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you heard they were in
The Nation. Who told you those things?"
"Why, we don't know!" the Czillian answered.
"They came as, well, tips, passed in common printer-
machine type in our respective languages, to our am-
bassadors at Zone."
"Yes," Bat persisted, "but who sent them? Is there a third set of players in
the race?"
"I was hoping you could tell me that," Brazil said flatly.
Bat's eyes widened. "Me? All right, I admit I knew who you were back in
Dillia, and that I joined you on purpose. But I don't represent anyone except
myself, and the interests of my people. We got word the same way the Czillians
and Umiau did, at Zone. Said where you'd be, approximately when, and that you
were go-
ing after Skander and Vamett. We couldn't find who sent it, but it was decided
that we had a stake in the outcome. I was elected, because I've done more
trav-
238
eling than most of my people. But me? The third party? No, Brazil, I admit
only to not being truthful with you. Surely by now you know that I'm on your
side all the way."
"That's too bad," Brazil replied. "I would very much like to know our
mysterious helper, and how he gets his information."
"Well, he seems to be on our side," Bat said opti-
mistically.
"Nobody's on any side but his own," Brazil snapped back. "Not you, not me, not
anybody. We're going to have a tough enough time just dealing with the
Skander party. I don't want to reach the goal of this chase and have our
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helpful third party finish off the survivors."
"Then you propose to give chase?" the Czillian asked stupidly.
"Of course! That's what all this is about. One last
question can you tell me the last major problem
Skander fed to the computer?"
"Why, yes, I think so," the Czillian replied nerv-
ously. She rummaged through some papers, coming up with two. "He asked two, in
fact. One was the number of Entries into hexes bordering the Equatorial Zone,
both sides.'*
"And the answer?"
"Why, none on record. Most curious. They're not true hexes anyway, you know.
Since the Equatorial
Barrier splits them neatly in half, they are two adjoin-
ing half-hexes, each side therefore, twice as wide as a normal hex and half
the distance north and south, with fiat equatorial borders."
"What was the second question?" Brazil asked im-
patiently.
"Oh, ah, whether the number six had any special relation to the Equatorial
Zone hexes in geography, biology, or the like."
"And the answer?"
"Still in the computer when the unfortunate, ah, in-
cident occurred. We did, of course, get the answer, even though it was on a
printout which the kidnap-
pers apparently took with them. The material was still in storage, and so we
got another copy."
239
"What did it say?" Brazil asked in an irritated tone.
"Oh, ah, that six of the double half-hexes, so to speak, were split by a very
deep inlet all the way up to the zone barrier, evenly spaced around the planet
so that, if you drew a line from zone to zone through each of the inlets,
you'd split the planet into abso-
lutely equal sixths."
"Son of a bitchi" Brazil swore. "He's got the whole answer! Nothing will ever
surprise me again!"
At that moment another Czillian entered the room and looked at the bat and the
stag confusedly. Finally she picked the bat and said, shyly, "Captain Brazil?"
"Not me," Bat replied casually, and pointed a bony wing at the stag. "Him."
She turned and looked at the creature that was so obviously an animal. "I
don't believe it!" she said the way everyone did. Finally she decided she
might be-
lieve it and went over to the great Murithel antelope,
and repeated, "Captain Brazil?"
"Yes?" he answered pleasantly, curious in the ex-
treme. Captain Brazil?
"Oh," she responded softly, "I I realize I've changed a great deal, but
nothing like you. Wow!"
"Well, who are urn, that is, who were you?" he asked, intrigued.
"Why, I'm Vardia, Captain," she replied.
"But Vardia was kidnapped by the bugs!" Bat ex-
claimed.
"I know," she replied. "That's what's really upset me."
A Road in the Nation
"QUARANTINE, HELL!" SKANDER GRUMBLED, STRAPPED
in again atop Main's back, irritated by the yellowish atmosphere and the
discomfort of the breathing ap-
paratus. Her voice was so muffled by the mask that none could understand a
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word.
240
"Stop grumbling, Skander," The Rel responded.
"You waste air and can't be understood by anybody but me anyway. You are quite
right, though we've been stalled."
Vardia, whose head and vocal mechanism were not related in any way to her
respiratory system, asked, "Who could be responsible? Who knew we were here,
would be staying at that particular hotel? Perhaps our people have tracked you
down." There was hope in her voice.
"Don't get yourself that excited, Czillian," The Rel replied. "As you can see,
the delaying action slowed us but did not stop or deter us nor did it liberate
you. No, this smells of darker stuff. Of the one who planted the hidden
listening device in the baron's of-
fice at Zone and prevented our escapade weeks ear-
ner."
This was the first Vardia had heard of that incident, and it made her think
back to the many things that had happened to her. That distress signal where
one could not have been operating. The vanishing of the two shuttlecraft on
Dalgonia, and the disappearance of their lifeboat. The opening of the Well
Gate only after they were all securely in it. Captain Brazil's firm
belief that he was being suckered by someone.
That strange snakeman, Ortega. Over seven hun-
dred chances, and Brazil is met by the only person at
Zone who knew him. Coincidence?
She suddenly felt furious, thinking of all of it in detail. Someone was using
her using all of them
moving them like pieces in a game.
What about the hex assignments? Skander to a place where she had all the tools
at her disposal, cor-
rupting a peaceful people in the process. She to the hex next door,
assigned actually assigned.9 to work with Skander and kidnapped with her. By
whom?
Someone working for that bastard Datham Ham!
And Captain Brazil! She had gotten the word when
Brazil had entered Zone, looking exactly the same as he had before. Why didn't
the Gate change him? And that pathetic little addict dumped into a hex almost
perfect for getting back to being human without pres-
241
sures. Brazil had been hung up on her, she recalled.
Probably they were together now.
Why? she wondered. Sex? That was something the animals did, she told herself.
She had never under-
stood it, or why people liked it; and if her own twin-
ning was any indication, it was a most unpleasant experience. Why was a
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