Staying well within the shadows of the trees, he picked his way to the back of the hut in which the prisoners were. From where he stood he could see that there were only six old women--about all the island's economy could afford, he supposed--and some ten infants, all toddlers. Most of these, once the excitement caused by the noisy warriors had subsided with their leavetaking, had lain down close to the fire and gone to sleep. The only one who might give real trouble, aside from the guard, was a boy of ten, the one who was now tapping softly on the drum. At first Green could not understand why he hadn't gone with the others of his age to the wreck. But the empty stare and the unblinking way he looked into the fire showed why. Green had no doubt that if he were to come close enough to the lad, he'd see that the eyeballs were filmed over with white. Blindness was nothing rare on this filthy planet. Satisfied as to everybody's location, he crept to the back of the hut and examined the walls. They were made of thick poles driven into the ground and bound together with rope taken from a 'roller's rigging. There were plenty of openings for him to look through, but it was so dark that he could see only the vague outlines moving about. He put his mouth to one of the holes and said softly, "Amra!" Somebody gasped. A little girl began to cry but was quickly hushed up. Amra answered, faint with joy. "Alan! It can't be _you_!" "I am not thy father's ghost!" he replied, and wondered at the same time how he could manage to inject any levity at all into the midst of this desperate situation. He was always doing it. Perhaps it was not the product of a true humor but more like the giggle of a person who was embarrassed or under some other stress, more the result of hysteria than anything else, his particular type of safety valve. "Here's what I'm going to do," he said. "Listen carefully, then repeat it after me so I'll know you have it down." She had to hear it only once to give it back to him letter-perfect. He nodded. "Good girl. I'm going now." "Alan!" "Yes?" he replied impatiently. "If this doesn't work ... if anything should happen to you ... or me ... remember that I love you." He sighed. Even in the midst of this the eternal feminine emerged. "I love you, too. But that hasn't got much to do with this situation." Before she could answer and waste more valuable time he slid away, crawling on all fours around the corner of the hut. When he was where one more pace would have brought him into view of the guard and the old crones, he stopped. All this while he'd been counting the seconds. As soon as he'd clocked five minutes--which he thought would never pass--he rose and stepped swiftly around the corner, spear held in front of him.