"Did you not tell us that you felt this strange thing during the night we waited about the camp? What if you become one with these Tatars and are also controlled by the machine? Then you, too, can be made into a weapon against us--your clansmen!" Jil-Lee was almost openly hostile. Sense was on his side. But in Travis was this other desire of which he was becoming more conscious by the minute. There was a reason for those towers, perhaps a reason important enough for him to discover and run the risk of angering his own people. "There may be this--" Nolan's voice was remote and cold, "you may already be a piece of this thing, bound to the machines. If so, we do not want you among us." There it was--an open hostility with more power behind it than Deklay's motiveless disapproval had carried. Travis was troubled. The family, the clan--they were important. If he took the wrong step now and was outlawed from that tight fortress, then as an Apache he would indeed be a lost man. In the past of his people there had been renegades from the tribe--men such as the infamous Apache Kid who had killed and killed again, not only white men but his own people. Wolf men living wolves' lives in the hills. Travis was threatened with that. Yet--up the ladder of civilization, down the ladder--why did this feverish curiosity ride him so cruelly now? "Listen," Jil-Lee, his side padded with bandages, stepped closer--"and tell me, younger brother, what is it that you seek in these towers?" "On another world there were secrets of the old ones to be found in such ancient buildings. Here that might also be true." "And among the secrets of those old ones," Nolan's voice was still harsh--"were those which brought us to this world, is that not so?" "Did any man drive you, Nolan, or you, Tsoay, or you, Jil-Lee, or any of us, to promise to go beyond the stars? You were told what might be done, and you were eager to try it. You were all volunteers!" "Save for this voyage when we were told nothing," Jil-Lee answered, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. "Yet, Nolan, I do not believe that it is for more voyage tapes that our younger brother now searches, nor would those do us any good--as our ship will not rise again from here. What is it that you do seek?" "Knowledge--weapons, maybe. Can we stand against these machines of the Reds? Yet many of the devices they now use are taken from the star ships they have looted through time. To every weapon there is a defense." Nolan blinked and for the first time a hint of interest touched the mask of his face. "To the bow, the rifle," he said softly, "to the rifle, the machine gun, to the cannon, the big bomb. The defense can be far worse than the first weapon. So you think that in these towers there may be things which shall be to the Reds' machines as the bomb is to the cannon of the Horse Soldiers?" Travis had an inspiration. "Did not our people lay aside the bow for the rifle when we went up against the Bluecoats?"