"Perhaps we could make the doctor's house from here by going on foot very slowly," the symbiont suggested. "At least, shouldn't we try? He would certainly want to examine you in this condition, I'm sure, and even if you haven't recovered by four o'clock you could still talk to the young woman."

"Two miles? Forget it. Besides, if I walked in like this-or more probably crawled in-she'd have to have some explanation."

"I've been thinking about that," the symbiont replied. "If you use her boat, you'll probably have to explain a lot anyway, as you yourself were saying to her father. Also, you can't go alone to do the searching; neither your parents nor the doctor will be available for help much of the time; it's her boat, she'll probably want to go along with us at least part of the time, and we're going to have trouble finding a convincing reason why she shouldn't. Bob, I know you like it much less than I do-after all, I'm merely following a reasonable regulation which can legally be violated if circumstances demand it, while you are quite reasonably afraid of being thought crazy or a liar by people who don't get the story first-hand and with all the evidence; but I am getting resigned to the idea that we're going to need several more of your people in this operation with us-fully informed."

"You can really get away with breaking your regulations?"

"I would have to justify my actions, but we tend to have much respect for the judgment of the man in the field. I have already exercised that discretion with you, the doctor, and your parents, and am not worried about any penalties when we are rescued. I am quite certain that none of you will let out the word in such broadcast fashion as to interfere with the work of any exploring team. I do believe, now, that a few more members of this in-group are going to be needed to save your life-which I regard as much more important than holding certain principles inviolate."

"And you think Jenny is a good prospect?" asked

Bob.

"I don't know. She should be useful; she is clearly intelligent or she could not be doing the work she does for her father. She appears physically strong- she is nearly as tall as you, and I judge not much lighter. If she uses this boat of hers very much, I feel safe in assuming that a reasonable fraction of the weight is muscle. Another point from the work she does-her father evidently trusts her discretion, or she wouldn't be doing.his medical records. Your species has what I consider an exaggerated idea of the importance of privacy in such matters. Think it over- but I think I'm right."

Bob did not think for very long; he fell asleep. This was one of the most inconvenient human habits, from the Hunter's viewpoint. He himself could not sleep in anything like the human fashion; he remained conscious as long as the oxygen supply was adequate. His humanoid hosts on his home world spent less than a tenth of their time in sleep, and the cultural situation was based on this fact and provided activities for the small symbionts during these periods.

When, and if, Bob's medical problem was solved, the Hunter knew that he would have to work out some rather difficult details about their partnership. Presumably the examination team, if it decided to join up with humanity, would have solutions to offer.

At the moment, he could do something. The surrounding vegetation was strange to him-the breeds were always being replaced with new ones by the biological engineers-and there existed a small chance, that something useful in the medical problem might be present. The Hunter extended a fairly large pseudo-pod through the skin of his host's hand and gathered in some of the material, pulling it close against the skin, digesting it, and checking the breakdown products for new materials. A few seemed promising, and samples of their molecules were absorbed through Bob's pores and between the cells: of the inner skin layers for local, very careful testing of their biological effects. The Hunter himself did not leave his own tissue outside for long; sunlight drove him back inside. The Castor C twin suns produced strong ultraviolet only during the aperiodic flare times, and he could stand very little of it.

He devoted the rest of the sleep to investigation. He had to experiment; dangerous as it might be, ignorance was even more so. He increased and decreased hormone secretion, trying to decide when one or another was not only doing a primary job but also affecting the flow of still others.

It was detective work, but he wished he had studied biochemistry more carefully a couple of human lifetimes ago.

Robert Kinnaird woke up with the weakness gone for the moment, but with a brand new trouble to consider. He had not eaten since breakfast, their search not having taken them anywhere near his home, and he had a completely empty stomach, for which the Hunter could vouch. For some reason, however, he was feeling an extreme nausea. The suggestion, even the thought, of eating made him double up, almost out of control. He didn't dare ride in that condition, having no confidence in his ability not to think of food, so |they set off toward the village on foot, wheeling the machine.

After a mile or so the sensation wore off, but since they did not know the cause and couldn't be sure it would not come back, they decided against riding.

The road was wider, with buildings now quite frequent on either side; the Hunter saw and remembered the one which had figured in the flaming climax of their adventure seven years before.

As they approached this structure, a child of about ten or eleven appeared from behind it, watched them, silently until they were in front of him, and then fell in beside them.

The Hunter was curious, but could not take a good look while Bob was keeping his eyes on the ground.

The group walked another hundred yards or so before the youngster spoke. Then he asked abruptly, "What's wrong with the bike?"

"Nothing," answered Bob, looking directly at him for the first time.

"Why aren't you riding it?"

"Why do you care?" The child looked startled at first, then rather resigned.

"No special reason." He didn't quite shrug his shoulders, but somehow gave the impression that he felt like it.

"Just curious. If you don't want to tell me, don't."

Bob pulled himself out of his negative mood and said, "Sorry. I've been having stomach cramps, so I couldn't ride and felt terrible, but I shouldn't take it out on you."

"That's all right. Going to the doctor's?"

"Yes, it seems a good idea. Wouldn't you?"

The conversation dropped. The Hunter had had his good look at the youngster, but hadn't gained much by it. The only even slightly unusual characteristic of the child was his weight. The Ell children tended to run lean, since a high level of physical activity was the accepted thing. This one was not really plump, but by island standards was decidedly heavy for his height. His features and complexion were standard for the island, a mixture of Polynesian and European; his skin was brown, hair black, eyes blue, nose and chin rather sharp. He wore the usual shorts which were equally stylish in or out of the water.

There was simply nothing remarkable about him, and neither Bob nor the Hunter gave him another thought, for a few minutes. Their attention was completely diverted from him when another bicycle pulled up beside them to reveal that their morning's search was over. Kenneth Malmstrom was with them.

"Hi, Bob. Just heading home for lunch? Mine was late, too."

"I'd sort of forgotten about eating," Bob responded. "Been riding all over the place to make myself at home again. I'd like to do the same on the water, maybe tomorrow. Too bad the others aren't with us- and the old boat."