“Now Stak’s people are turning their lights back on. Two of them are coming back toward the set — they’re picking it up and bringing it forward toward the rest of the group. All the lights are well in front with them, so I can see pretty well now. There’s mist blowing past only a few feet — maybe a few inches — up; the new light is up in it a little way. I can’t judge its distance yet at all. The ground has no marks to help; just bare stone, with six Mesklinites flattened down against it, and their lights, and a dark line beyond them which might be different colored rock, or maybe a narrow stream slanting toward them from the far left and going out of sight to my right. Now I get a vague impression of motion around the new light. Maybe it’s around the running light of a helicopter — I don’t know how they’re arranged, or how high off the ground they are when the machine is parked, or how bright they are.

“Now it’s clearer… yes, there’s something moving. It’s coming toward us. Just a dark blob in the mist. It’s not carrying any light. If my guess at distance means anything, which it probably doesn’t, it’s about the same size as the Mesklinites. Maybe it’s Kervenser or Reffel—

“Yes. I’m almost sure it’s a Mesklinite, but still too far away for me to recognize. I’m not sure I’d know either of those two anyway. He’s crossing that line — it must be a stream; some liquid splashed up for a split second into the path of the light — now he’s only a few yards away, and the others are converging on him. They’re talking, but not loudly enough for me to make any of it out. The group is milling around, and I can’t recognize anyone. If they’d come a little closer, I’d ask them who’s there, but I suppose they’ll report pretty soon anyway, and I can’t make them hear through the airsuits unless they’re right beside the set. Now they’re all coming this way, and the bunch is opening out — two of them are right in front of the set; I suppose it’s Stakendee and the one who’s just—”

He was interrupted by a voice which originated beside him. It reach not only his ear, but three open microphones, and through them three different receivers on Dhrawn; and there it produced three very different results.

“Kabremm! Where have you been all these months?” cried Easy.

It really wasn’t quite Kabremm’s fault, though Barlennan was a long time forgiving him,. The transmitter had been away from the lights. When the newcomer had first joined Stakendee’s group he had not been able to see it; later he had failed to notice it; and not until he was within a foot or two did he recognize it. Even then he wasn’t worried greatly; human beings all looked alike to him, he assumed that his own people looked at least as indistinguishable to the humans, and while he would not have put himself deliberately in view, a sudden withdrawal, or any attempt to hide, would have been far more suspicious than staying calmly where he was.

When Easy’s voice erupted from the speaker with his name, it was obviously sixty-four seconds too late to do anything. Stakendee, whose reflex response to the sound was to reach for the shutter on the top of the vision set, realized in time that this would only make matters worse.

What they should do was far from obvious to either of them. Neither was an expert in intrigue, though Mesklin’s culture was no more innocent of political deceit than it was of the commercial variety. Neither was particularly quick-witted.

Kabremm, unlike Dondragmer, approved enthusiastically of the Esket project and of keeping it secret from the aliens. Even the Kwembly’s commander, a straightforward type who would be desirable for the Mesklinite group on Dhrawn to be as completely self-sustaining as [possible; Kabremm and Destigmet not only admitted it but regarded it as the most important of the problems facing the expedition. Barlennan, who had to use this as an excuse and to give the Esket’s crew responsibility for setting up the secret base.

Kabremm was, therefore, horrified at his slip, but utterly unable to think of anything to do about it — at least, anything not likely to conflict with what Barlennan was likely to do when the news reached him. He froze before the transmitter, wondering what would be his best line of action.

Barlennan, who also heard Easy’s cry, was in exactly the same situation. He hadn’t the slightest idea how or why Kabremm had wound up anywhere near the Kwembly, though the incident of Reffel’s communication cutoff had prepared him for something of the sort. Only one of the three dirigibles was employed on the regular shuttle run between the Esket site and the Settlement; the other were under Destigmet’s control and were usually exploring. Still, Dhrawn was large enough to make the presence of one of them in the Kwembly’s neighborhood a distinct surprise.

However, it seemed to have happened. It was simply bad luck, Barlennan assumed — compounded by the fact that probably the only human being in the universe who could possibly have recognized Kabremm by sight had been in a position to see him when the slip occurred.

So the human beings now knew that the Esket’s crew had not been obliterated. No provision had been made for such a discovery; no planned, rehearsed story existed which Barlennan could count on Kabremm’s using. Maybe Dondragmer would fill in — he could be counted on to do his best, no matter what he thought of the whole matter — but it was hard to see what he could do. The trouble was that Barlennan himself would have no idea what Dondragmer said, and would not know what to say himself when questions came, as they surely would, toward the Settlement. Probably the safest tactic was to claim utter ignorance, and ask honestly for as complete a report as possible from Dondragmer. The captain would at least keep Kabremm, who had obviously been playing the fool, from leaking the whole cask.

It was fortunate for Barlennan’s peace of mind that he did not realize where Kabremm had been met. Easy, a few seconds before her cry of recognition, had told him that Benj was reporting something from a Kwembly screen, or he would have assumed that Kabremm had inadvertently stepped into the field of view of an Esket communicator. He knew no details about the search party of Stakendee, and assumed the incident to be occurring at the Kwembly and not five miles away. The five miles was just as bad as five thousand, under the circumstances; communication between Mesklinites not within hooting range of each other had to go through the human linkage, and Dondragmer was in no better position to cover the slip than Barlennan himself. However, the Kwembly’s captain managed to do it, quite unintentionally.

He, too, had heard Easy’s exclamation, much more loudly than Barlennan in view of the woman’s position among the microphones. However, it had been little more than a distraction to him, for his mind was wholly taken up with some words Benj had uttered a few seconds before. In fact, he was so disturbed by them as to do something which everyone at all experience in Dhrawn-satellite communication had long learned not to do. He had interrupted, sending an urgent call of his own pulsing upward to the station while Benj was still taking.

“Please! Before you do anything else, tell me more about that liquid. I get the impression from what you’ve said that there is a stream flowing in the riverbed in view of Stakendee’s vision pickup. If that is the case, please send these orders immediately: Stak, with two men to carry the communicator, is to follow that stream upward immediately keeping you and through you me informed of its nature — particularly, is it growing any larger? The other three are to follow it down to find how close it comes to the Kwembly; when they have ascertained this they are to come in with the information at once. I’ll worry about whom you’ve found later on; I’m glad one of them has turned up. If this trickle is the beginning of the next flood, we’ll have to stop everything else and get life-support equipment out of the ship and out of the valley. Please check, and get those orders to Stakendee at once!”