He prepared a belt pouch with flint and tinder, cutting glass, and a few odds and ends. He folded up a complete suit of buckskins. He made a pack of these and two kill-clubs.

When Terl came back later in the evening and opened the cage door, Jonnie rapidly moved in what Chrissie would need. She could smoke beef and work with hides. It would keep them busy. He took the packet she had prepared.

“You will be all right, Jonnie?" she asked.

He didn't feel like smiling, but he smiled. "I’ll make it my first business in all cases,” he said. “Now don't you worry. Put some of that tallow on Pattie's neck and it will help the chafing.”

“Come on,” said Terl irritably, outside the cage.

“How do you like the glass to cut things with?” said Jonnie.

Chrissie said, “It is very good if you don't cut yourself.”

“Well, be careful.” “Hey,” said Terl.

Jonnie gave Pattie a kiss on the cheek. “Now you take good care of your sister, Pattie.”

He put his arms around Chrissie and hugged her. “Please don't worry.”

“For crap, come out of that cage,” said Terl.

Chrissie's hand trailed down Jonnie's arm. He drew away until only their fingers were touching.

“Be careful, Jonnie." Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

Terl yanked him out and banged the cage door behind him. While Jonnie closed the wood barrier, Terl turned on the juice.

“At dawn,” said Terl, “I want you down at the landing field ready to go. Personnel Freighter Ninety-One. Wear decent clothes and boots that won't stink the ship up. Bring your air pump and plenty of bottles and an extra mask. Is that understood, animal?” He rumbled off, practically trotting. Terl was a busy fellow these days. The ground-shake died out.

Later Jonnie picked some wild flowers and berries in the dark and tried to throw them between the bars. But the electric current simply arced and sizzled them before they could get through. It made things seem even worse.

He went to bed at last, dispirited, certain that the future was going to be very rough, if not fatal.

They were aloft at last, flying just to the east of north, rising rapidly to an altitude of over ten miles. Terl loomed over the control panel, silent and withdrawn. Jonnie sat at the copilot console, the seat belt wrapped around him twice, air mask tending to mist. It was growing very cold in the flight cab.

They were late getting off because Terl had personally gone over every fitting and unit of the plane as though suspicious that someone might have sabotaged it. The actual ship number was eighteen digits long and only ended in ninety-one. It was an old ship, a cast off from some war on some other planet, and it showed its scars in dents and sears. It had a forward flight compartment like any freighter, but it was armored and fitted with batteries of air-to-air and air-to-ground blast guns.

The huge body of the plane, now empty, was fitted to carry not ore but fifty company attack troops-there were huge benches, bins for supplies, racks for their blast guns. There were many ports, all armored. The plane had not carried troops or even been flown for ages.

Seeing that breathe-gas compression would be off in the compartment, Jonnie had thought it might be better to ride there, but Terl put him in the copilot seat. Now he was glad. This altitude probably had little air in it, and the cold was seeping into the cab with icy fingers.

Below them the mountains and plains spread out, apparently not moving at any great speed even though the plane was well above hypersonic.

Soon Jonnie knew he was looking at the top of the world. Pale green misty sea and white vastnesses of ice were all across the northern horizon. They were not going to cross the North Pole, but nearly.

The chattering console computer was rolling itself out a tape of their successive positions. Jonnie looked at it. They were turning in a curve to head more easterly.

“Where are we going?” said Jonnie. Terl didn't answer for some time.

Then he yanked an Intergalactic Mining chart of the planet from a seat pocket and threw it at Jonnie. “You're looking at the world, animal. It 's round.”

Jonnie unfolded the chart. “I know it's round. Where are we going?”

“Well, we're not going up there,” said Terl, pointing a talon toward the north. “That's all water in spite of its looking solid. Just ice. Don't never land there. You'd freeze to death.”

Jonnie had a chart open. Terl had drawn a red, curving course line from the area of departure, up across a continent, then across a large island and then down to the top of another island. Typical of a mining map, it was all in numbers and without names. He translated rapidly in his head back to Chinko geography. Using ancient names, the course lay up over Canada, across the top of Greenland, past Iceland and down to the north tip of Scotland. On the mine map,

Scotland was 89-72– 13.

After punching in a new series of coordinates, Terl put the ship on automatic and reached back of his seat for a container of kerbango. He slurped some into his container cover and chewed it down.

“Animal,” said Terl above the roar of the ship, “I am about to recruit fifty man-things."

“I thought we were almost gone.”

“No, rat brain. There are some groups in various inaccessible places on the planet.”

“And,” said Jonnie, “having gotten them, we are going to take them back to the 'defense base.' "

Terl looked at him and nodded. “And you're going to help.”

"If I’m going to help, maybe we better talk over how we are going to do this.”

Terl shrugged. “Simple. There's a village up in the mountains where you see that red circle. This is a battle plane. We just dive in with stun blasts and then walk around and load the ones we want aboard.”

Jonnie looked at him. No.

Hostile, Terl said, “You promised-”

“I know what I promised. I’m saying 'no' because your plan won't work.”

“These guns can be set to 'stun.' They don't have to be put on a 'kill' setting.”

“Maybe you better tell me what these men are going to do,” said Jonnie.

“Why, you're going to train them on machines. I thought you could figure that out yourself, rat brain. You've been ferrying the machines. So what's wrong with this plan?”

“They won't cooperate,” said Jonnie.

With a frown, Terl studied that. Leverage, leverage. It was true that he wouldn't have leverage. “We'll tell them that if they don't cooperate we'll shoot up their village for keeps.”

“Probably,” said Jonnie. He looked at Terl with disgust and laughed.

It stung Terl. Jonnie was sitting back now, looking at the map. Jonnie saw that they were avoiding a minesite located in the southwest of England. He wagered with himself that Terl would come down to wave top in the last run into Scotland.

“Why won't it work?” demanded Terl.

"If I’ve got to train them, you better let me walk in and get them.”

Terl barked a laugh. “Animal, if you walked into that village they would drill you like a sieve. Suicide! What a rat brain!”

"If you want any help from me,” said Jonnie, offering the map, “you'll land up here on this mountain and let me walk in the last five miles.”

“And then what will you do?”

Jonnie did not want to tell him. "I’ll get you fifty men.”

With a shake of his head, Terl said, “Too risky. I didn't spend over a year training you just to have to start all over!” Then he realized he might have said too much. He looked suspiciously at Jonnie, thinking: the animal must not consider itself valuable.

“Crap!” said Terl. “All right, animal. You can go ahead and get yourself killed. What's one animal more or less? Where's the mountain?”

Well short of northern Scotland, Terl brought the personnel freighter down to wave top. They skimmed the gray-green water, eventually roared up the side of a cliff, shot inland battering the scrub and trees, and came to a halt under the shoulder of a mountain.