"He seems to know more about it than any of the rest of us," Homer said, his eyes on the all but sand-obliterated way. "We're going to have to move more of the men south. We simply haven't got water enough for them. There'd be enough in Tamanrasset, but not out here. Make a note to cover this with Kenny. I wonder where Bey is, and Elmer." Isobel made a note. She said, "Yes, but the trouble is, he's a comparative newcomer. Are you _sure_ he's in complete accord with the original plan, Homer? Does the El Hassan dream mean the same to him as it does to you, and ... well, me?" He shot her an impatient glance, even as he hit the lift lever to raise them over a small dune. "You and Dave don't hit it off very well. He's a good man, so far as I can see." Her delicate forehead wrinkled and her pixie face showed puzzlement. "I don't know why. I get along with most people, Homer." He patted her hand. "You can't please everybody, Isobel. Listen, something's got to be done about this king-size mob of camp followers we've got. Did you know Common Europe sent in a delegation this morning?" "Delegation? Common Europe--?" "Yeah. Haven't had time to discuss it with you. They found us just before we raised camp. Evidently, the British Commonwealth and possibly the Soviet Complex--some Chinese, I think--are also trying to locate us. Half of these people are without their own equipment and supplies, but that's not what worries me right now. We used to be able to camouflage our headquarters camp. Dig into the desert and avoid the aircraft. But if a group of bungling Common Market diplomats can locate us, what's to keep the Arab Legion from doing it and blessing us with a stick of neopalm bombs?" Isobel said, "Look, before we leave Dave. Did you know he was confiscating all radio equipment brought into our camp by the newsmen and whoever else?" Homer frowned. "Well, why?" "Espionage, Dave says. He's afraid some of these characters might be in with the Arab Union and inform on us." "Well, that makes some sense," Homer nodded. "Does it?" Isobel grumbled. He shot an irritated glance at her again and said impatiently, "Can't the poor guy do anything right?" "My woman's intuition is working," Isobel grumbled. * * * * * Dave Moroka came into headquarters tent without introduction. He was one of the half dozen who had permission for this. He had a sheaf of papers in his left hand and was frowning unhappily. "What's the crisis?" Homer said. "Scouts coming up say your pal Bey-ag-Akhamouk is on the way. Evidently, with a big harka of Teda from the Sudan." "Great." Homer crowed. "Now we'll get going." "Ha!" Dave said. "From what we hear, a good many are camel mounted. How are we going to feed them? Already some of the Songhai Kenny brought up from the south have drifted away, unhappy about supplies."