The galactic council of scientists estimated that one-tenth of the Earth people had never been rounded up and resettled in the prison compounds; bandit raids increased that number steadily. How the rebels survived no one knew, for any large scale food production would have been spotted by the patrols and wiped out. One or two crackpot theorists said the bandits fed themselves by hunting wild game, but that was absurd. It was common fact throughout the civilized galaxy that any culture which evolved as far as the Power Age would, in the normal process of growth, eliminate all planetary animal life. The accepted explanation was the food cache theory. According to it, the Earthmen--sometime after the conquest and before the prison compounds were set up--had raided their own cities and hidden the packaged food in remote mountain areas. The supply was decidedly limited. When it was gone, the rebels faced starvation unless they returned voluntarily to the compounds. The Sierra range between the Nevada station and the coast had become a haven for so many escaped Earthmen that the region was marked "enemy territory" on the occupation maps. Although Tchassen was aware of that, he knew he could not assume that, because the four survivors had to pass through a rebel area, they would discover a cache of food. Far too many organized expeditions, sent out expressly for that purpose, had returned empty handed. * * * * * As the afternoon shadows lengthened and the sedan seemed to be moving no closer to the snow-capped peaks, the air became colder. Tchassen's naked chest was studded with gooseflesh. Drein and Briggan were rubbing their arms to keep warm. Tchassen was accustomed to the controlled temperatures on the civilized worlds and the comforts of the beam ships. It hadn't occurred to him that the regular military uniform might be inadequate. He felt the subtle pulsing of fear, the crushing loneliness of a stranger on an alien world. He fingered the barrel of a dispersal ray, but the weapon gave him no sense of security. He had a terrible sensation of psychological nakedness. The weapons could drive off bandits, but what protection did Tchassen have against the unknown elements of a savage world? We've failed; we have no right to be here: the words lashed at his mind like an insinuating poison. He could feel sweat on his face and chest, sweat turning cold in the icy wind. Now the sedan entered a decaying village nestled close to the mountains. It was in an amazingly good state of repair--undoubtedly because it was located so far from the coastal cities that it had escaped destruction during the invasion. Then, too, the village was too close to the Nevada compound for the Earth people to have looted it. Tchassen tapped on Drein's shoulder and ordered him to stop the sedan. "We need warmer clothing," the Captain explained, "before we start up the grade."