The carm was a mighty servant. It served Kiance the Scientist, and Lawn. Sometimes it went away into the sky with Navy men as its masters. This time it carried Lawn too.

It grated on her nerves that she was not the carm's master here.

Seen through the picture-window bow, the jungle was green, dotted with every color of the rainbow-including overlaid scarlet dots that were heat sources. The Navy pilot pushed the talk button and said, "Let go."

Several breaths went by before Lawn heard, "We're loose."

The pilot touched attitude jet keys. A tide pulled Lawn forward against her straps. Warriors had been clinging to nets outside the hull.

Now they swept into view of the bow window as the cam' decelerated.

A cloud of sky-blue men fell toward undulating clouds of green.

The pilot released the keys after (by Lawri's count) twelve breaths. She'd watched numbers flickering on a small display in front of him. He'd released at zero. And the jungle was no longer moving toward the carm's bow window.

"The savages haven't moved yet," he reported. He was ignoring

Lawn, or trying to; his eyes kept ificking to her and away. He'd made it clear enough: a nineteen-year-old girl had no place here, no matter what the First said. "They're just under the greenery. Are you sure you want

to do this?"

"We don't know who they are." The ancient microphone put a

squawk in the Squad Leader's voice. "If it's just fighters, we'll retreat.

We don't need fighters. If it's noncombatants, hiding-"

"Right."

"Have you found any other heat sources?"

"Not yet. That greenery is a pretty good reflector unless you're looking right into it. We can pick up some meat. Flocks of salmon birds

Squad Leader, I see something off to the side. Something's falling toward the jungle."

"Something like what?"

"Something fiat with people clinging to it."

"I see it. Could they be animals?"

"No. I'm using science," the pilot said.

The display superimposed on the bow window showed scarlet dots

clustered close. Warmer objects-salmon birds, for instance-showed more orange in that display. Ribbon birds showed as cooler: wavy lines of a darker, bloodier red . . . The pilot turned and caught Lawn looking.

"Learned anything, darling?"

"Don't call me darlin&" Lawn said primly/evasively.

"Pardon me, Scientist's Apprentice. Have you learned enough to fly this ship, do you think?"

"I wouldn't like to try it," Lawn lied. "Unless you'd like to teach me?" It was something she wanted very much to try.

"Classified," the pilot said without regret. He returned to his microphone. "That thing hit pretty hard. I'd say it's not a vehicle at all.

Those people may be refugees from some disaster, just what we need for

copsiks. Might even be glad to see us."

"We'll get to you when we . . . can." The Squad Leader sounded

distracted, and with reason. Spindly savages taller than a man ought to be were boiling out of the green cloud, riding yellow-green pods bigger