He had but sixty-seven days of Leave to go, and it might well take longer than that to get anywhere near Chen. In sixty-seven days they would come to pick him up, take a readout before he'd even be allowed back into Council-"decontamination" they cynically called it-and in seconds he'd be tried, convicted, and executed by the machines who looked out for such things. And if he wasn't here to get picked up, they'd know immediately why, and a Val would be sent on his trail armed with his memories and the way he thought and with access to all the technology he lacked.

His eyes strayed to the dog-eared atlas that had also been in the case. He picked it up and found the overview of central North America, then traced the river systems, looking for something that would strike a chord. There were ports allowed, small enclaves that handled the small but steady trade between foreign shores and here, but he was separated from the eastern ports by many weeks of riding through unfamiliar territory held by eastern nations friendly to no stranger. To the south was Nawlins, of course, but it was small, controlled by the Caje, and its business was almost entirely with Central and South America.

He suddenly stopped and sat upright. Mud Runner! He had almost forgotten about him! A few years ago Mud Runner had been expelled from Council due to some scandal never made public and appointed Resident Agent at Nawlins, where he'd come from, and where he'd be out of the Council's way.

Hawks thought furiously. Was Mud Runer still there? Was he still alive? And if so, would he remember the eager young warrior who'd covered his watch many times so the old fox could sneak off for his countless assignations?

Was there a choice?

He began to examine the atlas more closely. He'd be with the current and going south. Two weeks to Nawlins-ten days if he got any breaks, three weeks if he ran into trouble, as he inevitably would. Still, if the old boy was still there, and if he remembered Hawks, and if he was willing to put his neck on the line just to twit the Council, and if he could somehow arrange to get someone who would obviously be a plains native on enough skimmers to take him halfway around the world-there was a chance. Not much, but the alternatives were even less palatable.

He went down to talk with Cloud Dancer.

He had thought about her a great deal over the past weeks, trying to sort out his feelings. He had been lonely, and she had filled that loneliness. His heart and mind had been leaden, and she had made them light. She was in many ways the most amazing, wonderful woman he'd ever met. He both wanted her and needed her very badly, he realized, yet he could not destroy her by returning to Council with her, and he had determined that he could not remain here. Yet now, when he knew he would return to Council only as a corpse, she still was beyond his reach. She had already lost one husband; he could not ask her to marry a walking dead man.

So now he walked down to her crude lodge in back of the Four Families' camp to do the one thing that seemed even more difficult than the decision to read those papers. He had to say good-bye.

"And so I must get to this man," he told her. "He is the only man with sufficient power to save me and to whom this information will be meaningful. He might save me only because I do him this service."

She nodded, although she didn't seem happy. "You mean to go alone?"

. The very question startled him. "I can see no way to do otherwise."

She seemed slightly hurt, but she covered it. "Have you ever been down the river before? Do you know the skills of the canoe? Can you swim?"

"No, I have never been there, and I have no real knowledge of the canoe, but I can at least swim."

"I have never been down that far," she admitted. "My husband, however, had to go many days now and then to deliver messages and to trade with other medicine men.

The river grows wide and often deep. It took both of us to manage the canoe in many dangerous parts of the river."

He stared at her. "Are you saying that you wish to come along?"

"This is my world. I was raised in it, and I know it well. You would not have come this far without me. You will not reach this man without me, either. This I know, and this you know as well."

"But we are talking weeks in the wild, and then a place strange to both of us and filled with danger. I will probably die, or fail and die, but if I do not try this I will certainly die. For you, though, it is far more foolish. A Hyiakutt woman among strange tribes-you know what might happen. The city will be even worse. Cutthroats, thieves, murderers, violators of women, and women of no honor. If something happened to me, there would be no one who spoke Hyiakutt.

Even together, you could speak only to me."

"There is no one else I would need to speak to," she told him seriously. "And if you die, what happens to me will be of little consequence. Do you not know that now? Are you blind or so removed from us that you think of us as less than human?"

Her comments both touched and stung him. "There is nothing more false than if I say I do not love you," he responded, feeling suddenly empty, even ill. "Yet, do you not understand what my condition is? I am dead!"

