"I _shouldn't_ have told him about the ship!" Kinton muttered, gnawing the knuckle of his left thumb. "He's on the run, all right. Probably scared the colonial authorities will trail him right down through the Dome of Eyes. Wonder what he did?" He caught himself and looked around to see if he had been overheard. Klaft and the police officers peered from their respective windows, in calculated withdrawal. Kinton, disturbed, tried to remember whether he had spoken in Terran or Tepoktan. Would Birken listen if he tried reasoning, he asked himself. Maybe if he showed the man how they had proved the unpredictability of openings through the shifting Dome of Eyes-- An exclamation from the constable drew his attention. He rose, and room was made for him at the opposite window. * * * * * In the distance, beyond the town landing field they were now approaching, Kinton saw a halted ground car. Across the plain which was colored a yellowish tan by a short, grass-like growth, a lone figure plodded toward the upthrust bulk of the spaceship that had never flown. "Never mind landing at the town!" snapped Kinton. "Go directly out to the ship!" Klaft relayed the command to the pilot. The helicopter swept in a descending curve across the plain toward the gleaming hull. As they passed the man below, Birken looked up. He continued to limp along at a brisk pace with the aid of what looked like a short spear. "Go down!" Kinton ordered. The pilot landed about a hundred yards from the spaceship. By the time his passengers had alighted, however, Birken had drawn level with them, about fifty feet away. "Birken!" shouted Kinton. "Where do you think you're going?" Seeing that no one ran after him, Birken slowed his pace, but kept walking toward the ship. He watched them over his shoulder. "Sorry, Kinton," he shouted with no noticeable tone of regret. "I figure I better travel on for my health." "It's not so damn healthy up there!" called Kinton. "I told you how there's no clear path--" "Yeah, yeah, you told me. That don't mean I gotta believe it." "Wait! Don't you think they tried sending unmanned rockets up? Every one was struck and exploded." Birken showed no more change of expression than if the other had commented on the weather. Kinton had stepped forward six or eight paces, irritated despite his anxiety at the way Birken persisted in drifting before him. Kinton couldn't just grab him--bad leg or not, he could probably break the older man in two. He glanced back at the Tepoktans beside the helicopter, Klaft, the pilot, the officer, the constable with the rocket weapon. They stood quietly, looking back at him. The call for help that had risen to his lips died there.