Judy came and stood beside them. "They might be good to eat. They might even be domesticable, if anyone ever colonizes this planet some day--save the trouble of importing food animals and beasts of burden from Earth."

Watching the slow, flowing movement of the herd over the grey-green turf, MacAran thought it was a tragedy that man could only see animals in terms of his own needs. But hell, I like a good steak as well as anyone, who am I to preach? And maybe within a few weeks they would be gone, and the herd animals, whatever they were, could remain unmolested forever.

They set up a camp on the slope in the midst of the drizzle, and Zabal set about making a fire. Camilla said, "I've got to get to the hilltop at sunset and try to find a line of sight to the ship. They're showing lights to establish sightings."

"You couldn't see anything in this rain," MacAran said sharply. "Visibility's about half a mile now. Even a strong light wouldn't show, Get inside the dome, you're drenched!"

She whirled on him. "Mister MacAran, need I remind you that I do not take my orders from you? You are in charge of the exploration party--but I'm here on ship's business and I have duties to perform!" She turned away from the small plastic dome-shaped tent and started up the slope. MacAran, cursing all stubborn female officers, started after her.

"Go back," she said sharply, "I've got my instruments, I can manage."

"You just said I'm in charge of this party. All right, damn it, one of my orders is that no one goes off alone! No one--and that includes the ship's first officer!"

She turned away without speaking again, forging up the slope, hugging her parka hood around her face against the cold, driving rain. It grew heavier as they climbed, and he heard her slip and stumble in the underbrush, even with the strong headlight she carried. Catching up with her, he put a strong hand under her elbow. She moved to shake it off, but he said harshly, "Don't be a fool, Lieutenant! If you break an ankle we'll all have to carry you--or turn back! Two can find a footing, maybe, where one can't. Come on--take my arm." She remained rigid and he snarled, "Damn it, if you were a man I wouldn't ask you politely to let me help--I'd order it!"

She laughed shortly. "All right," she said, and gripped his elbow, their two headlights playing on the ground for a path. He heard her teeth chattering, but she did not speak a word of complaint. The slope grew steeper, and on the last few yards MacAran had to scramble up ahead of the girl and reach downward to pull her up. She looked round, searching for the direction; pointed where a very faint glimmer of light showed through the blinding rain.

"Could that be it?", she said uncertainly, "The compass direction seems about right."

"If they're using a laser, yes, I suppose it might show this far, even through the rain." The light blotted out, gleamed briefly, was wiped out again, and MacAran swore. "This rain's turning to sleet--come on, let's get down before we have to slide down-on ice underfoot!"

It was steep and slippery, and once Camilla lost her footing on the icy leafmold and slid, rolled and floundered to a stop against a great tree trunk; she lay there half-stunned until MacAran, flashing his light around and calling, caught her in his beam. She was gasping and sobbing with the cold, but when he reached a hand to help her up she shook her head and struggled to her feet. "I can manage. But thank you," she added, grudgingly.

She felt exhausted, utterly humiliated. She had been trained that it was her duty to work with men as an equal and in the usual world she knew, a world of buttons to push and machines to run, physical strength was not a factor she had ever had to take into account. She never stopped to reflect that in all her life she had never known any physical effort greater than gymnastics in the exercise room of the ship, or a space station; she felt that she had somehow failed to carry her own weight, she had somehow betrayed her high position. A ship's officer was supposed to be more competent than any civilian! She trudged wearily along down the steep slope, setting her feet down with dogged care, and felt the tears of exhaustion and weariness freezing on her cold cheeks.

MacAran, following slowly, was unaware of her inward struggle, but he felt her weariness through her sagging shoulders. After a moment he put his arm around her waist, and said gently, "Like I said before, if you fall again and get hurt badly we'll have to carry you. Don't do that to us, Camilla." He added, hesitatingly, "You'd have let Jenny help you, wouldn't you?"

She did not answer, but she let herself lean on him. He guided her stumbling steps toward the small glow of light through the tent. Somewhere above them, in the thick trees, the harsh call of a night-bird broke through the noise of the beating sleet, but there was no other sound. Even their steps sounded odd and alien here.

Inside the tent MacAran sagged, gratefully taking the plastic cup of boiling tea MacLeod handed him, stepping carefully to where his sleeping bag had been spread beside Ewen's. He sipped at the boiling liquid, brushing ice from his eyelids, hearing Heather and Judy making cooing sounds over Camilla's icy face, bustling around in the cramped quarters and bringing her hot tea, a dry blanket, helping her out of her iced-over parka. Ewen asked, "What's it doing out there--rain? Hail? Sleet?"

"Mixture of all three, I'd guess. We seem to have lucked right into some kind of equinoctial storm, I'd imagine. It can't be like this all year round."

"Did you get your reading?" At MacAran's affirmative nod, he said, "One of us should have gone, the Lieutenant's not really up to that kind of climb in this weather. Wonder what made her try?"

MacAran looked across at Camilla, huddled. under ablanket, with Judy drying her wet, tangled hair as she sipped the boiling tea. He said, surprising himself, "Noblesse oblige."

Ewer nodded. "I know what you mean. Let me get you some soup. Judy did some great things with the ration. Good to have a food expert along."

They were all exhausted and talked little of what they had seen; the howling of the wind and sleet outside made speech difficult in any case. Within half an hour they had downed their food and crawled into their sleeping bag. Heather snuggled close to Ewen, her head on his shoulder, and MacAran, just beyond them, looked at their joined bodies with a slow, undefined envy. There seemed a closeness there which had little to do with sexuality. It spoke is the way they shifted their weight, almost unconsciously, each to ease and comfort the other. Against his will he thought of the moment when Camilla had let herself rest against him, and smiled wryly in the dark. Of all the women is the ship she was the least likely to be interested in him, and probably the one he disliked most. But damn it, he had to admire her!

He lay awake for a time, listening to the noise of wind in the heavy trees, to the sound of a tree cracking and crashing down somewhere is the storm--God! It one fell on the tent, we'd all be killed--to strange sounds which might be animals crashing through the underbrush. After a while, fitfully, he slept, but with one ear opera, hearing MacLeod gasping in his sleep and moaning, once hearing Camilla cry out, a nightmarish cry, then fall again into exhausted sleep. Toward morning the storm quieted and the rain ceased and he slept like the dead, hearing only through his steep the sounds of strange beasts and birds moving in the righted forest and on the unknown hills.