He punched me in the ribs with a big thumb as hard as horn. It was all I could do to keep from swinging at him. I never hated a man—or deity—so much. Durham had failed if he had thought to punish him. Polivinosel seemed to be proud of his transformation and had, if I understood him correctly, profited enough by his experience to start a cult. Of course, he wasn’t the first to make a religion of his infirmity.

“How will I be able to bootleg the Brew out?” I asked. “Who cares?” he said. “Your piddling little operations won’t help the spread of the divine Drink much. Leave that up to the rivers of the world and to Mahrud, bull be his name.”

I couldn’t argue with him. He’d have torn the tank off my back. Slowly, I unstrapped it. He helped me by grabbing it and throwing it off into the darkness of the woods.

Immediately, I became so thirsty, I could hardly stand it.

“You don’t want that filthy stuff!” Polivinosel brayed. “Come with me to the Place of the Ass! I have a nice little temple there— nothing fancy, understand, like the Flower Palace of Mahrud, may he be all bull—but it will do. And we do have a good time.”

All this while, he was ogling Alice shamelessly and projecting more than his thoughts. Like all the degenerates in this area, he had absolutely no inhibitions. If I had had a gun, I think I would have shot him then and there. That is, if the cartridges could have exploded.

“Look here,” I said, abandoning caution in my anger. “We’re going where we damn well please.” I grabbed the girl’s wrist. More wrist-grabbing going on lately. “Come on, Alice, let’s leave this glorified donkey.”

Polivinosel loomed in our way. The slightly Mongolian tilt of his eyes made him look more Missouri-mulish than ever. Big and mean and powerful, with the accent on mean.

“Don’t think for a minute,” he bellowed, “that you’re going to get me mad enough to harm you so you can go tell your prayerman to report me to Mahrud! You can’t tempt me into wrath! That would be a mortal sin, mortals!”

Shouting about my not being able to disturb his Olympian aloofness, he put his arm around my neck and with the other hand reached into my mouth and yanked out my upper plate.

“You and your mushmouthing annoy me!” he cried.

He released his choking grip around my neck and threw the plate into the shadows of the forest. I rushed toward the bush where I thought I’d seen the white teeth land. I got down on my hands and knees and groped frantically around, but I couldn’t find them.

Alice’s scream brought me upward. Too fast, for I bumped my head hard against a branch. Despite the pain, I turned back to see what was the trouble and charged through the brush. And I banged my shins hard against some object and fell flat on my face, knocking my breath out.

When I rose, I saw I’d tripped over my own watertank. I didn’t stop to thank whatever gods might be for my good fortune. Instead, I picked the tank up and, running up to them, brought it crashing down against the back of his head. Soundlessly, he crumpled. I threw the container to one side and went to Alice.

“You all right?” I asked.

“Yes-s,” she said, sobbing, and put her head on my shoulder.

I judged she was more frightened and mad than hurt. I patted her shoulder—she had beautifully smooth skin—and stroked her long black hair. But she wouldn’t quit weeping.

But we were always close.” I wanted to hear more, but the immediate situation demanded my attention. I turned Polivinosel over. His heart was still beating. Blood flowed from the gash in the back of his scalp,

not the clear ichor you expect from a god’s veins.

“Type O,” said Alice. “Same as it was before. And don’t worry about him. He deserves to die. He’s a big stupid jerk of a Don Juan who got my sister in trouble and wouldn’t…” She stopped and gasped. I followed her stricken gaze and water had spilled into the dirt. And again I felt

that sudden wrench of thirst. It was purely mental, of course, but that knowledge didn’t make me less dry.

She put her hand to her throat and croaked, “All of a sudden, I’m thirsty.” “There’s nothing we can do about it unless we find a source of uncontaminated water,” I said. “And the longer we stand around talking about it, the thirstier we’ll get.”

The tank was empty. Stopping to check this sad fact, I saw light flash on something beneath a bush. I retrieved my upper plate. With my back toward Alice, I inserted the teeth and, feeling a little more assured, told her we’d better start walking on.

We did, but she still had the water problem on her mind. “Surely, there are wells and creeks that aren’t infected. Only the river is filled with the Brew, isn’t it?”

“If I were sure of that I’d not have taken the watertank,” I was unkind enough to point out. She opened her mouth to reply. But just then we heard voices down the path and saw the flare of approaching torches. Quickly, we stepped into the brush and hid.

The newcomers were singing. Their song owed its music to The Battle Hymn of the Republic, but the words were Latin. It was wretched Latin, for their accent paid allegiance to the beat of the original English meter. It didn’t bother them at all. I doubt if many even knew what they were singing.

“Orientis partibus Adventavit Asinus, Pulcher et Fortissimus, Sarcinis aptissimus. Orientis partibus Adventavit… Eeeeek!” They had rounded the trails bend and discovered their god, bleeding and unconscious.

Alice whispered, “Let’s get out of here. If that mob catches us, they’ll tear us apart.” I wanted to watch, to learn from their behavior how we should act when among the natives. I told her so, and she nodded. Despite our antagonism, I had to admit that she was intelligent and brave. If she was a little nervous, she had good reason to be.

These people didn’t act at all as I’d thought they would. Instead of wailing and weeping, they stood away from him, huddled together, not quite sure what to do. I didn’t see at first what caused their attitude.

Then I realized from their expressions and whispers that they were afraid to interfere in the affairs of a demigod—even one as demi as Polivinosel.

Something made a loud cracking noise down the path behind us. Alice and I jumped, as did the whole group. They took off like a bunch of scared rabbits. I felt like joining them, but I stayed. I did, however, pray that this wouldn’t be another nerve-rocking monster.

It was merely a naked native, a tall lean one with a long thin nose, who looked as if he ought to be teaching in some college. The effect was intensified by the fact that he had his nose in a book. As I’ve said, the moonlight was strong enough for reading, but I hadn’t really expected anyone to take advantage of it.

His scholarly appearance was somewhat marred by the dead squirrel, large as a collie, which hung around his neck and over his shoulders. He had been hunting, I suppose, though I’d never heard of hunting squirrels in the dark. Moreover, he carried no weapons.

All of this, except for the squirrel’s size, was surprising. I’d seen camera shots of the great beasts taken along the Area’s edge.

I watched him closely to see what he’d do when he saw Polivinosel. He disappointed me. When he came to the prostrate form, he did not hesitate or give any sign that he had seen the god except to lift his feet over the outstretched legs. His nose remained dipped in the book.

I took Alice’s hand. “Come on. We’re following him.”