the nose-arm's burrow he selected a slab of smoked. meat ragged with harpoon wounds. "Take your time over breakfast," he instructed them.

"Eat. It's the easiest way to carry provisions-"

"And we burned a lot of energy yesterday," the Grad said. He moved like a cripple to join dave and began tearing into a meter's length of what had been the nose-arm's rib. It made sense to Gavving, and he joined them. The meat had an odd, rank flavor. You could get used to it, he thought, if your life depended on it.

Clave moved among them, gnawing at his huge slab of meat. He sliced a piece off and made Merril take it. He listened to Jiovan describing his symptoms, then interrupted with, "You've got your wind back.

That's good. Now eat," handing him more of the steak. He cut the rest in half for Jayan and Jinny and spent a minute or two doing massage on their shoulders and hips. They winced and groaned.

Presently, when all had eaten something, Clave looked around at his team. "We'll circle to the east and get water half a day after we start. There's no room in here to do warm-up exercises; we'll just have to start moving. So saddle up, citizens. We'll have to 'feed the tree' in the open, and whether you actually feed the tree is up to the tide and the wind. Alfin, take the lead."

Alfin led them on an upward spiral, counterclockwise. Gavving found his aches easing as they climbed. He noticed that Alfin never looked down. Not surprising if Alfin didn't give a damn for those following him-but he never looked down.

Gavving did, and marveled at their progress. Two extended hands would have covered all of Quinn Tuft.

They delayed to repair the Q in a 1xmark. The sun had been horizontal in the east when they started. It was approaching Voy before they reached water-smoothed wood.

A rivulet flowed down a meandering groove. This time there was no natural perch. Nine thirsty citizens pounded spikes into the wood and hung by their lines to drink, wash, soak their tunics, and wring them out.

Gavving noticed dave speaking to Alfin a little way below. He didn't hear what was said. He only saw what Alfin did.

"And suppose I don't?"

"Then you don't." Clave gestured upward, where the rest of them

hung. "Look at them. I didn't choose them. What do I do if one of my citizens turns out to be a coward? I live with it. But I have to know."

Alfin looked white with rage. Not red with fury. There isn't any

"white with rage"; white means fear, as dave had learned long ago. A frightened man can kill. . . but Alfin's hands were clenched on his line, and Clave's harpoon was over his shoulder, easily reached.