He was on his horse and riding before he remembered he'd meant to apologize for the chickens.

Zeth took the back trail out of Fort Freedom, up around the hills and over by the Old Farris Homestead. They still grew mushrooms in the tunnels his parents had built, but there was nobody there today. Before long he found himself on the border overlook. The last time he'd been here, Abel Veritt had told him the adults' secret—and Marji had come.

Star grazed happily and Patches chased rabbits while Zeth climbed onto a rock and stared morosely out into Gen Territory. Somewhere out there Owen was adventuring, and here Zeth sat, tied to within an hour's ride of home in case he should go into changeover. Shen!

"Shen!" He said it aloud. He'd been such a silly child to think he was really that near changeover. He'd probably be Gen after all, and the Companion Owen could never be. Then how would Owen feel about him? Whether he became Sime or Gen, he was losing his only friend.

He let himself cry, until he felt Star's nose nudging his wet cheek. Reaching up, he buried his face in her warmth, apologizing over and over for leaving her saddled and uncombed. Patches came back from his rabbit chase and added his licking to Star's attentions. "I'm all right," Zeth assured them. "I won't forget my responsibilities again. Honest."

A few days later, news reached them that two of the largest bands of Raiders had joined forces with a band from some other Territory. The three bands had picked one section of the Territory clean, and were now heading this way.

Furious activity sprouted up—last-minute attempts to get in the late crops, hammers reinforcing the stockade at Fort Freedom, windows being boarded up, troops practicing battle formation on the green.

Zeth overheard his mother and father coming home late that night. "We'll just have to stand them off alone," said Rimon Farris grimly.

"I just don't see how they could refuse our request for troops," said his mother. "We're a county and we pay our taxes—it's got to be illegal, what they're doing to us."

"Probably, but that doesn't change anything. Tomorrow we move valuables and crucial supplies out to the Old Homestead, and prepare shelter for the children there. Everyone else is to meet at the Old Fort at the first sign of Raiders."

So Zeth found himself ignominiously herded with all the little kids into the tunnels that honeycombed the hill under the house in which he'd been born. Jana, Owen's sister, was the oldest child in the group, but ever since Zeth had thrown her out of Owen's room, he'd felt more grown up than she was. And he was finally as tall as Jana.

Mrs. Veritt was lookout for the children—someone had to do it, and her love of children made it acceptable to her to be away from the fighting. Zeth knew she feared for her husband. So did he. His own parents, and the other channels and Companions, wouldn't be fighting—they'd be healing the wounded. Abel Veritt, though, would be right out in front, wielding his whip with that astonishing skill he'd learned in his days as a Freehand Raider. Old as he was, he'd never let younger men fight without him.

As Mrs. Veritt's tension communicated itself to Zeth, he thought for the first time of a future without Mr. Veritt. When Marji had almost killed her grandfather, Zeth had felt sheer terror, and then intense relief when Uel was able to revive him. The possibility of Fort Freedom without Abel Veritt had not been forced on him then, as it was now.

It wasn't that he had not known death, even among people close to him. The first time Zeth could remember was when Willa Veritt, Jord's wife, died. Then later, Owen and Jana's mother, Carlana Erick.

But some people seemed . . . immortal. His father would always be there, and his mother, and Abel Veritt. Without them, how could there be a Fort Freedom?

As tension mounted with waiting, Zeth felt more and more restless. Mrs. Veritt spent most of her time atop the hill above the old sod house, scanning the trails. In direct charge of the children was Wik, the Gen boy Mr. Veritt had taken from the

pens the day Owen returned from his first trip out-Territory. Wik was an astonishment to everyone. Only four months free of the drugs that inhibited the mental development of pen-grown Gens, he had already learned to talk and to ride, and just before being assigned this task he had given transfer for the first time. Therefore he had to stay inside the heavily insulated house, lest his strengthening field attract scouting Raiders.

Wik took his first leadership assignment seriously, scolding the children if they climbed the hill or wandered into the tunnels. He couldn't seem to understand childish energy and curiosity—well, he never had a childhood, Zeth told himself as he tried to be patient with Wik.

When the bell from Fort Freedom sounded through the cold air one bright morning, Zeth's heart gave a painful leap. If only he could zlin! If only he were grown up, and could be down there fighting!

He avoided Wik and Jana and followed Mrs. Veritt to where they could see the Old Fort. It was so far away that only the fact that people were riding in from both the New Homestead and the town could be discerned. In the rising clouds of dust, it was impossible to make out individuals.

Watching the gathering, Zeth didn't notice the yellowish cloud on the southeast horizon until Mrs. Veritt whispered, "God help us!" Then he realized storms never came from that direction. The cloud was the dust of the largest alliance of Freeband Raiders the Territory had ever seen.

The Fort had been preparing for weeks. The walls were strong and well defended . . . but Freeband Raiders berserk with killust would swarm over them, not caring if they died . . . and some would get through. As the cloud grew, Zeth's heart sank.

So many—ranks upon ranks of killer Simes, headed for the border—for Gen Territory—destroying anything that aroused their lust for pain and fear. When they finished with Fort Freedom, they'd plunge across the border—and find Mountain Chapel . . . and Owen.

As the dust settled around the Old Fort, Zeth saw the futility of their preparations. They had to wait for the Raiders to come to them. If only they had Gen guns, to cut them down at a distance—

"Zeth, go inside with the other children," said Mrs. Veritt

distractedly. The worry in her voice cut through Zeth like a knife.

And in that instant, his plan came to him, full-blown. "Yes, ma'am," he said meekly, and started back toward the Old Homestead, not daring to look back to see if Mrs. Veritt followed him until he approached the open door to the old house. From inside, he heard Wik call, "Zeth?" For a moment, he thought he was trapped, but when the Gen didn't come out after him, he realized he was searching the tunnels for him.

He had to hurry, before Wik got Mrs. Veritt to zlin for him. He ran down the hill and across the trail, then along the creek to the old threshing floor. There, out of sight of the trail, was an old barn housing the horses and wagons that had brought the children out here.

Zeth saddled Star, and led her through the creek, angling through the brush to meet the trail. Then he swung into the saddle and urged Star up the hill to the border.

All Fort Freedom's children knew the way to Mountain Chapel—but Zeth's heart pounded with trepidation as he kicked his heels into Star's sides. As he passed irrevocably beyond the point where Simes could safely follow him, doubts rose. He had never felt so alone in his life. Although he was dressed warmly, his woolen cap pulled down over his ears, he shivered in the crisp air.

I'm going to Mountain Chapel, he instructed himself firmly. Then out loud to Star he said, "We're going to get the Gens with their guns to come and drive the Raiders from Fort Freedom." If not for their relatives, he figured, they'd do it to keep the Raiders from reaching their own homes.