"Looks like you won't have to bury me after all," Lanceford said happily. He stretched his arms over his head. He felt wonderful. His body was cool and comfortably free of the hot confinement of the protection suit. He did a slow horrified doubletake as he realized that he was lying on the sleeping platform practically naked--a tempting hors d'oeuvre for the thousand and one species of Niobe's biting insects. "Where's my suit?" he half shouted. * * * * * Kron smiled. "You don't need it, friend Lanceford. If you will notice, you are not bitten. Nor will you be." "Why not?" Kron didn't answer. It wasn't the proper time, and the euphoria that he and the Earthman were enjoying was too pleasant to shatter. Lanceford didn't press the matter. Apparently Kron knew what he was talking about. Lanceford had been watching one particularly vicious species of biting fly hover above his body. The insect would approach, ready to enjoy a mandible full of human epidermis, but, about six inches from his body, would slow down and come to a stop, hanging frustrated in midair. Finally the fly gave up and flew off into the darkness of the rafters. Lanceford hoped that one of the spiders would get it--but he was convinced. Whatever happened to him while he was unconscious had made him as insect-repellent as the Niobians. The smell of cooking came from the firepit and, incredibly, it smelled good. Lanceford looked startledly at Kron. "I'm hungry." "An excellent sign," Kron replied. "You are nearly cured. Soon you will be able to finish this trek." "Incidentally," Lanceford said, "for the first time since I have been out on this showerbath world of yours, you're cooking something that smells fit to eat. I think I'd like to try it." Kron's eyebrows rose and he hummed softly under his breath. This was something entirely unexpected--an added delight, like the flavor of komal in a sorat stew. He savored it slowly, enjoying its implications. "What is it?" Lanceford persisted. "A dish called akef," Kron said. The name was as good as any and certainly described the effect well enough. * * * * * The last hundred miles had been a breeze. Lanceford stood at the edge of the clearing, looking across the planed-off landscape to the shimmering hemispherical bulk of Base Alpha, glistening like a giant cabochon jewel under Niobe's dark sky. Without the protection suit to slow him down and hamper his movements, what would have been a week's trip had been shortened to four days.