"That may be true," she responded. "It will surely be true if you keep believing it. Now, though, you must for once turn from yourself, spoiled little boy that you are, and think of me. I understand your condition well. Until you came, I had been dead for years."

He felt sudden shame. What she says is the truth, he admitted to himself. I am a spoiled, self-centered little boy. Never once, other than in sympathy, had he ever really thought of her side in this. Who would not prefer a sentence of death to one of a living hell?

"You do not have to marry me," she told him. "I will come with you in any case."

"No," he responded. "Let us seek out the medicine man. If we are both in the Demon's Lair, then let us be truly one there."

There had been no elaborate ceremony; although Hyiakutt weddings could be fabulous and complex affairs, all that was truly required was a small ritual binding to one another by a medicine man who served as witness before the Great Spirit, Creator of All, and that was it. Arranging for the canoe was more difficult, although the marriage provided an excuse as long as neither of them mentioned that the canoe was not likely to be returned.

They finally made their arrangements, then went back to his hogan to gather up the papers and other documents. It was only then that he remembered the jewel box and opened it. Cloud Dancer was amazed at the number, size, and beauty of the pieces.

"This was to finance the courier's journey," he told her. "Now it will do the same for us."

"But-it was hers, not ours," she objected. "Will it curse us as it did her?"

"I doubt it. The jewels were intended as a means of payment no matter where in the world she might travel. I am now her heir because I took on myself her secrets and her mission. None has a greater right. Here-let us empty this into a leather pouch for the journey."

"Why? The box looks sound."

"Perhaps, but we will not take it or most of the papers. The knowledge in the papers is such that the demons will continue to search until they find them or until they are certain that they have been destroyed. I had to break her grip on the case to get it, so there is no way to restore things the way they were, but there is a way at least to gain more time."

He removed a few sheets from the notebooks. These were not complete but would support his story should he be doubted. He had carefully selected them for this purpose and because in no case was it obvious that they were missing. He doubted that the hunters had a word-for-word catalog of what the courier carried; if nothing obvious was gone, then they might think they had everything.

Careful not to leave any specific tracks or signs, Hawks and Cloud Dancer trekked up to the death site, which was still much as he'd left it. Choosing a particularly secluded area near the body, Hawks opened the case and scattered the contents around, papers and all. The jewel box he tossed a few meters away.

He had been as careful as possible to remove any fingerprints from the cases; he wasn't too certain about the papers, but he doubted the hunters could get much there. He knew as a trained investigator that if there was an obvious conclusion, searchers rarely took the time to examine the most minute flaws in a scenario to discover what was really there. A historian was, after all, a detective first.

"I hope it will look like someone just came through and discovered the body, then got the case, examined it, threw the papers away because they could not read them, and took the jewels," he told her. "It is a believable scene. If it remains undiscovered even a few more days, then weather and the forest life will age them and partly destroy them, lending even more support to my version of things and covering our tracks still further."

They went back to his place. It was the custom of the Hyiakutt that a newly married couple go off into the wilderness by themselves for a period of time after being joined, and he was counting on that to explain his absence.

He had brought very little from his other life, and decided to take only some of the pencils and paper along with the few items of spare clothing and portable utensils. She had even less, so they were able to make a blanket-wrapped pack not too bulky to fit in the canoe. The pack would also serve as a counterbalance. Cloud Dancer prepared as much food as she could, but clearly they would have to forage for a large part of their meals. That meant taking at least a knife, bow, and spear and the all-important flintstone.

She gave her art to the Four Families, saving only a few items, most particularly two identical headbands of colorful but traditional design. She gave him one and kept the other. Their preparations finished, they both sat on his bed, and on impulse he put his arm around her and drew her to him, then kissed her. She held him even tighter, and things developed from there. It was the first time they had so much as kissed or held each other close.

Cloud Dancer considered Hawks a brilliant man but totally naive in things practical, an area in which she excelled. It was, in fact, one thing that made them a good match. She, however, had little experience in lovemaking, and while he had been without a woman for a very long time, his schooling in that subject had come in a far more cosmopolitan environment. She surrendered to him, letting him take complete control. And then they slept together on the too-small bed of straw, and both were content.

