"The dog—where is she?" "Find her," she challenged again. "Find her and kill her—if you can!" He stepped past her and went on his way. She had told him what he wanted to know: despite her attempts not to do so she had been unable to keep from glancing toward the ship. His route took him by the little girl. She was standing by the hole, small and bare-footed in the grass, her hands holding the white cord that was black and charred on one end. She was crying, silently, as though too proud to let him see her break. After he had passed her the vision went with him for a little way; the terrible, helpless hatred and hurt in her eyes and the moonlight gleaming coldly on her tears. He looked back when he reached the ship. Gorman was coming, running, and the other three were turning back from the far end of the camp to hurry after Gorman. He looked toward Curry's camp and saw Curry watching him. Curry and his men moved toward him and there were six to make a rendezvous with him. The truce was over. He found the dog behind the farthest tail fin, leashed to a thorny bush and almost invisible in the shadows. She watched him as he stopped before her, her ears forward questioningly and her tail moving a little with tentative friendliness. He spoke to her and her reply was a low bark, her tail whipping with delight. She thought he had come to release her.... He had known dogs well as a boy and he knew the one before him was not mad. He heard Gorman's feet plodding fast through the grass and he waited with his blaster in his hand. Gorman came around the tail fin, panting, his own blaster in his hand. The dog went rigid at the sight of him, the growl in her throat, and Gorman's blaster swung toward her. "Hold it!" he ordered. Gorman paused, and the dead eyes looked into his. "There the mad dog is—we must kill it." "We can kill it later if it's mad. We'll watch it a while, first." The suspicion became like something almost tangible about Gorman and his blaster started the first movement toward Thane.
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