The girl stood up slowly and looked at him, her eyes showing that fear had finally gotten inside of her. Caine's eyes were hard as he stared back at her, and the hate and indignation for what had just happened made his stomach tighten and his hands tremble. In that instant, he detested the sight of the girl because she was a part of the group that had bred the crazed specie that hung now on the tip of a razor plant. He wanted to hurt her, to make her suffer for the two green-skinned beings that lay dead; two more victims of a sweeping cruel invasion that cared nothing for the inherent rights of a native race; victims because they had been naive and trusting and basically honest. So because he wanted to hurt her, he walked quietly across the clearing, lifted the limp body of the boy, and struck his hand across the dead face. Her cry was a short, shocked sound. He snapped the body up again and drew his hand back. "Don't!" she screamed. "Don't do that again!" He saw the tears shining on her cheeks. Her lips were trembling and her hands were white tight fists. He let the body fall against the impalement of the plant. He noticed then that the camera was still looped around the boy's neck. He held the camera in his hand, and then he snapped the strap over the boy's head and put it around his own neck. "You louse," she said, her voice hissing through the small white teeth. "Why don't you take his money, too?" He looked at her, his eyes steady and cold. Then he dug a hand into the pocket of the boy's jacket and drew out a wallet. He extracted a thick packet of Colony currency, put it in his own pocket and threw the wallet into the brush. His eyes were icy and full of hate when he looked at her. "He forgot to pay me for this trip." She cursed him. Caine walked quickly across the clearing and examined the two Venusians. Then he turned back to the girl. "This is one they won't let go by. I'll guarantee that. Do you want to wait for them with your friend?" Caine said, motioning toward the boy. "Or do you want to face it with me?" "I'll make you pay for hitting him," the girl said, controlling her voice. "Sure," Caine said, his smile a humorless curl of the mouth. He crossed the clearing, picked up his gun and reentered the brush. He could hear her following. He hurried. The remainder of the group he had seen in the clearing would be taking care of the two bodies now, and probably, the body of the boy. There would be no violence or physical harm, but these people were capable of strange things, and Caine felt himself searching the brush around him tensely. The girl followed him stubbornly. And Caine lengthened his strides, smashing through the thick growth, dodging the razor leaves, skirting the muck-like pools that appeared here and there. IV