There was a change in her next morning: She seemed somehow gentler, softer, full of joy and beauty. And, he realized, he didn't feel all that bad himself, considering the circumstances. He knew that whatever happened, he had made the right choice. He just hoped she had.

"Feeling set?" he asked her. "No second thoughts?"

"If we died right now, I could feel content," she responded. "Is it like that-every night?"

"If the two are in love, it can be. Still, we have a long, strenuous journey ahead. There will be times when we are both too tired."

She laughed. "Then we must do it in the mornings. Come. Let us go down and see how well you manage a canoe."

Not well, it turned out. The small craft was well designed and well built, but it required not only sure control of the paddles but also delicate weight shifts to keep everything in balance. Although there was an autumn chill in the morning air, both completely disrobed to avoid any damage to their precious clothing, and it was a good thing. They took a number of cold baths that morning and more than once had to pull an overturned canoe to shore. They were fortunate, they knew, that the craft was so well designed: at least it did not sink.

One day's practice for a river as treacherous as the Mississippi was not at all adequate, but both were aware that their lives were now all risk and that somewhere a hidden clock was running. They would leave the next day, and she would captain the boat.

Thunderstorms rumbled through that evening, giving them some cause for concern, but the next day dawned unnaturally warm and sunny, as was the way with autumn.

They went up to say farewell to the Four Families, trying not to make it seem a final one. Cloud Dancer was somewhat unnerved to discover that she suddenly had status and position once again with these families who alone would brave the winter here while the bulk of the tribe was far to the south. The medicine man gave the couple some totems and holy paints to ward off the evil spirits and bless their marriage, and finally they were allowed to go. By this time it was already midday, so they knew they wouldn't make much time, but it was enough to practice real distance travel and at least gave them a sense that their odyssey had actually begun.

Because they were new at canoeing and because the day was so warm, Cloud Dancer repacked the heavier clothes and showed him another gift. They weren't much more than loincloths, really-ornate belts from which hung a meter or so of plain wool cloth dyed earthen-brown-but they would preserve modesty among strangers while allowing the important clothing to be protected from the water and elements. She also used the medicine man's magic paint to draw a few designs on Hawks's face and her own for protection on the journey.

The early Europeans had encountered such people and branded them primitive, or savages. Hawks knew they probably looked very much that way now, but that was not his problem. His problem was having to look at her very beautiful figure and still keep his mind on business.

The early going wasn't too bad. When they found a current, they would follow it south, actively paddling only when that current became too swift or carried them toward obstructions and shallows or in the wrong direction. Neither had any idea of the distance they made on any given day, but the river was peaceful, and they felt good to be alive.

The navigable rivers were used by all tribes and nations as highways for trade, commerce, and information. They also connected with millions of kilometers of trails which took the sacred pipestone from Minnesota to the lodges of the south and east and returned with finely crafted gemstones and sacred totems from those places as well as tobacco, vital to many ceremonies among tribes with eastern roots.

Hawks and Cloud Dancer passed other canoes, some quite large, going upstream loaded with goods, and occasionally a craft shot ahead of them at a speed far faster and surer than they dared to travel. Their fellow travelers represented a great many tribes and nations, but they did not seek out any conversation and, except for an occasional upraised palm or even a wave, were generally ignored by the others. The river was strictly neutral territory.

The weather held for three days, then changed dramatically as a line of thick clouds rolled across the sky, followed quickly by a chilly, steady rain. Forced to pull in and make camp until the storm passed, they rigged a lean-to using the largest blankets and thick trees for shelter, but it really was a damp and miserable time. Too, their meager provisions were running quite low, and while they'd managed to find some apple trees with enough fruit just coming ripe, they could not live entirely on apples. He didn't want to use the jewels for barter yet; he didn't know who or what they might attract in this region. And while they might hunt, the ground was far too damp for them to build and maintain a fire. Anything they found would have to be eaten raw.

