Jane didn't hear the rest of it. She turned and ran down the length of the deserted quay adjacent to the one strewn with Mandmooran belongings. She reached the end of the quay and whirled. The corporal was trotting confidently toward her, in no great hurry now. For she had trapped herself on the quay. She was very angry with herself. A fine newshen you are, she thought. First chance you have, you let yourself get caught. A fine.... Something gave her a raucous razzing, something out over the water. She whirled and faced it. A runabout whizzed in across the blue water toward her. Someone was waving. She waved back frantically, suddenly recognizing him. It was Sid Masters. She had met Sid on the ship which had taken both of them to Mandmoora. Sid was with the electronics outfit setting up camera equipment on Mandmoora, equipment which would transmit through subspace the pictures of a sun going nova seen from the surface of its only inhabited planet. She had struck up a quick friendship with Sid on the space-liner. Making up her mind suddenly, Jane didn't wait for the running corporal to reach her. Instead, she turned and jumped off the quay. She came up sputtering. The water was tepid, was typical harbor-water, fouled with gasoline and debris. Masters' gas-turbine driven boat was very close now. The sound of its motor almost drowned out the corporal's shouts as Jane treaded water. "Going to the island," Masters shouted. "You?" "They don't want me to, Sid!" He smiled. She couldn't hear all of what he said, but she got the last part of it. "... want me to, either. Hop in, beautiful." There was a splash behind her. Jane turned and saw the corporal break surface, yelling and waving his arms. She stroked for Sid Masters' runabout. The electronics technician shouted his encouragement, but as she got one hand on the gunwale of the idling runabout, Jane felt something grab and tug at her leg. She lashed out with her free leg, churning water. But the corporal clung grimly to her ankle. Then an old, half-rotted oar appeared alongside Jane's heel, and with it--guiding it--Sid Masters' arms. The oar went out over the water and probed and a moment later the corporal shouted and Jane felt the pressure leave her ankle. "Hop aboard and be quick about it," Masters yelled. Jane needed no urging. She scrambled ungracefully over the gunwale. She was dripping wet and thought she looked a mess. But Masters merely said, "Pleasure to have you aboard, beautiful," and the runabout roared and headed out across the harbor to the island, to the last redoubt of the three thousand sun-worshipping Mandmoorans who waited for a miracle which would not come to save them. * * * * *