Suddenly, there was whirring motion under his hand. He leaped back, startled. A humming grew from nowhere, followed by a scratching sound that culminated in a loud snap. A tired voice spoke, sounding so near and natural that Yorgh dropped a hand to his knife and looked about. "World Four of the Kithgol planetary system reporting on the hundred and sixty-first day of the plague. Urgently request the dropping of medical supplies detailed in last report, but advise against any attempt to land here. The plague is still uncontrollable, even animals, with few exceptions, being wiped out. "Little hope for survival of this colony. Personnel of this station remain in strict quarantine, and will not venture out to mingle with other colonists in hopes of maintaining communication to the last...." There was more, but Yorgh was satisfied. He backed away from the talking thing, and saw that Vaneen's face was as white as his own felt. "Let's go down again," he whispered through dry lips. "It's getting light." He would have accepted a look of scorn for such a weak excuse, but the girl followed meekly. The door opened as soon as he got his light within a yard of it, and they crept guiltily down the stairs cut out of solid rock. * * * * * There were no Raydowers about until Yorgh and Vaneen came wearily down the last flight of steps on the face of the cliff. Jayn was waiting there in the little clearing, with Ueln and a crowd of villagers, spearmen prominently to the fore. "The spirits let you return!" murmured Jayn, her face strained and pale. There was a general air of shrinking back among the crowd, although Yorgh did not see anyone actually move his feet. "I swear," said Ueln, "that they must have been all the way inside the shrine. I followed right to the Portal!" "That is true enough," said Yorgh, waiting a few steps up to see what they would do. He wondered if he could impress them with his light. He held it in his hands. "Then, the sooner you go, the better!" said Jayn bitterly. "If the spirits let you go, we may not touch you. But I do not care to keep you around until you bring certain disaster upon the village." An old woman whispered in her ear, and she looked sharply at Vaneen. "And you took the girl with you?" she demanded. "Of course," he replied. "And if you are really anxious to have us gone, I think you should give us wollies to ride." "You can have all the animals my cousin took from the flatland!" she snapped. "But first, another matter!" An old man was pushed to the forefront of the crowd. He smoothed his white beard nervously and peered up at Yorgh and Vaneen with faded, short-sighted eyes. Abruptly, he found his voice, and rattled off a brief, chanting patter. Then he stepped back behind a spearman who looked to Yorgh as if he would be poor protection.