Beastchild

least, in the gloom and the walls of dancing flakes, Leo would not be able to see how far the top of the mountain really was…
        "I'll break a way," he said to Leo. "Stay close, in my steps. Crawl when I crawl, walk when I walk. Okay?"
        "I can take orders," the boy said haughtily.
        Hulann laughed, slapped him on the shoulder, then turned and took the first step of the trek back to the highway… … and simultaneously heard the first word of the Phasersystem alert…
        Banalog stiffened in his chair when he heard the beginning of the Phasersystem alarm. The last traces of the sweet-drugs had left him an hour earlier, though he had decided to wait as long as possible before giving the alarm that would wake the Hunter and send him stalking Hulann and the boy. At first, he thought this alert had nothing to do with Hulann. It was being given by a woman named Fiala, an archaeologist and moderately well-known essayist in certain technical circles. When he ascertained, after the first few words, that she too was now tied and gagged by Hulann, he waited no longer. He added his voice to hers.
        Moments after they had finished, there were naoli in his office to untie him, to take the gag from his mouth. One of them was a military officer named Zenolan, an extremely large person, a foot taller than Banalog, a super lizard with a head half again as large as a head should be. He took the empty hypo with the traces of sweet-drugs in it from the hands of one of the other naoli.
        "Sweet-drugs?" he asked Banalog unnecessarily.
        "Yes."
        "When?"
        "Last evening," Banalog lied.
        "Why was he here?"
        "A session under the machines."
        Zenolan looked at the equipment hanging in the recessed section of the office ceiling. "A session? At night?"
        "Early evening,'' Banalog said. "And it was because he had forgotten his appointment for this afternoon. Or so he said. I contacted him to get him in after hours. He was reluctant even then. Tried to make excuses. I wouldn't have any of it." He looked at Zenolan to see what effect the story was having.
        The big man seemed to believe it. "Go on," he said.
        "Then, when he was here, he tried to outwit the machines. Which is impossible, of course."
        "Of course."
        "When I found his secret, that he was harboring a boy -well, he overpowered me, smashed my head against the floor, knocked me out before I thought to use my Phaser contact. When I woke, he had me tied and drugged."
        "You're sure it was not any earlier than last evening?"
        Banalog looked perplexed. "If it had been, the sweet-drugs would have worn off. I would have contacted you sooner."
        "That's what I mean."
        "Are you suggesting-"
        "No," Zenolan said, shaking his huge head. "Forget it. I'm just upset."
        Banalog snorted to show his contempt. He knew better than to get too irate. Too much anger would make them suspect he really did have something to cover. He was pondering his next move when his desk phone buzzed. He wondered what private message he was receiving that could not be sent over the Phasersystem. He picked up the receiver and said hello.
        "You will come to see me in ten minutes," the smooth, cold voice on the other end said. "I will want your full story."
        It was the Hunter Docanil…
        The Hunter Relemar stepped out of the thousand-gallon storage tank in the foundry yards in the city that had been Atlanta. He opened his Phasersystem contact and informed the military officials who assigned his missions (and, incidentally, everyone else linked to the Atlanta area system and the Fourth Division system) that he had completed his assignment. Then he broke contact.
        He did not look back at what had been Sara Laramie.
        He stuffed his clawed hands into the pockets of his greatcoat and walked across the yards toward the exit gate.
        There was only a slight chill in the air, yet he could not go without clothes, as other naoli could.
        He was a Hunter.
        He was different.
        Elsewhere at that time:
        Fiala finished the necessary tapeforms for application for director of her archaeological team. The job that should have been hers in the first place. There was no problem now. She could not help but get it. Hulann had cracked without her help. She felt terribly pleased with things.
        David watched