The search party was halfway through the camp, Gorman with them and Bellam in command. They were ransacking the possessions and temporary shelters of the Outlanders with swift efficiency, ignoring the protests of the women and their blasters leveled warningly on the men. They found the little girl. She was carrying her kitten ahead of them, a small, silent shadow in the moonlight, when Gorman saw her. He spoke to Bellam and Bellam's head jerked up. Then the two of them advanced on her. She tried to run when she realized they had seen the kitten, hugging it in her arms with the white cord trailing behind her. Bellam overtook her and caught her by the shoulder, jerking her to a halt. He tore the kitten from her arms and flung it hard to the ground. It made a thin little scream of pain and the girl fought to reach it, her cry sobbing and frantic: "_Don't hurt him_--" Gorman's blaster hissed and blue flame leaped from it. Incandescence enveloped the kitten and then there was nothing where it had been but a small black hole in the ground. Bellam and Gorman wheeled back, like mechanical men, to resume the search. The girl stood a moment, staring before her, saying something very low that sounded like, "_Tommy ... Tommy...._" Then she stumbled to the little black hole and dropped to her knees beside it as though she hoped that somehow she might still find her kitten there. He looked away, strangely disturbed. He drummed his fingers restlessly on the butt of his holstered blaster then he turned again to go down into the Outlander camp. The moon was up and it was time he found the dog. Something had come out of the night with the monsters and perhaps she could tell him what it was. He could not yet believe she was mad. * * * * * The dark haired woman stood by the fire, watching the little girl and the searchers with bitter, smouldering hatred. She faced him, her breath coming fast in her anger. "Her parents and her brother--when the ship broke up--she lost them all. Only her kitten was left to her." "Where is the dog?" he asked. "Find her!" "The dog--where is she?" "Find her," she challenged again. "Find her and kill her--if you can!" He stepped past her and went on his way. She had told him what he wanted to know: despite her attempts not to do so she had been unable to keep from glancing toward the ship. * * * * * His route took him by the little girl. She was standing by the hole, small and bare-footed in the grass, her hands holding the white cord that was black and charred on one end. She was crying, silently, as though too proud to let him see her break. After he had passed her the vision went with him for a little way; the terrible, helpless hatred and hurt in her eyes and the moonlight gleaming coldly on her tears.