Cloud Dancer again proved amazingly resourceful. At her direction, they both scrambled in the mud for insects and earthworms and other live things driven out by the rains and then tied them to vines secured with small rocks in the shallows of the river. She stood there, staring at the opaque, muddy waters as if she could see right through them, hip deep herself, absolutely motionless, often for an hour or more. Then, suddenly, she was a blur of motion as the spear came down, and about half the time it would come up with a huge wriggling catfish. He tried the same thing and almost speared his own foot. It was something of a blow to his ego, but he accepted it.

She prepared two fish using the knife, but they still had to be eaten raw. He found he didn't mind it that way, although not long ago he would have recoiled at the idea. He was changing, and the longer they were out on their own, the more pronounced the change became until even he could not deny it. It wasn't just that he was getting weathered, leaner, and more muscled; it was something inside him as well. The dreams he had about Council and its wonders had been replaced, for one thing. He hadn't dreamed about what was most familiar to him in days; instead, he dreamed pastoral dreams, of building a lodge, of becoming a hunter and gatherer, of making love to Cloud Dancer. Even awake, he had to force his thoughts back to the reality of his situation. This life, this wilderness, this moment preoccupied him and seemed normal and natural to him; the world from which he'd come seemed cold, distant, somehow not merely unreal but undesirable.

It was the template, of course, but it had never affected him to this degree before. Of course, he had never before been married to a woman of this culture and isolated in the wilderness; past Leaves had always been a matter of simply passing time until the obligation was fulfilled and he could return to his true life. He was no longer merely thinking in Hyiakutt, he was thinking as a Hyiakutt. It seemed as if the old Hawks had died somehow and a new Hawks born, one who'd never left this place and gone off to the other world. Each day made any other life seem unimaginable and dreamlike. Not even the rain and mud seemed unpleasant or inconvenient. Cloud Dancer lay next to him, her head on his shoulders, in silence.

"Tell me-have I changed in the past few days?" he asked her, not even sure why he was concerned about it.

"No, my husband," she answered softly. "Do you feel changed?"

"I-my thoughts seem filled with fog. I must work to remember."

"Remember what, my husband?"

"My past, my knowledge, my work. Even the lodge of the Four Families seems distant to me."

"Who are the Four Families?" she asked sleepily.

Something very cold cut like a knife through the fog in his brain. "Do you remember anything? Do you remember our marriage?"

"I-I-" She seemed suddenly very confused.

He moved away and stood. "Get up. We will have to float down more, storm or no storm."

That confused her even more. "Why should we wish to float down anywhere? I-I cannot seem to think right."

"That is why we must do it. Hurry! Now!"

It was a real effort to act and to keep his determination, but they packed up the supplies, loaded the canoe, and pushed off. The rain was light but steady, and they were already thoroughly soaked. The wetness they could ignore, but the mist hid the river, which was swollen and now filled with many tricky currents.

The hypnotic field did not seem to be specific to them, which meant that it might not involve them at all, but he had no idea how far down it might reach.

It was weak, slow, and subtle, which was why it had caught him by surprise, but that also allowed normal river traffic to pass through without even realizing the field was there. Only because they had camped for so long in its grip was its effect so strong, and only because he had the background to recognize it and fight it were they able to move away at all.

There were two overlapping beams, one on each side of the river, moving in a short sweep pattern. Now, feeling the pulses as they passed, he realized that their campsite had to have been on the upper fringe of the field and that the canoe was now traveling directly into them. Still, the sweep area couldn't be very large; it would have to be in a normally unpopulated area with few good landings, or whoever had set it would risk catching and trapping normal traffic on the river.

The area has been sensitized to those not keyed to it. She cannot get out. .

This, then, was a part of the Val's barrier. He tried to concentrate, to force himself to think of it on the old level, for that was the way to fight it. If it was the barrier, then he could understand why it would have some effect on him, although not the command effect intended for a total Outsider, but he couldn't understand why it had also struck Cloud Dancer. The only answer might be that if it found a potential target, it included anyone else within a certain distance of that target. To anyone farther away, it would not even exist.

