Beastchild

are still alive, we must do whatever we can to help them."
        "We aren't going to the Haven?"
        Hulann considered it. "We could. But it would serve no purpose. It would solve nothing. Our only chance is to let the others know what I've found. Oh, they'll get it on their own sooner or later. There are archaeological teams sifting the ruins of every city not ruined. There are anthropologists piecing your culture together. Others will find that the spacers were a different breed. But it may take months-even years. And in that time, the few remnants of your race may be found and killed. And then knowing about the spacers will do no good at all."
        "I guess," Leo agreed.
        "Then I'll call the Hunter off."
        "You can do that?"
        "I can try."
        "I'll go for a walk," the boy said. "My legs need stretching." He opened the door, stepped onto the road, slammed the door behind. He walked off to the left, stooped to examine a small, purple-flowered cactus.
        A moment later, Hulann opened his contact with the Phasersystem.
        He sensed the channel of minds.
        "Docanil," he said with his mind. "Docanil the Hunter."
        There was silence. Then:
        Hulann…
        He shuddered at the coldness of the thoughts.
        "We will not run any longer," he said to the distant Hunter. "If you will listen to us, we will not run,"
        Listen, Hulann?
        "To what I have discovered. I-"
        Am I to understand you are surrendering yourselves to me?
        "More or less, Docanil. But that is not what is important. You must listen to what I have discovered about the humans-"
        I wish you would run. If you are begging mercy, you are not being realistic.
        "You will not want to kill us when you hear what I have to say."
        On the contrary. Nothing you say can influence a Hunter, Hulann. A Hunter cannot be made to sympathize. And a Hunter cannot be deceived. There is no sense in what you plan.
        "Listen and you will not kill-"
        I will kill on sight, Hulann. I will dispose of you at once. It is my prerogative as a Hunter.
        Docanil the Hunter had only been humiliated once in his life. Having little emotional range, a Hunter clings to and nourishes whatever deep feelings arise in him. Even if those feelings are humiliation, anger, and hatred…
        I know where you are Hulann. 1 will be there soon.
        "Please-"
        I am coming, Hulann.
        Hulann spread the area of his broadcast, boosted it so that it was something that could not escape the notice of any naoli on the Second Division system. He said: "I have discovered something vital about the humans. It is something which makes the war senseless. You must listen. The humans-"
        But before he could continue, the psychological conditioning dreams began…
        He was standing on a dark plain. There were no boundaries to either side, nor any ahead or behind him. He was the highest point for a thousand miles. He stood upon a cushion of vines that tangled in upon one another, concealing the real floor of the land.
        We are in an unknown place, the conditioning chanter whispered. This is not the home of naoli…
        He realized, for the first time, that there were animals in the spaces between the vines, hiding beneath the surface. He could hear them rustling, scampering about. He thought they must have long claws and sharp teeth, small red eyes, poisonous venom. Though he did not see any evidence to support this conception and did not know why he imagined them as beasts.
        Because they are beasts, the chanter said.
        He felt their fingers at his feet, trying to topple him. He knew that, if his face came close enough, they would shred it, go for his vulnerable, green eyes.
        They are clever…
        He thought he felt one coming out of the vines and starting up his leg. He kicked, tossed it free. He began to run, though he found that when he moved his feet tended to slip between the vines, down into the holes where the things waited…
        He fell, rolled, gained his feet. There was blood running down his face from where the claws of a beast had struck in the split moment he had been down.
        There is no running. They are everywhere. The naoli had to realize this. There could be no running, for the beasts came wherever the naoli went.
        Slowly, he began to realize that the beasts in the