fare so well. Most of the men hadblinding headaches, Kyla's slashed side must have given her considerablepain, and Kendricks had succumbed to mountain-s
ickness in its mostagonizing form: severe cramps and vomiting. I was desperately uneasyabout all of them, but there was nothing I could do; the only cure formountain-sickness is oxygen or a lower altitude, neither of which waspractical.
In the windbreak we doubled up, sharing blankets and body warmth: I tooka last look around the close space before crawling in beside Kendricks,and saw the girl bedding down slightly apart from the others. I startedto say something, but Kendricks spoke, first. Voicing my thoughts.
"Better crawl in with us, girl." He added, coldly but not unkindly,
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