"I dunno," he lied. Should he tell her that he was not her husband, that he didn't have the foggiest notion of who he was? He decided against it. "How'd he know where to find me?" She sighed. "He helped you build the place. Now where is he?" "Goddammit, Beth, I told you! How many times do I have to tell you that he vanished!" "Stop yelling at me!" "Then believe me! It happened! I saw it happen, and I wasn't seeing things! Go out and look. If you can find his body out there, I'll eat it." She uttered a little cry and came into his arms, holding him tightly. "Oh, darling, I want to believe you. I want very much to believe you; but men can't vanish." "Brice did." "All right. If you say he did. All right. Now what?" "I don't know. I have to think. I have to try and remember what happened to me. It's the only way that this crazy whirl will make sense, and it has to make sense. It has to." She nodded. "Let's go into the room. I want to be with you tonight. Let me have the gun, dear?" He stared at her, his jaws knotted. "You think I'm nuts, don't you? You think I'm crazy." "Darling, darling, of course not. But I wish you'd give me the gun." Resignedly he unstrapped the gun and gave it to her. He shrugged. "I don't blame you. Hell, I think I'm crazy too." She didn't argue the point. They both went into the front room and sat there staring into the ashes of the dead fireplace while dusk fell about the cabin. Finally Beth started the fire. When she had finished, she bent and kissed him. "Why don't we get some sleep, honey," she said. "That may help." "I'll be up later," he told her and she kissed him again. Then she went to bed. How long he sat there he had no way of knowing, but the fire was steadily dying. The thoughts hammered in his head and he became lost in them, trying mentally to find the key that would tear away the veil and grant him a peek at his past. Bits and snatches had filtered through, garbled and incoherent, that had tried to shed light yet could not. And, while he leaned toward one conclusion, drawn from the dreams, he felt it too fantastic for belief. He was so absorbed in his thinking that he never heard the door open slowly. When he did hear the soft tread behind him, it was too late! A handkerchief of chloroform was clamped strongly over his face! He struggled, trying to get away from the hands that held him, but he was powerless! The chloroform got to him. He couldn't breathe... He slept. CHAPTER ELEVEN The ship came to rest upon a flat, ochre colored plain beside a brilliant white city encased in thick, heavy walls. There was a dull pain in his head and fire in his leg, but he was alive. He lay limply upon the bed while Firstspacer Narvi plied him with honeywine to dull the pain. He grinned, studying the blond giant's warm, friendly face. He was among friends; the tall, yellow eyed Thistians had failed to kill him and Narvi had whisked him away into the violet sky.