in the remote mountain areas. They did not depend upon hidden caches of food; starvation would never drive them back to the prison compounds. The occupation policy was based upon a false assumption; more than ever it was vitally imperative for Tchassen to reach the coast and report the truth to his superiors.

Tchassen shifted his weapon so that his fingers lay on the firing stud. Tynia stared at him, her eyes wide with terror. In a tight whisper, she said,

"Then you—you're the Earthman, Captain!"

He grinned, admiring her skillful use of emotion. If he hadn't known better, he would have taken her fear for the real thing. Maybe it was; he couldn't be sure, but the facts seemed to add up to only one answer. Tynia laid the groundwork for the killing of Corporal Drein; she herself shot Briggan. And who had been in a better position to tamper with the landing beam for the supply rocket? Who else had a better opportunity to destroy the transmitter in the emergency pillbox? Yet, even in the face of so much evidence, Tchassen gave her the benefit of the doubt! His reasoning might have been colored by the drug he had taken.

With the mouth of his weapon, he nudged her toward the hall. "Go back and pick up the food, Tynia. We're leaving here now."

She clenched her fist over her mouth. "Don't turn me over to them, Captain. Let me go. I've never done you Earth people any harm."

Magnificent acting! No wonder they had sent her to the Nevada station. "We're heading for the coast," he explained.

"The sedan wouldn't go last night; it won't now, either."

"We'll push the car back to the highway. The downgrade is steep enough to make the machine run without power. If that doesn't work, we can always walk."

"It'll be warmer if we wait until daylight."

"And the natives would be here by that time, too, wouldn't they? The glare of the thermal explosion was visible for miles."

"I didn't sleep at all last night, Captain. I don't have the energy to—"

With the dispersal ray, he pushed her along the hall toward the room where she and Briggan had slept in front of the pot-bellied stove. Naturally she would try to keep him there, he thought; he didn't need much more proof of her disloyalty.

Flames from the burning 

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