Jill looked at Hardy, saying, "What the ..."

Hardy grinned and said, "Yeth, he lithpth. Joe Miller is as big as two Goliaths put together but he lisps. Joe belongs to a species of subhuman .which Sam named Titanthropus clemensi, though actu­ally I think Joe's kind is really just a giant variant of Homo sapiens. Anyway, it became extinct an estimated fifty thousand to one hundred thousand years ago. He and Sam met many years ago, and they've been real pals since. Damon and Pythias. Roland and Oliver."

"More like Mutt and Jeff or Laurel and Hardy," someone mut­tered.

Hardy said, "Hardy?"

Firebrass said, "Mute it. Okay, Sam. Everything's in orbit. We got a great new candidate, real first-class officer material. Austra­lian, named Jill Gulbirra. She's got over eight hundred hours dirigible experience and she has an engineering degree. How do you like that?"

Crackle. Then, "A woman?"

"Yeah, Sam, I know they didn't have female riverboat pilots or railroad engineers in your day. But in my day we had women airplane pilots and horse jockeys and even astronauts!"

Jill unfroze and started forward. "Let me talk to him," she said. "I'll tell that son of a bitch..."

"He isn't objecting. He's just surprised," Firebrass said, looking up at her. "Take it easy. What do you care? He's all right. Even if he wasn't, he couldn't do anything. I'm Numero Uno here.

"Sam, she said she's pleased to meet you."

"I heard her," Sam said, and he chuckled. "Listen..." Crackle, hiss, sputter. "... when?"

"Static shot that all to hell,'' Firebrass said. "And you' re drifting off. I don't think we can keep contact much longer. So here goes, fast. I'm a long way from having a full crew, but it'll be a year before the big ship's finished. By then I might have enough. If not, what the hell? Airplane pilots and mechanics are a dime a dozen and they can be trained for dirigible operation.

"Listen."

He paused, looked around-though why Jill did not know-and said, "Heard from X? Have ..."

Static rolled over his voice, chewed it up, and wouldn't let go of the pieces. After trying for several minutes to get hold of Clemens again, Firebrass gave up.

Jill said to Hardy, "What is this about hearing from X?"

"I don't know," the New Englander said. "Firebrass says it's a private joke between Sam and him."

Firebrass turned off the radio and got up from his chair. "It's getting late, and we have a lot to do tomorrow. Do you want Willy to drive you home, Jill?"

"I don't need anyone to protect me," she said. "And I don't mind walking. No thanks."

Covered with the magnetically attached towels, she walked across the plain. Before she had reached the first hill, she saw clouds racing across the blazing sky. She took a stick of dreamgum from her shoulderbag, tore off half of it, and thrust it into her mouth. It had been years since she had chewed it.

Now, as she moved the coffee-tasting chicloid around in her mouth, she wondered why she had suddenly, almost involuntarily, decided to try it again. What secret motive did she have? It had been almost an unconscious act. If she had not gotten into the habit of closely observing herself, she might not even have been aware of what she was doing.

Lightning flashed to the north. Then the rain fell as if dumped from a ballast bag. She put her head down under her hood and hunched her shoulders. Her bare feet were wet, but the cloth over her body repelled the drops.

She unlatched the door of her hut. Inside, she put down the bag, opened it, and removed the heavy metal lighter provided twice a year by her grail. She groped toward the table which held an alcohol lamp, a gift from Firebrass. The lightning came nearer, and by its increasing brightness, she could see the lamp.

Something touched her shoulder.

She screamed and whirled, dropping the lighter. Her right fist struck out. A hand gripped her right wrist. Her knee came up, aiming at the groin she hoped was in its path. It slid by a hip, and another hand caught her other wrist. She sagged, and the attacker was deceived. He chuckled and pulled her close. She could see him vaguely now as flashes of light dimly illumined the interior of the hut. His nose was in front of her and close, though below her, since he was short.

She bent her head swiftly, bit down on the end of the nose, and jerked her head savagely. The man screamed and released her. He staggered backward holding his nose. She followed him, and this time her foot shot up between his legs. Though she had no shoes, her hard-driven toes sent him writhing to the ground, clutching his genitals.

Jill came up and leaped up and down, landing on his side. His ribs snapped loudly. Stepping off him, she bent down and grabbed both ears. He tried to reach up then, but she yanked outward. The ears came loose with a ripping sound.

The man, ignoring his injured genitals and broken ribs, came up off the floor. Jill caught the side of his neck with the edge of her palm. He fell, and she went to the table and lit the lamp with a lighter ' in a shaking hand. The wick took hold, and then the flame bright­ened as she turned the knob on the side of the lamp. After trimming it, she turned, and she yelled again.

He had risen and had seized a spear from its wall brackets and was thrusting it at her.

The lamp flew from her hand in unthinking but deadly reaction. It struck him in the face, shattered, and the alcohol spilled out.

Flames exploded. He screamed and ran blindly-his eyes were on fire-toward her. She screamed. Only now did she recognize him.

She shrieked, "Jack!'' and then he was on her, had wrapped his burning arms around her, knocked her upon her back, the breath coming out of her in a whoof. Unable to breathe for a moment, but in a frenzy to escape his fiery arms, she tore herself loose and rolled away. Her fireproof clothing had kept her from being burned.

Before she could get up, however, he had grabbed her garment hem and yanked on it. The magnetic tabs separated. Naked, she leaped to her feet and ran for the spear, lying where he had dropped it. She bent down to get it, and Jack was on her from behind, blazing hands grabbing her breasts, his blazing erection driving into her. Their screams bounced around the walls of the hut, seeming to mount in intensity with each echo. She was being fried, seared, inside her, on her buttocks, on her breasts, and in her ears-as if the echoes were flames, too. She could only roll over and over until brought up short against the wall.

Jack was on his hands and knees now, his hair burned off, his scalp black, crinkled, and ridged, his skin broken open to reveal reddish-black blood and grey-black bone. The only illumination was the fire still consuming his face and chest and belly and the penis-which was swollen as if with the passion of hate-and the lightning cracking into the earth outside.

She was up and running toward the door to get to the outside, where the blessed rain would put out the fire and soothe her external burns. Somehow, he grabbed hold of her ankle. She fell heavily, knocking her breath out again. Jack was on top of her again, muttering strange croaking sounds-his tongue was burned, too?- and both were enfolded in fire.

She slid down a scream of pure agony toward a hole far below, a hole which expanded swiftly and received her as she fell toward the center of this world and toward the heart of all things.