But all such thoughts pa.s.sed through her below the surface only. Her one concern now (so she told herself) was for their welfare, which he seemed to be taking far too lightly.

'And what if we're stranded here for a month? Our supplies won't last half that long.'

'I don't think we're stranded, or alone..... I saw the lights again last night.'

These words worked on her system like an electric shock.

'What! Why didn't you wake me?'

'You needed sleep more than water, or even air. Please don't fight with me, Sylviana. Much could happen this day. I don't want it to begin with a rift between us.'

She paced back and forth in the deep sand, her strides sinking, failing to carry her any meaningful distance before doubling back. It was not anger she felt now, but fear.

Because she could not yet face the prospect of finding other men and women like herself. Through all their preparations she had only half believed it, deep down. Yet now the most terrible question of her life rose in unshrouded hugeness before her:

HAD OTHERS OF HER KIND SURVIVED THE DESTRUCTION? Or was she truly alone with Kalus, who she seemed to know less and less each day? And why did a part of her WANT to be alone with him? She could not face it. If after all her hopes and fears it came to nothing.....

'All right,' she said, trying to calm herself. 'All right.

What do we do now?'

'Build a fire, eat and drink, then move inland carefully. We don't know yet what we'll find. I think I can trace the source of the beams well enough. The Island is large, but not infinite. Only its uneven surface makes it appear so. If we miss on the first try, or even the second, we will be closer to the source; and we can trace the beams by night, if need be.'

But for all her need of nourishment, Sylviana's knotting stomach would not think of food. 'We've got to go now! I'm sorry, Kalus, but I can't possibly wait another minute.'

He started to overrule her, then checked himself, secretly bitter at her eagerness. 'Very well,' he said. 'But we go slowly, and with our weapons in our hands. I'll take no chances in this wretched place.'

His mood had changed abruptly. He too felt the specter of the waiting unknown, though his hopes and fears were nearly opposite; and he became once more the untrusting hill-man. He lifted his spear, jaw set against the dark uncertainty that awaited them.

Sylviana strode ahead anxiously. Together they cleared the sand, and climbed the first slanting rise. It dipped, and another rose before them, frail earth punctured by an agony of stone and steel. They advanced.

Chapter 38

Inland the earth grew somewhat less troubled. The undulating cross of ridges became smoother and more widely s.p.a.ced, with patchwork valleys sinking in their midst. The scarred remains of buildings were also less frequent, though here and there an inexplicable mound of slag, half overgrown like an ancient, impoverished barrow, rose to recall the unsleeping dead that still walked there.

Sylviana was soon pale and exhausted, and Kalus could no longer indulge her almost distracted urge to keep moving. Almost angry, he made her sit down in the grim shade of a leering monolith. For the day had grown hot and humid, with hardly a breeze to calm the reeling senses, or break the spell of sunny, smiling death that seemed to hang in the air around them like a witch's curse. A delirium of fever had come over her from the tumultuous pa.s.sage of the rapids and the sea, but in her excited state she was not calm or rational enough to realize it.

Kalus gave her water and tried to cool her burning forehead, telling her in no uncertain terms that they would not go one step further until she had caught her breath, and let him do something about the gash on her knee---the result of a fall---which she kept insisting was nothing.

NOTHING?

But she hardly heard him, unable to master her emotions. She knew where she was, mentally, but this drab physical a.s.surance helped not at all.

Why in the name of all that was dark, mysterious and unfathomable was she here, ten thousand years removed from the time and world she had known? And who was this half wild man who tended her, and the bewildered animal that licked her hand in half-formed worry and confusion? KALUS. ALASKA. NEW YORK. What were they but names? What was this place, truly, but the untouchable Land of the Dead, which the sun had somehow invaded.

As her breath came easier the thoughts slowed and became less feverish, but did not change in character. Her body ached. She felt lonely and numb and afraid. Yet somehow she grew calmer, feeling that if once she looked into Kalus' eyes the world would again become comprehensible, if still cruel and unfair.

But by dint of some perverse pride she refused to do so. She would not be a slave to any man, or concede her spirit to a Nature so base and single-minded. Whatever that might mean. She did not know.

And as soon as the slightest strength returned to her limbs she was up again, fighting the stubborn rush of dizziness, a.s.suring the nagging voice of caution that she was ready to go on.

Kalus was truly worried, himself not immune to the alien strangeness of the place. He did not know what waited over the next hill, the next series of hills, or how with his primitive weapons alone he would protect them. For he had seen the wisp of smoke, the kind that only man can make: the white smoke of intentional fire, though he dared not speak of it to the girl.

All seemed lost and out of control. He wanted to yield and to trust, and if it had been his life alone he might have done so. But the more the woman-child railed and pulled away from him, the more he knew that she was family in the deepest sense. Nothing she could do or say made him feel any less bound to her, one with her, or responsible for her safety and well-being.

There was nothing else for it. She had begun of her own to climb the uneven slant. He could either follow behind or forcibly stop her; there was no third alternative. He ran to stand beside her, taking her arm as gently as he could.

'Sylviana, please. Let me lead the way. I do not think it is far, but we must be careful. Please.'

She finally looked at him, and remembered. She wanted to collapse in his arms and weep. She wanted to say that nothing else mattered. She wanted to go back to their life by the sea and never again think of islands and men. But she could not. She took his hand firmly in hers, kissed it, and yielded to what had to be. She must go on, and he must lead her. As he must somehow understand.

Together, more slowly, they dipped two more valleys and climbed a final ridge. They reached the top of it, Kalus for some reason hugging close to the shadows of a stunted oak.....

There, in that small recession, their lives changed forever. An outdoor cooking fire, a row of low stone buildings. Two women and a man moving about a table with plates and cups. And not dressed like animals, but men. Overalls, a blue NASA worksuit, an Oriental dress. Sylviana looked on, not surprised she told herself, then felt the ground rush up to meet her.

Kalus caught her beneath the arms and pulled her under the partial cover of the tree. But it was too late. They had been seen. Without audible word or gesture, the three stopped what they were doing and began to move toward them. One, at least, had seen her fall, and they began to run, thinking she was wounded or sick.

But they were brought up short by an imposing figure with a sword, and a half grown wolf which seemed unsure whether to welcome their aid, or protect its fallen mistress from them. It growled and lunged uncertainly, looking over at the man, who remained silent. There was a moment of mutual indecision and fear.

But then the woman in the dark silk dress, lit with patterns of gold and lilac, stepped forward. Her appearance was strange to him, the shimmering black hair and olive skin seeming more exotic even than his first memories of Sylviana. Her eyes were calm and rea.s.suring, but not naive. She put a hand to her chest, then opened it toward him in what he clearly recognized as a gesture of truce.

Her stillness, and the way she looked at him without wavering, told Kalus more than any other sign that she meant them no harm. He lowered his sword and said simply.

'Do we speak the same language?'

She smiled sadly. 'Yes, I believe we do.' At this the others came forward.

'Is the girl all right?' asked the man. He started to move towards her, but Kalus' rugged frame interposed.

'She is exhausted and feverish, and startled by the sight of you.