Proteus was so surprised that he didn’t know what to do or say. Window had seen—that much was obvious. What Window said was true; so maybe Story’s tales were true, but in a different way. He said, wildly, “I could … say that I pleaded with you not to notify the authorities; or tell them that your communication system went on the blink—”

“He could say that, about the communications,” Story said. “It just might work.”

“Could we trust you to be quiet about the little you do know, or suspect?” Window asked.

“Of course,” Proteus said. “I give you my word.”

Story stared at him. “A few minutes ago, that’s not what you said.”

“I was angry at you, for talking around me. I didn’t mean that I’d really do anything to get you in trouble—”

“Then it’s your choice,” Window said. “Either you return, and we’ll still be taking a chance, or you stay. If you leave, we can only hope that your story is convincing enough. I can have our communications cut temporarily, and let them come here, where we’ll be ready—”

“The men at the dig took care of him till help could arrive,” Story said. “That story would work to our advantage—”

To return home! Proteus was almost sick to his stomach with indecision. Despite his resentments, he kept seeing his mother’s image in his mind’s eye: the green uniform, beautifully severe short hair, the almost military bearing, and yet…. “No,” he shouted. “I won’t be dragged home, even if it means never going back. I won’t go unless it’s the only way that you’ll feel safe, so somebody better think of something!”

“There’s only one place where you’ll be safe if you stay, and where we’ll be safe, no matter what. No one knows where it is but the Tellers,” Window said. “But if you go there with us, then you’ll have to stay and join your fate with ours. Right now there’s no time to explain. You’ll have to go it blind, if you’ve really decided.” He paused, then said quickly, “They’re landing by the outer dig. I see it, mentally.”

Again Proteus thought: his mother, so close. He’d decided to leave home once. Now it seemed he was going to have to make up his mind all over again, while knowing that his mother was only a short distance away. Nothing else had offered this tremendous point of contrast. Yet all the deep feelings that had propelled his initial flight now reasserted themselves. “I’m ready. I’ll go with you, if you’ll take me … if I won’t cause you more trouble than I’m worth.”

His eyes were smarting. Story and Window were already at the door. “All right,” Window said. “Hurry.”