more than you think, youngfeller." He smiled encouragingly.
"That--that I've killed a witch-doctor? That you may be taken for amurderer?"
"Sure! You--ah--you talked about it under drugs. We ... weren't spying,Chet. We just wanted you to tell your story without reliving all theagony. It wasn't intended as--ah--a trap...." He massaged his fingersapologetically.
"No...." Chet agreed. "But-I-was-trying-to-lead-_you_-into-one!"
* * * * *
Had he said that aloud? Chet couldn't be sure.
He listened for his own voice. The woods were quiet. His breathingseemed strangely loud. He held it--and heard the Agvars moving in thewoods. Rustling, scraping, crackling--grunting their guttural dialog.Crashing! Threatening them!
"Let's go back!" he urged, trying to sound casual. But his trail wasblocked.
"Stick around," Dr. Pine suggested easily. "You--ah--you haven't saidanything we didn't know. We're going right ahead."
"But why?" Once more Chet was hotly incredulous. "To risk your life for afew stray facts? Become a casualty while trying to _avoid_ casualties?It doesn't make sense!"
Dr. Pine stared at his own hands as if to hide his shyness in them. "Asto the fact-seeking," he said slowly, "well ... it's a matter ofopinion. I've lost a few classmates.... Risks in research arecommonplace--and accepted as worthwhile by most people....
"And--ah--peace.... You once called it appeasement, but it isn't,always. Well, look. If we fought those Agvars, somebody'd have to take apatrol into their village and capture prisoners for our Intelligence,right?"
Chet nodded dumbly.
"Well, in a way, I--ah--am the peaceful equivalent of that patrol.The--ah--risk I run is less than if we had a war and a patrol skirmishas part of it, though. And why in the world not take for peace a riskwe'd routinely accept in war?"
Why not? But why not minimize it, just the same. The Agvars, invisiblebut noisy, were all around them, now. At any moment the woods might rainspears.
"It would be safer with two of us," Chet said musingly. "Your knowledgeof anthropology and medicine--mine of the people--"
"Barfield, you're still on the sicklist," Commander Seymour pointed out.He watched Chet's face for a long moment before adding, "Still--ifyou're over your sick-minded need for revenge--it's possible Dr. Pinemay find you fit. It's up to him."
Chet was afraid to ask directly. He pleaded with his eyes.
Dr. Pine grinned broadly at the both. "He's ready for duty, sir," hesaid.
Commander Seymour stepped back and scowled. "All right, Mr. Barfield,"he barked, "I'll give you just three minutes to change to the uniform ofthe day!"
Chet's jaw dropped. His vision, also downcast, noted the fatigues hewore, the muddy shoes. Then he looked up, saw the twinkle in his C.O.'seyes, and understood.
In exactly three minutes he made the required change. He would enter thevillage as he'd left it--in the undress uniform of a Man....
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