"True," said Prule seriously, "but that is not particularly extraordinary. He has Galactic blood. So do hundreds of humanoid peoples on hundreds of worlds. As long as we allow tourists to visit any world they choose, whether it's aware of us or not, we will continue to find people with traces of Galactic blood. This is a failing of human nature which I expressly--" But Kunklin was grinning widely. "You mean his father?--" "Or mother," Prule said dourly. "Either party might well have been at fault. It is not difficult to conjecture. A tourist drops in on this planet, notes the--ah--male or female, as the case may be--to have a certain measure of attraction, and the normal processes ensue. Most likely, of course the tourist was his father. A Galactic mother would have done--ah--whatever it is that--ah--well of course." Prule, who was something of a moralist, became somewhat flustered. Kunklin, who was young and handsome and no moralist at all, grinned lecherously. "Well, by Cosmos! This is really cute. I'll bet he doesn't even know!" "In all probability. Since the laws decree silence, it is not likely that even his mother knew." Kunklin looked back at the halftrack, chortling. "Well, really, we have to look after him. Blood brother, I think the phrase goes." Prule drew himself up with great dignity. "Agent Kunklin, we must look after them _all_. There must be no more killing. First the satellite, then the trucks, then the helicopter--" "Was there a helicopter?" "Yes. I was too late to save it. Although I did remove the small Faktor ship that destroyed it." Kunklin brooded. "Well now, really, it's about time we did something, don't you think?" Prule said. Kunklin nodded. "Yes. Unfortunately, there is only one thing we can do." "Use the Earthman? Um. I had expected that." "What other course is there? They think he's a Galactic. They'll try to get him in any way possible, to stop a patrol ship from arriving on the scene. And we, already here, have no way of knowing where on this planet they are, where they've cached their--uh--spoils. Hence we must follow the Earthman." "Well, after all, it is his planet," Prule said. "His _women_," Kunklin corrected. * * * * * Late in the afternoon the halftrack struck a road. It climbed up onto it and Web pressed full speed to thirty. He had considered hiding the halftrack somewhere during the day and going on at night, but there was really no place to hide, and the aliens would probably double back and find the halftrack missing and come looking for it very soon, and they could probably see in the dark anyway. So he got out of the desert as quickly as he could. In all, three separate scouting crews found him in the first four hours. They died silently, above him, without him being even slightly aware of their existence.