Looked at that way, Tarlac conceded with some amusement, it did have something in common with a holoshow. And maybe having Dave treat this as an adventure wouldn't hurt--might even help, by keeping his morale up. It was a good bet the youngster would need all the pluses he could find . . . he damnsure wouldn't be one! The way he felt, he wouldn't even be conscious much longer. Which would be a definite improvement . . . * * * * * Dave spent the rest of that day alternating between caring for the unconscious Ranger and watching rebel aircars crisscross the sky in what seemed, from the little he could see through trees, to be ever-widening search patterns. The rebels did think they were alive, then, but didn't have enough of an idea of where they might be to mount a concentrated search. So far, so good--though if things stayed this way, it would work against them later, when the Marines landed and they wanted to be found. That was more than a day away, though, he thought as the sun began to set. He rigged a door out of blankets, to block any lamplight that might get past the turns in the cave. He should have done that the night before, he told himself, but it simply hadn't occurred to him; it was just luck that they'd gotten away with his lack of foresight. The night passed, but more slowly than he'd realized would be possible. Tarlac was delirious for several hours, and Dave spent most of that time wrapping him in cold-water-soaked blankets, wiping his face, and trickling water into his mouth. Shortly before dawn, to Dave's combined relief and worry, delirium deepened into coma and Dave's fatigue forced him to take advantage of the silence for a nap. When he woke, he heard aircars again. They sounded closer than they had the day before, and worry turned into fear. The rebels might not be wilderness experts, the way Nemra's Rescue Service people were, but it didn't take that kind of expert to tell the difference between a mountain-prowler's yowling and a sick man's fever-induced cries. He'd been concerned about that all night, but hadn't been able to do anything about them--and now it looked like the rebels knew at least their general location. Only the general location, he hoped, since they were still searching from cars. That was standard procedure for the Rescue Service, at least, so he tried to ignore them while he cared for his patient. He'd gotten used to the smell, for which he was grateful. That and the fact that Tarlac was beyond the reach of pain were the only good parts he could see. The poison was spreading steadily, but--as long as he kept the oozing fluid cleaned off, and kept Tarlac's temperature as low as he could--slowly. Maybe slowly enough that he'd live through the next twenty-four hours, if Dave could keep going that long. And if he didn't have to leave the Ranger alone to play decoy.