The pulses were getting stronger, and he found them increasingly difficult to fight. Cloud Dancer, in the front, had already stopped paddling and was just sitting there, a frozen figure. He felt himself begin to go numb, found thinking impossible.

The canoe bounded forward, out of control, strictly at the mercy of the currents in the pouring rain.

It had taken several days for their senses to return. Hawks had no clear memories of that period of time, but both of them were scratched and bruised and covered with a mixture of mud and blood. The blood was not theirs; he had vague memories of lying in wait for small animals, beaver and muskrat and others, and seizing them, battering their brains out, and together devouring them, more like animals than humans themselves. They had, in fact, been like animals, hunting, killing, eating, mating, then sleeping in a primal cycle. In stages, the effect had finally simply worn off.

Now they sat on a riverbank, filthy and stark naked, not sure what to do. Oddly, Cloud-Dancer was less affected than he was, mostly because of the fact that she could not even conceive of the technology that had caused this. As she saw it, they had been struck by a spell from an evil spirit, and the fact that they were alive at all and restored was a victory. Still, the situation was not lost on her.

"At least it has stopped raining," she noted.

He sighed. "The canoe is gone, our clothes and supplies are gone, even our weapons are gone, along with the jewels and the proof."

"I told you those jewels carried evil spirits within them. They should not have been with us."

He suddenly felt very stupid and mentally kicked himself, for she was, in her own way, exactly right. That was what the damned hypnotics were homing in on!

They couldn't really be tuned to a specific individual, but they knew about the case, the papers, and the jewels, certainly. Since those were the primary objects of the search, anyway, and because the courier would have been unlikely to surrender any of them if she wished to ensure her mission and her survival, the hypnotics were sensitized to look for them. That was why no others on the river had been affected and why Hawks and Cloud Dancer had.

"The next time you warn me about evil spirits, I will listen and heed your warnings," he assured her. "The question is, what do we do now?"

"First we bathe ourselves in the river," she told him. "Then I think we should walk with the waters and see if anything washed up that we can use."

He sighed. "It has been many days now, at least. I do not think we will find anything of ours."

"Yet we must try. There is nothing else to do but to go on."

She was more correct than she knew, even though a hopeless cause had turned impossible, for they were now sensitized to the barrier, and if they walked back up through it, they would be captured again. He was actually tempted by the prospect, a sort of mental suicide. If they lived and remained in that field for a period of time, it would cause permanent, irreversible damage to the cortex of the brain. There was no guarantee that some damage hadn't already been done, but to return would be to become animals forever.

Instead, she washed him off, and he washed her, and they began walking along the bank looking for what couldn't possibly be there. Late in the day, though, the impossible happened.

The canoe did not look to be in bad shape. It had continued on for some distance after overturning and dumping them out, but it had finally been run by the current into the brush and thick mud along the bank and had stuck there. They were able to get it out with some work, and it looked whole, but of the supply bundle and the paddles there was no sign. Those could be anywhere, including at the bottom of the river, and to hope to find any more was pushing fortune beyond its limits. They did look, of course, for a fair distance down the river, but they found nothing and eventually walked back to the canoe.

"I am not sure how much better off we are," he remarked. "We can go nowhere without paddles, and we have not the means or skills to make them even if we had the makings."

"First we use what light is left to forage for some food," she told him. "Then, tomorrow, we do what must be done."

"What?"

"We push the canoe and ourselves out to a current that is safe for us, and we let it carry us, in the water, until we come upon some canoe going up or down the river. We have had an accident while on our marriage trip. We have lost everything except the canoe. Honor will demand that we be helped, do you not think?"

He held her close and kissed her. "I do not know what I would do without you."

"Out here, you would die, my husband, and without you I would have no life."

They took a position near a small island, where they could keep themselves at least partly concealed to upstream traffic. They definitely did not want to be rescued by someone who would take them back north, a point he had to make forcefully in her terms. That evil spirit, he told her, now knew them. They could not come close to it again.

Their plan worked. When they saw a large canoe heading downstream, they pushed themselves out and began calling for help.