Some of the heaviness left his legs as he struggled toward her, and his bullet-torn shoulder and gashed hands no longer seemed to pain so acutely. But what was that darker shadow beside her? His gun came up again. "Who's there?" he demanded. The water that was only chest deep on him was neck deep on her, but he could see that she was supporting her companion. "It's Merlo," she panted. Nick's lips drew back in a snarl. "No, Nick! Don't!" she gasped. * * * * * The Martian gained a footing and stood motionless, his head bowed. Nick noticed that one long arm was holding a small package carefully above water. "Don't kill him!" Sue urged again. "He saved me once tonight." Doubtfully Nick lowered his gun. The Martian looked up and twittered briefly. "He says thank you for his life, and that he was a fool," Susan translated. Nick ignored him. "Come on," he said impatiently. The water grew shallower as they plodded toward the ship, until it was only a thin layer over the deep mud. "What's Blueface got in that package?" Nick asked, still suspiciously keeping the Martian ahead of him. "Yeast," she answered. "We found some when we raided the kitchen building. Klev was with us then--Merlo had two Martians carry him--he wanted to come." The kitchen building was on the edge of camp where the fighting had been heaviest. He glanced at her and saw a heavy regulation gun belt dark against her bare white skin. That belt had not been a gift. "Bad?" he asked. She nodded silently. "What happened to Klev?" During those tortured days of waiting Nick had developed a strange liking for the ancient, uncomplaining Martian. "A half-track caught us. We had to scatter, and lost Klev in the darkness." "He's probably been killed by now. No time to look." Nick felt a sense of shame as he said this. But it was true. The ship came first. He glanced apprehensively to where the rim of one of the moons was peeping over the horizon. Then they were in the shadow of the hull, struggling through the mud beneath its outcurving surface toward the portable metal stairway leading to the port. The stairway was tilted to one side where its wheels had sunk deep into the soft mud, and the steps were slippery with slime. Nick started up, holding his gun ready. Suddenly a mocking laugh came from the entry port above. "Stay where you are!" a voice said. "Harmon!" Sue gasped. The nozzle of a bulky flame gun appeared over the edge, followed by a head. The nozzle swung downward as they clung helpless on the slippery stairway. On the ground below Merlo made some involuntary motion and the weapon swung to include him in its range. "Any last words?" Harmon mocked. Susan said something, using extremely nasty words that Nick had never expected to hear from her lips. "Such a sweet child," Harmon gloated. "And such a pity to break up your tender scene." Susan kept staring up, and suddenly her arm tightened convulsively around Nick's waist.