While Heather and Judy were packing, he made time for a word alone with Ewen. “Wait here for at least eight days for us,” he said, “and we’ll signal every night at sunset if we can. If there’s no word or signal by that time, get back to the ship. 1f we make it back, no sense disturbing everyone else with this–but if something happens to us, you’re in charge.”
Ewen felt reluctant to see him go. “What shall I do if Zabal dies?”
“Bury him,” MacAran said harshly, “what else?” He turned away and motioned to Camilla. “Let’s go, Lieutenant.”
They strode away from the clearing without looking back, MacAran setting a steady pace, not too fast, not too slow.
As they climbed higher the land changed, the ground under foot becoming less overgrown, with more bare rocks and sparser trees. The slope of the foothills was not acute, but as they neared the crest of the slope where they had camped, MacAran called a halt to rest and swallow a mouthful of rations. From where they stood they could see the small orange square of the shelter tent, only a flyspeck at this height, through the heavy trees.
“How far have we come, MacAran?” the woman asked, putting back the fur-lined hood of her jacket.
“I’ve no way of knowing. Five, six miles perhaps; about two thousand feet of altitude. Headache?”
“Only a little,” the girl lied.
“That’s the change in air pressure; you’ll get used to it presently,” he said. “Good thing we have a fairly gradual rise in land.”
“It’s hard to realize that’s really where we slept last night–so far down,” she said a little shakily.
“Over this ridge it will be out of sight. If you want to chicken out, this is your last chance. You could make it down in an hour, maybe two.”
She shrugged. “Don’t tempt me;”
“Are you frightened?”
“Of course. I’m not a fool. But I won’t panic, if that’s what you mean.”
MacAran rose to his feet, swallowing the last of his ration. “Let’s go, then. Watch your step–here are rocks above us.”
But to his surprise she was sure-footed on the piled rocks near the peak, and he did not need to help her, or hunt for an easier pass. From the top of the hill they could see a long panorama beneath them, behind them; the valley where they had camped, with its long plain, the further valley where the starship lay–although even with his strong binoculars MacAran could only make out a tiny dark streak that might be the ship. Easier to see was the ragged clearing where they had cut trees for shelters. Passing the glasses to Camilla, he said, “Man’s fast mark on a new world.”
“And last, I hope,” she said. He wanted to ask her, put it up to her straight, could the ship be repaired? But that wasn’t the time for thinking about that. He said, “There are streams among the rocks, and Judy tested the water days ago. We can probably find all the water we need to refill our canteens, so don’t ration yourself too much.”
“My throat feels terribly dry. Is it just the altitude?”
“Probably. On Earth we couldn’t come much higher than this without oxygen, but this planet has a higher oxygen content.” MacAran took one last look at the orange tent below them; stowed the glasses and slung them over his shoulder. “Well, the next peak will be higher. Let’s get on, then.” She was looking at some small orange flowers that grew in the crannies of the rock. “Better not touch them. Who knows what might bite, here?”
She turned around, a small orange flower in her fingers. “Too late now;” she said with wry grin. “If I’m going to drop dead when I pick a flower, better find it out now than later. I’m not so sure I want to go on living if it’s a planet where I can’t touch anything.” She added, more seriously, “We’ve got to take some risks, Rafe–and even then, something we never thought of might kill us. Seems to ma that all we can do is take the obvious precautions–and then take our chances.”